Chapter 21: Alpha Tauri

Dread would not begin to describe the cavernous pit that had carved itself into his stomach. Lelouch was not someone who enjoyed stress, especially not with the conditional misery of a Witch holding his body hostage, exacerbating any and all emotional distress.

It didn't help that those who were capable of smelling the Witch on him were eyeing him with the suspicion that they would usually only reserve for the Archbishops themselves.

Though he wished he could have avoided it, Priscilla had joined them on the table in the Karsten mansion, holding her tongue for once. Lelouch had calmed himself down, but the cold sweat on the back of his neck was still not quite dry.

The table that they had gathered around was an unusually large dining table, stretching down the length of what would be a thrice the length of a normal hallway in any other home.

At the head of the table was Crusch herself, Ferris standing behind her. Next to her, but significantly further than four arm's lengths, to her left Priscilla and to her right Felt. Behind the former, no one, as Aldebaran was still busy, and behind the latter, Reinhard, looking ready to show once more why he had earned his title.

Captain Marcos was next to Felt, with Wilhelm currently near him as he served everyone tea. While Lelouch could understand the pleasantries, the rather sordid circumstances that brought them together made him impatient. Something that did not go unnoticed by the other guests. Anastasia Hoshin, across the Captain, sitting with her trademark friendly smile, with Julius behind her daring anyone to try something stupid.

The truly odd one out was Emilia, who sat next to Anastasia, across Lelouch himself, whose sole protection was a powerful spirit that sat on her lap, eating away at the biscuits that Wilhelm had brought earlier.

"We haven't had much time to go over the details," Crusch said, closing her eyes and crossing her arms. "Lelouch."

Not Sir Britannia, not Vi Britannia, not any poke at him despite the ideal time being now. If Lelouch hadn't already figured out her unwillingness to go for the dirtiest tricks in the book, he would have done so now, and he would have said he was disappointed.

"The Archbishop of Gluttony is in the capital," Lelouch said. Emilia gasped softly as Puck's gaze hardened.

"How do you know?" the great water spirit asked. Lelouch grimaced, grabbing his chest.

"I'll get to that," Lelouch said. He had some excuses, but he wanted to get the most important part out of the way first. "I've noticed when he came after me in this mansion, that strange miasma that follows Archbishops around was not actually originating from him. It stopped the spells that worked against the Archbishop of Sloth from working properly."

"So you could tell," Crusch said, nodding. It wasn't a surprise that she knew. Rather, the revelation was causing different reactions at the table.

"You were attacked?" Captain Marcos asked, his eyes moving to Wilhelm. "Here?"

"He's adept at hiding his presence, he's more stable than his brethren," Lelouch said, clenching his teeth. "And there's more. If you could indulge me for a moment, there are three things I know for certain, and one thing I'm guessing about."

He held up three fingers, but upon noticing the uncomfortable shake in them, he put his hand under the table. Nobody made mention of it, but Lelouch could see Captain Marcos' eyes narrow at the disdainful display.

"There are three things I know for certain, and one thing I am guessing about," Lelouch repeated, thinking back to the previous attacks. "Number one, we're dealing with the Archbishop of Gluttony, but there's something more concerning about that. Number two, there are more than one."

"More than one what? Archbishop?" the steel-like voice of Crusch cut into the room. The others tensed. There was a certain awareness, of course, in that the Sin Archbishops were avoiding to meet the threshold that would cause the Dragon to awaken. Multiple ones might end up drawing so much miasma that they were careful to avoid it, though even Lelouch had only become privy to such information due to Flügel, but it would not surprise him if the priestess candidates knew.

"Of Gluttony," Lelouch said. That worsened the reaction. "At least two, though Alchiba guesses it might be three."

"One for each great calamity," Flügel supplied helpfully. "It decentralizes the miasma, it means that the authority is split into three, and worse than that, it is possible that if one dies, the power simply moves on to the next Archbishop, making them more powerful and… more hungry."

