A/N: 12.5K Words
Whew! Last portion was actually written by Dhrallis/Thulium because I had some difficulty writing it, so here we go!
***
An urban city, an urban lifestyle. That was all that Fushiguro Megumi had known, and seeing it first hand from an outsider's perspective was certainly a new way to look at things. To be completely honest, he had also found himself washed away in the tide of people walking throughout the streets with droopy eyes and stress marks lining their face like an accessory. It was so prominent in modern days that the black-haired man had to question if they were a part of a new mascara cosmetic product, or if it was just the new norm that people would toss around like it were an achievement—a trophy of their vices.
A trophy that was probably gold in their sights, but was secretly a decaying bronze or copper, turning greener as the time of wisdom passed by. The only difference was that the material was coated with an absurd sheen of plastic yellow, which tricked the lights of the natural world to hide its true nature. Admittedly, even he—the logical stone-cold Sorcerer that he believed himself to be in wisps of dreamy clouds—had been a victim of such a false exorbitant prize. A cog in the machine, just as any corporate worker in their cubicle office playing a small part in a larger contrivance.
...Where was he again?
Right, Kazimierz. For a country such as Japan, and by extension its city of Tokyo, the black-haired man could have never expected to bear the same view he possessed toward them than he had for Kazimierz currently. As he noted before in his mind, an outsider's perspective could truly change things. In his own case, an otherworlder who stood as a foreigner could break the illusion of a modern city and reveal its flaws, when he would usually brush away such contemptions back in his own home. Why was that so? Perhaps it was bias, a floundering bias which had kept his views as stagnant as Ame-no-Sakahoko's state atop a mountain.
The more his steps passed through the bowels of the city, and the endless streets which had been blanketed by a depressive atmosphere; the more the Sorcerer had realized just how miserable the environment looked. It wasn't the light of the sun which illuminated the city and showed off its endless majesty, but the vacant city lights and neon tapestry which provided the enjoyment these people were so used to, the satisfaction of being presented with a lit up scenery. So, when he said to himself 'I have no hopes for Kazimierz,' he, indeed, did not have much hopes for Kazimierz.
An illusory displacement, one that furthered his dissatisfaction for such a place. It didn't help that a clawing influence that wasn't his own was festering in his mind, attempting to break through the prison of his brain matter and splatter outwards. The constant nagging and insults his own body developed against his will toward anything that seemingly provided a hint of displeasure provided a macabre feeling in his gut. At times, he desperately wished to claw at the organ stuck inside, the fleshy and hollow rope where digested food flowed in unison with his body's will. Unconsciously.
"These lights—" Megumi mumbled out a small phrase, before hovering his hand above his eyes in order to block them from entering his enhanced eyes "—I should be getting used to them." Thinning his lips and feeling them bend downwards despite his subconscious will to keep at least a neutral expression, the Jujutsu Sorcerer attempted not to insult the city in front of one of its citizens.
"In search of something to please yourself..." for some inexplicable reason, the other occupant known as Viviana started preaching(?) of a view "...you find dissatisfaction at every sight you take in. It's almost as if it were a constant you've become used to, throughout your entire life."
"I'm just tired, that's all. There's no reason to look too deeply into it," he didn't want to give much of a reasonable response to the Elafian woman, because he had none.
"Oh, if you believe my words to possess an underlying cynical view toward you, please don't believe so," Viviana looked downwards with a slightly guilty expression, making the other man feel a small string being struck in his chest. "You come from another country on the basis of a business venture, don't you?"
"I didn't take your words that way—and yes, I do," Megumi replied to both of her clauses, and then turned back toward the crowded sidewalk. The intense fervor from the victory of the Blazingaxe Knight had lit their flames to an unprecedented degree, letting it blaze such as his title had alluded. 'Seriously, it's as if they've won a World War.' The same could not be said for Japan during that time.
"I'm glad," Viviana let out a sigh, "if I may ask for your rich knowledge upon lands outside of the Grand Knight Territory, would that be okay?" Her tone was measured to keep the most leveled respect to the other person, something that he was starting to find uncomfortable. It wasn't completely fake, that was for sure.
"I've been traveling to places, but I don't think my opinion should matter much," Megumi waved his hand in the air while focusing on the path toward Ioleta Russel's place of residency, "opinions are just that—opinions. Nothing in the world is completely objective, and I'm pretty sure my own would provide you with the same reaction as everybody else I've granted them to." Yes... he remembered when Kugisaki Nobara and Itadori Yuji would cover their mouths in order to not let the air built inside blast out, whenever he gave his "emo" opinions. 'Tch,' he wished he could get back at them for that.
Something piqued Viviana's interest with the way Fushiguro Megumi's expression had shifted, from the plainess that it was to the intense sorrow, and then back to the stoicism which he held unbreakable solitude in. Stone walls, countless arrays of them stood tall amongst everything else that had attempted to find their way through, and the Elafian woman didn't think she was just overthinking it. If Chivalry was the guiding light that kept her moving on a path of her ascending dreams, then... whatever this black-haired man followed was keeping him stagnant and in one place. That was what she believed.
Her mouth opened, "opinions hold value. People aren't always at a disagreement. I don't think you would always be at odds with everybody, it's not a view you should have on yourself."
"Thanks for the compliment," an instinctive reaction, and an instinctive response. He had gotten so used with the same basic response as an auto-generated response AI would, that it had practically become second-nature to his body. "However, I believe myself to be an outlier. Would you even want to hear my opinion on the matter of Kazimierz?"
"I would love to," Viviana replied earnestly. "An outside view is always welcomed, it possesses less bias, after all."
...Megumi didn't think that applied to him, "I'll just state it plainly, then. I don't see any Chivalry." His gaze turned toward the many screens stuck to the skyscrapers, as if it were a part of their mody and make-up, left to be that way for the next century—or perhaps eternity—to pass. "Not in the knight's competition. Definitely not there."
"Hm..." Viviana faintly found her head nodding to the beat of his words, taking in every single aspect and intonation of them. "A-admittedly..." She felt guilty speaking up on the matter of her own country, but the Elafian woman had also felt the same way, just simply bottled up in a tight seal "...I believe I would share some of the same view, as you do."
Viviana watched as Megumi's gaze turned back toward her while continuing his brisk pace. It was only for a second or two, but it felt like an eternity passing, more akin to an hourglass' sands falling piece by piece to complete the bottom flow. Those eyes of his weren't one of an ordinary politician, noble, or diplomat; but of a honed warrior able to instill a predatory fear within the hearts of any gaze it met. It was a toss-up, whether his gaze was boring into her with scrutiny and admonishment or agreement and validation. Unravelling it in its entirety was a herculean task.
"...Aren't you a knight yourself? I wouldn't have expected you to share a shard of the sentiment I did," Megumi blinked in slight surprise, a secular haze passing by it, dimming the intensity of his crimson light.
Viviana nodded slowly while listening to his words, "yes, I am an Independent Knight as it stands, participating in the preliminaries of the Major..." small flashes of her time in the arena flickered in view constantly. The feeling of smoke biting at her skin due to the countless Arts fired off, and the silver blades that flew her way, bathing their incandescent light across the scenery—was something she remembered clearly "...I've fought in the arena, through tooth and nail. The energized cheers and jeers of the crowd was an experience to remember, and carving my way to victory with a mere candlelight was what brought a bit of glory and fame to me."
