Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha Fan Fiction ❯ Movements ❯ 04 - Taking the Queen ( Chapter 4 )

Elemental Transmutation, or alchemy, is not so much a form of magic than it is a form of science. It is both a magic and a science. It is the instant application of scientific processes to any given material, to transform it to another through magical aid and adherence to the basic laws of alchemy. To fully master alchemy, one must have a firm grasp of both conflicting subjects. A common practice for alchemists would be to first draw the necessary magical circle and symbols, each one representing a part of the formula; followed by the use of magic to activate the formula, producing the desired results. This book aims to teach the aspiring students the fundamental concepts, rules, techniques and application of alchemy.

 

Opening of the Elemental Transmutation Textbook of Merdiana Magic Academy

 

“Are you sure you need so much reinforcement?” The face on the screen adjusted his glasses and looked from his clipboard, “It is only a search and capture mission.”

 

Admiral Lindy wished she could punch him through the screen and communication link connection. That face! That uncaring, unconcerned, unwilling face!

 

“Yes,” she finally answered, struggling to keep her emotions in control, “One of my best mages is missing in action. The city is too big for a mere group of five. I would appreciate if the Bureau would provide the necessary manpower for such a wide-scale search.”

 

Fate was missing.

 

The bookish manpower officer on-screen sniffed dismissively. “I feel your anxiety,” he replied without a hint of any, “However the numbers you requested seemed more like an army than a search party. Are you sure no Lost Logia are involved in this case?”

 

No, you do not. All you care is about those numbers on that clipboard of yours. At least, that was what Lindy wanted to shout at that obnoxious man, preferably inflicting some painful, non-lethal punishment to his face. With effort, she kept her fantasies of breaking that clipboard over his head restrained and answered evenly, “None, to my knowledge at least.”

 

Fate was missing.

 

The man scratched his head with the clipboard, further fueling her furious fantasies. “The Bureau will look into your request and see what we can do. Until then,” he saluted, “the best of luck with the mission.”

 

Admiral Lindy returned the salute half-heartedly as the screen went black. She remained silent, deep in thought while her hand reached subconsciously for her cup of green tea. She took a hasty gulp, before spiting everything back in the cup due to the scalding heat. Dejectedly, she pushed the cup aside with a sign.

 

Fate. Was. Missing.

 

They had only just moved into the apartment Amy had found for them. The moment the door was locked, everyone was back into action, setting up the communication networks and checking the home for possible intrusions. There was not a minute to waste. Arf, Chrono and Nanoha were already outside, searching the city for clues of Fate's current whereabouts. The apartment was empty apart from Amy and herself. Even now, Amy was transfixed on the multiple holographic screens before her, scouring all the electronic intelligence available to them. Hospital records. Police reports. Internet chatter. Anything that could be of use to them.

 

Admiral Lindy laid her head on the couch, strained eyes granted a brief rest. However sleep was not forthcoming: a single thought dominated everything, pushing everything else to the sidelines.

 

Fate. Was. MISSING.

 

Nothing else mattered. Their only clue to Fate's fate was that their thief, their target, might be the one responsible. For that, the mission had taken on a new urgency and a personal agenda. They will catch the thief. Even if it meant flooding the entire city with a hundred—no, three hundred!—TSAB troopers. Then, they will make the thief tell.

 

The windows slid open and Nanoha entered, still clad in her sailor uniform-modeled barrier jacket. She landed softly, clearly exhausted from all the activities so far. Without pausing for breath, she ran towards Admiral Lindy, a look of excitement and anxiety across her face.

 

“Lindy-san! We have found Bardiche!”

 

Lindy perked up immediately, almost snatching the yellow intelligent device from Nanoha's hands. It was still attached to Fate's barrier jacket glove, a single crack running through the smooth surface.

 

“It was left abandoned on a rooftop close to where we lost Fate,” Nanoha continued her report, her eyes occasionally glancing back to the window she left open. She was already thinking about returning to the search. After Lindy, she was probably the most anxious of them all. After all, she and Fate had gone through so much together. They were almost inseparable.

 

Lindy ran her hand through the surface of Bardiche, and the chip gleamed in acknowledgment.

 

“Where is Fate now?” she asked the intelligence device.

 

'Sorry. The information is not available, sir. I was lost from the hands of the assailant before Master Testarossa was declared missing,' the voice replied stoically.

 

“Thank you,” Lindy sighed wearily as she passed the chip to Amy for repairs, then she turned her attention to Nanoha.

 

“You too, Nanoha. You should take a rest,” she added to the young mage, “You have not had any sleep since the flight.”

 

“I'm okay, I can continue the search,” the girl answered quickly, “Fate is still out there somewhere.”

 

Determination. That was what Admiral Lindy saw in her eyes. One of the greatest aspects of her personality which made her one of the greatest rising stars of the Bureau. However, determined persistence isn't always an advantage...

 

She looked at Nanoha, the girl trying so hard to fight her exhaustion, stifling an unwelcome yawn. “Rest. Now. This is an order,” she shook her head, also feeling the tiredness in her bones.

