Prose Magica: The Ballad of the Seventeenth Part 12

Early morning light filtered through venetian blinds, casting a striped shadow over the jumble of sheets covering Charlotte Laufson. Her face had buried itself in her pillow while long, blonde hair splayed out and cascaded over the covers. With a groggy groan, she reached out to her bedside table, not bothering to lift her head as she groped and grabbed for her phone. The Callidus rolled over and stared at the screen with a tired, squinted eye still sore from crying herself to sleep. Wednesday. Five days since Odette had disappeared.

The first day had been easy enough. Sure, she had been worried sick, but the former warmaster had a habit of dropping off the face of the Earth for a few days at a time. Lotte had found ways to keep herself busy that day, to keep her mind off of what Odette might be going through. In the end, she'd spent the final hours of it wasting away on a bar stool trading memories with the Bartender.

Things got harder on the second day. The incubator had done Lotte the cruel kindness of giving her the week off to rest up. His caring always managed to carry that certain edge to it. Give her a week to stew in her sorrow. Give her a condo that cost god knows how much money as a parting gift for her abdication, while the person she cared for the most got nothing but a pink slip and an eviction notice. Maybe that was his plan all along.

By the fourth night, all she could do was think about all the things that she wished she'd said and done. Lotte couldn't even remember the last words she'd said to the little ex-warmaster. She'd never even worked up the courage to ask Odette to move in with her, even after her apartment had been broken into. Even Therese had offered to let her stay in the warmaster suite.

The Callidus pulled herself out of bed with a grunt and yawned as she made her way to the kitchen, still dressed in nothing more than her t-shirt and underwear. She cracked an egg and watched it fry as she rubbed the sleep from her pink eyes. A tired sigh escaped her lips as she played with the frying pan. With Odette gone, all of her mistakes seemed to come rushing back, fresh as the day before.

Lotte's eyes wandered to a picture frame long turned down. She couldn't forget it if she tried. In the middle was Odette's nervous, smiling face, freshly appointed as warmaster - her flowing white hair still long and her baseball cap tucked under one arm. Lotte herself - then Callidus rank leader - leaned over with her arm wrapped around the warmaster's shoulders, trying her best to mush her breasts into Odette's face and make her blush for the camera. Therese stood to the warmaster's left trying to hide her anxiety and look professional after just being named Eversor lead after Odette vacated the position. Harriet Blinde, the Culexus rank leader, loomed in the background with her black hooded cloak draped over her hardsuit, one piercing, yellow eye peering through the shattered hole in the left side of her helmet.

And then there was the girl that Lotte didn't allow herself to forget.

The scent of burning egg assaulting her nose shook the blonde from her stupor, making her flail about for a plate to slide the egg onto. In her absentmindedness, Lotte realized she hadn't even remembered to make toast for her breakfast. The Callidus sighed as she fished around in her freezer for a couple slices of bread. Popping them in the toaster, she leaned back against the kitchen counter, once again having little more to do than lose herself in her thoughts.

Two years ago. That was when it happened. Miranda Farewell was her name, but everyone just called her Mimi. She was the youngest of the rank leaders, having only been contracted a year and a half before Odette came to power. Her costume looked just like traditional funeral garb, lace veil and all. Somehow, Lotte had managed to butt heads with her from day one. The kid was all too intent on following rules and procedures; she was talented - greatly so - but lacked the experience and wisdom that came with age.

In reality, as Lotte had come to admit to herself, they had both simply been vying for the warmaster's attention. Nothing more than a couple of teenage girls with a crush on the same person.

The Callidus huffed as the toast popped. Her mind wandered as she ate her breakfast in silence, dwelling on the past and thinking about the future. As she finished the last bites of her slightly-overcooked egg, her brain switched to the present and she became aware of her current pitiful state. Following a deep breath, she glanced out the window and across the city, then muttered a quiet observation.

"I need to get out of the house."

✱✱✱

Wind whistled through the skyscrapers of Toronto's financial district - an unseasonable cold that clung onto the spring as though trying to claw its way back into being. Gray clouds hung over head, a matching ceiling to the towering concrete walls of the city. Lotte shivered as she wandered aimlessly through the streets, her hands shoved deep into the pockets of her favourite fur-lined parka.

For the second time in her life, she couldn't simply calm herself with mindless hedonism. Her mind couldn't settle on any one thing to do. She'd alright spent enough nights perched on a bar stool. No way was she going to let herself become some whiskey-drenched alcoholic. The only person she cared to share her bed with was absent; that being the very source of her current restlessness.

