Sister Celestia stood by the door, her curious ears tuned to the hushed voices beyond the ornate door. The flickering candlelight painted a dance of intrigue on her face.
'As I thought... Duchess Grimlock...' Her thoughts raced.
'Is looking for Isolde.' Celestia pondered the enigma, the puzzle of a noblewoman searching for a humble orphan.
A curious puzzle it was indeed, for Isolde, an orphan among many, held no secret claim to riches or nobility. 'If it's the duchess,' she contemplated, 'then Isolde will most definitely live a life of comfort.' But as the unanswered questions dangled in her mind, a gnawing uncertainty gripped her heart.
Celestia was no stranger to secrets, but this riddle perplexed her. Why, she wondered, did the priest and Sister Teresa adamantly refuse to present Isolde to the duchess?
With newfound resolve, she slipped away from the door, her swift steps carrying her toward Isolde's bedroom.
***
Isolde's room bathed in the soft, golden hues of the afternoon sun streaming through the window. Her eyes, deep and contemplative, fixated on the radiant orb in the sky. A delicate frown danced upon her lips, her thoughts a whirlwind of memories and longing, conjuring Azrael's image in her mind.
As sunlight painted her room with a warm, ethereal glow, Isolde sighed, a sigh that seemed to carry the weight of unspoken words and unsought desires. Her fingers, restless, danced over the fabric of her dress, a silent yearning etched in every motion.
"He didn't come at all today," she whispered, a glimmer of happiness breaking through the clouds of her contemplation. But, as swiftly as the smile graced her lips, it dissipated, leaving behind a lingering sadness. Her delicate hands clenched, their fragility belying the strength within.
"Not that I would've wanted him to, though," she mumbled to herself, a paradoxical confession of her heart's yearning.
'I guess I have gotten used to his company over this one year,' Isolde pondered, her thoughts tracing the contours of her evolving emotions. In a moment of disbelief, she shook her head gently, as if dispelling the enchantment that bound her to these thoughts.
"Why am I thinking of him?" she questioned, her voice a whisper amidst the room's serene ambiance. Another sigh escaped her, an acknowledgment of the impasse she found herself in. "I have stayed in this room for too long. I have to get some fresh air."
Her decision made, she gracefully approached the door, her hand extending to grasp the handle, anticipation lacing her movements. But her efforts were met with an unexpected obstacle—the door was locked. Isolde's eyes widened momentarily, a ripple of uncertainty passing over her features before they resumed their stoic neutrality.
"Perhaps there's a visitor, and they've locked me in," she speculated, her rationality guiding her thoughts. Returning to her bed, she seated herself cross-legged, closed her eyes, and drew in a deep breath.
Then, with a soft, almost imperceptible sound, the door handle shifted, and the lock yielded to a mysterious hand. Isolde's eyes fluttered open, meeting the unexpected sight of Sister Celestia, who approached her.
'What is Sister Celestia doing here?' Isolde's thoughts echoed, for her intuition told her that this visit held more than met the eye.
Sister Celestia moved towards Isolde with all the grace of a falling leaf, her steps nearly soundless. Gently, her hand found its place on Isolde's shoulder, a tender touch that spoke of unspoken comfort. Her voice, like a lullaby, murmured softly, "There's a visitor here to see you."
Isolde blinked in surprise, her curiosity awakened by Sister Celestia's words. "A visitor?" Isolde echoed, her eyebrows arching inquisitively as her gaze shifted towards Sister Celestia. Her heart danced with intrigue as the name slipped from Sister Celestia's lips, a tantalizing secret unveiled. "Her name is Duchess Adrith Grimlock," she continued, her tone hushed as though sharing a confidential revelation, "and she wishes to adopt you." A genuine smile curved her lips, adding a touch of warmth to the revelation.
Isolde's expression remained enigmatic, concealing a whirlwind of thoughts beneath its surface. 'The Duchess Adrith Grimlock, renowned for her cold, fierce, and infamous reputation, the very owner of Fogmire State in which we dwell,' Isolde contemplated, a veil of skepticism weaving through her mind. 'How could she know of my existence without ever crossing paths with me? This is an enigma...' her inner musings pondered.
Her gaze returned to Sister Celestia, who bore a warm smile that radiated from her eyes. 'Sister Celestia seems genuinely pleased by this news. Perhaps that's why she didn't sense anything amiss,' Isolde surmised. 'Sometimes, it feels as though I'm the one guiding our choices... Nonetheless, I will trust in Sister Celestia's judgment and embrace what unfolds.' With resolute determination, she nodded slowly and offered a soft smile in return. Drawing in a deep breath, she confirmed her decision. "Alright, I will meet her."
Sister Celestia's surprise met Isolde's resolve, and her smile grew even warmer. With a graceful rise, she extended her hand, a silent invitation for Isolde to join her. In harmonious unison, they embarked on their journey, leaving the familiarity of Isolde's room behind. Together, they ventured down the hallway.
***
Sister Teresa took a step back, her voice hesitant as she addressed Adrith, "Your Grace, I apologize, but..." Her words hung in the air.
