Welcome to Gaia! ::

Hmm...haven't seen Fruits Basket, But after thinking the way the sisters react between each other reminds me of the two witches off of Spirited Away. One's good, kind, the other is evil and cold.

From one Fruits Basket fan to another, thanks for the big compliment, Leav. biggrin I have yet to see Spirited Away though... it's on my long Anime to-do list.

There is definitely some Black, though not so much white. I think in a story, it's important to have a few characters, like Lydia, who are "pure evil", just to put the anti-heroes like Cosette back into perspective. Still, we have yet to find a "pure good" character in DMO...

Interesting. I'll try to edit tomorrow.
-LD

It won't load on my computer. I'll try again tomorrow--maybe it's the connection.
-LD

P.S. Good edits. I'm sorry, KiyoKyo--there's been a whole lot of crazy here....

Does she seem nicer? I'll have to make her do something really atrocious in the next chapter then.

However, she is becoming more human--revealing a softer side beneath her thick exterior. It's hard to make her a figure the reader can sympathize with, while still maintaining her aloof nature.

You know, the comments I really like best are the ones where readers say "I wonder what happened to Archeme..." or "I'd like to know more about Knale's history..." or so forth. Which parts of the story really beg for more?

On another note, the next DMO is almost finished. In this one, we'll meet the European order of mystics and mages who revere Cosette as their Empress. (After all, she couldn't be "The witch queen Black Cosette" without subjects, right?)

Eleventh Movement -- The Darkest Empire
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"So, Cosette, just going to say the word?" Etlinde stood before her cousin, a pistol leveled at the girl's head. They were standing atop a balcony of an old monastery in Cosette's home of Suceava county, Romania--a headquarters of one of the many clans of European witches which esteemed Black Cosette as their true queen. It was without warning that the armies of her cousin Etlinde had attacked, and the small coven here had all but been wiped out. Worse than that, however, was the fact that Cosette and her allies had been the first and so far only forces to respond to the attack.

"It would be bad for my reputation if I just used a kill spell every time we met." The little empress responded. While Cosette's risen banes, undead, and lesser demons faltered against the might of Etlinde's soldiers and their powerful weaponry, the girl herself was in a perilous place. On a balcony, between two sets of pews in the second story of the altar of an old, stone monastery, Cosette faced down a cousin intent on eliminating her for good. Having shamed Etlinde in their last encounter, Cosette was sure that her opponent was ready for her tricks. She had used a death spell once, and was confident it wouldn't work twice--not against a foe like Etlinde who learned from her mistakes. "Since you're intent on using swords, I suppose I'll match your hand."

Cosette murmured a simple spell, and a large dark blade of obsidian coalesced from the air around into her hands. Glowing with mystic power, Cosette could feel the spirit of the daemonic blade enter her. It would teach her how to fight, and it would give her the strength she needed to use it. In a rush, the two of them charged forward, tempered steel clashing with the glassy obsidian blade again and again, while the cries of battle raged on outside. A drop of sweat rolled down her face as she parried and struck, entrusting her life to forces beyond herself which filled her body and made her to fight with inhuman skill--enough to barely keep to pace with Etlinde.

"Shame you'll be dying here, dear." Kartika Eckhart, the chairwoman of Etlinde's occultist Thule Society stared down at Narshe through her dark spectacles. She had a thick German accent, and spoke calmly, unaffected by the sounds of war and death that filled the monastery from the outside. Her long coat breezed back as a cold wind whipped through the monastery, and the thick ponytail her hair was bound into blustered about. "The Thule have granted me heaven's holiest magicks, vampire. Do you imaine you can defeat us?" She raised both of her open hands, which glowed with a white aether.

"Honestly? I'm scared to death." Narshe's face showed a nervous smile, as she raised her own hands, cryomantic energy subliming in the air around her. "I have no idea what to expect, since I've never even heard of your gods before."

"Heh." Eckhart gritted her teeth in an affronted look, and whipped her hands around, causing flashed of light to click into being, and dart towards Narshe at dangerous speeds. The vampire made a curving motion with her hands, forming mirrors of ice which redirected the bolts into a nearby wall, where they left holes like a thousand bullets. As she made a pushing motion towards Kartika, Narshe's mirrors of ice turned sideways and became high-speed projectiles, shooting through the air to cut down the Thule Chairwoman.

