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16 octobre 1537 : mort de Françoise de Foix, maîtresse de François Ier ➽ https://j.mp/2l0bmsh Elle n’avait pas 25 ans lorsqu’elle parut pour la première fois à la cour du roi lors du baptême du dauphin, et bientôt céda à la passion qu’elle avait inspirée au monarque
TW: Blood, graphic violence, death
CW: attempted assassination, war, vampires
R:
In another world, war was a constant. Though it was the late 1890s, peace had yet to reach the people of Europe. Many said it was the fault of the various kings and nobles that squabbled over land. Others feared it was a darkness that had cursed the land, to forever be in the midst of battle, to feed the blood hungry grounds. In truth, there were shadows operating to take control of things. Shadows that had no name to normal people. Yet to one, these shadows were a very real thorn in her side.
La Comtesse, Rosaline Arcanum, pure blood vampire, ancient in age, mysterious in vision, lived to keep such shadows at bay. Her home lay at the edge of Paris. An expansive castle, it housed men from history who had been brought back to help save humanity from itself.
Inside, a normal morning started, the men all sitting around the dining room table being served by Sebastian the butler. Notably, one was absent from the table: La Comtesse herself.
"Sir Leonardo, have you seen la Comtesse, this morning? She had urgent mail delivered about an hour ago."
"No, afraid not, Sebastian. Check her training room after breakfast?" He suggested with a smooth smile.
.......
Techno blared, she floated mid-air, teacups circling her. Her hair looked as if it were under water, an eerie light running across the whitish silver threads that were her hair. Eyes closed, the cups drifted around her lazily, smoothly as if set adrift down a slow river.
A knock unheard, again and again till the door opened. "M. la Comtesse, pardon me. You have urgent mail."
Lavender eyes opened, the cups drifting over to make a neat pile on the dresser. "Good morning Sebastian." She stated before flicking her wrist and the music shut off. "What kind of urgent message?"
"A request for military support from France."
A sigh, the only sound in the room before the click of shoes landing on the tile. Coat fluttered behind her as she walked past him to her study. He followed, moving quickly to catch up. "M. la Comtesse, there are also several letters from potential suitors. Perhaps you could consider one of them while you prepare for things?"
Another loud sigh. "How many times do I need to tell you to give up on finding me a partner? Love with me is something that will only prove fatal. A poison, sweet at first, but a quick ticket to an early grave."
Heart clenched, she went on like this every time he mentioned finding someone. "I won't give up on your happiness, M. la Comtesse. You shouldn't either."
Lavender glanced back at him before a self-deprecating laugh left her. "Do as you wish. It won't change the reality of the situation. My heart is and always will be cold and dead to that world. Now, hot chocolate please while I answer these."
"Of course, Comtesse." He quickened his pace back to the kitchen to meet her request.
Her answer to help aid France in battle was an affirmative, while it was a polite decline to the letters from suitors. They all meant well, but she would be the death of them should she ever give in and try to love one of them. She couldn't, wouldn't, let another man die the same way her first husband had, even though his trying to leave her had been what triggered the tragic events of that day
.......
That afternoon, lunch, the dining room was full again. The chatter was lively, but it died down as the click of fine shoes approached.
"We are off to war again in two days. Jean, Napoleon, you will come with me. The rest of you will stay here and guard Paris should something happen."
Jean and Napoleon glanced at one another before they nodded in affirmation. Joining la Comtesse on the field was a rare treat, as it was there, and only there, that she let loose with her powers. "It would be an honor, Comtesse." Jean spoke with reverence.
"Good. Training for both of you with me after lunch and then we leave for the front." She sat down, smiling her usual contented smile.
.......
Lunch passed quickly that afternoon. Outside, Jean and Napoleon waited for la Comtesse to show up. At last footsteps sounded in the soft earth. "Sorry to keep you both waiting. I had another urgent message. The sender likely won't be as happy as the one made the King of France this morning. Now, let us begin, shall we?"
Both nodded before she began to speak again. “Jean, go ahead and change to your metal form. Fly around and let's see if you can hit some targets. Napoleon, your job is to make the projectiles that Jean makes heated. I suggest that you set his metal wings on fire. You won’t hurt him while he’s in his metal form, so worry not. I’ll be supervising and making sure neither of you get hurt.”
Jean concentrated and turned into an obsidian metal man with large jet black angel wings. Taking flight, he circled above like a vulture looking down at its prey. Napoleon looked at Rosaline before concentrating and flames erupted over Jean. Soon he glowed red hot. “Fire!” La Comtesse yelled. Hot metal feathers rained down on the field, la Comtesse deflecting them to the desired spots. She signaled them both to stop and Jean came down.
“Bravo, gentlemen. Stick to this sort of tactic on the battlefield and you will have no problems. If either of you need help just shout and I’ll hear you, regardless of where you are. I have no doubts that our campaign will be successful. Napoleon, till we depart, do your best to practice controlling your powers. Jean has much more experience than you in this regard. Also, given that this will be your first battle with me, I suggest that you stay near me in case something happens. Napoleon, I also have armor for you to wear, so please try it on.”
……
That evening, la Comtesse descended the stairs, sword in hand, her battle outfit on. “Gentlemen, are you ready?” Her words were greeted by widened eyes. A confident smile from one, a reverent gaze from the other.
“Ready, my Lady.” Napoleon cleared his throat and nodded, signaling he was ready.. Jean bowed his head, staying silent and followed.
…….
“Charge!” The commander of the French army yelled. Lines of soldiers took off running, as did the cavalry. Rosaline, Napoleon and Jean all took off running with them, but they stayed in the front of the soldiers. Soon the sounds of metal hitting metal rang out, the metallic and acrid smell of blood in the air. Men screaming and the smell of death soon took over.
“Jean, go!” Rosaline ordered. Jean turned black and beat his wings to take off. “Napoleon, focus on the oncoming soldiers here on the left, and aid Jean. I have the soldiers on the right.”
“As you wish, my lady.” Napoleon focused and fire began to surround him. His sword caught fire and he charged into the oncoming soldiers. Soldiers who caught sight of him turned and ran, others shouted things like “monster” and tried to take him down. Both did not survive the heat that Napoleon spewed out over the battlefield.
Comtesse truly let loose at times like this. Swords, rocks, cannon balls, you name it, she moved it and made it a high-speed projectile. The few that made it through this barrage were taken down by her sword, or driven mad by the things she placed in their minds. Some even began to attack their fellow soldiers. Had any of them realized she was causing this, they would have run for their lives, not that it would have made much of a difference.
The German commander watched the battle in shock and awe. He had heard the French were formidable, but this was far worse than the rumors than he had heard. It was as if God himself was backing their army. Then there was something in the sky that was raining down death, something he had no explanation for. The one thing that he could say though: the legends were true. Anyone who had the backing of Comtesse Arcanum, would win a battle. A sigh left him before he started working on a retreat strategy, or a surrender.