 

“But-

 

“At least for a couple of hours,” she relented slightly, “go and sleep for now. I can keep vigilant alone.”

 

With some coaxing, Nanoha reluctantly transformed back to her civilian clothing, replacing Raising Heart's passive mode to its familiar place around her neck. Then, Lindy gently accompanied her to her assigned room, each of them thinking about what they need to do next. Everyone had a tiring night, everyone had been exhausted. It would be a good time to call Chrono and Arf back to rest for a while. The search for Fate would be her burden to bear.

 

“I...I shouldn't have let Fate chase that thief alone,” Nanoha whispered with guilt building in her voice, “If only I had gone with her, or went myself...”

 

“It was not your fault,” the officer replied, patting her head. “It was mine,” she added mentally. “I could have stopped her from going after the thief at the ruins. I could have been more vigilant. I am responsible, not the poor, guilt-ridden girl before me, trying to control her tears and emotions.”

 

I wish I could cry too, but as an officer, I need to keep a level head for everyone else.

 

“Fate-chan said she wanted to talk to the thief. To convince him to return that thing he took from you,” the girl continued, rubbing her eyes of tears of guilt and tiredness. She was starting to sob slightly.

 

“It's okay. Fate is a strong girl. She will be fine. Get some rest now and we will continue later,” Lindy consoled both herself and Nanoha with her best soothing voice before something caught her attention, “My what?!”

 

“The thing that the thief took from you. Fate went after him because she wanted to get it back.”

 

That... oh no... Admiral Lindy groaned to herself. That was the final straw. If only she had been more careful, more cautious. In her bid to win over Fate's heart... Now Fate was missing because...

 

“That box...” she sank to her knees in despair and guilt, “They only contained photos!”

 

---------------------------------------------

 

Perhaps it was the strange smell of burning sausages. Perhaps it was the sound of roaring fire followed by the yelps of surprise and hissing steam. Or perhaps it was all of the above.

 

Whichever the factor was, Fate woke up on the unfamiliar bed, feeling most refreshed and energetic. There was nothing like a good night's sleep to get one to feel much, much better.

 

The bed was most snuggly, almost too comfortable to wake up. But wake up she did, stretching her arms to rid them of the sleep. Scratching her hair in appeased satisfaction, Fate mumbled incoherently faintly to herself, looking around the surroundings through sleepy eyes. Sun rays filtering from behind the drawn curtains provided just enough light for her to see clearly and tell that it was daylight. That was when she noticed the strange pattern on the bedsheets, small patches of reddish-brown that stained the otherwise perfectly white bed sheet.

 

Then there was the strange tattoo on her arm, three bands of black, each one labeled with roman numerical, I, II, III. One, two, three...

 

Then she realized that she was still in her barrier jacket, except it did not feel so protective anymore, being somewhat skimpy and all... and there were also parts there were torn, cut, exposing her fair skin beneath.

 

The events of the night before slowly prodded their way into her memories, like embarrassed late-comers to the pictures, before asserting their presence on every thoughts, reminding her what had happened and nudging any feelings of comfort or peace out from her mind.

 

She had better contact the rest through the mental link.

 

“Admiral Lindy!”

 

Nothing.

 

“Nanoha-chan!”

 

Nothing.

 

“Bardiche, we are going,” she stated, pushing aside those warm blankets and getting up hurriedly from the bed.

 

No comfortingly neutral reply of “Yes, Sir.”

 

She raised an uncovered hand to eye level. Her glove, the one which Bardiche was attached to was missing. A creeping sense of dread came to her. There was no reply for a simple reason. She could not sense any mental communication link between them. She could not sense anything that was remotely magical at all. She could not even feel her own magic.

 

She raised the other hand, tried to concentrate on forming something, anything magic on it. Even a simple lighting spell will do. No reaction.

 

It was like that time when the Belkan Knights took her linker core, except worse. At least that time, there was something left. At least she woke up with everyone by her side.

 

This time, there was nothing. Except for the charred smell of burning eggs and thinly veiled cusses from outside the room.

 

That was when she started to take in her surroundings, attempting to make out her current location in a bid to close the doors in her mind to even more fear and panic. She needed to keep calm, keep cool.

 

Fate had been into many personal rooms before: Nanoha's, Arisa's, Suzuka's, Hayate's, even Chrono's. They were usually neat and organized with posters of their favorite stars or a personal touch or two. This place... could be considered neat to a certain extent... if neatness meant organized chaos. It was as if great care had been taken by the usual occupant to categorize the mess before her. Books, towering stacks of books were placed in a specific corner of the room. Another corner hosted a pile of clothes, some torn, some bloodied but mostly wearable. Posters of the local variation of magical users doted the wall as they pleased, they in various poses, holding staffs, wands, swords... A small desk and a suite of drawers, both with their top surfaces covered with a layer of paper and dust completed the collection of furniture within.

 

The door. She approached it cautiously and reached for knob. It turned, unhindered. Before Fate decided to truly open the door, she checked around her for anything that can act as a weapon. It felt strange, exposed without the steadfast presence of Bardiche or magic. Her sonic form barrier jacket was still on. Those armored plated boots could probably do some serious damage to any unknowing person's foot. That should do.