With a brush of her arm, Kartika redirected the attack up towards the balcony, where one mirror slashed through the back of Cosette's ankle. The attack cut through the girl's leg badly, spilling blood and dropping her to the floor before Etlinde, who leveled a saber under the girl's nose.

"Now, I'll teach you a new trick, dear cousin--how to di--" She was cut off as the wall of the monastery exploded, and the body of a man in military gear hit her full force, knocking her off of her feet and putting the two of them in a heap against the opposite wall. Hylie jumped up to the balcony, both fists clenched and ready for battle.

"You cut it close." Cosette looked up to the demon as indignantly as she could manage through her relief. Hylie just returned a smug smile.

Richtoffen Kriegger, Etlinde's golden-haired second-in-command general disentangled his body from hers, and stood up, helping Etlinde to her feet with one hand as he turned to face another charging attack from Hylie. He was dressed in a long military coat, covered in decorated medals. A short military cut adorned his pale, Aryan features, and his right arm was cased in a gauntlet whose hi-tech look must have come from science fiction. With his gauntleted hand, Richtoffen caught the demon's punch, and in a single motion diverted her momentum behind him into another wall, which exploded in a shower of stone and mortar, all crashing down upon Narshe below.

"Ahhh!" The vampire cried, too busy casting a spell to transform into a mist and dodge the crash. The jagged mortar and heavy stones cut her to shreds, separating and crushing limbs and bones in a surge of blood. Only one frantically blinking eye moved on the whole of the vampire's dismembered body.

In Kartika's hands, the final spell of Narshe's undoing wove itself together. Etlinde regained her composure and walked resolutely towards the defenseless Cosette, her saber flashing with malice in the setting sun above. Atop the pile of broken stones, Hylie seemed to be knocked out.

All at once, noise seemed to be sucked out of the room, replaced by a powerful static buzz. Eckhart and Kriegger fell to their knees, clutching ears as the sound intensified, almost to the point of bringing tears to their eyes. The air surged with power, which congealed together around Etlinde. At the end of an instant which seemed to last minutes, Etlinde's body seized up, and her skin visibly bubbled and melted away, leaving only a standing skeleton in uniform. The remains of Etlinde's form clattered to the ground, a lifeless pile of bones.

A group of men and women, wearing robes of assorted colors and carrying various implements of battle came in through the wall, several rushing to Cosette's side. At the front of those who entered stood a gaunt woman, advanced in years, carrying a massive staff in one hand and an open book in the other. Apparently she had just cast the spell to destroy Etlinde. Her black glasses obscured her eyes, but it was clear from her face that she intended to make either Kriegger or Eckhart the target of her next spell.

"Unglück! Richtoffen, rückzug! Schnell!" Kartika shouted up to her ally. The robed woman began chanting a long incantation as Eckhart traced her own spell in the air in a haste born of desperation. Just as the general managed to grab a hold of her, she clapped her hands together in completion of the spell. A burst of white light flashed through the room, as the two of them vanished.

"They haven't gone far!" The lead woman's shrill voice cut the air, cracking in her throat as she stooped over to give several heaving coughs. "Secure the empress, secure the grounds!" She ordered, and her followers obeyed. One stooped beside Cosette, murmuring a few spells to close the wound in her leg, and helping her to her feet afterwards. Exhausted from the mental and physical exertions of the battle, it was all the girl could do to walk over and lean against the wall near her savior.

"Stellaluna..." Cosette began.

"Save your breath, fool child. My Empress may you be, but I shall reprimand you dear for endangering yourself as such." The woman did not turn her head to look at Cosette, but kept facing ahead. She was blind, thin white hair trailing down over empty eye sockets, covered barely by opaque black glasses. The book before her turned listlessly in the evening breeze, as the sounds of magic and military weaponry filled the air. She did not need to read the book, the decrepit witch could feel its power innately. Words for those who did not speak the language of pure magic.

"The vampire is... she may be damaged beyond repair..." a young mage in thick battle robes reported to Stellaluna.