One hand left her coat pocket and reached deep into that of her pants. The Callidus pulled her cellphone up with a haste that surprised even herself - the pocket nearly turning inside out as she yanked it. She stared at the screen as she trudged onward to nowhere. Her thumb flicked up and down, skimming through her gratuitous amount of contacts. Lotte couldn't help but find it funny how she knew so many people, yet there were so few that she was willing to confide in.

Therese was out of the question. They hadn't been on the best of terms for at least a year - even worse after Odette's impeachment. There were Odette's two lackeys - or fan girls as the Callidus saw them - but Lotte had never interacted much with them, despite being so close to the former warmaster. She wasn't even sure where the twins had come from, exactly. They just seemed to appear one day and follow Odette's beck and call.

Lotte couldn't bring herself to bother the Bartender or the Russian any more than she already had. They'd already been far too kind to her as it was. She considered visiting the Eversor in the hospital for a moment just as her eyes focused on one person she hadn't considered. Lotte's thumb hovered over the call button for a timid moment, then tapped it as she inhaled and put the phone to her ear.

A ring.

Then two.

After three rings, her call was answered by a nostalgic, slow, raspy voice distorted through a perpetually broken vox.

"Ah. Yo, Harry," Lotte greeted the Culexus rank leader. "It's Lotte. Long time no talk, eh?"

The Callidus grinned sheepishly as the Culexus greeted her in kind. It had been months since they'd spoken, even after staying close throughout Odette's tenure as warmaster. There was something refreshing about talking to such an old friend. Harriet had been contracted only a year before Lotte, around the same time as Odette had. The two were well-known as the two longest serving magical girls still active in the officio - each having somewhere near seven years under there belt. All who had come before them were either dead or retired, it seemed.

"Yeah, just figured I'd see how you were doin' and stuff," Lotte said, finding herself strangely nervous all of the sudden. "You, um, you've heard the news, right?"

She paused as Harriet voiced the affirmative, her slow voice making her sound all the more somber.

"Yeah, it's... Yeah. I'm- I'm doin' alright. Been better," the blonde stammered as she tried her best to put on a collected face. "How 'bout you?"

Harriet had always had an uncanny knack for seeing right through people, however, and this time was no different. Lotte pursed her lips, her walk becoming something more akin to a trudge as she weaved through pedestrians.

"Y- Yeah. Yeah. Okay. You got me," she conceded. "I'm a fuckin' wreck. What do you expect?" The Callidus paused briefly as she caught herself before her rant to go on any longer. "I... Uh, I'm sorry. That- That wasn't-" Lotte nodded as Harriet did her best to calm the Callidus. "I know, I know. Can't hide shit from you, ya creep. So what about you? Heard you went a little quiet after O got the boot."

The blonde kept strolling through the cold and windy streets while listening to Harriet slowly explain the state of her being. She had been one of Odette's closest friends - her reaction to the one-eyed girl's dismissal being evidence enough to that. The few people around Harriet had noted that she became more cold and distant, especially toward the incubator and the new warmaster. Lotte made a timid chuckle as the Culexus explained that the feelings between them were mutual - that she, too, had been worried sick.

"I thought as much. It's just... Christ," the blonde answered, "I just can't sit still. I need to DO something but I can't do shit because Terry and the fatass haven't said shit to anyone about anything and I just- FUCK. What the hell are they dragging their feet for?! The best girl this officio's ever seen goes missing and they just sit there picking their asses and I-"

Lotte paused as Harriet urged her to stop and take a deep breath. She could already feel her cheeks running hot and could only imagine how red her face was.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Lotte muttered, shaking her head, "I didn't mean to snap at you like that. You don't need this."

Something about Harriet's slow speech was oddly calming to the flustered Callidus. She had always been the voice of reason amongst the previous set of rank leaders. Despite her usual appearance and the sound of her voice, she had a certain motherly charm. Harriet was a calm observer, always prepared to give a frank opinion and a good word of advice when needed.

"Charlotte," the Culexus began, her vox-corrupted voice coming through like the grating of sandpaper, "it seems to me that you have been rudely and abruptly been made aware of your own mortality." She paused as short crackles of static popped from the phone's speaker. "I believe that you would do well to take heed of this lesson. Do not dally in your pursuits, whatever they may be. I have watched you for far too long and my patience for this matter has worn thin over the years."

"And..." Lotte paused and bit her lip, trying to force the words out. "And what if she doesn't come back?"

"Then you have truly been taught what happens to procrastinators in the harshest of manners. But you and I, we both know that Odette does not fall so easily."