Adrith's response was far from patient. She glared at Sister Teresa, abruptly cutting her off with a sharp retort, "Huh?! But what? How difficult can it be? I've issued a straightforward order! Bring me the final child!" Her voice carried an edge of frustration, exasperated by the seemingly unnecessary delays. She couldn't fathom the extent of effort required to retrieve the last child, and it grated on her nerves.
The priest dared to voice his concerns, "Your Grace, please understand that we cannot surrender such a child to you. She is no special human or a normal human; she possesses the essence of a demon..." His words trailed off, a plea in his voice.
Adrith shifted her attention to him, approaching with an eerie chuckle that carried a chilling undertone. "You comprehend nothing, would you prefer to keep her here then?" she taunted in a low, unsettling tone.
They didn't reply and Adrith continued,
"So, if you'd be so kind, kindly keep your mouth closed and do as I've instructed."
Before Adrith could conclude her ominous statement, a knock echoed through the door. The priest inquired, "Who is it?"
"It's me, Sister Celestia," came the response from the other side.
"Very well, come in," the priest granted entry.
As the door opened and Isolde crossed the threshold, Adrith's eyes widened in shock, taken aback by the palpable surge of dark energy that enveloped Isolde. Her gaze remained locked onto Isolde, analyzing the girl with newfound intrigue. 'That intense dark energy is more potent than ever,' Adrith thought to herself, her curiosity piqued.
Both the priest and Sister Teresa shared a similar reaction, their eyes widening as they observed Isolde. ' Why did Sister Celestia bring her here? ' They both thought.
Adrith's unwavering gaze remained fixed upon Isolde as the realization dawned on her. 'Despite the presence of the black rosary, an astonishing amount of dark energy radiates from her!' The unexpected revelation filled her with surprise. A small, sly smile tugged at the corners of her lips, a subtle acknowledgment of her newfound interest. 'Perhaps I shall take her after all...'
Isolde couldn't help but notice Adrith's piercing gaze, and as her eyes met Adrith's through the delicate black veil, a sense of familiarity struck her. Adrith's irises, a mesmerizing violet hue, mirrored Isolde's own and those of her late mother. Isolde's widened eyes betrayed her surprise. 'She looks just like my mother,' raced her thoughts, leaving her in a state of bewildered awe.
Sister Celestia took it upon herself to introduce Isolde, gesturing toward the girl, who felt increasingly uneasy under Adrith's scrutiny. "Your Grace," she began, her voice touched with discomfort, "this is the last of the fifteen-year-old girls you requested. Her name is Isolde."
Adrith's smile, almost eerie in its intensity, grew wider as she drew nearer to Isolde. 'Why does she resemble my deceased mother so closely?' Isolde pondered, her anxiety bubbling beneath the surface as she stood her ground.
Adrith extended her hand, grasping Isolde's with a cold and authoritative demeanor. "Hello, I'm Adrith Grimlock. Please call me Aunt Adrith, Isolde," she commanded, her tone brooking no argument.
'Aunt? Does that mean my mom had a twin sister?' Isolde wondered silently, inclining her head respectfully. "Nice to meet you, Duchess Ardith Grimlock."
The atmosphere shifted as Adrith's demeanor changed. A glimmer of anger flashed in her eyes, which prompted Isolde to take a step back, a sense of unease settling over her. "Once I adopt you, you will refer to me as mother, okay?" Adrith declared firmly.
Adrith leaned closer until her face was mere inches from Isolde's, her words a hushed whisper in Isolde's ear. "You understand, don't you?" she asked, her grip on Isolde's wrist relenting as she stepped back.
Isolde's brows furrowed, her wariness intensifying. 'I don't like her,' she concluded silently. "I suppose we can proceed with the procedures, correct, Priest?" Adrith stated, addressing the priest with an air of finality.
In response, the priest offered a slight nod and affirmed, "Yes, Your Grace."
Isolde's adoption process concluded seamlessly. With her luggage packed and farewells exchanged with Sister Celestia, she followed Adrith into the awaiting carriage. As the carriage set in motion, Isolde turned her gaze towards the window. It was a moment of disbelief – leaving behind the orphanage life that had been her world since her parents' passing.
***
A mere few minutes before Isolde stepped into Adrith's carriage, Azrael arrived at her bedroom window, only to find it empty. He murmured to himself, "Where could she be?"
After a moment of pondering, he ventured to her favorite spot, but no trace of her.
A perplexed frown creased his brow as he thought, 'I can't possibly search the entire orphanage, and it's not yet night, so she couldn't have gone out to train... But then where?' Just as frustration began to well up, Azrael's sharp eyes caught sight of Isolde entering a carriage with her luggage in tow.
A sudden sense of urgency gripped him, his heart racing with the realization that she might be leaving him. He watched as she settled into the carriage, taking a seat by the window. Her eyes met his, and she could see the unmistakable emotions of loss and confusion in his gaze.
'Why does he look like that?' Isolde wondered, quickly averting her eyes.
'I can't let her go!' Azrael was about to make his move, but before he could react, an unseen force gripped his legs, pulling him down to the ground. Panic coursed through him as he looked down, only to see a puddle of blood surrounding him, with bloody hands grasping his legs.
'Shit! Sylas caught me again,' he thought helplessly as he was dragged further into the puddle of blood.