 

The door swung open as Fate hid behind, waiting for any traps to be activated. No movement. She then took a peek outside, keeping her guard up against any possible surprise.

 

The scene looked harmless enough. The boy, the thief from the previous night was seated at the table with a glum look on his face, poking whatever was on his plate gingerly with his fork. He was dressed in a similar robe from yesterday's battle, pale faded brown from multiple washing and his staff, the one which hit her, was leaned against the table beside him. On the other side of the table, another plate of 'probably breakfast' laid neatly. If there had been a trap of sorts, its only nasty effect must have been the thick scent of burnt food as though the air itself was smeared with overcooked grease.

 

He looked up, there was no change in the disappointed look on his face as he sighed and spoke, “I can see you. Breakfast... something at least is ready. Come and eat it.”

 

As if in response to the word 'breakfast', Fate's stomach gave a growl of agreement. She was hungry. There was food. It did not look too dangerous yet. If the boy meant her harm, he could have easily done so already.

 

Hesitantly, step by step she walked towards the table and sat herself down opposite the boy. Looks like the word food might be the closest polite term to describe what was on the plate. Everything seemed to have a thin layer of dark, crispy soot. From the sausages to the eggs.

 

“You burnt eggs?” she finally found her tongue to ask, turning whatever was on the plate for any patch that was not black. It was amazing how evenly burnt the food could get.

 

“So I'm bad in cooking,” the boy admitted breezily while he finally convinced himself of the edibility of the charred toast and crunched into it with a pained look of distaste, “Why would Death care about food quality?”

 

“Fate. Not Death,” she retorted, mildly annoyed, imitating his food poking, and wondering if she would really meet Death if she ate it. With food so black, it probably did not need to be poisoned to kill.

 

“No difference. Both are personifications of the inevitable. Hate them.”

 

It was strange how normal everything, save for the inedible food, seemed to be. They were just bantering as though nothing happened, as though yesterday's midair battle never took place.

 

“Where am I? Why are you here?” she asked suspiciously, lifting the eggs and letting them drop on the plate. It landed with a 'tink'.

 

“My apartment. You are my hostage,” came the reply between crunches as though it was the most normal thing to do in the world, “No where else to put you.”

 

“What did you do to me?”

 

“Nothing... well, not really. I can't let you escape, can I,” the boy answered without a pause, looking at her reaction with interest, “See those black armbands around your arm?” he pointed to her newly acquired 'tattoos' with his fork.

 

“Magic limitation spell,” he said, placing emphasis on 'limitation', “removes all magical capability on the target for a limited time span. One band per day. Without magic, you are just another girl, Death.”

 

“Fate.” came the automatic correction.

 

Three bands, three days, Fate mentally translated. Three days of non-magic.

 

“Then what happens after three days? I blast my way out here?”

 

“If by three days, I have not completed the stone, I'll just recast the spell,” he replied without a care, “Otherwise you may go, I've got no need to keep you around.”

 

“What stone?”

 

“Why should I tell you?” he replied quickly, “You are only a hostage, Death.” He seemed to take childish relish in annoying Fate with that nickname.

 

Fate could not help but feel a sense of helplessness. Removed from her friends, her magic, with only the enemy for company. Unlike the time she was trapped in the Book of Darkness, this was real. Everyone, especially Nanoha and Admiral Lindy must be worried sick about her. They would be... a smile came to her face. That thought brought some comfort.

 

“Admiral Lindy will find you; Nanoha will find you; my friends will get you,” she looked straight into his eyes with assured confidence of her group's capability, “Then you will pay.” She forced the fork into the sausage for impact, breaking it into half to reveal some parts that are actually not black.

 

“Try,” he replied with the same assured confidence even as his brows twitched at the fork meeting plate, “This apartment is warded from all forms of magical detection. Break-proof, sound-proof, one way glass. No ordinary person can find it.”

 

“My friends are not ordinary persons,” Fate replied with all the trust in her companions.

 

They stared at each other, refusing to give away any emotions. There was something quite familiar about the boy...

 

Fate gave up the childish staring competition and turned her attention back to the non-black areas of the sausage, going through the events and information in her mind. She is now a hostage. Having breakfast... well, not really. Talking with the boy who was and is still the enemy. She could not really remember what happened after the contents of the test tube exploded before her. There were no signs of any wounds on her...

 

“Where are my cuts?”

 

“You care about those?” he asked in surprise, “I healed them, can't have you bleeding all over my bed.”

 

So he was not all bad, after all. Maybe he could be reasoned with.

 

The boy looked sulkily at his work of horror of a breakfast, the confidence in him deflated as quickly as it came. “Your people wasted my whole night yesterday.”

 

He stood up and took a beautifully decorated box out from within his robe. The box he robbed from Admiral Lindy. Then he threw it heavily at the table before Fate. “There! I'm returning this blasted thing to you.”