"Cut out the heart. Six days bathed of blood shall raise anew those who taste death eternal." Stellaluna conjured a knife into being with a twist of her heavy staff. The old wooden implement, covered in rings and runes and talismans and other adornments seemed to rattle as if possessed of its own life as the spell was channeled through it. A drop of light fell from the staff's crooked tip, and lengthened into a rune-covered dagger forged of green glass. Taking the dagger from the air with a nod, the young man went to work extracting Narshe's heart. "Collect five corpses, female." The archmagus turned to another attendant who had been watching the exchange.

"Ugh..." the pile of rubble shifted as Hylie looked up and shook her head. How could a simple knock on the head have sent her unconscious? There was an odd stabbing pain in her hand, and when she looked down to check it, she saw that it had been pierced clean through, and was covered with a number of puncture marks. When that gauntlet had grabbed her hand, they had injected her with something... something powerful enough to knock out a demon? She looked down again, willing her torn flesh shut by her own power. A wound inflicted directly by human hands would not simply heal on its own.

"Ah! It bit me!" The mage cutting at Narshe's flesh pulled back, as something wet fell from his hands with a wet plop to the stone floor. Narshe's heart was a dark red, covered in black veins. More than that, however, no less than three fanged, circular mouths caked the outside of the hideous thing. It was a truly horrific sight.

"To put an accursed relic in your bare hands... have you no training, boy?" The old witch screeched. Her staff balanced itself as she let go of it, making a plucking motion with her hand. The heart lifted off of the ground, and floated toward her, finally falling into a jar presented by another of her attendants as she released it.

"And her majesty requires a chair." The witch said at last, as Cosette fell unconscious in the arms of a nearby mage.

* * *

Cosette awoke in a soft bed, in a room dimly lit by an old-fashioned fireplace--the kind designed for personal use in one's room. By the fire sat the old witch Stellaluna, circling her hands over the fire and muttering softly to herself. The two of them were alone in the room, which was decorated in a spartan fashion, with only bed, armoire, and desk to furnish it.

"Awake at last, child?" Stellaluna asked without turning. She was wearing robes which looked slightly more comfortable than what Cosette had last seen her in. Glittering vermillion silks covered her gaunt figure, while her long, thinning white hair was tied together in a jet-colored wrap that shimmered in the firelight. Her voice was softer than before, some of the passion of battle and the force of command having left her spirit. Still, she spoke resolutely, and Cosette could tell from the way she said it that there was a speech to come. "You were baited for a conflict, and foolishly followed a road to destruction. Praise the stars that your time is yet."

Cosette reflected on events that had occurred just before her near-fatal encounter with Etlinde. She had received word that a small attack had occurred--members of a coven only a county away had fallen under an attack by some foe. Lydia was the first suspect, but in all truth Cosette hadn't really taken time to consider who could be behind the infraction. In a rush, she had simply raised the fallen champions who waited beneath her Villa and marched them off to address the problem. She was confident that a puny assault would crumble quickly before her. Too confident.

The problem seemed to be small indeed--a group of fanatics striking out against what they rightly believed to be a gathering of practitioners of the darker arts. Quickly dispatched by and resurrected into the dead which followed Cosette's lead. As she stood upon the floor of victory in the empty monastery was when the real attack came.

Masses of artillery, soldiers, and her cousin's Thule mages had sprung upon them in a vicious pincer attack. It was a guaranteed and decisive victory for the Reich until Stellaluna had come to save her.

"How did you know to come?" Cosette stacked the two pillows on the bed behind her for better support and sat back.

"Concerning your wellbeing, some of your servants think more carefully." Stellluna seemed to be able to speak and murmur at the fire at the same time. The sounds of her voice working double felt eerie, as shadows danced around the room in patterns which fire should not readily be able to create. "Lord Malgrave sent me word that without notice you had left."

"I..." Cosette began, but wasn't sure how to justify herself.

"Rozalina has left a spoiled child to lead us!" Stellaluna shook her head, her shrill voice cracking as she spoke with passion once again. "Real wisdom is a trait you would do well to acquire, else you bring to ruin all that your faithful have worked so to create."

"The Renaissance Empire..." The empire Cosette was charged to recreate--the one her family had survived a thousand years with the sole goal of seeing manifest.

