"You... wish to transfer to the Department of Astromancy?"
It was a rather normal day for Lord El-Melloi II or rather Waver Velvet. Of course, by that, it meant it completely sucked and he wished he could sleep. There was never a day for the Lord of Department of Modern Magecraft Theory to relax, whether by external factors or his thoughts.
And now, everything has gone into disarray.
Casimir.
There was no record of his family name, albeit he didn't search that much since it felt like an invasion of privacy, but he has attended a good chunk of his lessons. He was... informed by his younger sister of a certain market about his class and Casimir seemed to take no part in it; he just joined randomly.
So imagine his surprise when the brown-haired youth came into his (barely) office limping with a cane. Moreover, having a recommendation letter from another department in the Clock Tower.
"Yes."
The answer came strong, but he could sense weakness from it and his eyes with close to no light, "I thank you for teaching and my respect has not died down a bit since attending the first class, but..."
"But?" Waver internally punched himself after hearing his own harsh tone.
"...Right now, London doesn't feel exa-," Casimir coughed into his hand. "London doesn't feel like home."
The hooded figure in the corner stood upright the next second to bring him a glass of water. Her green eyes held concern as the coughs continued.
"Thank you."
Meanwhile, the teacher in the room was holding his forehead to process the information bomb his student just dropped. Casimir's sickness wasn't new to him as he had been like that since arriving in the Clock Tower, but outside of London and Astromancy...
Chaldea. He didn't pay much attention to it even after the late Marisbury Animusphere's success, but he did see some movement around it as if they were preparing for something.
To think his own student would go there...
Come to think of it, both the United Nations and the Mage's Association are supervising that organization? Wha-
"I see." He sighs, really shouldn't waste that much time thinking about things outside his control or even view, "There is no reason to reject your request unless you're being forced into it... which seems to not be the case."
Soft gray eyes under long hair meet the now-former student's amber ones.
"Good luck."
"Thank you, Lord."
-
Casimir sighed, grabbing his cane. Again.
It has been over a week since joining his new department and he did nothing. The only instruction was to wait on a street on a specific date.
His leg was not in its best state, to say the least, and he was also not used to the lack of support. The cane is great until he thinks too much and his body acts as if nothing is different. It hurts like hell sometimes, but magical energy seems to keep the pain away enough to not distract him.
The Clock Tower was interesting to go to for the past 2 years. Well, if you don't count the times he THOUGHT he was on the verge of being kidnapped. Meeting the younger sibling of his teacher and that hooded girl also took a toll on him.
'I really think I saw too much than I should have... I should have said good luck to you too, Lord.'
Still, he was glad Lord El-Melloi II didn't ask more questions. It's not the first time the man didn't demand anything even in the weirdest situations like everything Flat did. In this regard, they were similar. After all, what sane person would just accept a letter from a man who died 3 years ago?
Who would have thought he would one day leave that class? He certainly did not if things continued normally. Alas, they did not and he will go to... wherever that organization is.
Speaking of.
He got something out of his coat's pocket. It was a polished steel case with a chain around it, a locket. The inside showed a piece of creased paper, dulled by time, of young Casimir and an old man smiling at the front.
He blinked, having forgotten to change it back. The figures morphed swiftly into arrows while the other details became transparent, revealing the true identity of this object.
A simple watch reading 7:58 AM.
'Someone should be here so-'
He fell again. Except this time he couldn't grab his cane.
-
Four sounds were heard through the white hallways of the building in Antarctica. Two belonged to the feet of certain Masters, one to a cane and the last to the voice of a man with blonde hair.
Unlike the other's disheveled appearance, he wore a dark, tailored coat over a light stripped vest and black pants. His body seemed to move on its own, either because of familiarity or memorization, while Casimir lagged behind.
"Chaldea is an organization that flourished after Marisbury Animusphere's win in the Grail War. It is a secret organization that turned semi-public to magus since then and it focuses on the survival of mankind... I would tell you more, but I am not privy to all secrets." His face was as blank as his tone and he stopped in front of the infirmary, knocking for the doctor to hear, "My name is Daybit Sem Void. You may call me Daybit. I would advise against calling me for help, ask Doctor Archaman where Kirschtaria Wodime is currently. He is the leader of Team A which you joined."