The black-haired man listened patiently to the woman, not once having had his attention drawn in by the cars passing by on the road or the brief clicks of the phones that the passersby directed toward the Elafia. From Viviana's view, nothing in front of him seemed to register at all, yet his body moved on some sort of recognitional pattern that evaded making not even a single contact with them. A passing needle he was, weaving through the many cracks and crevices of cloth skillfully, and almost elegantly.
She continued her speech, not desiring to let his patience and understanding go to waste, "but they were fleeting moments. The candlelight would always flicker away at the end of the path, leaving naught but darkness." Viviana's hand moved to fiddle with the handle of her Candle Sword, her fingers twitching across the elegant engravings holed lightly on its surface, "fame, glory, and victory in an arena... is that truly what knighthood is?" Her voice continued to flow like a melodious spring, yet also infinitely soft.
"Excuse me if my definition of Chivalry is outdated or ignorant," Megumi chimed in, making a brief pause, "courage, honor, and justice—such as aiding the weak in their need." The weak, which specifically included women in children in the olden times if he remembered correctly, "that's what a knight should be?"
"A vague and standardized understanding, but I believe so." Viviana nodded, "I take it you don't see such a prospect in the center stage of the knight's competition? Any of the values you've just presented, I mean." She watched with anticipation, his low gaze changing ever slightly as her soft probing questions continued to peel off the small layer glued onto himself. An outsider's view... he could understand wherein her virtues and vices laid in regard toward the Kazimierz Major, couldn't he?
"That should be obvious enough," Fushiguro Megumi's voice continued to remain stagnant, but the other party could definitely feel a change in the way he spoke. "Competition Knights, they look good in the arena by fighting other competitors. It provides good entertainment for people who watch it, and that's just about it. Ah, right, it also makes the corporations who host the Major a lot of money." His hands entered his pocket, turning away from Viviana, "I... don't see how they can compare to a soldier or police officer who fights for their country."
Viviana hummed, "I believe that is a fair assessment." She had no way to refute him, and she felt as if she didn't need to in the first place. He was right, Competition Knights played into the hands of the Kazimierz Major. The Elafian woman would have thought that participating in it would be the glorious dream she sought out to achieve, but all it brought was a realization, which further brought on... disillusionment. "Mr. Fushiguro..."
"Just call me Megumi." The black-haired man didn't even look back when responding—er, interrupting her words.
She spoke once more again, a bit peeved, "I see... Megumi, then. Do you believe Kazimierz can change? That it can turn back to its old roots of what a knight should truly be?" A question filled with endless curiosity escaped her lips. He was a Higashinese man, and she had vaguely remembered the code of "Bushido" that the samurais of the country possessed, which wasn't all that far apart from Chivalry. So... for somebody like him who had seen countless bloodshed, who has done countless bloodshed, perhaps, maybe, as an outsider; he could have a view or opinion to what could be done to solve Kazimierz's issues.
He halted in his steps. His black haori billowed in the wind when the soft zephyr of autumn's approach passed through, yet he did not heed nor react to it in the slightest. Fushiguro Megumi stood tall in the middle of the sidewalk, and Viviana took the imperative decision to stop where she stood, just barely by his side—but still behind him. She couldn't see his facial expression, as the only thing she bore witness to was the spiky locks of his ebony hair twist and turn in the wind, providing a wild, turmoil-like expression from behind. For the first time, she felt as if something was churning inside, a burning bile of acid which melted his insides and caused an unserene sense of discomfort.
The vanished moisture of the ground was in the air now, the fairytale of rain had reached its end ages ago. It wasn't suffocating, and it wasn't unpleasant in the slightest, but it certainly provided a large enough fog to corrupt the more far-away view. For a city such as Kazimierz, the Land of the Knights, it held such a blackened atmosphere of dripping oil. Not even the skies were safe from such, as the constant industrialization and spike of commercialization had wrought multiple sentinels of Originium fumes to be produced off somewhere, far from the city—but not completely out of reach.
Viviana stared at him worriedly, feeling the atmosphere change ever so slightly ever since his steps became a heavily planted anvil against the ground, the sound not reaching anybody else, except for herself. It was loud and invasive, finding its way into her ears and tickling her earbuds. Her anticipation was high, wondering what had gotten him so unsettled, if that was where his difficulties lay. Was it the talks of knights? The blaring screens which preached a commercialized future for Kazimierz in the form of unsubdued metallic sounds in the form of grandiose music? Or was it something completely far out of reach of her understanding, that it would be a boundless world away before her hand could even come to a hair breadth of apprehension?
"Uncontended strength," suddenly, Fushiguro Megumi's voice came out strongly, more iron-cladded and fortified than Viviana could have expected. "That's it." It was like a sutra, chanted over and over again within the confines of his mind, for how long she did not know. For the faintest of moments, like the blooming of Higahinese's cherry blossoms fading away ere long, or the marigolds of the early summer spreading their wings across a broad horizon—before the hard winter settled in.
'What ails you?'
It was... so simple, and complex at the same time. A contradictory existence that could only form a singularity, and that was the black-haired man in front of her. There was only a sense of dread when in his presence, whenever those orbs of his glinted or dimmed—that was when she believed him to be at his worst.
'What stories do you tell?'
His eyes were tired. Despicably tired, to the point where the Elafian woman had to wonder why somebody so young as him possessed such a twisted view of this material world, and what had driven his legs to stray in such a way. It was then Viviana finally had a grasp of it, amongst the fields of corpses and fountainous springs of blood that wrung out of his long since rotten body, he was a truly broken soul. There was not an understanding in the fairy tales that a child would dearly read, or any appreciation for the light of the sun which bore its rays toward the barren earth of Terra. Only a decadent silence toward the world's happenings.
If Margaret Nearl was a beacon which pierced upward and reached the planet's bright celestial object in terms of radiance...
...Then Fushiguro Megumi was a shadow, the existence behind a blanket which was draped over to block any source of the ethereal solars.
Viviana clutched the side of her skirt tighter, feeling as if she had stumbled upon a complete anthesis, written in splatters of blood.
Two attributes of her meager existence split into two different people, to the greatest extremity of which she could have ever imagined.
***
A scale of the dragon his skin was, indomitable against the forces which had governed this imperial land. Beneath the clasps of his hand, countless flames billowing forth from a dragon's maw encompassed everything in wake of its unruly path. Across the edge of his claws were a draconic despair, able to dismantle everything in its path with a cleaving motion, ripping across even the most beautiful of prairies. Flowers would burn, flowers would be torn, and flowers would be left as nothing but a faint memory in his mind.
Arturia could see it, the beautiful sights of it all. The ugliness that stemmed from such beauty was merely an side addition that added more meaning which she wished to hold in the palm of her hands, to fully understand where such rancid pain came from. For a beast standing tall and mighty atop the highest epochs of mountains and clouds, even such a flying god would eventually find themselves crashing onto the mantle of the earth.
"...Arturia?"
So, once again, her bow delicately danced across the strings which spanned her cello, twitching and manipulating them to the desires held deep in her own heart. An evocation of an ancient power mixed in with a natural blessing of her own kind, dialed up to the highest degree which she could have imagined. Bringing about the truest essence of the man in front of her was longer necessary or even possible, as this was the barest of bones—leading to even his marrow—that she could witness.
