Chapter 22: Pleiades

In a way, having all five candidates working together to defeat an Archbishop and possibly destroy their gospel would be an incredible sign of goodwill and trust. It would, after all, show a certain unity in that those who would dare attack the Kingdom of Lugnica and its citizens were to meet judgement, not just from its queen but from all the priestesses.

It was kind of ironic, to see three of the four pillars gathering so easily. Though the candidates were technically all 'one' pillar until one was crowned queen, the ties of blood would forever leave Felt as the legitimate successor, but the spiritual ties which were so strong in this world would not allow her ascension to the throne so easily.

It was such a strange and fantastical thought that Lelouch felt more foreign than ever in the consideration of a prophesied throne ascension.

And therein laid his conviction that Crusch was the most likely to ascend the throne. Because prophecies were bogus. Because fate was nonsense.

Because those with the disposition of the king would make their own fate.

Lelouch wondered if the Dragon would make its appearance one of these days. It was old, after all. As old as the kingdom and older still.

It was almost time, he realized, looking over to the spell he had prepared on the balcony. It showed a rather crude approximation of the capital using the castle as 'main' focus. The miasma the Witch could be tracked through it, but only to the extent of tracking the usage of the Authority.

Flügel had created that spell to find Satella's 'sisters' in case they got into trouble.

If he had a good source of ambient mana, such as the endless well of power a Witch was able to offer back during their time, it might be able to track Pandora. Until then, this was a trial run.

"You seem distracted," Crusch said. Lelouch didn't answer, knowing not to lie and say he was fine in the presence of the duchess. Ferris was on the balcony, keeping Priscilla company. The rest of the menagerie was preparing to leave, spread about in the town to quickly find and take down the Archbishops once the call came. He would stay here, protected by Crusch and Wilhelm. "Or perhaps very ill."

Lelouch noted the beads of sweat on the back of his neck, suppressing a shiver. He couldn't hide the pale skin, however, or the unsteady breathing that came from shuddering lips.

Dying was unpleasant. And even when necessary, it never became easier. Every death could be a lost memory. Every failure brought him one step closer to the Witch of Envy's smothering embrace.

"I lived in a mansion like this when I was a child," Lelouch said. He could mitigate some of the damage that Aldebaran's knowledge of Britannia would eventually cause. Crusch leaned back, crossing her arms. Wilhelm stood behind her, steadfast and ready for anything, yet his schooled face betrayed the slightest hint of interest. Lelouch clenched a fist under the table. "But it's not the similarities that intrude on my thoughts."

"The differences, then?" Crusch asked, her voice less inquisitorial and more friendly than he was used to. "There's the theory that you're the Sage himself, after all. A name that is nominally noble, a disposition that speaks of the ruling class, and the talk of kingdoms that no longer exist."

"The differences," Lelouch conceded, ignoring the rest of her digging. "The major one would be warmth."

"Was it cold where you lived?"

Lelouch shook his head. "The weather itself was mild. It was the people. The looks in their eyes. Though there are many nobles in Lugnica who have the coldness that my countrymen had, it would be unfit to judge it by its worst. I would rather judge it by its best."

"And its best are?" Crusch's voice spoke of expectation. A wrong answer would be an insult, a lie would be worse.

"A knight with a compassion that defies absolute compassion," Lelouch said, closing his eyes. Thoughts of Reinhard made his heart heavy. He reminded him too much of Suzaku. "A princess with an iron-fist and a heart of gold," he nodded towards her, then opened an eye, looking toward the balcony where Priscilla was laughing a childish laugh. "Nobles who care."

"A heart of gold, is it?" Crusch sounded off, the edge of doubt ringing throughout the room. "What kind of heart do you have? The Golden should have a heart of gold? Or perhaps it is one of steel."

"In me beats nothing but the heart of a man," Lelouch said, tapping his chest with two fingers. "There's things I can't put into words, things close to me that I know would do nothing but increase your insatiable curiosity. Even as you stop seeing me as a threat to the kingdom or your claim to the throne, you and I will never share a bond so close that will let me speak to you."

"I wouldn't begrudge someone for being a private person," Crusch said, shrugging. "But it makes me all the more curious over who you could share such a bond with. Certainly not that Priscilla."