The blonde nodded and gulped as the thoughts sank in. "Hey, uh, any chance you might want to come down and hang out some time?" She asked meekly, idly fiddling with a strand of wind-blown hair. "Been a while since we've had a get-together or anything."

Lotte nodded again as the Culexus gave her response. " That's cool," she muttered, hanging her head, "Yeah, I understand. Some other time then."

The two said their good byes and Lotte slipped the phone back into her pocket as she pushed herself off the wall and back into the street. She didn't know exactly how long she had walked for, but the sky seemed to grow a darker shade of gray by the time she found herself in front of the stairs down to Harrison's bar.

It was a homey little place nestled a floor below ground on a busy street corner. A large wooden sign with carved, sweeping font hung on the wall over the stairway, proudly announcing the place as having been established in 1924. Lotte had always wondered whether or not it was true. Black, wrought iron bars fenced in the stairs, decorated by an enlarged, framed copy of the menu.

The single white door jingled softly as Lotte entered, shivering as she pulled her coat on just a bit tighter. A woman with long, shimmering blonde hair was on stage, playing a violin while singing a slow, mournful melody in what the chilly Callidus could only assume was Russian. With a nod at the redheaded Bartender, Lotte took her seat and rubbed her hands together, desperate to get warm.

"Afternoon, Shirley," said the Bartender with a sharp grin as she leaned over the counter. "Had a feelin' I'd be seein' you again."

"Got nothing better to do," Lotte answered before adding, "and don't call me Shirley."

"For free drinks I can call you whatever I want, kiddo," the redhead retorted, pulling a bottle of her best whiskey from her sleeve with a dull glow. " So any news?"

"Yeah, they found two people," Lotte grumbled. "Their names are Jack and Shit."

"Christ," the Bartender muttered as she fished around under the counter for a glass. "Snowflake's really fucked up now, huh?"

Lotte smirked and let out a half-hearted chuckle. "She'd kill you if she heard you call her that."

"Ask me how many fucks I give," the redhead said, finally setting a few ounces of whiskey in front of the Callidus. "Go on, ask me."

"Tell me, Red," Lotte asked as she put the glass to her lips, "how many fucks?"

"Not a single one!" she exclaimed with a snap of her fingers. "Ruskie and I damn near raised that little twerp. I can call her whatever the fuck I want."

The Callidus swirled her glass and gave the Bartender a smirk. The redhead would have been beautiful if it weren't for her speech. She was rude, crude and had a voice like gravel in a blender after her years of smoking. Lotte's chin found it's way to her hands and she rocked her head back and forth, staring into her drink. She didn't even like whiskey, but it's what the Bartender insisted on giving her as of late. The label on the bottle was a faded gold with bright, crimson font reading 'Harrison's Finest'. She claimed it was specially imbued with magical girl powers to go down easier and get you drunk all the faster for it. The best you could find, or so the redhead claimed.

"Hey, Red?" Lotte asked, still cradling her chin in her hands. "Mind if I ask you a bit of a personal question?"

"Shoot."

"What's it like to, y'know," Lotte gestured to the ring on the Bartender's finger with her chin, "have somebody and stuff?"

"Can't complain," the redhead answered. "I get to wake up with a hot blonde in my bed every morning. If that ain't the best thing, I don't know what is."

"So do I. Doesn't seem that great to me."

"Haha," the Bartender responded in monotone, "lookie here, folks. We got a fuckin' comedian."

"I'll be here all night," Lotte said with a grin. "But seriously, how is it?"

"Honestly?" The Bartender leaned further over the bar, lowering her voice. "It's the best. I mean, that's what newly-weds always say anyways, right? But damn, it's... It's somethin' else."

"Still can't believe you two finally got married."

"Eh, took us a while to get there," the barkeep added. "We got contracted, what? Nine years ago? Only reason we lasted so long is each other." She lowered her head to look the Callidus in the eye, a strangely sympathetic gesture for the usually uncaring Bartender. "Why? You gonna finally pop the question to Snowflake when she gets back?"

"No! I mean, well, yes, but... ugh," Lotte took a deep, strained breath to reorder her thoughts. "Not THE question. I was just thinking of asking her if she wanted to... retire together. With me. And stuff."

"And stuff." The Bartender nodded, changing her posture to lean back on the bar on her elbows. "Can't say it's a terrible idea. A bit late to quit while you're ahead, but at least you ain't hit rock bottom yet. Well, you didn't. Snowflake kind of did for a while there. Better late than never is basically what I'm trying t'say here."