"And the one that was here, alone, nearly overwhelmed us," Crusch said, an ugly expression on her face. Something usual, not worry, but close to it. "Only driven back by the desire to take you alive. You're saying we might not be enough, that's why you wanted to call the Captain."

"I think that Reinhard can take one," Lelouch said, nodding at the man. Reinhard nodded back, not out of arrogance, but as stating a simple matter of fact. "This brings me to certainty number three: As they're to take me alive, the best way to leverage that is to put me into mortal peril. It would be simple, a sword to my neck and they should back off, but-"

"You're an idiot," Crusch said. Lelouch smiled his most charming smile. The rest of the table looked none too pleased with the suggestion, only the Captain and Julius nodding. Priscilla looked actively upset, her ears flushing red. "No, you're not an idiot. You're a suicidal fool. You know as well as I that such a threat only works if you're willing to pull through."

"And think he won't?" Anastasia asked. Crusch slammed her fist on the table, making Priscilla jump. The reaction of the Barielle head drew the attention of the table.

"No," Crusch said, opening her eyes, a soft breeze around her. "I know for certain that he has every intention to die rather than be taken alive."

The outrage from Emilia and Felt was not contained. The angry shout of 'no' by Priscilla barely registered.

"It's better than letting them take me," Lelouch said. Knowing that he could still return, it was half a blessing and a full time curse. "But that's not the point, I need to know that the person who… I wouldn't say guards me, as I will certainly fight, but takes custody of me during the conflict is capable of doing what needs to be done."

"I'm sorry, Lelouch Lamperouge," Crusch said, standing up. "I'm afraid I find your behavior in my home insulting, as the implication that we will not be able to stop a few heretical monsters casts doubt over my name, my position and my ability to keep the subjects of my country safe. In front of the other candidates, even."

"I apologize, that was not my intention, Duchess Karsten," Lelouch said, his head lowering slightly. "I don't doubt that our joint offensive will succeed. It's another worry I have, the guess that I was talking about earlier."

"The guess?" Felt asked, leaning over the table. Reinhard didn't seem in the mood to fix her table manners. "There's something more bullshit they got besides getting stronger from dying?"

"My guess as to their true power, besides the grotesque speed and strength," Lelouch said, his eyes moving to Priscilla. "Is that they can steal memories. Alchiba is certain about it, and I am… not disinclined to the idea. I believe that Aldebaran, Priscilla's knight, has gone after one of the Archbishops to regain his mistress's memories."

Priscilla shrunk under the gazes, tears welling in her eyes. The answer about what seemed so off about her answered, Lelouch made a note to apologize to Aldebaran.

It wasn't an exaggeration. Lelouch was not good at telling the true strength of someone based on their mana, but if he had to guess, he would say that it might be very possible that Aldebaran had succeeded. Somewhere between this morning and this night, one of the Archbishops of Gluttony has or will die, and the other one or two will grow more powerful in return.

"We don't know if killing them all will return the memories, which means that whatever happens, we must not be affected by their Authority," Lelouch said. Everyone nodded, with only Crusch tilting her head to the side to measure Lelouch up. "But in regards to their possible increase in strength, I think the best way to kill them would be to use the communication spell and kill them as close in time to each other as possible."

"Mitigating their increasing power, and securing us a second Archbishop dead. What if we don't succeed?" Anastasia asked. Julius frowned at the implication.

"I believe that once the miasma has gathered in one person, though they're stronger, I should be able to disable them the same way that I have succeeded with the Archbishop of Sloth."

"You believe," Emilia whispered. "You don't know for sure?"

"I can only hypothesize, as every Authority of Sin has powers that defy what we would describe as logical magic. They're not the power of a Witch of Sin, they're the tainted power of a Witch of Sin drenched in Envy."

"So you'd bet your life on what, a guess?" Crusch asked. Lelouch shook his head. "I refuse to call it a hypothesis. Either you know something we don't, and I doubt you would hide that from us when your life is on the line, or you're truly a suicidal idiot. A nincompoop. A buffoon, an absolute-"

Ferris' hand on her shoulder made her stop. The cool air around her turned into something fiercer, more emotional than she usually allowed.