"...Arturia."
A sound which brought itself in the world by her own actions, blaring with such passionate twirl that she couldn't bear to break herself away from the connection it provided. The notes of music continued to swirl around as to her bidding, a controlled chaos which drew out substance in the form of order. This way, even the most planted of emotions in the dark scape of the mental mind could be drawn out, like a hand plucking itself into a boundless river and finding what it needed without a moment's need for thought.
"...Arturia!"
The principality of the cacophony of sounds had vanished when a deft voice budged in the self-orchestra being formed atop the many budding flowers of autumn. Arturia's eyes opened with a tinge of bemusement, scouring toward the black-haired man who had just so politely intruded in her personal time with her instrument. He stood over her while she was sitting by a wooden seat placed in the thriving garden full of life, and its own ecosystem to boot. It was then she decided to respond to him.
"Yes?" Arturia asked inquisitively, still coming to grips with the slight pet peeve of having her music playing interrupted, "I don't believe there is anybody around aside from yourself who can listen to my music, isn't that right?"
"You're right," Fushiguro Megumi watched as Arturia showed off an expression of confusion toward his words, but one so faint that it could be mistaken for curiosity; just as he had when experiencing it. "I'm here... because I agreed to learn the violin from you. Don't you remember?" His voice betrayed an ounce of annoyance, as his brows pressed downward. "Or should I more accurately point out you forced me into this?"
"Oh my, whatever are you talking about?" Arturia placed a hand over her mouth and let out a gasp, before her expression turned back to the small smile she would always hold, "but really—I had already assumed you had forgotten of such a promise." She stared amusedly at the black-haired man.
"...Let's just get this over with," Megumi rolled his eyes, reached his hand out and materialized the violin case that Cora Lowenstein had granted to him temporarily, the item forming in his hand just as he grasped at the empty void.
The rest of the time was spent as the Sankta guided each and every one of his movements, a certain passion and professionalism that the Sorcerer had never felt from the woman before. For some reason that he couldn't understand, the woman seemed lost in the art of teaching, a far different one compared to the obsessive sights she had upon... "liberation."
...Strange, indeed.
***
Light and shadow, Viviana knew those two things very well. After all, who wielded such two Arts at the very tip of her fingers? Being able to command both with mere wisps of her movements, and with hearty taps at the soles of her hooves. Being able to encompass the light and tear across the shadows like a ballet dancer in the darkness, it all proved to be a testament of where her capabilities lied when crossing the artificial battlefield. Each was delicately crafted over years of training, having started since she was reaching the age of pubescence.
She adored to see herself in the same boots of the Radiant Knight, with the capabilities of being able to light up the entire stadium which she stood in, causing an immense reverberation to echo across and rupture the air itself. Her small candlelight which could absorb and emit such brilliance, and was always made as a comparison toward the Radiant Knight by her own mental immaturity.
If that was so... if she had somebody to compare her light to, then that should have been the same for her shadow. The only one she could find so far in this vast world was the black-haired man in front of her, the one where she had been tailing and showing directions to. Such as how Margaret Nearl was a female, Fushiguro Megumi was a male—albeit possessing a female name. It didn't help that his abilities pertained with shadows, that much she could tell when he so discreetly pulled the letter out of his black haori. There was no pocket in it, and her understanding of the distorted shadows underneath his robes was already a dead giveaway.
He was malevolent, malignant, and decadent. That much should be told from his aura alone, a profaned slaughterer who indulged in the most decrepit of heresy and blasphemous deeds, drinking the blood-red wine which spilled from those he butchered. Viviana saw that, and she felt as if she were being compelled by her instincts to believe such a notion of the young man. However... she couldn't logically bring herself to. Truly, she couldn't.
Why was that so? It was simple, really.
That wheel, the exoneration of the purest divinity she had ever laid her eyes on, the shimmer lights which bounced and reflected across its surface... and all the goodness in the world. It was a harmonious object, holding absolutely no flaws which she could see across its immaculate sheen. It wasn't like a Sankta halo—no—she had been completely mistaken in that regard. It was a crown toward a Sovereign, gracing them with a status unequaled and unrivalled to the mortal masses.
It was the saving grace of his character.
It was beautiful, just like his blessing of a name, Megumi.
'He isn't pure evil, such a condemnable idea is naive of me,' Viviana shook her head, feeling the golden strands of her hairs move slightly. 'Not when that wheel exists, a clear sign that not everything is as it seems.' That wasn't even including the brush of sorrow that laced his brows and eyelashes. Perhaps it was circumstance, or even her own tunnel-visioned way of looking at him merely based on his aura. Although they were usually a good indicator of a person's character, it wasn't the end all be all.
Taking a deep breath, the Elafia focused her gaze once more on the golden wheel. Despite the plausible idea that he was the complete opposite of all that Margaret Nearl stood for, there was still this... this hint of goodness that she could feel. All in the form of eight prongs, pointing in all different directions. Her hand strayed away from her handle for the umpteenth time, taking in a contemplative stance to clear her mind. Thinking upon that mysterious object, she could feel her hand straying towards it, even touching it. The action cleared her mind once more in the form of absolution.
He wasn't pure evil.
He wasn't going to slaughter anybody.
He certainly wasn't the representation against what knighthood stood for.
She would find the testament to such—
"...Viviana."
—A voice tore her out of her stupor at a meteoric pace, making her shoot her eyes open. She was close to his face, on her tippy-toes and... touching the golden wheel above his head. Fushiguro Megumi looked at her bizarrely, some sort of turmoil forming in the pupils of his eyes that seemed to scream embarrassment. Despite his lips still clasping together and his gaze turning away, along with his steady posture, that much rang true like a bell in the dead of day.
Calmly... Viviana closed her eyes and let out a nervous smile, letting her hands release itself from his wheel, "my apologies," she meekly replied. However, her voice came as softly as it always has been, as she broke away contact with him. "I was utterly curious about your... Arts Unit? If you could forgive me for my previous action..." The distance was made once more, as she kept up the calmest postulation that she could.
"It's alright, a lot of people were curious about it," Fushiguro Megumi replied while scratching his cheek, "could we save the explanation for later?"
Viviana glanced at his expression. He didn't look malicious in the slightest, in fact, there was a faint trace of innocence ladened deep beneath. But just as the passing vehicles of mankind's innovation that she felt across the alloyed streets, it vanished completely when his eyes blinked once. That was enough confirmation, though, because it served only to prove her newly developed notion of the black-haired man. Although he may represent the other side of the coin that was light and darkness, he wasn't all that irredeemable.
So she sought to see those qualities hidden underneath, "it has just come to my mind that we've already arrived at our destination." Her eyes trailed upwards, across the flourishing greenery of life in front of her, up toward the hefty estate that took up every inch of the allotted land granted toward it. "We are at Ioleta Russel's of stay," Viviana then watched as the man in front of her turned around to glance at what she had been referring to.
"Yeah, thank you. That much was already clear for me," his hand moved to massage the back of his neck, not even giving a single glance toward the wheel she had just tampered with. It was as if her previous action didn't matter much at all to him, comparable to a speck of dust that had just touched the corner of his device. Viviana was honestly glad.