Lotte made a muffled "hrm" in acknowledgement before taking a second sip of her drink. "I was thinking, since O likes her peace and quiet, maybe somewhere up north. One of those sleepy little towns with like ten people all named Frank."

"Even the girl?"

"Even the girl."

"Y'know," the Bartender started, that terrible grin never managing to leave her face, "I never understood the appeal of all that small town bullshit. Call me a city gal, but it weirds me out when there's no noise. No action. Feels wrong."

"Certainly explains your big mouth," Lotte replied with a smirk of her own.

"Well ain't you a cheeky little shit," the Bartender growled, pinching one of the blonde's cheeks.

"Ow. Ow. OWOWOWOWATCH THE FACE-"

"'ll teach you to talk back to your elders," the redhead said with a certain note of pride. "Oh, by the way. Your friend with the lame ass hoodie's been checkin' you out for a few minutes now." She pointed unenthusiastically behind Lotte to a dimly lit corner of the pub. "What fuckin' chump, sittin' in the corner like some kinda mysterious stranger all broodin' an' shit."

Lotte glanced over her shoulder, peering into the corner booth. Sure enough, there was the girl in the dark hoodie giving her a teasing wave.

"Ah hell," the blonde muttered. "When did she get here?"

"Few minutes after you did," the Bartender replied, pushing herself off the bar counter. "Looks like you've got yourself a stalker, Shirley. Who is she, anyway?"

"Just a friend," the Callidus answered quietly. "I'll go see what she wants. Talk to you later, Red." She paused, then after a moment's consideration added, "And send me over a damn mojito."

"Yeah, yeah," the Bartender mumbled as she waved Lotte off. "Later, twerp."

Heaving herself out of her seat, Lotte shoved her hands in her pockets as she wove a path between tables and past the all too young looking cocktail waitresses. She swore she could see the slightest glint of a pearly white grin beneath the darkness that unnaturally veiled her face.

"Hey pretty lady," Surrey called out as Lotte slid into the booth. "You come here often?"

The blonde narrowed her eyes, her brow forming a nearly straight line. "How did you know where to find me?"

"We like to keep tabs," the hooded girl answered with a sly smirk. "Get it? Cause we're in a bar and-"

"What do you want?"

"No fun, Laufson. No fun at all. I need a bit of information, same as usual," replied Surrey as she swirled her finger around the rim of a glass in front of her. "We've got a new plan, but we'll need a few things before we can kick off the fireworks. You in?"

"Depends," Lotte said, "you tell me what it is you need first, then we'll talk."

"Well," Surrey started, "it's like this. Turns out this whole... whatever you want to call it with the contract amendment actually works out in our favour. Everyone's mighty pissed, and consider everything else going on... All we need now is to give the officio a little push in the right direction, and it's split clean in two."

"Get to the point," the blonde groaned, "I wasn't exactly hoping my night would turn out this way."

"Night?" The hooded girl let out a snort of laughter. "Laufson, it's four in the afternoon."

"That early, huh? Shit..."

"Yup, so don't you start slippin' on me. We still got need for you," Surrey said, a bit more accusatory than Lotte would have liked. "What I need right now is a few things about the key players here. Who's at the top of the food chain, so to speak. Specifically, your warmaster."

"Terry?" Lotte asked, laughing to herself. "You want to know about Terry? Last I checked, you could look her up on the internet."

"Yeah, well," Surrey averted her eyes as her constant smirk tugged at the edges of her mouth a bit more than Lotte was comfortable with, "there are some things you can't find so easily. We like to get what we can before we starting tapping phones and bugging offices. I want to know what makes her tick. Where we can... put a little pressure to give her a gentle push in the direction we want."

"You want to know her weaknesses."

"More or less."

A waitress slid Lotte's drink onto the table without a word, after which the Callidus took a slow sip through the straw. "Well. There's always her anger issues. That's the big one that comes to mind," Lotte offered, "but you probably already knew that."

"Her episodes. Yeah," Surrey nodded, "we've heard of them."

"A couple years ago, right after, y'know-"

"The Miranda incident."

"Right," the blonde replied, her head hanging a fraction lower than before. "After the 'Miranda incident' if that's what you want to call it. Harriet nearly killed herself trying to keep Terry off me. You shoulda seen the size of the needle they jammed in her to sedate her. Took three of them to finally put her down."

"That tough, huh?"

"Shit yeah," Lotte snorted out a laugh before taking another sip of her drink. "She's a fuckin' monster when she gets mad."

"Stronger than Miss Brighton?"