 

She picked up the box carefully and then opened it. There was nothing but photos of Admiral Lindy and Chrono in the past, photos of them having fun and looking so happy as a family. Something that Admiral Lindy had offered to her as well.

 

“Thank you,” she said softly as she returned those photos of happiness to the box, closing it firmly.

 

“Don't mention it,” he replied gruffly, “They are no use to me.” After a pause, he added, “If you are wondering about that staff of yours, I don't have it. Must have lost it.” he almost spat the last part out, disgusted by his own failure.

 

“Why?” she started again, “We can help you.”

 

“You won't understand,” he answered quietly and picked up his staff. Then he walked casually towards the front door, “Don't bother to try the telephone. I don't have one.” he shouted back as he exited the apartment. “Enjoy your stay, Death.”

 

“Fate!” she shouted back.

 

There was a smirk before he turned his back and drew a wand. “By the way, the lock is magic too,” he said before closing the door. The lock clicked behind him with finality.

 

The moment he left, Fate immediately got out of her chair and ran towards the door. Locked. Then she will have to find some other methods of escaping.

 

For the next hour, she searched the home for any opening she could possibly exit from. The boy had been most meticulous to cover every exit point, every single window had been locked and grilled, even the little one on top of the toilet. By that time, her stomach had started growling again and she returned to staring at the blackest breakfast ever made. After much hesitation, she took a small piece of the sausage and attempted to bite into it.

 

Having spat out the offending piece of crunchy meat, she took to raiding the refrigerator for anything edible and wondering how a boy around her age could survive and fought her evenly with breakfasts such as these. Where was his family anyway?...

 

Perhaps he was an orphan, surviving on his own, thus explaining his need to steal, Fate reasoned with herself, munching on bits of chocolate as she turned her attention to what was around her, hoping to find something that could tell her more about her adversary. If she was going to be magic-less, she would at least try to gather intelligence. What better place than his home to look? When Nanoha or Admiral Lindy or Chrono or anyone finds her, she would be ready with new information.

 

Two rooms. One locked, the other the one she had slept in. Television, couches, cabinets. Everything which one would expect in an apartment. A light spread of dust coated everything. Picking up a book at random, Fate blew the dust away to reveal it as a book on alchemy. Something she knew to be about changing lead to gold or eternal life. Something like that. The cover of the book had an elaborately drawn circle, filled with symbols and shapes... reminding her of the thief's methods.

 

Circle on the office wall... Circle on the pendent... Fate turned the thin pages delicately, reading the words of knowledge within as she retreated to the bed in the room. Now she knew those reddish-brown stains on the sheets as her own blood.

 

That was when something caught her eye. Putting the book on alchemy down, she gently picked up the simple photo frame from the headboard of the bed. It depicted the thief's happier times with his mother. The thief was much younger then, five or six years old, tugging anxiously at the long, dark dress of his mother. The women smiling so happily as she prepared to pick up her sobbing son. It was a picture of family bliss not reflected in the rest of the apartment.

 

Fate felt an uncharacteristic stab of jealousy in her heart. That raven-black hair. The soft, caring face. The warm eyes. The smile that she knew but never saw. She knew her, this lady in the photo. The woman never smiled so warmly before her, never picked her up, hugged her, comforted her.

 

This lady... Fate looked longingly into it, recalling those implanted memories in her. She knew that they were fake, replicas, imitations, but that did not make it any less real for her—originally hers or not, these memories were the memories she had. This lady is...

 

---------------------------------------------

 

“Ms. Testarossa!” Arisa announced her arrival into the ward with enthusiasm and anticipation, “We have come to visit!” She waved the basket of fruits in her hand to show the fair lady seated upright at her bed. Behind her, Suzuka entered and gave a light bow, placing a bouquet of flowers at the bedside.

 

“I wasn't expecting you to really come,” the lady on the bed said with a gentle smile as she motioned them to the seats beside the bed, “I would have made my hair beforehand.”

 

“We keep our promises,” Arisa replied as she strode over and sat herself down, “How was your health?”

 

“With your lovely presence, I feel better already,” Precious Testarossa laughed lightly, taking over the basket of fruits, “Thank you for coming.” Her hands trembled slightly as she took a grip on the sides of the bed. “I'm getting tired of sitting in the bed. Shall we take a walk?”

 

“Isn't it difficult?” Suzuka quickly reached out to support the lady. Ms. Testarossa accepted Suzuka's help gratefully. “Yes,” she said as she lifted herself out of the bed, “But one would still like to do so. It helps keep me distracted.”

 

With the help of Arisa and Suzuka, Ms. Testarossa slowly stepped out of the room and started walking down the corridor. It was a regal ceremony as the girls escorted the lady along. They walked quietly, accompanied by the soft breathing of Ms. Testarossa, just enjoying the joy of just walking. Perhaps it was because of the timing, there were more people around compared to the previous time. A couple patients alongside their medical staff, walked about the hallway with all the purpose in the world. Almost of the patients had been wearing the white tag around their wrist. Some of staffs nodded towards the lady as they passed and in turn, the lady waved lightly back. Everyone smiled, the doctors, the nurses, the patients, even the cleaner. Save for the rhythm of footsteps, no one spoke to each other nor made a sound.

