In a certain room in a certain mansion within Pecunia, the temperature was dropping rapidly. One minute it was heating to the point of boiling, then the very next saw small flurries attaching to the ornate columns lining what appeared to be a pretentious throne room. Because frost now covered the floor, Bayeth Quoro was forced to slowly and carefully tread through the room to avoid slipping. A determined expression masked the trepidation and abject terror she felt within her mind as she steadily made her way towards her seated father, her trusty dagger still sheathed but accessible to avoid accidentally stabbing herself while walking.

He sat at his throne, a place he hid from public view but used frequently whilst dealing with his own political faction. Moist, misty breath escaped his slightly blue lips while he churned his own magic cycle again and again to heat the air around him. Normally, because his own pyromancy did not affect him like it did others, he preferred to keep his throne more than stiflingly hot as a showcase of his power. Today, his daughter was trouncing his dignity with an opposition far more extreme than he thought possible. Ice began to craw up his leg and he tried to shake it off vigorously, only to realize his foot was frozen to the floor. His daughter continued making her way towards him, her expression set.

Starting to panic slightly, as he was not sure how far she intended to take this farce, he tried ignoring her so he could focus on his own cycles, hoping to at least free himself before she could make it all the way to him. The panic, however, prevented him from getting proper hold of his Magic Soul and he started pushing the cycle unnaturally without noticing. His unnatural magic was rarely used, so it was correspondingly weak. After all, what use was filling an object with fire when he could simply fill the whole room?

He barely noticed when the throne he was stuck to started to smolder and burn. Meaning, he realized he could move his hands and bottom once again when he tried to put his now burning clothes out in a fit of slapping motions and manic cries. Bayeth faltered slightly at this sight, thinking perhaps he was goading her closer. Her dignified father would never lose control of his power and burn himself… surely? Was it a trap? Her father felt differently.

What the hell is wrong with this kid?! How did she get so powerful?

Firming her heart so that she could, for the first time in her existence make a decision for herself, she set her face once again and took the last few steps to her now on fire father. With a pulse of magic the fire was extinguished and he was frozen once again from the waist down. Not wanting to take any risks, she waited at the bottom step leading up to his throne and pushed even more power into his form, the ice creeping higher and higher up his body until his arms were also bound. If she hadn’t been so nervous, she might have noticed that instead of his usual dismissive glares, he looked terrified. She carefully made her way up the three steps as she drew her dagger.

He tried to reason with her, but he was so cold he could not manage to actually say anything. Just whimper. She placed brandished the dagger towards his neck with shaking hands.

“Do I pass?” She asked fearfully. She never knew when his power would explode out and set fire to her once again. Healers could remove the scars on her skin… but never her mind.

He tried to agree that she had, in fact passed, given he wanted to live… but he was unable to vocally portray it so he tried to communicate with the only moveable joint in his body. He nodded his head quickly but with shallow movements.

Sunshine came to Bayeth’s face as she left the throne room, her request to go to Syron’s Masquerade event given a positive response. In her neglected heart, she even thought he went easy on her as a sign of affection. In her naïve mind, she never once considered he had already resolved to kill her soon. After all, he would suffer the presence of no monsters within the Quoro House… except himself of course.

When the butler came to investigate the open door a short while later, he found his master unconscious from magical strain and frozen from the hips down, surrounded by a field of frost flowers.

* * * * *

Captain Blake stared at what appeared to be a coffee stain in his carpet. He was curious about the brown mystery stain in his office rug, but not enough at the moment to put his nose against it and sniff. He hoped it was coffee. Surely… surely it was coffee, right? Blinking hard to clear his head, he resolved to check later. Shaking the thought from his mind, he continued to kneel before the Prince standing over him.

“Prefect Captain, We are to understand there is a festival of sorts occurring within your district tonight. Is that so?” Prince Rue said with condescension.

Ha! Festival my foot! More like an impromptu block party involving magic disguises and probably all the crime in the city.

“Yes, your Highness. The Forrester House seems to be putting on some sort of party in our main plaza this evening.” Captain Blake responded without lifting his head.

Pass the blame for this crap show on to the brat. With any luck, I won’t be held completely accountable for when this whole district goes to the dogs.

“Very well. We have brought a platoon of royal guards to help with security. This man beside Us will be in charge of them. Work together and we might get through this without too much difficulty. You may look up.”

Eh? I get help? For real? Most of the other districts sent messages declining my requests for assistance, so adding Royal Guards will make a huge difference. Even if he is the one in charge, we’ll make it work.

“Furthermore, We have sent delegates to the other nearby districts to have them send any extra work force they have available. This shall bolster your numbers significantly. You will be given full authority to command them as though they were your own.”

Blake forced himself not to start dancing on the spot.

“We have other obligations, so We shall be leaving. Good luck tonight Prefect.” Prince Rue turned on his heels and left the room. The Royal Guard in charge stepped up to Blake with a smile on his face.