"You could have taken a cab or taxi," she decided to point out to satiate her curiosity, "or did you rather prefer to tread the distance on foot?"
"On foot," Megumi replied plainly. "I'm more used to it."
"That is understandable," Viviana nodded, "then shall we make our way through?"
"Sure."
His steps moved once more after turning around. The rest of the cityscape was behind them now, a memory soon to be ingrained in their minds of the first meeting between a faint candlelight and a vast shadow. Viviana watched his soldier-like march while walking behind him once more. She felt it, the flutters of her outfit waltzing behind her in an attempt to keep up with her movements, while she fiddled once more with the handle of her Candle Sword. There was no need to strike at him from behind, that went against what an honorable knight should be, and there should be absolutely no reason in the first place, unless he had done something unforgivable.
"Megumi," Viviana called out to the black-haired man while taking in the scenery. The blossoming flowers had their yellow dots of pollen flying in the air, while the buds turned at the whims of nature's careful guidance, "are you feeling alright?"
He slowed down, her eyes could see it, "yes...? Why do you ask?" Megumi turned to his side, as Viviana made her way to it.
"Oh, nothing. You just looked to be uncomfortable back on the sidewalk back then," Viviana could remember a few of her newly made fans taking out their phones and flashing pictures toward her, and the black-haired man had inched slightly further away from her as a result. "I hope it wasn't a bad experience..."
"It really wasn't. Something like that is only to be expected from an Independent Knight, right? I've already taken that into consideration." Megumi motioned his hand in the air as if the subject was just a brush in the air, "I just don't like being included in a stranger's picture. I don't blame you for your vast popularity at all."
"Is that a compliment?" Viviana slightly craned her head toward him. It was much easier to have a normal conversation with him than she thought. For a moment, she could have sworn that a tinge of amusement came from her words.
"Take it as you will," Megumi half-heartedly responded. A shadow cast over his tired eyes, before his attention made way for the estate in front of him.
"A compliment, then." Viviana kept note of the look in his eyes, a sense of pity forming when gazing at it, before her own focus was shifted toward the estate, the same concentration that was held in the other's orbs.
For Fushiguro Megumi, the building in his path of sight was a large one, but not as domineering as the ivory tower that was the Spire in Sturmland. The aforementioned structure which was erected in the very center of the City of Storms was something that caught his attention even when he stood miles away from where it was truly located. Everything else was a complimentary addition to it, and the sheer height of it alone imposed itself as if it were the only structure in the lands which could reach so high up toward the cerulean canvas of celestiality.
That was merely the assumption and message he had received from it. The true meaning of what it could represent in its implicit and artistic connotation, was completely lost on him. He never did any meaningful research in that regard, so it had been left as a missing puzzle piece to fully satiate his understanding of what the Spire's design was even for. In the end, it was a mystery.
Ah, yes, mysteries. There were many mysteries back home, such as the Cryptids and horror stories given and told all across the world. Whether they were true or not didn't matter, because the negative emotions wrought from them would still be enough to develop a Cursed Spirit dependent on the people's beliefs. That was what dictated their strength, and other mysteries furthermore could be extended to the original Shinto Gods, and not just the spiritual manifestation of them from ideas long since passed. The ones who were born in the modern world via beliefs were theorized to be a heavily weakened version of their predecessor-selves which stood at the pinnacle of Jujutsu Sorcery, revealing everything that the ancient art had to display.
There was also the mystery of how Ryomen Sukuna could digest food with a mouth where his stomach was.
Jujutsu bullshit, that was probably it.
'...My thoughts are drifting back to home,' Megumi berated himself in his mind for getting lost again. His body was now at the front door of the estate, his eyes turning toward the panels filled with countless buttons, all each holding their own meaning and purpose. Hovering his right hand over it, the Sorcerer attempted to find what each of them did—but obviously, there were no labels on how any of them worked! 'Are you kidding me?'
"Are you having difficulties?" Viviana called out to the other man with an understanding voice, "I've had trouble myself when operating this piece of technology at first, if you need help—"
"I'll be fine," Megumi hastily replied, far too hastily for his liking. The gaze of the Elafian woman bore on him from the back, and he was starting to believe that the woman was getting impatient with him. It was an assumption, but one that didn't hold much of a baseless claim in his eyes.
Viviana tilted her head from where she was at, watching him fiddle with the control panel. Taking in the almost comical scene for a moment, the Independent Knight let out a sigh before stepping forward, extending her hand forward, "let me help you."
"Eh... hm?" Megumi found himself lightly beckoned by the woman's hand, before her index finger quickly and delicately made its way through. The part of her body deftly pressed against one of the buttons, her gauntleted hand also producing a clacking sound as it made contact with the contraption. Through the many layers blocking their path to the entrance of the estate, a faint humming sound of electronic devices was heard, coalescing into a single message—that a guest was beckoning the house master to attend to them.
"You're welcome," Viviana closed her eyes and smiled, giving the Sorcerer a full view toward her happy expression.
'...So bright,' Megumi had almost lifted his hand to shield his eyes at how radiant the woman had been. It was then lowered to cover the lips of his own body, which were creasing downwards in the form of a crescent moon, to make sure he didn't look like somebody who had become displeased with the helpful action of the woman. Really, he wasn't displeased at all, it was just that he didn't know how to respond to this social butterfly. 'Is she even a social butterfly?'
On the other side, Viviana watched his action silently, peering through the small crack of her closed eyes. Unbeknownst to Megumi, the woman saw a small peek of his frowning lips. 'Ah, hm?' A sense of dissatisfaction could be felt from her body, but the black-haired man hadn't been paying much attention to her, 'was my action... disrespectful?' She wasn't as social as many people had expected, having been training in isolation while only conversing with a few people. So, a few complex social cues she hadn't been too aware of weren't completely made clear.
"...If there is anything about my demeanor that troubles you, please say so," Viviana closed her mouth after.
"It's—" Megumi was about to say something, but the door just beside him clicked, making both him and Viviana take a step back. He turned toward the gate toward a completely different world compared to the outside fully open, as gently as the calm river of Tokyo's local rivers. Behind the object revealed a person possessing blonde hair, an aged face, and clothed in a dress adorned with a plated gauntlet and a few badges. The significance of the latter completely escaped him, but he could tell that they came from a militaristic background, perhaps even being capable of providing several anecdotes to the more common citizens of Kazimierz.
"Hello? To whom do I owe the pleasure...?" The blonde-haired woman's two pristine orbs shifted across the scene in front of her, lying for a second toward Viviana, who gave her a small smile and wave—before turning toward Fushiguro Megumi. "Ah, a man?" There was a slight turn of her expression that came in a surprised birth, shifting back to the Elafian woman just beside the male she had just referred to, "Viviana dear, I would have never expected you to visit my steps with a man! Oh, where have the times gone..."
"Mother..." Viviana could feel her face just barely start to heat up like a kettle, but reigned in the feeling of light embarrassment starting to form. Not only for herself, but also for the black-haired man that would have to witness it, "Fushiguro Megumi here is on official business with you..." She attempted to save face for the both of them, and clear the aforementioned man from any second-hand involvement.
"Official business?" Ioleta Russel held a perplexed look for a moment, before turning back to Fushiguro Megumi, "I don't recall having any diplomatic messengers from Higashi delivering letters...?" The Pegasus held a more serious expression, staring deeply into the eyes of the man before her.