 

Despite the cheery surface, Arisa could not help but shivered. Everyone just looked too happy, too glad while the silence hung over them like blanket. The air around felt heavier than elsewhere, it was as though behind all the smiles and the nods, a deep sadness and regret was hidden beneath.

 

“Are you alright? There is a bench over there,” Ms. Testarossa broke the silence for them when she noticed Arisa's disquieted discomfort, “I think I might need to sit down for a while.” Sweat droplets dotted her pale forehead as she led them towards the bench.

 

Ms. Testarossa sighed in satisfaction as she relaxed herself. For a moment, she gazed wistfully at the ceiling and at the people walking past her, one by one, with a look of tiredness and sadness in her eyes. The girls sat themselves beside her. Then Arisa tugged her sleeves.

 

“Ms. Testarossa, what part of the hospital are we at?”

 

The fair lady looked at her and sighed, “You know, I've got a son around your age. So young but you would have thought he was the father instead. Always bossing me around, not letting me get out of the bed.”

 

Suzuka and Arisa looked to each other, then they returned to the talk.

 

“You could have met him if you came earlier,” she said jokingly, “He's a handsome, young man. You would have liked him!” She reached out a hand and touched Arisa's golden hair, letting them flow out of her hands. “I've always wanted a daughter... Do you have a boyfriend?”

 

Suzuka noted with amusement as her usually tomboyish friend started to blush and fluster over the lady's teasing comments. Arisa really should let this rarely-seen side of her come through more often.

 

“W-w-well- I'm gl-glad that you l-l-liked me b-but-” Arisa never finished her sentence as she was interrupted by joyful laughter from the lady.

 

“This is the first time I've actually laughed for so long,” she said between laughs before those became coughs and Suzuka started to rub her back to soothe them.

 

“You are such a nice girl, I'm sure your mother would be proud of you,” the lady continued when she finally caught her breath, ruffling Arisa's hair, “What is your name, my kind, cute girl?”

 

“A-A-Arisa Bannings,” the girl looked at Ms. Testarossa suspiciously.

 

“And you?” Ms. Testarossa turned her attention to Suzuka.

 

“Tsukimura Suzuka, ma'am,” the dark haired girl bowed formally with her introduction.

 

Ms. Testarossa bowed in return and smiled, “You're not English, right? Let me welcome you to our humble lands.” She started to mumble their names softly and quickly to herself for a while to the curious looks of the girls.

 

“Arisa- Alisa- Alicia-Then I shall name my daughter Alicia,” she finally said, “Alicia Testarossa. She would have this beautiful golden hair of yours.” She fawned over Arisa's hair fondly, bringing another blush to Arisa's cheeks.

 

“Then she would have your beautiful voice,” she said to Suzuka with a genuine smile.

 

The fragile lady adjusted her shawl, laid back and sighed again. “You know what?” she perked up slightly to address the girls, “Earlier this morning, the doctor came to see me. He told me that I should go home, catch up with my family and enjoy myself as much as I should.” There was sadness in her voice as she stopped to catch her breath, coughing slightly.

 

“That's good, right?” Arisa asked innocently.

 

Ms. Testarossa chuckled to herself before she continued, “Yes, it is, I supposed. It would be nice to get out of this place for a while.”

 

They sat silently for a while before the lady spoke again. “I did not tell my son about it except to tell him not to come visit me tomorrow. I want to give him a surprise, to let him return home to a mother for once. Would you girls like to help me?” she gave a conspiratory wink at them, “You can even meet him.”

 

“Of course!” Arisa stood up to proclaim. Immediately, all eyes around were locked onto the impulsive girl for her sudden outburst. She sat down embarrassedly to the hushing of nurses. “But we are only helping you to get home and prepare.” she added as an afterthought.

 

“No?” the lady pouted, “He's a fine, young man, you know.”

 

They laughed at that, attracting the curious stares of the passersby. It was fine time to bring much needed gaiety into this quiet, heavy part of the hospital. Their laughter finally subsided when Ms. Testarossa started to cough roughly. Then, with the help of the girls, the lady got up from the bench to slowly walk back to her ward, relishing every moment she had left beyond the four walls.

 

When they finally laid her down on the bed, Arisa said with her hands at her hips, looking away from Ms. Testarossa's lying figure, “Okay. Maybe we can stay for a while tomorrow.”

 

A nurse had entered the ward, fussing over Ms. Testarossa despite the lady's signal that she was fine. Ms. Testarossa laughed merrily at Arisa's reaction, soon joined by Suzuka's bright peals of laughter. “Why, thank you, Arisa,” she said, breathless from laughter, “Then I might have a chance of getting a daughter now.”

 

Deliberately ignoring the vehement protests of 'No' from the blushing tomboy, she continued with a weak, exhausted smile, “You will like him; he's a good boy.”

 

The nurse began to start shooing the girls away. The patient, Ms. Testarossa had had plenty of activity for today; she needed to rest.