"Aldebaran knows more than many, but even he isn't fully aware of the scope." Lelouch pursed his lips. "This makes it… easier, I want to say, to speak about what I would rather keep private."

"That leaves your spirit and Reinhard," Crusch said. After a moment, she shook her head. "Perhaps the young lady Felt as well."

Lelouch thought of the diary he gave Reinhard. He nodded.

"Reinhard is easy to trust," Lelouch said, noting Wilhelm's twitching fingers. "He's powerful, he has influence, even if it is not on the same level as the Karsten and the Barielle family. Someone who has what they want follows their whims, not their ambition."

"It is the opposite for me," Crusch admitted, frowning. "A man with ambition is predictable. Someone who has no clear goal is very difficult to deal with."

"What kind am I, then?" Lelouch asked. The grin that spread on Crusch's face did nothing to give him confidence in her answer. "For someone who has been nothing but trouble for you, you are compassionate to an absurd degree. That's why I believe you have a heart of gold, Crusch Karsten. Though you see the death of the Witch Cult leaders as a net positive for you, any other noble would have wanted more out of it."

"The throne will be mine," Crusch said. "What more would I want?"

The door to the balcony was opened swiftly. Ferris rushed in, pointing at the magic map.

"Something's happening."

Lelouch and Crusch moved out. Priscilla, not wanting to be left out, stood with them as they observed the map. Flügel hovered over them, humming.

"Something's wrong," Flügel said.

Rather than the black splotches that were expected, the golden yellow map ended up tainted completely black. Lelouch felt a pit in his stomach.

"Duchess Karsten," he said, turning to the woman in question. "How large is the sewer system under the city?"

"It's the most sophisticated one in the world, as is appropriate for the capital of such a great kingdom," Crusch said, glaring at the map. "You think they're hiding down there?"

"No," Alchiba said. "That's not the miasma of the Witch of Envy in a gospel. That's…"

"Gluttony," Wilhelm said, his voice tight. "The Great Rabbit."

As if summoned by its name, Lelouch could see the massive amount of white rabbits dig their way out of the ground. They swarmed the city. The 'why' was left unasked, because Lelouch knew the answer. No matter how small his changes were, and in this loop they were not small at all, he didn't have all the information.

"It's drawn out by massive amounts of mana, but the Archbishops must've prepared it nearby

The spell to inform everyone was already on his lips, the mirrors appearing around him showing the faces of his allies in this pursuit.

"Change of plans," Lelouch said. He could minimize the damage to the city. "Alchiba, take us out of the city. We have to draw them out."

The Archbishops were to take him alive, which meant that the beasts were a clear distraction. They wanted him out of the city, and he was happy to oblige. The royal guard would be able to take care of whatever stragglers remained.

Flügel grew massive, big enough to carry all five of them out. Crusch looked at Wilhelm.

"Take care of this pest," Crusch ordered. "We will take the Archbishops on."

Wilhelm nodded, jumping off the balcony and running towards the flood of white fluff. They took to Flügel's back. Priscilla was holding tightly onto his right arm.

His left was taken by Crusch, who refused to look down. A fear of heights? Lelouch shook his head. He could file that away for later.

The altitude gave them enough insight on the damage that the rabbits were causing already. Lelouch could hear screams, he could see blood. Crusch looked furious, and Ferris looked ready to jump from Flügel's back to find people to heal.

Once they were far enough away from the city, Flügel grew even bigger. Using too much mana in the atmosphere was bad, but they didn't have too much of a choice. Whatever catastrophe would follow from the ambient mana being temporarily drained would certainly not be worse than the mess the rabbits would leave behind.

"SHAMS!" Flügel intoned. Lelouch felt his body drained of strength as a massive orb of golden light appeared above them. It sounded like a fire, and for a moment, there was silence.

And then came the flood. White upon white appeared, hundreds if not thousands of rabbits, multiplying over and over again.

Crusch, taking a deep breath, put a hand on the hand of her sword.

Wind mana spilled forth from her gate and gathered around the blade.

"We have to destroy them at once, or they will multiply within seconds," Flügel said. Lelouch frowned. Crusch cast a spell with her sword, the air in front of her distorting and cutting a hundred rabbits in half. They multiplied again, approaching even faster.

"Do you have something that could do it?"

"One spell, but it will take time to prepare," Flügel said. "And it might knock you out for a few days."