The Sorcerer... could immediately tell that this woman was immensely powerful. Perhaps a war veteran of a time and age that he didn't know about, but she was definitely somebody not to be trifled with if he wanted to walk with his limbs intact, "it's a message from Werner von Hochberg, I'm sure you know that name?" Megumi kept his cool under the woman's scrutinizing gaze, presenting it toward her."
"Ah... Herr Werner," Ioleta's eyes widened for a brief moment in acknowledgement, letting the Leithanian tongue slip for a moment from her countless experiences back in those diplomatic meetings, "I understand now... you're his messenger?" The Pegasus extended her hand to receive the letter, also noticing how Viviana—her surrogate daughter—had jolted from the revelation.
"Yes, he tasked me with delivering this letter, I think he trusted me enough to do so." Megumi let his hand free, the weightlessness of the letter leaving his hand. "It's for the daughter of... Cora Lowenstein, I take it that she'll receive it?"
Ioleta gave one more glance toward Viviana, the woman holding a bizarre look before she smiled toward the black-haired man, "isn't that quite funny? The daughter you speak of is right beside you right now," she placed a hand over her mouth in amusement as she handed the letter toward the other blonde-haired woman, much to the stupefaction of Fushiguro Megumi. "She's been walking with you the entire time, I presume?"
"I... huh?" Megumi watched as Viviana took the letter, slightly glancing away with the same amount of embarrassment that he held at the moment, "so... ugh..." He placed a hand over his forehead. He can see some of the similarities, the more soft-spoken nature that Cora and Viviana held, along with the blonde hair. The only difference was that the retainer of Werner von Hochberg was a Caprinae, but the woman before him was an Elafia. There was no such thing as a hybrid race born through natural means, so he assumed Viviana must have inherited her race from her father.
"Uhm..." Viviana clutched the letter in her hand and brought it close to her chest, not knowing what to say, "thank you... Megumi, for delivering the letter...?" The Independent Knight already knew of the implications of being mentioned as Cora Lowenstein's daughter, and decided to roll with it as her adoptive mother had. "I'll make sure to take a look at it, and write a letter back to my fa—er—mother..." She tripped over her words a few times, fretful of the political disaster she would bring to the Kurfurst of Sturmland if the actual information leaked out.
Megumi didn't pay much attention to her words, relegating it to the same stupor he felt at the moment, "if that's all... then..." He was about to walk away from the estate, but was called out toward Ioleta.
"Ah, please stay," the Pegasus raised her hand in the air, "I always invite Werner's messengers for a short stay for their efforts, and seeing how you look to not be familiar with Kazimierz, I believe I can provide a small piece of wisdom in regards to the recent happenings. Of course, you're free to deny as some have." She gave a small glance toward Viviana with her eyes, the Elafian woman looking away. Truly, the love of a mother could be quite scary at times.
Megumi didn't know how to respond, so he relied on the same habits he had shown old people, such as the old lady in front of him, which was...
"Okay."
...Being too goddamned considerate.
***
The experience of visiting somebody else's house wasn't an unfamiliar feeling for Fushiguro Megumi. He had visited the Gojo Clan many times, and even knew some of the members by their full names—something that had become a habit the more he was brought there by his sensei. In short, they were nice people, more nice than what the Zen'in Clan could ever muster in three hundred lifetimes. The number didn't matter much, because he had just made it up in his mind. It was probably also because he wasn't officially a part of their rival clan, in which they bore resentment towards.
He was the student of Gojo Satoru, the Strongest Sorcerer after all, and by extension—he could belong to the Gojo Clan if some strings were pulled. That was about it, though, nothing developed past that point, and the rest of his life went on to crash itself into the side of the road. Megumi wondered where they were now, after the whole fiasco with Cursed Energy being revealed to the entire world, along with the death of their most prized asset. Really... it hurt more to think about, now that it came to his mind.
The stay in Ioleta Russel's estate wasn't much different from back then. The Pegasus old lady was a very amicable woman, and he could tell that her care for Viviana was not misplaced. In regards to Viviana, she was like a daughter being embarrassed by their mother with the amount of nervous laughter she gave whenever complimented by Ioleta, or whenever small facts or habits about her were given toward him. The Sorcerer learned a lot... from the poems and novels she read, to the copious amount of this... "Margaret Nearl" merchandise and plushies that she had.
...The latter was the least embarrassing one for her, for some reason.
So... where were they now? Well, they were in the garden of the estate, used as a training ground for knights to practice and hone their skills. It spanned a large distance, much to the black-haired man's surprise. But that should have been expected, as a training ground needed a roomy area for spells and sword strikes to cleave across at their fullest capacity. A bottle too small for water would eventually break, so it was best to make it as large as possible to hold as much as possible. Such was the philosophy that Megumi believed was placed in this garden. Ioleta Russel hadn't put much care or attention to what was done to the breathing plants either, because they could always be replaced with magical plant Arts from what he heard.
Why they were standing at such a place was when a suggestion was brought up by the blonde-haired Elafian woman beside him. Perhaps it was vested curiosity in where his capabilities lied, but Viviana had actually asked him for a brief spar at the location. He didn't know why, but there was a burning curiosity underneath the passive pearly eyes of hers. Anything beyond that, Megumi hadn't much of a clue, such as why she wanted to see if he possessed any combat capabilities or not.
...So out of a developing curiosity of his own, he accepted the duel.
***
Viviana watched the black-haired man hold a strangely decorated O-Katana in his hands. She had researched many weapons before, and she remembered this one clearly from one of the books that her eyes had scanned over. It definitely matched the picture drawn from ink and pasted through machinery, too. Furthermore, her information and knowledge of it was cemented that one time there was a Higashinese knight displayed in the news during a competition match, who held a wide assortment of Katanas varying in size and use. It was strange though, in just a month, all trace and name of the knight had completely vanished, for reasons that not even the public knew—leading them to be completely forgotten as time passed. But not to her.
To describe it in more detail, the weapon had a multitude of... talismans, yes, that was the correct word; talismans. There were many of those papered tapestry aligning every inch of it, with Higashinese characters that she couldn't comprehend or read in the first place. They emitted a strange energy, like a cushion for an Arts Unit, so the Originium placed inside of it doesn't become unstable. In the case of the O-Katana her current opponent held, it was very... strange?
A corruptive force sealing another... corruptive force? She couldn't wrap her head around it, and she continued to struggle the more she attempted to get a better recognition for its function and inherent meaning. But aside from that, there was a rope tied around the sheath plastered with talismans, but she noted just how loosely it had been coiled around—like a serpent not ready to instill its chokehold. His hand held onto it, letting the rest of the weight of the blade bend the rope, and rest freely in the air.
She herself held a candelabrum. It was a three-pronged instrument which was made up of wax at each end of the prongs. A small flame was lit up on all of them, producing a smell which wafted across the scenery and calmed her nerves. She was used to the feeling, and so was she also intimate to the regulated battlefield that was this garden he stood on. Forget the knight tournament's constrictive walls, this training ground she had gotten to know with her surrogate mother was a world's length more familiar to her. It wasn't even a competition, for this singular place would beat any other in how vivid it had been in her memories, imprinting itself in her nerves.