 

Arisa could already hear all the jokes that would come out of this, should her friends such as Fate, Nanoha or Hayate catch wind of it. Hopefully, Suzuka would keep it to herself. She muttered a half-hearted goodbye before she stomped out of the ward to hide her reddening face.

 

Before Suzuka followed behind, she turned and bade her farewell. Ms. Testarossa waved back and then lay back on the bed to rest. The athletic girl quickly caught up with her hot-headed friend as they stepped out of the hospital into the warmth of the city. Her friend was already consulting a tourist map, making small circles and notes on it.

 

“So what shall we do now?” Suzuka looked over Arisa's shoulder to study the map.

 

“We look for a good starting point,” Arisa replied, concentrating on the map and thinking at the same time. The Palace seemed like a good place to start...

 

Suzuka merely smiled encouragingly, knowing full well that they knew nothing about this thief they were trying to catch. “We can try to call Nanoha and Fate first,” the more level-headed of the two suggested.

 

“I tried, no one answered. They're always too busy,” came the reply. Suzuka could sense a tinge of resentment in her friend's tone.

 

“I'm sure they had their reasons. Perhaps the thief has proved more difficult than expected?”

 

Arisa snorted with annoyance before returning to the map. She was determined to catch the thief and have fun at the same time, now that she was back in her country of origin. But... it just wasn't the same without the rest of their friends...

 

“I wonder how they are doing now?”

 

---------------------------------------------

 

“Hmmm?” Professor Dante mused aloud without turning her back to face Gabriel, “You did not managed to get anything yesterday? Why?” She was looking at the device again, hypnotized by the floating orbs of light hovering within the miniature cities, never tearing away her gaze to even glance at him.

 

Gabriel wrinkled his nose in a failed bid to lessen the impact of the thick scent of lily. If his unintentional creation of the stench of burning fats exposed themselves to the victim in their full glorious impact of a single, near-fatal blow, the professor's preference for lily-scented perfume combined with the many pots of the deathly white blooming flowers to produce a the thick, heavy scent of lilies in this room crept silently onto you, assassinating every single, last scent bud in your nose before one realized too late that one can only smell lilies.

 

“There were those mages. New ones. Strong. Organized.”

 

“Hmm...” the professor moved her spindly index finger towards the edge of the map, then slowing tracing them into the center of the city, “Tell me about them.”

 

“I think there were four. Three of them are very young, around my age. One boy, two girls... Strong enough to penetrate my magic barrier from outside,” Gabriel paused to think about his hostage in his home. Did he make a mistake leaving her alone there? Should he tell the professor about the situation?

 

At that point, the professor perked up, ogling at the map in intense interest... or desire. Gabriel strained his neck to take a peek at the map, there seemed to be a huge influx of light into the map, gathering at one single point of the map. Professor Dante licked her thin, parched lips with her tongue in barely suppressed glee. “And the last one?” she urged anxiously, continuing to stare at the new concentration of light, rubbing her hands unconsciously.

 

“The last one was a lady, perhaps in her early thirties. She did not fight but she seemed to be their officer, the one giving the orders,” the young wizard quickly answered, putting his questions to the back burner.

 

Professor Dante stood up and swept across the distance between her and Gabriel, placing her hands upon his shoulders, gripping them tightly. “Interesting,” she said, looking fixedly into his eyes, “Tell me more.”

 

“She looked mature, quite beautiful. Long, azure hair. Warm, friendly voice. Probably the leader of the new group,” he listed from memory of the officer's interaction with Fate and from the photographs. Quite motherly too, he added mentally.

 

“Hmmm...” the old professor released Gabriel and circled around the room, oblivious to the choking smell of lilies. “Do you think she would look good in a dress?” she asked nonchalantly.

 

“Yes?” the young wizard answered, confused by the strange, irrelevant question. A new vitality had come to the professor with the new discovery. She was more enthusiastic, more anxious now. Gone was the slow, grandmotherly patience she tended to exhibit.

 

He watched as Professor Dante circled a couple of times more, scratching her cheeks with her manicured fingernails and musing excitedly to herself. Finally she stopped with a halt as a conceited smile spread across her long, wrinkled face.

 

“Gabriel! It is time!” she announced triumphantly, returning to the map to study it, “Is there a place that has a large hall that could be used without attracting attention?”

 

Gabriel thought for a while, then something struck him.

 

“There is an abandoned warehouse near my apartment. Large, empty space that can hold many people inside. Are we making the stone now?” he asked, full of excitement and hope. The stone is the priority, nothing else mattered. (if this was internal dialogue, it seems like it would be redundant for him to `remind' himself of such.)

 

“We need one more... no, two,” the professor raised her fingers to indicate the same numbers. She then quickly scribbled onto a piece of paper, two addresses in thin, scrawny handwriting and shoved the paper into Gabriel's hands. “Go, tonight,” she licked her lips again, her tongue leaving behind a thin trail of saliva, “Make as much noise as you can. Expect a fight.”

 

Gabriel looked at the addresses. “Professor Dante,” he said, “These addresses are both very near the warehouse. Won't that...”