"For truth. A rebirth to the kingdom of high art and magic that bloomed for an age upon this continent--from history wiped by the Church of the dark ages. Your ancestors--the pure blood line of masters whose hands by which this world did turn--those have laid on you their burdens, and yet you would endanger your legacies--all our hopes--by doing anything without forethought!?" Stellaluna was almost yelling by the time she was through, and her voice dissolved into a coughing hiss after these last words. She caught her breath and continued, "many covens serve the Imperial Family in hope of reward, once the Darkest Empire is again reborn. Centuries of service... living, dying, fighting... don't dare to betray us." She gave another choking cough... or a sob? It was too difficult to tell through the crackling of the fire.

"Auntie Stella..." Cosette sensed something amiss with the woman she had grown up beside--one whom she affectionately named a surrogate aunt in her youth.

"Jael and Parom... great grandchildren of mine own with whom once you gamboled in your youth..." she took a deep breath, "murdered were they in the atrocities of war. I felt their spirits scream to me as flesh burned from bones in the incinerators of the death camps. They died for that they served you, as children of the Roma, and bent no knee the damnable Furher." Stellaluna's voice raised again, angry, "I inflicted their suffering upon her... if only she would die for a last."

"Etlinde dies not for so much as--" Cosette murmured, then caught herself slipping unconsciously into the old witch's strange personal dialect, "I mean, she won't die, not as long as the ideals of her Reich stand."

"Why is it, Eminence, that you forsake counsels of your servants most willing? Are our dreams not as one? They call you to stand before them--those who trust in you--to account of yourself."

It was difficult to understand the old witch through her tripping speech, but Cosette saw through deep enough to realize that she was in deeper trouble than the reproach of one single crone. "They summon me?"

"Indeed. Mayhap they find you unfit. Power is meaningless without cunning or patience. Most certainly is contexts such as these." The old witch stood stiffly, gathering together the silks pooled at her feet into one gnarled, liver-spotted hand. She walked carefully out of the room, fragile with age now that the fires of emotion had left her body--forced out by her own will. "You are of age, though you bear yet a child's heart. Burn out that heart to make way for a callous leader's iron will. It is the way of survival. For you, for us. She can teach you, the eldest can." The door clicked open on its own as Stellaluna approached, and closed quietly as she left Cosette alone.

Sighing with a grumble to herself the girl looked around once more. She was not in her own home--she must be in the manor of one of her vassals. Stellaluna had no home--a gypsy by birth, she had chosen that path in life as well. Before she could work up the urge to explore, the fire's crackling formed words to speak to her. It told her something hazy, warm, and comfortable, like a lullaby humming through her head. Is this Aunt Stella's spell...? She wondered halfheartedly, unable to focus through the daze that was infusing into her senses.

* * *

A figure stood in infinite darkness, alone. It was beside another--though despite their companionship, the two figures were most certainly alone--separated from each other, and the world. The stars in space hung around them--all too far to reach--too distant to fathom.

As Cosette looked into the golden eyes of Carmine, she saw a being much like herself--silver hair, soft flesh, youth, power, nobility... but as she looked longer and deeper into the soul of the other, something changed. It was a subtle change, as though she were noticing little things that she had missed before. The skin was not as tight as she had first thought, sagging here and there. the hair was thinner, the eyes sunken deeper, the youth was only an illusion--a trick of light for the casual observer. So vanity proceeds you even in death. Cosette thought to herself.

More than just skin-deep beauty had dissolved before her eyes, however. Unlike her waning youth, the ambient power surrounding Carmine had grown, towering over her like a great black tree fighting against heaven to inherit the sky, roots snaking about to conquer the earth. Cosette stepped forward, and her ancestor bid her to sit down at the root of this tree by her side. The girl obeyed, and the old woman looked off into the vastness of space, as if waiting for the proper moment to speak.

Perhaps a hundred years passed, or no time at all. There was no time in this place, after all. Carmine spoke to Cosette at last.

"What meaning does one life have in the scope of history, Cosette?" Her voice was cracked and dry and old, but something in it reminded the girl of how her mother used to speak to her. She remembered that Carmine's spirit must once have come upon her mother as well. Rather than answer, Cosette awaited for Carmine to continue. "You belong to me--have no illusions that you are anything else but a work of my will." She did not gaze into Cosette's eyes, but continued to stare out into the stars. "You are a stepping stone to my glory, as I was a tool of the Imperial Family. As they made demands of me, I think it not so great to burden you with demands of my own." She spoke in an elder tongue, and Cosette could understand her meaning by the weight of words, not through their pronunciation.