"That is a strange weapon you hold, Megumi," Viviana paced across the grass, feeling the product of nature's care and love brushing against her silver boots, "care to provide a small story behind it? Before we begin, of course." The woman fiddled with her candle while gauging the other's reaction, watching as the prismatic rays of the sun reflected off of the estate's windows and splayed itself across the soiled ground.
"Ame-no-Habakiri?" Megumi raised the weapon upwards, the accessories attached to it fluttering ever so slightly from his movement, "it's just an O-Katana, graced with a... er, a few Arts applicative attachments. It's used to compliment my own fighting style," a small hitch in his voice occurred while giving off his explanation, but a fast recovery as a skilled speaker would have done was executed.
"I see... Ame-no-Habakiri, it's a name that brings a sense of mystique. Pardon me, you understand the Kazimierzian language to a wholly skillful degree, but I do not have a hint of understanding of your own native tongue." Viviana wrapped her fingers around her candelabrum, letting the flames coil around from where their position was, shimmering in the air for her eyes to see. But her focus wasn't on her side Arts Unit, it was on her soon to be opponent.
"It means "Feathery Cutter of Heaven," a bit pretentious, I know." Megumi presented the blade in front of him, for the Elafian woman to get a better view of it, while he continued his own pace across the wide garden. "The weapon was based off of a weapon I read off of mythology, I doubt it can be found anymore."
"An interesting facet of information to learn... the second part, however? Where it can no longer be found? I must say, I can't share the same sentiment." Viviana could feel herself somewhat disappointed by the last statement. "But that's enough of historical texts blown off into the wind to be forgotten. Feathery Cutter of Heaven... hm? I take it as swift as the name presents itself as?" The Independent Knight called out with a bit of humor.
"It's fashioned toward my needs, so I'd believe so," Megumi shrugged after placing Ame-no-Habakiri by his side, holding it loftily and without tense muscles.
Suddenly, a voice cut between the two, "are two ready to start the match?" Their heads turned toward it, revealing Ioleta Russel holding a stopwatch in her hands, clicking through its various functions, "I take that as an agreement to my words?" The Pegasus smiled warmly, adding a finishing touch like a chef ready to present their meal—by clicking the final function of the stopwatch. "A 15 minute match is the longest duration we'll strive for, and I shall act as the referee. Would you want me to provide commentary as they do in the arena?" A small joke was given at the end, matching her features.
"No—"
"No thank you—"
Two voices immediately shot up from where the garden was, the two people's attention having been completely direct toward Ioleta. For a moment, the blonde-haired woman placed a hand over her chest and fauxed a hurt expression, reeling back as if she were an old lady who had been pushed by two delinquents, "ah, look at you two! Have you grown rebellious, Viviana, to bully your mother like this..." she began crying crocodile tears, wiping it with her free hand.
"Ah... uhm..." Viviana found her words at an impasse, along with her train of thought. A wrench had been completely put into whatever gears were running in her head, leaving it to the other person beside her to respond in her place.
"I apologize on the behalf of your daughter, Ioleta Russel..." Megumi's free hand raised in the air as his head lowered into a small bow "...I will make sure her rebellious nature doesn't become too out of hand, you have my word for it." Mirthlessly, he played into the joke that was presented by the adoptive mother of Viviana, just as he had done countless times with Gojo Satoru. The brief silence while he was looking toward the ground while doing his bow left him slightly nervous, as if he had done something wrong...
...Unbeknownst to him, Ioleta was looking at her daughter Viviana with an impressed look, even placing her hands on her hips for further emphasis, much to the embarrassment of the Elafia.
All she could do was glance away and fiddle further with the candelabrum, hoping that Fushiguro Megumi would keep his head down for the entire duration. As if it were a miracle, the many "hints" her mother had sent her way had completely flown across the head of the black-haired man, resulting in the awkward situation not developing further.
"Ha~ get a hand on you two," Ioleta shook her head with amusement, before motioning for the two, "get into position now, I will be counting down from 5." She furthered her resolve to see the two battles as she brushed her hands in a way as a painter would, motioning for the knight and the Sorcerer to their respective positions. With her command, two sets of footsteps could be heard making their mark across the flat plains of biological emerald. Said emerald was breathing life of the air, respirating into energy to keep its existence a constant in the world, before its ultimate end would be granted.
However, such notions didn't matter to Fushiguro Megumi nor Viviana Droste. What they were both more tightly focused on as a tourniquet upon an arterial wound, was how their battle would play out. A variety of scenes played in their heads one-by-one, of who would execute the first maneuver, or who would streak their weapon across the field first. It was the make or break of their overall plan, for the both of them. That much was certain, and the stagnation of their bones made it furtherly clear.
"Five!"
The voice of Ioleta Russel came in, making the two stop fiddling with their weapons, and place it in a ready position.
"Four!"
Another countdown, signalling a combat stance to be entered by both respective parties.
"Three!"
For Fushiguro Megumi, he kept his stance as calm as he possibly could. The familiar stoic formlessness of his body provided a certain comfort, that his opponent would not be able to read any lines of the sealed book that his body was. Ame-no-Habakiri was still held tightly though, but his full body presented itself in front of his opponent.
"Two!"
For Viviana Droste, she held her candelabrum by her side with her left hand, while the Candle Sword by her side had been completely unsheathed. The many tufts of her black and white dress started to follow the trajectory of the wind, all the while her right hand pointed forward and slightly tilted to the ground, the blade in her hands providing a path of common defense in front of her.
"One!"
That was all that was needed.
"Begin!"
Without even revealing the potential charm of his weapon's gleaming blade, the Sorcerer charged forward like a raging bull, switching the grip on the sheathed Ame-no-Habakiri away from its reverse-grip and into a "normal" standardized hold somebody would take when holding an actual bladed sword. Taking in a deep breath of air, everything became crystal before his eyes.
A passage of the still sheathed Cursed Tool held in Megumi's hand carved a path heralded by great power.. The impact it left in the wind while coursing its way toward Viviana was nothing to scoff at, and the target of its ire hadn't taken the warning with a half-baked reaction. With fast precision, her one-handed Candle Sword drew an arc toward the left side of her shoulder, before being pointed vertically downward to block the strike.
CLANG
Two weapons clashed against each other, a gleaming silver against the paper-thin talismans of unknown Sorcery. A spherical shockwave occurred at their clash, passing through both of their bodies and disrupting the flow of the greenery below them. Only a moment was spared as the two stared into each of their eyes, one filled with slight disorientation at the sudden burst of speed, and the other with nothing but grave apathy. It was shattered like glass the moment Fushiguro Megumi spun around, ledding his sheathed blade slide off, before going for a flowing river of slashes with the still blunted weapon.
Viviana reacted quickly, seeing afterimages and visions of all the paths her opponent's weapon would take. It was too fast for her mind to register, whether it went for her head, side, legs, or arms; but her body could react fast enough. Still holding her weapon with one hand while her candelabrum started to absorb the light from the arid environment, the Candle Sword which had won her multiple battles waltzed across her body. It was then her body turned into a blur, multiple afterimages occurring as her body deflected each strike sent off by Fushiguro Megumi.