"Thank you. What am I here for exactly?"
"Chaldea, to be a Master. Team A, ask Kirschtaria. Infirmary, check up." The last part earned his leg a glance, but he didn't see that. "For what it's worth... I hope you won't regret this decision, Casimir."
"Uh... me neither." It might have been his imagination, but Daybit had the smallest of smiles before looking elsewhere.
As fast as he came when Casimir woke up, the man left. There was nothing specifically unfriendly about him, but he gave off an eerie vibe. As if a bug left another in the sight of a hungry frog.
'Advise against calling me for help...?'
Besides the strange warning, he got 2 new names. He has not heard about the doctor, but Kirschtaria is...
'That genius of the department I just joined.'
He was both the Chairman of Department of Astromancy and the disciple of Marisbury Animusphere, better even than the Lord's daughter. Casimir never interacted with him nor seen him, but...
"Isn't this guy nuts in terms of difficulty?" He murmured out loud, already imagining his own leader to be a Dark Souls' boss.
While the sinking feeling about maybe competing against him grew, the door opened to reveal a tall man with ginger hair locked in a ponytail. He looked... like a doctor, with this almost completely white clothing besides some teal in the middle.
"Hello, Casimir. My name is Romani Archaman, the head of the medical department, but you can call me Roman or simply doctor. I was waiting for you to arrive. I am sorry if the trip hurt you in any way." Roman smiled kindly with his sincere tone making Casimir shift uncomfortably.
He got too used to the Clock Tower's people with so many hidden motives in every interaction. Lord El-Melloi II's classroom was mostly a safe place in that regard, but there were still a few exceptions. And it's not as if he stayed there 24/7.
"I am fi-," And he already got in a coughing fit again. "I am fine."
"You don't sound fine. Are you sure?" The doctor asked out of habit quickly then slapped his forehead. "I am sorry, don't mind the question. That was rude of me. I already checked your past medical record. I only wish to check your circuits today."
Casimir hesitantly nodded and looked at the weird machinery in the corner of the room. If he was invited by the one man who treated him in the past then nothing like a checkup should get him kicked out, right?
-
"I see." A white-looking prince with blonde hair and blue-striking eyes responded to the eye-patched girl with auburn hair in a black suit. "All contact was lost after he went back to London?"
"Yes." Uncertainty clouded the girl's only blue eye. "Does that mean Team A is down a member already, Kirschtaria?"
"...Not necessarily, Ophelia. A new Master has arrived and I have been informed he is to join it. Think of it as a trade." He paused, thinking about something. "The timing is odd, but it's not a big loss. Team A has a high standard and Beryl was not one to take orders fully. He at least did jobs that he didn't like perfectly. Now he might have slipped while doing one he enjoyed. Do not worry about him."
"New member? Who?" If Wodime Kirschtaria told her to do something then she would, not that she cared about Beryl even for the team.
"I am only aware of their name which doesn't give me much information. Casimir." Admittedly he knew nothing until he checked and found the man was in the Department of Modern Magecraft Theory until recently.
His achievements did align with adapting old magecraft, but he seemed to be focused on Alchemy. His deteriorating health might have played a part in the choice.
"..." Ophelia's face unconsciously twisted with the unfamiliar name.
"Hm. Don't make that sour face. I already said I don't know myself so don't knock yourself down." With that, Wodime got up and raised a hand to stop her from following him. "I will go talk to Doctor Archaman."
After getting outside the room, he sighed and picked up the piece of paper Daybit left him from one of his many pockets. It was almost unheard of for him to do this kind of interaction.
'New member of Team A. Casimir. I think you will be interested in changing his results in the infirmary.'
He was sure of the doctor covering Casimir, but checking the changes would do better for leading his newest member and not slipping up about his possible differences. There was a good chance it was not the first time.
Romani Archaman did meet Marisbury a lot.