 

“That's the whole point,” interrupted the reply, “Don't think too much. You need the stone, right? Trust me. Now, go.” She then shooed the blond-haired wizard out of her office, “And keep safe.” she added as an afterthought.

 

Standing outside the room, with the door between him and the lilies, Gabriel could feel his sense of smell slowly returning to him. The stale, musty air of the magical academy welcomed the resurrection of his scent buds. The wizard took one last look at the paper, crumpled and jammed it into his robes. Oh... he did not mention about the hostage... Gabriel paused, wondering if he should tell the professor about it... The professor seemed to be hiding some things from him too. The sudden burst of assertion and conviction from the professor scared him but if the professor did so to add urgency to the creation of the stone... then...

 

The girl, his hostage. She might know something. If not, at least about the background of their people. She would be helpless now. He could probably contain the situation himself... He had better check back before he proceeded with the hunt though. Then Gabriel left, taking a slow, purposeful walk towards the exit, only taking a brief detour at the changing room.

 

---------------------------------------------

 

Fate had intended to be ready for the return of the thief.

 

The original plan was to hide behind the door with something hard, perhaps the charred, greasy saucepan. When the boy returned, she would catch him by surprise and hopefully knock him out. Then she would escape through the generously opened door.

 

However, by the time she managed to tear herself away from staring at the photo frame, half an hour had passed. She then spent most of the time reading as much of the randomly thrown books lying forlornly on the ground, digesting the information in her head. Then she found herself drawn back to the photo frame, gazing at the portrait of happiness within, gazing at the woman with the bright, warm, gentle smile.

 

She did not notice the gentle creaking of opening doors. Nor did she notice the soft click as the door was locked again. Nor did she notice the light footsteps approaching from behind her.

 

She did notice when her thoughts were interrupted by, “Interested in my family?”

 

Fate looked back to see that her captor had returned, leaning against the dust-covered cabinet and staring at her. “Well? Why are you looking at my family photograph?” He bit into a sandwich devoid of any greens of any sorts, hurriedly swallowing it with nary a chew.

 

She pointed her finger towards the woman in the photograph, praying that it was all a coincidence and not a test of loyalty for her. That would just be too much to take. “Who is she?”

 

“Her? Kind of obvious, isn't it,” the boy walked leisurely forward and took the photo frame from Fate's hand with his free hand. He stuffed himself with the rest of the sandwich as he touched the photograph fondly and placed it back on the headboard, “She is my mother.”

 

Fate tried to compose herself. This could all be an over-reaction on her side but she had to know. “Where is she now?”

 

His eyes glared suspiciously at Fate, “Why should you care?”

 

“I... I don't have a real mother...” she answered half-heartedly, returning her gaze to the photo frame. “That is something I've never known...”

 

The boy's expression softened just slightly. Taking a quick glance at his watch, he motioned Fate to go outside to the table outside. “I've bought something for you to eat,” he said gruffly while he threw a dark robe beside Fate, onto the bed, “and wear that. Can't have you walking around in that fancy dress costume.”

 

Fate picked up the black, velvet robe, feeling the smooth, thick cloth it was made of in her hands. “Thank you,” she mumbled as she tried to slip on the robe over her torn barrier jacket.

 

“I nicked it from the changing room,” he added helpfully before he left the room, “too bad if it fits poorly.”

 

When Fate emerged from the room later, the end of the robe dragged behind her, sweeping the dust from the floor. It had been at least two sizes larger than her, more suitable for someone older and taller than her childish frame. While she could easily fold up the sleeves, there was nothing she could do about the rest of the clothing. Shuffling towards the table, she took the sandwich from the plastic bag and started eating; her stomach growled in satisfaction, having not had anything since the disastrous breakfast.

 

“Now you even looked more like Death!” The boy laughed as he sat at the other end, unwrapping another sandwich for himself. A small pile of lettuces and pickles laid on the tabletop as testimony of his distaste for vegetables.

 

“Fate,” she replied between chews. The long sleeves of the robe dragged along the table as she reached for another sandwich. Soft bread never tasted so good.

 

“Let's have an exchange of information,” he said, “I answer some of your questions and you answer mine.”

 

Fate thought for a while, then she nodded. She could always refuse to answer anything too sensitive.

 

“Why did you do it?” she asked.

 

The boy paused in his action of picking out the distasteful bits of the sandwich to consider, then he answered, “I need the stone. Those magical artifacts I stole, they will go into its creation. My turn. Your group looked organized, who are you?”

 

“We are from the bureau, we are here to get you,” Fate answered vaguely, “And they will.” she added confidently. “What stone? Why do you need it?”

 

“That's two questions,” he rejected.

 

“You did not properly explain the stone you mentioned just now, that was just a continuation of the first question.”

 

The boy sighed in defeat while taking a glance out of the window. The sun was about to set soon. “Philosopher's Stone. It is the pinnacle of alchemy, requiring huge amount of raw magic to form, thus all those artifacts.” That had been what the Professor had told him, at least. “The Philosopher's Stone allows the user to bypass the usual laws of alchemy and give immortality. Most importantly, it can do what modern medicine cannot do...” He dropped his head in melancholy.