"You can't deny me." She looked at Cosette at last, and the fire in her yellow eyes burned bright like an expectant and malicious child. "But I will not take without giving in return. It is through my hand that you possess such great legacies of magic and mystery--I will teach you what Narshe and your mother could not. I will teach you to wield true power. In return, I will demand... certain favors." Cosette realized that she could not answer, even if she wished. Her will was meaningless in this place, she could do nothing but obey. "Look about you, my child." Carmine waved a hand upwards, to the tree they sat beneath.

As though removed from herself, she could view the entire black tree at once in a single vision, from its roots in time to its branches in heaven. Upon those branches hung many fruits, each filled with power and wisdom. Upon the tree were written in blood thirteen secrets, which she could not read by her own skill. "The root of the Imperial Line is your legacy, Cosette, but you have only tapped into its meanest parts. Return to me here, when you seek power, and I will aid you." Cosette could feel herself lifting--moving away from this place, back to a world of light. "I will come into your world when I seek your power. Do not resist me then, and we shall be in accord. Anger me, and I will devour your soul from within." All she could see now were Carmine's glowing golden eyes, at last swallowed up in light as her own eyes burst open.

* * *

The counsel convened that next day, Cosette led reluctantly to stand upon a central dais before a hundred aged warlocks and witches--leaders of covens and societies and collectives all across Europe. All with their hopes hung upon her. Some served for power, others for glory, others for the sake of their own legacies. Still, each was faithful--each desired the success of their Witch Queen in her quest to restore the glory of their craft to a world which had forgotten, suppressed, and destroyed it. It was daunting to look at each of them, their cold eyes and stern expressions set against her and her alone.

Narshe was still incapacitated, but improving in condition. It was the lack of her closest adviser that left Cosette most unprepared to give account of herself. Through even the long-sleeved, dress she wore and the many petticoats beneath, she felt the chill of uncertainty cut through to her bones. No one was showing up to save her now from her own. Her ankles felt weak from standing, but she knew it was just nerves. The girl felt she should say something, but it was Stellaluna who spoke first, standing from her place on the circular benches that wrapped the room.

"We Lords of the Most Dark Empire stand before her Eminence, Cosette Garidion, in inquisition this day, for to search out what deeds she hath wrought to the glory of the Empire and of our most holy order." The elder witch slammed her heavy staff on the ground, and it echoed through the hall with a heavy crack of metal on stone. "Counsel convenes. Members may address her Eminence with your pleas."

"Lady Garidion, what progress have you made recently toward the reestablishment of the Empire?" An elder mage stood, his beard falling to the middle of his waist.

"I have been--" Cosette searched for the right words to answer, but they seemed to scurry away from her tongue in fear under the man's gaze.

"When shall we strike down the Church? Know you their weakness?" Another witch,with dirty black hair and dark skin crowed.

"They are--" She stumbled over her words.

"What do you mean to do, thrusting yourself into the heart of battle?" A crone in a tall hat, whose hair covered her face completely howled.

"Have you secured us a weapon to crush the Babylon Foundation? A champion of some sort?" asked a short warlock wearing large red tinted glasses.

"We hear you've been consorting with the Eastern Mystics, what do you mean by this?"

"Is it true you assisted the Reich--despite their attempts to kill you?"

"The Domesday Clock still ticks! Their Science is cutting out the Magic from our world!"

Shouts began to fill the room as the councilmen and women stood and voiced complaint and query, each like the thrust of a knife into Cosette's back. Something inside her was seething. She saw something like that tree forming black in her vision.

A young, impetuous looking witch cried out at last. "Your incompetence with lead us all to ru--Aaaaaaahhh!" Her eyes widened and a scream ripped through the room as her face drained of color and life. After a few seconds of living agony, she looked more decrepit than Stellaluna.

From the dais, Cosette pointed a finger delicately at the woman. "Ah, blessed silence." A smile crossed her features. Her voice projected and boomed through the small, circular chamber, though she spoke softly. The effect was like a chorus of smaller voices echoing her words in a near whisper, just audible over the crackle of torches lighting the chamber. "I am as a god before you--each of your lives a simple flame to snuff out as it suits me." She emphasized the last words, whirling around so the whole room could fall under her gaze, "it would do to show more respect, considering your position." Something was speaking for her--Carmine--teaching her what to say. It was the practiced voice of a leader with power, and of a master who knew how to wield that power.