"I... I don't know. In a fair fight I'd say it's a toss up," the Callidus prodded at her straw as she tried to think the hypothetical fight through. "O's got speed and smarts, but Terry's got brute strength. Not too bright, though."

"No?" Surrey asked, her interest suddenly piqued.

"Terry's never been the sharpest tool in the shed. Very 'storm the gates, guns blazing'," Lotte chuckled, gesturing wildly. "She isn't what you'd call 'leader material', exactly. Hell, most of the senior girls still want O back in power on account of the fact that she actually DID stuff when she wasn't pickin' fights. Terry just sits around and looks nervous. The Corbins do most of her work for her, as far as I know."

"At least she's not one of those warmaster's that just screws around playing grab-ass with the other girls," the hooded girl commented, sounding more than slightly annoyed.

"Honestly, I think I'd prefer that kind of warmaster over this," Lotte replied. "'least that way there'd be some sense of leadership."

"To each their own, I guess," Surrey conceded, leaning back in her seat to rest her elbows atop the backrests. "So she's got the administrative talent of a bull gorilla and she's not looked upon well for it. Anything else come to mind?"

"Just one thing and I don't even know if I'd call it a weakness," the blonde absentmindedly bit her lip as she turned the thought over, "but she's got this aide that's a bit of a... problem child."

"I've heard of her. Argente, the one with the hairclips, right?"

"Right," Lotte murmured, taking another short sip of her drink. "I think Terry only keeps her around cause she's good with the books, but," the Callidus leaned over the table, lowering her voice as she spoke, "she's got this real hard-on for pissing on Odette. She wants her dead more than anything in the world."

"What for?"

"Hell if I know," Lotte shrugged. "Some say it's cause Odette passed over her when choosing a new Vindy leader, but I don't know. Ty's not a fighter. The girl hardly ever gets combat missions, usually just book-keeping and meeting with people."

"And how is her relationship with the," Surrey hesitated for moment before putting emphasis on her next words, "current warmaster?"

"With Terry? First word that comes to mind is 'sycophant'," the Callidus snickered and shook her head, "next would be 'brown-nose'. You get where I'm going with this."

"Right, right. And the warmaster herself?"

"Terry tolerates her, but not a whole lot beyond that. Hairclips isn't exactly subtle or cunning with her... vendetta against Odette, or whatever you want to call it, so Terry gets mighty pissed whenever she tries anything. Other than that," Lotte shrugged as she began to run out of words, "Ty's the only person to put her name in for Equerry consideration so far, so Terry's been dragging her feet and hoping someone else wants the position. That's about all I can think of that'd be of any use to you."

"Oh, I think you've given me plenty," Surrey flashed a wicked grin beneath her hood before leaning over the table. "Now, we gonna talk payment now or later?"

Lotte thought for a moment as she processed what precious little she understood of the hooded girl's objectives. After a long drink she put her elbow to the table and held her chin in her hand, a smirk creeping across her face.

"You keep asking me for information," she began, gesturing with her other hand, "getting me to try and pull Odette into your schemes, making big promises that I don't know how the hell you expect to keep, and I just can't figure it out. One moment you seem to want one thing, the next you want another. I thought - for a while - that you wanted to put O back in power so you'd have someone higher up under your thumb... Seemed logical enough." The Callidus narrowed her eyes, resting her chin on the back of her palm. "But now this? Going after Terry? Splitting the officio in two? You talk like you want a war here."

"Could you be a bit more specific with your question?"

Lotte's smirk vanished in an instant as her voice went cold. "What exactly is it that you're trying to achieve here? I don't like being fucked with."

"I'm afraid that's a little out of your price range, Laufson," Surrey smiled in a way that seemed to tip-toe the borders of innocent and condescending. "Anything else?"

"Is Odette coming back?" The blonde asked. "Surely you and your connections should be able to figure that one out. Or is that out of my price range, too?"

"That's two questions. Which would you prefer me to answer?"

"Don't be a smart ass."

"Will she be back?" Surrey giggled, a sound that sent shivers up Lotte's spine. "Signs point to yes."

"Good," Lotte responded as she slid out of the booth and shoved her hands deep into her coat pockets. "Then leave us the fuck out of this and don't contact me again. I'm done with you and your people."

The hooded girl merely continued to laugh to herself as the blonde stormed out of the pub. A small flame flickered to life at her fingers tips. She watched as it danced before her eyes, rolling and tumbling it over and under her fingers and across her hand.

"The return of the Winter Warmaster," she whispered with glee, her eyes glistening in the fire's light. "How exciting."