"Do it," Lelouch said. The alternative was dying, and he would rather avoid doing so again for a while. Reinhard and Julius should be joining them shortly, and if the rabbits all move out, Wilhelm would follow.

Flügel rose up towards the orb of light. Spirits of light gathered around him, Lelouch felt his body go through the wringer as the mana was gathered.

Reinhard's face appeared next to him, giving him a sideway glance. "Archbishop found."

Wilhelm's face appeared next. Emilia was with him, as was Puck, looking positively massive. "We have an Archbishop in sight. They were near your home, as you expected."

At least one thing went right. If he wasn't wrong, Aldebaran would have killed one of them by now, which meant there were two left.

"Kill them," Lelouch ordered. The yang sun crashed down on the rabbits, halting their progress. Wilhelm and Reinhard nodded. "And if anyone finds the gospel, bring it to me so I can destroy it."

Calling a fight against a horde of rabbits a 'fight' would be pushing it. It was a desperate scramble to stop them before they could reach them, no matter how many blades of wind were sent forward, the rabbits kept coming back.

So Lelouch did what he had done before. He stepped forward, and Crusch's furious expression slipped away when the rabbits stopped. In between the flood of white, he could see long hair peeking out. A small smile. Had Aldebaran failed?

Were there more than three Archbishops?

For such ravenous beasts, they sure were docile when it came to the orders of the Authority of Gluttony.

"Great Sage Spell," Lelouch heard someone whisper in his ear. He shivered, the Witch's voice causing him dread. "Seal my enemy."

"Al Khatm," Lelouch called the name. Golden light appeared under the masses of rabbits. Flügel followed, shouting it all the same.

It spread, as if seeking out every rabbit by itself. Lelouch could see the lines that the spell chained between them. It seeked out the mana, the unique imprint that everyone had, which was identical in that ridiculous amount of mabeasts.

Then, time stopped.

Lelouch could see it. The world of white. Satella, sitting under a tree, surrounded by the Great Rabbits.

Two-thousand black hands appeared and crushed them all into blood and gore.

Lelouch came back to find his hand around a girl's throat. She looked young, but bloodied from a fight that he had not fought. She smiled at him with fangs, not molars, and she looked ready to swallow him whole. The Witch's miasma on her was disgusting.

He squeezed and she crumbled to dust.

###

His vision cleared, finding himself in an unfamiliar bed staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. On his chest lay a gospel, black and charred, but devoid of any miasma.

A glance to the right saw Priscilla attending to him, sitting with a confident smile and a fan over her mouth. "Welcome back, Lelouch vi Britannia. You gave us quite a scare, but I suppose that flair of melodrama comes from that royal blood, doesn't it?"

"It's a pleasure to see you doing fine, Lady Barielle," Lelouch said. His throat hurt. She offered him a cup of water, and he couldn't refuse. After a few seconds to enjoying what little liquid he could force down, he continued. "I assume our plan succeeded?"

"It depends on your definition of success, people are happy," Priscilla said, nodding. "However, over fifty people died today, over half of those knights. There will be a memorial to honor the fallen."

It felt too easy, in a way. To have resolved this with only fifty dead.

Maybe relying on people who had the skills to handle things wasn't such a bad idea after all. And yet, for all his disdain of attachment, he felt that using them as a means to an end would leave a bad taste in his mouth.

"The Sword Saint and the little princess left when they received word from the Astraea mansion," Priscilla continued. "Crusch Karsten is left exhausted after using too much mana. Ferris is taking care of the wounded. As people have seen me with you, the fame of defeating another Archbishop and one of the three beasts has been split among the candidates and you, Sage vi Britannia."

"I don't think I deserve that title yet," Lelouch said. He saw Flügel, lying on the ground near the window, snoozing. "But I'm glad it worked out in the end. Perhaps the Witch Cult will think twice before sending people after me now."

"I doubt it, they're a tenacious bunch, but the loss of two authorities is significant." Priscilla crossed her arms under her chest, smiling a predatory smile. "It seems that the current climate is encouraging the sage council to push the royal election forward slightly. I heard they are seeking your advice."

"They should seek elsewhere, I care little for how they wish to choose their king," Lelouch said. He sat up properly, the sheets slipping off him. "I would like to thank you for taking care of me."