"Who dares question me, let him stand here, and we will settle things as my fathers did in the Most Dark Empire. By a show of strength." She held out an open hand, inviting any to come forth. One particularly bold soul stood, indignation written bold on his face, under a bald head and thick spectacles.

"Now listen here--" before he could even begin, Cosette's fingers snapped, and a bolt of energy cracked through the air, deep red and black with vile magic, ending the man's life in an unholy splendor. A faint gasp elicited from the other counsel members, who sat at a more rapt attention. This power... Cosette felt that she was standing beside herself, watching someone else wearing her skin.She was frightened--not by the experience, or by the fearsome magics she had just proved, but that what she was doing... it feels good.

"No more? No? Just one?" She surveyed the room again, beckoning with two fingers. Her subjects sat silent before her. "Good. In the old days, we killed for less, and there are so many more of you now than there were then. Insubordinates simply can't be tolerated." She paused, one hand crossed over her chest, and another resting her chin. Her mind felt like it was in a haze--she wasn't sure who was controlling her--maybe she was doing this, maybe not. It felt easy, natural, practiced. "Though dethroned, we--those gifted with the Eldritch might of magic, are indeed the true and rightful masters of this world--but similar powers fight against us--intent to lay their hands unjustly on our inheritance. Do not dare to question my way--each of you have with me the darkest accord, forfeiting your lives to my holy will. The time will come when I collect that boon, and call upon your powers--I have numbered the days even now." Cosette's golden eyes fell over the room, as she turned upon the dais slowly while speaking. "Strengthen yourselves for that day, and steel your black souls for the trials to come. In that glorious day, you may not all die--but you shall all surely be glorified."

Her eyes darted down to Stellaluna, and she held one pale hand out before her, ready to give the same motion that had ended those who previously dared question her. "Does the council pose further questions?" She asked, a smirk crossing her features.

There was silence. Even the torches seemed afraid to crackle too loudly.

"We declare this inquiry adjourned." Stellaluna cracked her staff against the ground once more, and Cosette turned to leave through the back door.

The council members decided to take the other exit.

Cosette leaned upon the papered walls of the mansion where the council had met. A rush of weariness fell over her as the adrenaline and tension of the interview dropped away.

A steady clap, clap, clap sounded from down the hall, as Lord Malgrave walked toward her, applauding quietly. "A most excellent show, milady." His crimson red lips curved to smile in an unnerving way, as he clicked his painted nails together in a thoughtful manner. "Perhaps you'll learn yet what it takes to rule the world."

"I'd prefer a rule by popularity." Cosette said honestly.

"Ah, but then you would need to please everyone. A rule by force is so much simpler. You just do whatever pleases you." The nobleman's cold gray eyes were hard and cruel, despite his calm smile. "I daresay you'll see that force makes you more popular with noble society. Do take my word for it."

"Mistressssss..." A familiar cooing voice called from down the hall.

"Is Narshe well?" Cosette asked, not answering the voice. It would take the vampire's heart four more days to stitch a new body for itself from flesh and dark magic. It would look like the old Narshe, on the outside, of course, but not until it was over. The process was hideous to say the least. Thinking of what the vampire must look like right now, Cosette almost gagged.

"She's in a rather pathetic state at the moment... just recovered her voice, so she's been calling for you. Quite disdainful." He shook his head. "But beyond that, I'm dearly curious," he leaned down to meet her face level, "as to who gave that magnificent speech. Was it you, or her?"

Cosette took a look up to meet his stare with a resolute gaze of her own. She wasn't sure what had moved inside her, but she had given it license to work. Perhaps she had not specifically said those words, but it had been in her power not to say them, had she willed it. Of this she was certain. Or... had the sinister spirit already begun to affect her mind from within?

The golden eyes of Black Cosette flashed with brilliant confidence, and her gaze beamed a smug assurance completely different from the fear and confusion within her. "It was I." She spoke calmly. At least, she thought that it must be her speaking...

Do that, please!
-LD