Seventeen, and ever growing. That was the amount of weaponized smites the two delivered against each other, all meeting with equal annihilation of their respective forces. Collisions continued to build up far past the number, as a dance of ivory and ebony cloth started to mix with each other, Viviana's white cloak brushing against Fushiguro Megumi's black haori, just as the shockwaves started to die out. Once it did, their blades were pointed at each other—each weapon steadily pressed against one another as they continued to circle the arena, all under the guiding eyes of Ioleta Russel.
'Ho~ what a magnificent display,' the Pegasus crossed her arms with an impressed look, watching as both the marigolds across the field, along with a plethora of different fluorescent flowers continue to sway from the aftermath of their clash, 'as if they're cheering for such a clash. A strange weapon, and a strange Arts Unit, but they look practical enough. Still, the boy in black still hadn't drawn his weapon...' The wheel was a curious object to Ioleta, but the strange weapon he held—obviously sealed—was a whole different box to untie and discover. She then watched as the two started a small conversation mid-battle.
"Fushiguro Megumi," Viviana stared at the still sheathed weapon while circling around their arena, "you still hadn't drawn your weapon?" Neither had he utilized the Arts Unit floating above his head, or prepared any spells with it.
"It's better that way," the words were vague, but the Sorcerer hadn't been telling a lie, "you're also absorbing light with that candelabrum of yours." It wasn't a good idea to tell the opponent that he had already discovered their ability, but Megumi was not worried at all about facing his current opponent. Call it cockiness and arrogance, but he just couldn't help himself.
"Hm..." Viviana's blade struck forward, but she wasn't the first one to initiate the attack, as her own action was meant as a defensive measure against the sudden turning slash of Ame-no-Habakiri.
CLANG
A second immense reverberation occurred, causing a pained cry of the wind to retch itself in between the two. Viviana took the brief moment of pause to open her mouth once more, and let the words held beneath her chest flow out.
"You said that uncontended strength would be the solution to Kazimierz's problems... what did you mean by that?" It had been bugging her ever since she had heard those words from the toneless voice of the man—having also betrayed a small hint of emotion from underneath the apathy. So... what did he see in such a value? To possess...
"If there's nobody to stop you, then theoretically, there's nothing that will impede your values of what a knight should be," Megumi dully responded, keeping his weapon pressed against Viviana's own, the both of them keeping their contact steady and refined. "Power doesn't corrupt absolutely, I don't believe in things like that. It just reveals who you really are, and if you really want to remind Kazimierz of what knighthood really is..."
Viviana watched as a distortion in the air itself was formed, making her wonder if she was seeing things. At that moment, her candelabrum had absorbed enough light, revealing a cascade of shadows which encompassed the entire scene, along with Fushiguro Megumi. She ducked her head at that moment, feeling a blunt object graze against her antlers, before swiping with her Candle Sword, being aided with the coalescing kiss of darkness. It was at that moment she could hear a tearing sound, along with a small droplet of blood flying in the air, before her blade was pushed back with a breakage of the wind, sending her flying backwards.
"Mmph!" She let out a small and meek sound as the impact settled in, and before her feet completely halted her advance backwards. Quickly, she glanced upwards to gauge the degree of gore she had inflicted on the black-haired man, but much to her relief found that it was only a small scratch dashed with blood. "Are you—"
KLNK
Her words were immediately interrupted when the golden wheel above his head emitted a faint light which overpowered her candelabrum for the briefest of moments, the incandescent challenging even the sun itself in the timeframe. It was... astonishing, and Viviana could only watch with bated breaths as it fully finished its rotation, the meaning having completely flown past her head in what it could have represented. But deep down, instinctively and logically, it was something that bespoke a harmonious tale—how she knew it—she didn't know. She didn't need to wait long, before a response was made to her interrupted words.
"Sorry," Megumi suddenly said with a deadpan, "it might have been disappointing with what I'm about to say, but I've been getting too used to fighting against opponents who can't utilize their Arts." Yet again, he spoke another half-truth. In the most naked of explanations, he had been becoming too content against battling opponents with the crutch of his Shikigami, and capabilities of disabling Arts with a certain spear forged by the Heavens. "I'll see what I can learn from you, Viviana Droste."
"I... thank you?" Viviana didn't know how to fully respond to his words, so her words came out confused but still soft. "I'll attempt my best to guide you with what you lack... then," the Independent Knight turned toward the Sorcerer once more, watching as his arm was pulled to the side, and then was brought sight of him planting it toward the ground. Her nerves screamed at her to act, firing off a full potential action as it dug into a tar-like puddle, splashing its serene blackness into the air while another formed just where her feet were.
Leaping backwards, Viviana saw as the weapon had erupted forward, before landing on the ground and—having her foot lodged once more into the ground. Her balance was completely thrown off like a tower tilting against the immense wind of the Ursus Northern Tundras, just as Fushiguro Megumi had dashed toward her, and making a slight flank to the right to make sure his movements weren't too obvious. To counteract this, the Elafian woman multitasked, attempting to regain her balance while flipping her Candle Sword around and holding it like a staff—the secondary function that was imprinted into its make-up.
Now utilizing it as a secondary Arts Unit, she swung it toward Fushiguro Megumi while the three prongs lit up with intense flames, flashing a bright light that made the Sorcerer briefly widen his eyes, and one that made him rear off course to avoid the attack that would have dealt significant damage against his barely reinforced form. A small eruptive explosion rang off against one of the walls of the garden, an activation of some sort of Arts reducing the damage that would have been done to the estate.
Megumi twisted his foot to stop sliding off the ground, and looked at the damage that had been caused before turning back to his dueling partner. She had already completely recovered her balance, the hems of her outfit shifting ever slightly while she spun her Candle Sword back into the sword stance he was familiar with. It was no longer utilized as an Arts Unit, but he would be careful to recognize that hidden feature of it next time.
"Vortex portals? Amazing..." Viviana let out an impressed breath. "Such capabilities over the shadows... not even I am capable of such a feat." She turned toward Fushiguro Megumi, the black-haired man twirling the sheathed Ame-no-Habakiri by the sheath portion, its attached rope moving with a pirouette-like glory. They moved in perfect synchronization, as if they were meant to be part of each other as wielder and wielded—perhaps even far more intricately than she would have expected. As if his entire being, his genes themselves were heeding the call of...
"I'm not the one capable of using my shadows purely offensively, either. So I guess that makes us even," Megumi responded, but was noted by Viviana of just how dry it was. His compliment didn't sound like a compliment in the first place, merely... a brush of her own compliment toward him, to substitute her own boons in place of his own. "It complements your flames and light manipulation, too."
"Fushiguro Megumi, I don't think many people could take your words seriously with the lack of passion it emits..." Viviana hoped her words didn't sound harsh, so she turned her eyes toward the ground while speaking "...so, I implore that you make it sound more passionate in order to avoid misunderstandings with others." She watched as the blood moons cradled in the eyes of Fushiguro Megumi turned toward her with a strange look, before it turned back to the normalcy it had been showing off before. Unsurprisingly, he shifted form the scene, brandishing the sheathed Ame-no-Habakiri in another direct charge.
"Fast..." Viviana let her own body burst with a grandiose speed, dashing across the battlefield to evade the black-haired man, but had found herself completely caught up with him the arc she was moving around. She raised her black to deflect a blow of his weapon, causing a lull in their position. Right after, they continued to run across the field, exchanging a degree of delicate blows against one another, all the while her candelabrum absorbed more light. One last deflection of her blade, and she pointed it toward Fushiguro Megumi, causing a flashbang to blind his eyes for the briefest of moments, before she commanded the shadows toward where her sword pointed, a variety of twisting slashes following the path in order to barrage the Sorcerer.