“It has been a while, has it not, Blake? It is great to see you!” Royal Guard and Captain of the security task force, Ulrick Lichtenstein, held his hand out to his former classmate. Blake took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, though he didn’t really appreciate the gesture. Ulrick shifted his shoulder down and displayed his signature collapsible lance on his back before playfully winking at Blake.

“That it has, Sir. Thank you.” Blake responded mechanically.

Last time I saw you, you had just kicked the crap out of me in the arena after shaming and pressuring me into accepting a pointless match. Then made it a spectacle by inviting half the student body. As far as I’m concerned, you can go &#@$ yourself.

“Anyway boyo, come with me to the map of the district so I can tell you where to put the prefects.”

Blake sighed internally. Yep… should have expected as much.

* * * * *

Seeing is not believing.

Renee chuckled to herself as she watched her Young Master prance about on stage and ‘sing’ his little heart out. She wasn’t sure how much of the show was being produced by the small team of illusionists that the Young Master had recently hired as part of his new ‘Idol Initiative’, but if she had to guess based on their blank faces when he was originally showing them what to do… they were currently feeling pretty inadequate.

The Young Master certainly has a way of going ‘So you do this thing, this thing, and this thing, and then this happens!’ but his things he has you do are humongous steps and the product is a friggin’ light show with a singing tween. Nevermind each step being too much for one person, the Young Master is probably doing all of it.

“Hey lady… I haven’t seen you around these parts before.”

Groan! Ugh! Not again!

The smiling man admittedly didn’t have a terrible face, but he had a glint in his eye like he was too knowledgeable of the fact that he was semi-attractive. Also, this was the third time she was bothered in the past ten minutes.

Just because I look like I regularly bathe these men turn into predators.

“Shhh… I’m trying to enjoy the concert.” Renee politely shushed the man. She was doing her best to not snap at the guy. It wasn’t his fault, necessarily. Obviously, given her clothes and physical condition, she was well-to-do. Since she was alone, she was unlikely to be a noble directly… therefore a servant of a noble household.

Though, if he knew which one he’d likely immediately think of somewhere else to be.

“Aww… don’t be like that. Who care about some rich twerp when you can spend your evening with an honest man?”

I do. You imbecile. I really, really do. Not that you’d understand.

“Kasu… nevermind.”

Yikes. I nearly called for Kasumi to get this guy away from me… am I angrier than I thought at him calling the Young Master a twerp? Well… I might be irritated… but Kasumi would be murderous. It’s best I don’t get her involved. Sometimes I really do wonder what happened to make her change like that… it was so sudden.

“And Fairy Blue you are my everything! The reason that I live.” The Young Master continued crooning from the stage.

Fairy Blue… what does that even mean? Where did this song even come from? His rehearsals were just him sitting quietly and alone in his room for hours, so this is the first time I’ve heard it myself…

“Tch.” The pesky ‘honest man’ finally took the hint and was leaving.

Apparently, the lady wearing a red and black dress with a rabbit mask on was a better choice for him? Good luck dude… that woman is clearly nobility, and that man slash ogre next to her looks like he lures children into the woods and eats them for breakfast. Or maybe just for fun.

“Did you hear that? The Lord Forrester is hiring Illusionists? Isn’t he worried about what people will think of his organization? Why would he need so many enchanters and activators as well? Isn’t this all very suspicious? You don’t think he is planning a coup, do you? You can’t trust Illusionists, after all!” A nearby woman was saying carelessly to the man next to her.

Right… people still actually think that about him. Honestly, until I started working for him for a while, I might have felt the same. Unfortunately for any rebels… the Young Master doesn’t care about anything like that.

When the Young Master finished giving his speech and the lights came back on, she couldn’t stop herself from laughing out loud.

That little twerp!

Renee walked out into the crowd parting around her and chose the first pleasant looking girl she encountered. Holding out her hand gracefully, Renee bowed her head lightly then smiled brightly at the girl.

“M’lady… care for a dance?” The girl froze in surprise, looked at Renee with scepticism, then took the offered hand before beginning to dance.

“Cards on the table, I’m not Syron Forrester. He thinks he’s funny though when he makes me look like him.” Renee admitted to the young girl with a voice that did not fit the illusionary body.

“I know. You are his maid. We have met before, but it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance none the less. I would actually like to meet with him again. I feel the last time we interacted, we did not end it on such pleasant terms.” The young woman spoke primly. Renee reeled.

Shoot… I can’t tell who this is because of the illusion, but she knows who…? No way… this isn’t the Young Master playing a prank on me, is it? Crap… I’m going to think this of every person I talk to tonight, aren’t I? This game is the worst!

“You have me at a disadvantage, miss. May I ask to whom I am speaking with so I may pass your message on to the Young Master?”

“Natalia Forrester.” The girl said as she removed her hands from Renee’s.

Then Renee blinked, and the girl was gone.