“So… what do we do about the book?” said Cordelia looking around the dimly lit room, where several characters sat each in a deep leather armchair, each of their faces illuminated by a fire shimmering in the corner of the room. “Every one of us wants it and if one were to take it by force, the others would quickly overwhelm him” continues Ezekiel. A very old man, his image covered with many a grey hair and scar, in a deep vibrant voice suggests, “Whatever would you crave in return for surrendering it Ezekiel?”. Perhaps if the person lost an arm and a leg I might be entertained enough. Saber starts to say something but is swiftly cut off by Ezekiel, “You are in no position to make demands Saber, I’m not afraid to take you on, the only ones here who can make demands except Astrophel is Callidora and Cordelia”. “How about two castles then?”, says Cordelia. Callidora makes an effort to look in the direction of Cordelia, even though her blindfold makes it a slightly problematic task, “Truly, you would yield your claim for the low price of two castles?”. “Each”, adds Cordelia. “The proposition is highly reasonable”, replies Callidora, but I must conclude this debate for the time being for Astrophel seems to be somewhat Drowsy and I myself would greatly benefit from a slight whiff of fresh air. Cordelia snaps at Cordelia, “And who will guard the book if we’re out?”. Saber shyly and now with a slightly startled gaze at Ezekiel, suggests “Since Callidora has limited omnipotence she will be able to keep oversight of the book, while I keep an eye on her”. “Yep, sounds swell”, exclaims Ezekiel driving his palms right into the old carved wooden door; after the loud collision Ezekiel left the room with Cordelia and Saber in tow. Callidora sighs softly and beckons her butler close, whispering in his ear “Sabien, would you mind doing something about that clock, please”. Sabien bows deeply and humbly, “Yes, ma’am”. “Shall we?”, asks Clerval with hand extended towards Callidora. “Thank you, I am able to stand by myself but walking around without colliding with all the walls is the arduous task, safe your care for later.”. And so, Clerval and Saber walk slowly, leading Callidora through the halls towards a moonlit corridor with a wall full of windows, all of which are now open.

Ezekiel and Cordelia may have a terrible temper, but they sure know how to make a good draft. The walls are lined with classic wooden carvings with depictions of torture, every stake a different carving. Some are lined with twisted metal reinforcements shaped into giant snake skeletons topped with animal sculptures of a cat, a winged man, a raven and a lion. “Have you ever been here before Callidora?”, Clerval inquires. “The Jadewill Mansion’s then residents never let anyone enter other that mortals.”. “However I heard that you met the family head, what happened to them?”, Clerval asked on. Callidora smirking continues, “After Lucilla Jadewill’s death, her sister massacred the Jadewill family in retribution, not much is known about the incident. Though without her father’s centuries of wisdom, which I must say he did not express in his manners even slightly, she could not tend to the mansion and wasn’t able to carry on her clan’s legacy. The Jadewill family was no more.”. If you met him\ldots{} how old are you Callidora? Oh that is no question to ask of a lady like myself. You are utmost correct on that Callidora, I apologize. Callidora turns her head in the general direction of Clerval, informing him that she wants to advise him on a matter very important, “The Jadewill lineage is exceptionally longer than you think and considering the mansion’s history the souls it claimed must be incomprehensible. None of us has the business of owning such a thing.”.

Saber raises his hand to stop the trio. “What might it be Saber?”, asks Clerval, “wait… ohh, what is that smell?”. “This way”, signs Saber. The three run down the corridor to a half-open door. Saber lightly nudges the door with the rear of his hand. “Keep your eyes on the book” shouts Clerval. Callidora gently nodding. Saber catches a glimpse of what is inside and turns around to vomit on the floor. Callidora tenderly addresses the vomiting pile of gibbering nonsense on the floor, “Oh we do have to do something about that weak stomach of yours, now don’t we Saber?”. Clerval peers inside just to be met with Astrophel’s face. Continuing upwards with his gaze he comes to see that his upper body is completely wrapped in spiked chains, shred absolutely to pieces and bleeding. Clerval momentarily pauses pondering whether the part covered in chains is the upper or lower body, considering the chain is attached to the ceiling causing Astrophel’s lifeless body to gently sway upside down in the wind coming through the door. Ezekiel, hearing the commotion, tears in and promptly slips on the blood.

Back in the room, now shorter by one very old man.

“So who was it Callidora?”, nags Cordelia, “you know who it was… just spill the beans so we can punish them already!”. “I will tell you in due time”. Ezekiel stands up, “If you aren’t telling us them it must’ve been Sabien acting on your orders, whatever she whispered when we left, must’ve been the old man’s death sentence”. Callidora sips a smidgen of tea and as if to herself notes, “Oh how the young gentleman does like to cry wolf. Scon anyone? Tea perhaps?.”.

“Nevermind”, rasps out Callidora sounding quite unsettled, and looking upwards at the ceiling. “What’re you on about?”, the loud boy tries to bark, before grabbing his head in immesne pain, and seeing the source of the pain, attempted to lash out at it. Just as his hand connected with a shiny cross on the ceiling, with a flash of light, he was gone. Yet instead of him, the center of the room had been filled, by a four-winged being, standing about 3 feet off the floor, with a sword in each hand, flowing white hair, and donning the name Nephilim.

Callidora, in contrast to one’s expectations of her, did not greet this stranger to her kind. The being, very slowly extended it’s hand towards the book, after which it opened and a slip of paper was taken into Nephilim’s hand. Everybody’s headaches and a collapsed Cordelia stood up as before, when the being unexisted with yet another great flash of cross-shaped light. Every person save for Callidora had a stunned look on their face, one that reads “What in the nine hells just happened?”. Callidora, started calmly explaining,

“That was Nephilim, a collector of souls, for heaven’s next age. Humanity is by its nature corrupt, and when the world is beyond the control of the heathens. They start again, anew, this world shall be the 10th hell and Eden will become the new world. But they need the purest of souls to populate new Eden, and so they steal from us. That right is their’s to keep, for by definition, it is an act of God.”,

and as the clock struck ten, it was midnight, and on the strike of midnight, it was so.