"Is the idea of laying down your life for the greater good truly that disdainful to you?" Lelouch asked. Crusch stood once more, her sword in hand. The knights stepped in front of their charges, and Ferris graciously took a position in front of Priscilla who had begun cowering.

"What I find disdainful, Lelouch vi Britannia," Crusch said, her voice rising with the strength of the wind, "are those eyes. Not of someone who is fine with dying for a cause greater than himself, but of someone who had already resigned himself! You have no sense of self-preservation that could be thrown in the wind for the sake of something that could be called a greater good, there is honor in someone who walks around like a corpse staring death in the face! How much have you sacrificed already to stand here like you have nothing left? Have you not made friends?"

Her gaze moved to Reinhard and Felt, the latter who couldn't decide whether she should smile or frown at the scrutiny.

"Have you not met people who bring forth a burning desire in your chest?" Crusch continued, slamming her sword against the ground. "Have you not seen the beauty of Lugnica, and found people you wish to protect? Do you not have goals? Ambitions? Any semblance of human emotion that isn't a carefully crafted mask?"

Lelouch raised an eyebrow, uncertain where the outburst had come from. Crusch was slightly out of breath when she sat down again, the wind calming down.

"I have sacrificed all once before," Leouch said diplomatically. Pandora knew everything already, which meant sharing something to see Crusch appeased might not be a bad idea, it certainly would not be a net loss. "No one dies."

"It should never be easier to die," Priscilla said, the sudden insight almost causing Lelouch to trip over his own words. The red, glistening eyes were clearly showing she had not seen her memories back, but her mouth kept moving. "Aldebaran said you're a prince. That's why you took care of me, because I'm… I'm the princess, and you're the prince."

"A country without king is a country still," Lelouch said, bridging his fingers on the table, his apology to Aldebaran stricken from his mind. The man had overshared. "A king without country rules naught but hills."

No one questioned him. No one voiced their opinion that it was impossible for Lelouch to be a prince, of some country unknown to them, or anything in regards to his disinclination to disagree with Priscilla's observation.

In a way, the Sage, as fourth pillar, had the disposition of a king after all. To become one, would the right to rule not lay in his hands?

"Any questions you have for me can wait until after we've killed the Archbishop," Lelouch said, standing up. Priscilla stood as well, running around the table to hide behind him, her fingers digging into his arm. He glanced towards Reinhard who did nothing but nod at him. He met Crusch's eyes, his hand moving to his collar. "I am preparing a spell that will help us pin down all the Archbishops. Crusch Karsten."

"Lelouch vi Britannia?" she questioned, her eyes narrowed and the corners of her mouth twitching downwards.

"I will survive," Lelouch promised. Priscilla's fingers dug deeper, but the pain was bearable. "You'll find that dying has never stopped me from being true to my promises."

"You're outrageous and I want to bash your head against the wall," Crusch said.

"She likes him," Puck whispered into Emilia's ear, who flushed red at the implications. No one but Emilia, and the wind-blessed Felt and Crusch, could hear. The glare from the Duchess Karsten was enough to make the great spirit hide behind Emilia.

Lelouch left towards the balcony, leaving the rest of them be. Priscilla followed him before he turned around.

"Priscilla," he said. She still looked upset. "Princess. Could you do me a favour?"

"Y-yes?" she asked before stumbling over her words for a moment. "M-m-my prince?"

"We're going to get your memories back, but I need to concentrate when preparing this spell to find the people responsible," Lelouch said. "Could you take a seat at the table for that moment? You could ask Puck if he'd like to play with you, he's a rather funny cat."

Priscilla looked unwilling, but the appeal to her childish spoiled persona was more than enough for her to relent. Lelouch smiled at her, bowing and kissing the back of her hand. She turned around, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks.

Lelouch turned around, hiding his own expression as he sat down, a pen in hand that could draw on the surface of the balcony. Crusch wouldn't mind, it could simply be taken care of with the repairs of the other room that the Gluttony Archbishop had crashed.

The tip of it snapped against the ground when he put in too much force.