"We're even," Priscilla said. Lelouch nodded, incapable of arguing. "Aldebaran is back, but…"

"Hm?" Lelouch made a noise, blinking. Her expression had not shifted, but the light in her eyes had dulled.

"He wants to talk to you," Priscilla said. Her memories were back, but her behavior was still unusual. She had the voice of someone exhausted and annoyed, rather than angry about the humiliation she had to suffer. Lelouch stood up, almost stumbling over his feet. Priscilla held him up, letting him lean on her as she carried him to Aldebaran's room.

The Barielle mansion hadn't changed much since the last time he saw it. But the ambience was darker. More gloomy. Priscilla stopped in front of the door, giving him a sharp nod before opening it.

"Make it quick."

Lelouch nodded, walking into the room with uneasy steps. He felt tired, he wanted to lie down and sleep for the days that Flügel had promised him. Aldebaran lay in bed, his helmet still on, his sword by the bedside. Priscilla closed the door behind him, not demanding to be present.

"Hey, bro." Aldebaran's breath was shallow, the paleness of his skin spoke of an impending death that he refused to embrace. "I got something to share with you. Take a seat."

Lelouch did, unable to find the words to speak. Aldebaran coughed, trying to take off his helmet. As he failed, Lelouch aided him, the heavy metal coming off the man's head and hitting the ground with a sharp thud.

The face was scarred. Beyond recognition, some might say. But somehow, Lelouch felt a certain familiarity in him.

"There's someone else in this world, a countryman of mine," Aldebaran said. Lelouch frowned. Another Britannian, then? "I don't know his name, his real name, but he's dangerous. An Archbishop that might be able to defeat the Sword Saint. He calls himself Atlas, who holds up the world. I heard he wields seven spirits."

Lelouch's frown deepened, but before he could ask further, Aldebaran grunted, his hand slipping on his own blood as he tried to move.

"Can you tell me about our world?" he asked. Lelouch nodded, taking a seat next to the dying man. "Don't really have enough time for a long story. Tell me, Lelouch vi Britannia. Who sits on the throne of blood?"

"My sister," Lelouch said, whispering. "A nation at peace, the colonies are free, the emperor is dead."

Aldebaran's mouth twisted into a radiant smile. Blue eyes shone with joy.

"I suppose it wasn't all for nothing then, young prince," Aldebaran said, his body turning to sit up. The man's body was pale and cold as Lelouch helped him up. "If you ever find a way back, can you do me a favor?"

"If it is within my ability."

Aldebaran laughed, droplets of blood spilling from his lips. He used his sword to stand straight, unconcerned about its heavy tip piercing the wooden floor, and looked towards the bright sun. A mockery of a soldier's death, to have such a pleasant sunrise as he said his last. The sword fell away, leaving Lelouch to hold the man up.

"I fought in the war back then, before coming here," Aldebaran said. "For a cause I thought was right, and to this day, I will hold onto that belief. The peace you have given me, Lelouch vi Britannia, is one I cannot repay, such is its value to me."

"There's nothing to repay," Lelouch said, shaking his head. "All I did was out of my selfish desires."

"A selfishness born from the worry of others is no different from the compassion you pretend you lack." Aldebaran's hand came up to ruffle Lelouch's hair. Lelouch let him. "You are not the person you were."

Lelouch would agree. He wanted to say he was better now. But all the twisted desire to destroy the Witch's Cult to keep his sister safe was going to turn him to his old ways soon enough. If Pandora became more careful with her Archbishops, then he would have to take the fight to her. Aldebaran began to walk towards the window, Lelouch aiding him with every step.

"My name," Aldebaran said, his fading voice strong and resolute for just a moment longer,"is Naoto Kozuki. I died a rebel, leaving behind my sister and my mother."

Lelouch's eyes widened, of course the man seemed familiar. He had seen pictures once before, he had looked into those same eyes a hundred times-

"Tell them that I lived a good life here," Naoto requested, raising a hand. Lelouch grabbed his wrist, noting the soft grip on his own. "Tell them I have found happiness."

"I will," Lelouch promised. He hesitated for just a moment. "Your sister, Kallen, she was with me as we brought peace. You have a good family, Naoto."

Naoto's impossible smile widened even further.

Priscilla found Lelouch propping up a corpse, holding the hand of a fellow rebel.