It would find no contact to his body, however, as his body sunk into the darkness that her candelabrum had caused, making the Independent Knight's worries start to flare up. Viviana hadn't expected him to be able to enter his own shadow puddles, so she continued moving across the scene, making sure her eyes scanned every single lot of the land in front of her to analyze where he had gone. When her steps landed on the ground, she saw a puddle appear in front of her, as the black figure of Fushiguro Megumi had shot upwards. Thinking quickly, she flashed her candelabrum, watching as the fire shot out from its tip drilled through his blackened body, leaving it to lose its form and splash as just liquefied charcoal.
"Hm?!" Viviana felt a presence behind her. She turned around to intercept the vertical blow that her body was telling her, but was fooled for the second time as it turned into nothing but splashing liquid the moment it made contact with her blade, "this...!" She felt an impact toward her left shoulder, rattling her entire being as she was sent to the side—almost losing balance from the sheer force of the blow. She recovered by leaning forward and dispersing the weight, pointing her blade defensively in front of her once more.
The actual body of Fushiguro Megumi held Ame-no-Habakiri by his side, his right hand hovering over the handle of his weapon, before straying away. His blade still hadn't been drawn, and his eyes still stayed the same impassiveness it had. Locks of his raven black tufts hovered as the gale caressed it, along with the flowy cloth of his black haori. He was an adversary, able to result in both tricky and dirty means to win a battle, and the farthest way a knight would fight.
Viviana thinned her lips, feeling the wave of malice radiating from his body, but it... just didn't match the expression he held on his face. She felt fearful of that side of him, the flipping of the coin which flashed that portion in front of her without so much as an indicator. However, that wasn't how a knight should be in the face of an adversary, just as the House Nearl motto declared, 'Fear Neither Hardship Nor Darkness.'
She decided to talk, "have you... ever experienced hardship in your life? To the point where undeniable fear overtakes yourself?" Viviana did not know if the question was appropriate for the black-haired man, but decided to go with it. She would not fear the darkness he held, she would act as the Radiant Knight would, and illuminate it to show the true qualities which lie beneath it—before a greater ocean was fallen into. The Elafia watched as the recipient of her question hovered his mouth open and creased his brows, as if contemplating a response.
"...Of course, haven't we all?" Megumi replied with the brief hitch before, eyes dawdling elsewhere before turning back to the blonde-haired woman in front of him. His hand fiddled with the thin ropes attached to his handle, jerking each of the soft contraptions.
It was there that Viviana was further affirmed that the black-haired man wasn't somebody who liked to talk about his own issues, and redirected it to other people—as a mechanism to play into their greater importance—while ignoring his own, "you shouldn't mitigate your own in the face of others."
"Why is this being brought up?"
Viviana observed the black-haired man's expression start to turn sour, "because—" she kept note of the many fluctuations across his features ever since the duel had started. There was confidence and arrogance laced with his every movement, and a decrepit sense of superiority that his body seemed to show against her via his casual fighting style. However, underneath that was an underlying false sense of security that he had been bathing in, and she knew, that he knew, it was all a thin veil "—have you read novels? Of the romantic kind, where two warriors understand each other in the turning clash of blades."
"...Is that applicable to real life?" Megumi raised an eyebrow, balancing the weight of Ame-no-Habakiri between his fingers, clenching and unclenching the weapon while he waited for a response.
"I'd like to believe so," Viviana responded, flipping her blade back to its staff form, "how about this? Do you understand me, after our previous bouts?" She asked earnestly, expecting at least a denial or approval toward her question. She stared at the flickering embers at the three prongs of the now turned staff, watching them dallying across the air in a sanctified manner.
"...Isolation."
"...Ah?" Viviana Droste blinked once, turning away from the previous sight she was presented with.
"I think you're isolated, trapped somewhere," Megumi frowned his lips, "but I'm not sure if that's an accurate interpretation." He saw the light of the candle only illuminate her, he saw the crawling shadows encompass everything else around her, leaving the woman as the only focal point in front of him. "I don't know if you think my words are accurate or not, but that doesn't really matter, does it?"
The Independent Knight stared at the black-haired man, feeling as the breeze started to kick up, bending all of the shrubbery, plants, flowers, and grass in its natural wake. Wherever it passed, the power it held was indescribable, yet unquestionable. A languid grip was held upon the scenery, letting only the turns of her hair cover her sight just for a brief moment, as Fushiguro Megumi's own locks of draping black strands did the same. She wanted to say something, to reciprocate the answer he had given to her, but all words sunk back down her throat, and into her heart.
"I'll do you a favor..." Megumi's right hand moved—and—for the first time, it landed on the handle of Ame-no-Habakiri, the talismans starting to loosen at the action undertaken "...If you really believe something like that, from the novels you read. I'll show you it, then, and tell me if you understand." His grip tightened, and his knees bent. It was the pinnacle of a Batto Sword Drawing stance. The experience of the past bled into him, of a Vengeful Curse which had encompassed the land, felling hundreds of men with single swings of such a refined art.
The First Samurai, and the Curse he bore.
Viviana watched the black miasma leak out of the blade, feeling her breath stop at that very moment, along with her heart. There were faint screams she heard, the revelling torture of souls lost in the bladed edge of the sealed weapon, being presented in all of its macabre glory. The posture, the eminence, and all in between... she could see it, the dark clouds of the skies swirling in and twisting to his will, the all encompassing darkness which threatened to swallow the world whole. Instinctively, her Candle Sword now turned into the position of a staff was raised upwards with her right hand, the small immolation at its three-prongs blazing, consuming all walks of luminescence, from where she stood, and off from the horizon. If only... if only to battle against this revelation of shadows that had bore its fang toward her, to... understand it. In this final clash.
A storm of light formed at her Arts Unit, a limit having been breached at the sight she saw. Prismatic colors echoed across the scenery in the most gorgeous sight Viviana had never been able to accomplish before. The pirouette of azure, crimson, and emerald moved together in unison; creating a blinding canvas of pristine pearls. Her eyes bore witness to it all, the beauty of her Arts, and the ugliness of the one she was about to war against. There was no substance, there was no bright color, there was no dashing mixture—only a raven fur mixed with a dash of blood aligning its edge. It was a weapon of pure destruction, meant only to reap the lives of which stood in its path, without mercy or compassion. The onyx liberation of ideals and virtue continued to rise just as her own virgin hues of purity.
A tincture was formed at the center of them, just as Viviana, the Candle Knight had closed her eyes in unison with Megumi. With a deft lower of her right hand, all the rich tapestry of art's most distinct ingredient gathered together in its spectral glory, heeding the motions of her purposeful movements. It was a symphony, guided by an object in the form of a candle.
On the other side, the descendant of Taira-no-Masakado let his arm flow freely, in the way of the destined path he was to undertake. The one guided by the hands of Fate, and he shall act as its Jester, dancing amongst the kaleidoscopic tints radiating around him, in order to drown it all in his unending sorrow and despair.
From the highest veneration of the celestial skies—
From the deepest discrepancy of the abyssal chasm—
They struck!