"You're angry," Flügel concluded, sitting on Lelouch's shoulder as he prepared a circle of Yang magic. "She struck a nerve."

"Of course she did," Lelouch admitted without shame. "Because her words aren't wrong, and yet the implication that I do not understand true sacrifice makes me behave like a toddler on the playground."

"She doesn't know everything," Flügel said, trying to sound as diplomatic as possible. The bird ruffled his feathers. "You could be honest."

"You speak from the experience of a Sage," Lelouch said, drawing a simple rune as Flügel had instructed. "I speak from the experience of a noble on the court. Honesty is not always the best, it can give people wrong ideas, it can turn allies into enemies, it can cause further questions that I might be more unwilling to answer."

"Because? Why are you so unwilling?" Flügel asked. "You don't want to get close to people, I get that, but why do you hate her in particular? You're not showing that much emotion when it comes to the other candidates, even your friend Reinhard can't bring that much ferocity forth. Not even Aldebaran managed to get you this upset, and he knows everything about you."

"He doesn't know about everything," Lelouch said, grimacing. "Because if he did, I might have to kill him."

"You know that's not true, you'd just try to put your own spin on everything," Flügel said. Lelouch didn't deign him with an answer. "You don't like to get close to people because you're afraid you'll get hurt, it's not exactly a complicated character trait. Every third novel protagonist is like that."

"I don't want to get close to her because I'm worried they will get hurt," Lelouch said, hating himself for admitting it. Felt and Reinhard in particular, though he was less worried about the latter's safety rather than emotional state. "Because I have come to like them. You're my spirit, you know that, you can feel what I feel."

"It's muddy with you, your emotions are stilted. I can barely tell if you like me. But about Crusch Karsten, all I feel is conflict."

"I hate that I like her," Lelouch hissed. He looked over to where the strategy meeting was happening. He had gathered enough magic around him to stop the wind-blessing from carrying their conversation back. "I hate that hardness and fairness, I hate that conviction, I hate that ambition-"

"You hate her because she's like you."

"No," Lelouch said, shaking his head, almost too vehemently. "I hate her because she's better than me. Better than all of Britannia. Because she loves her country and its people. Even if she were to lose the kingdom to another candidate, she will fight to the death to defend the new king. That is the kind of person she is."

Unlike him, kinslayer, murderer, betrayer.

The hand around his heart caressed it. He shivered.

###

His name was Aldebaran.

Strength of the bull, a star bright enough to be seen with the naked eye.

And he crashed in like a shooting star.

While he had told Lelouch that it would take a few days or a week at most, he had lied. He knew full well that it would take less than a day to track down the miasma from the tool that Priscilla had given him. The reason why he needed to buy time was simpler-

He wasn't sure he was going to win.

Aldebaran's body crashed through the wall, the enhancement of the Blue Dragon Sword granting him enough durability to avoid any injury. There, on a table of decadent foods and various limbs lay a girl with long, filthy hair stained with blood and crumbs.

Self indulgent glutton.

"It's you again," the girl said, her body shifting off the table. "Who was it again-"

Her face shifted. And shifted. And shifted. She went through various people's appearances before returning to normal.

"Ah, I haven't gotten her name, you stopped me," the girl said, blinking. "Priscilla Barielle. I want her. Where did you hide her?"

Aldebaran's answer was a swing of his sword. The girl's teeth dug into the blade, causing it to creak in fright, echoing the sound of a dying dragon. His fist was raised high, smashing into the girl's cheek. She barely flinched.

Her grin spread, and with one bite, the sword snapped in half. But instead of weakening him, the pieces of the metal moved. They crawled up his arm, onto his shoulder, and down his left arm. His eyes glowed beneath the helmet.

When his metal left fist hit the girl this time, it knocked out teeth and sent blood spurting against the wall. Her grin was gone.

Her appearance changed. One that was familiar to him. One that he knew would be more than able to match the strength of his Blue Dragon Sword Fist.

Neiji Rockheart, Strongest of the Gladiators, took his stance.

Aldebaran mirrored him.