 

“What?” Fate prompted when the boy slowed down, his voice trailing off into silence, “Don't worry. I can understand...”

 

“No. You never had a real mother, remember?” his voice rose sharply in despair, “You don't know how it felt when someone close to you is dying. When all you can do is to watch helplessly as she suffers in pain, and yet... still smile at you as though nothing was wrong.” His eyes widened in hatred, “The stone. That will do the trick. Soon it will be completed and she will be saved... Nothing must stop me now.” He glared towards the direction of Fate, yet it seemed as though he was glaring at something beyond her, at the entire concept of fate; his anger towards everything that had went against him building along with the emotional topic.

 

Now she knew why he kept rejecting her name. He was fighting more than her and the bureau. He was fighting against her namesake itself.

 

“You can still stop,” Fate said in her most soothing voice, “Your mother, the bureau can provide the best medical care for her. We can help you-

 

“No! You think I never tried magic before?” the boy interrupted angrily and his hand arced across the table, sweeping the pile of vegetables off, “Magic can delay, magic can accelerate, that's how I healed wounds. Yours and mine. But it cannot reverse time or cure genetics. The stone can, it can change the chemical structures of things itself. It can remove the disease like it never existed.”

 

He sunk into his chair and took another look at the window. The setting sun cast an orange hue upon everything in the apartment. “Why am I telling you all this? I'm not drunk. I'm too young to legally drink, anyway. And you still have more questions to answer… You feel familiar... Really, who are you? Death or Fate or is there some other real names?”

 

“My name really is Fate. Fate Testarossa,” Fate answered, taken aback by the boy's sudden change of moods. He began laughing. Loud, angry laughter.

 

“Yes. My name is Fate Testarossa,” she asserted, “There is nothing funny about it.”

 

“Stop joking,” he said, “You must have found my name written somewhere. My name is Gabriel Testarossa. My mother's name is Precious Testarossa. 'Testarossa' is not a common surname. If you hope to gain my mercy by having my name, it did not help.”

 

“No, it really- “ Wait. What did he say about his mother's name? Precious Testarossa. Close enough. She had heard about cross dimensional similarities but for this to occur on her... That would mean...

 

“Your mother's illness. Coughs a lot. Pain in the abdomen region,” Fate listed from memory, from what she could recall from her past mother's last years, before she met Nanoha. Precia never cared for her and other than complete, unquestioning devotion, never expected any care from her either. She had tried to hide the illness from her, the coughs of blood, the pain... As they grew stronger, she became more desperate in forcing Fate to seek out the jewel seeds.

 

“How do you know?” Gabriel jerked up in shock, “There was nothing about her around... do you know about her already...” He trembled at the implication of his accusation. His mother would be in danger.

 

Fate had never questioned how, she never questioned why, she never questioned what. Now, with the demise of the closest thing she had to a real parent and the release of the case folder to her, she knew. Precia was already dying then. Her fall into the vortex with Alicia must have been a sweet release to her pain; at least she would finally be with Alicia forever. But, she left Fate alone. If not for the company of Nanoha, Admiral Lindy, Arf or the rest of the Bureau, she suspected, she would have became just like Gabriel, always full of anger.

 

Gabriel's response confirmed it. Cross dimensional relations. That was the official term for doppelgangers of the same person in different dimensions. Nothing much was known about it or why it occurred. Except for some details, they tend to share the same fate. In this case, incurable disease. It all felt like a giant inter-dimensional joke. Now it was on her.

 

“Look, Death. You are only a hostage,” Gabriel trembled in fear and anger at the prospect of the one he was trying to save getting dragged into the conflict, “If you, or anyone tries to stop me-

 

“Stop,” Fate tried to calm him down, persuade him, “its okay. Its-

 

“No! I'm not giving up. Not when I am so close. Once my part is done, the professor would do the rest. Then we can go on living normally, without fate or death hanging around us,” he stood up and adjusted his robe. Grabbing his staff, he prepared himself for the upcoming hunt. Outside, the sun had set; the risen moon casting long shadows in the room.

 

Picking a piece of paper from the floor, the wizard quickly drew a symbol on it. Fate observed as after he finished the hastily scrawled symbol, he placed his fingers on it. The symbol glowed brightly, bringing some light into the darkened room. Then the paper hardened, bent and shaped itself into the smooth, white mask he had worn the previous night during the fight. The light faded along with the symbol as the transformation completed itself. He took the completed mask and placed it over his face, replacing his facial features with nothing.

 

Gabriel then walked towards the window and opened it. Placing a foot on the ledge, he hoisted himself over and jumped out. Soon, he appeared in view again, hovering on his staff just outside the window.

 

“Then, I don't care what you want to do to me,” he finished with a spat of anger. With a gesture of his wand, the window shut itself and was sealed with magic. He then flew off for another dangerous night of battle, leaving Fate stunned and lost for words in the dark, cold apartment.