Stepping outside of Helena's room, Arthur walked back into campus, moving through the middle of the night as though he had simply returned from an evening at the library. He looked crisp, and composed nothing in his bearing to suggest anything nefarious had just taken place.
There was one detail, though, that kept shining through.
A grin.
Even as he tried to suppress it, the smirk kept creeping back. He couldn't help it. How could he? He finally had every piece he needed.
'All I need now is a drop of orc troll blood. Then I can begin the ritual.'
As he walked through campus he took a detour from his path back toward his dorm. Instead he headed deeper into the Virtue side of campus, one that is more reclusive compared to the others.
Deeper into the Virtues side, the architecture started to shift. The buildings here didn't look like student housing; they looked more like generational wealth made into stone and glass. Arthur stopped in front of one that resembled a five-star hotel, its entrance lined with butlers standing at attention like painted soldiers.
"Halt. What is your business?"
"I'm here to see my sister," Arthur said.
The butler's expression didn't change. "I would think you'd know you have no right to see her."
Without a word Arthur reached into his coat pocket and produced a letter, holding it out. The butler took it, unfolded it, and read through it carefully. A pause. Then a single nod.
"You may enter." He stepped aside. "But know this, sharing blood with Miss Morgana does not mean we will tolerate your presence here."
"Trust me," Arthur said, already walking past him. "I know."
He didn't look back.
Stepping inside, it felt like walking into the grand theater of the capital.
Polished marble stretched in every direction, gleaming so brightly it looked as though someone had finished buffing it minutes ago. The scale of the interior was deliberate, the kind of architecture designed to make you feel small, to remind you that the people who lived here were above you in every sense of the word. A circular open atrium rose above him, each floor ringed by iron railings where residents could look down at whoever had just walked in.
A few did.
Arthur ignored them and crossed the lobby toward the elevator.
He stepped in and pressed the button for the third floor. A soft ding, and the doors opened again.
Arthur stepped out into the hallway, following it to its end where a single door stood apart from the others set apart like whoever lived behind it preferred the distance.
He knocked.
"Come in." A light, feminine voice carried through the door.
Opening the door, a sweet aroma hit him immediately.
Cherries and raspberries — but underneath that, something familiar. A smell Arthur knew without needing to name it.
The smell of lust.
It didn't surprise him. Neither did the sight waiting on the other side. The room looked like a teenage girl's dream, plush animals littered every surface, clothes strewn across the floor. The walls were covered in posters of half-naked men, each one looking like a supermodel pulled from an advert.
Along the far wall a large pink bed dominated the room, taking up most of it. Big enough to fit five people and sleep comfortably. Proving that point, a slender figure was draped across it like she owned the world.
Her short blonde hair curled just above her shoulders, framing a face that belonged on a painter's canvas. Silky fabric draped over her curves loosely, giving her the impression of something soft to the touch like a marshmallow wrapped in silk. She looked like pure royalty and was treating herself like it too.
Three men lay beside her, half-dressed, mouths moving across her soft skin like it was something to be savored. She didn't look at them. She looked at Arthur.
"Little brother."
"Sister." Arthur dipped his head slightly, his eyes not lingering on the men draped around her.
"And to what pleasure do I owe you visiting me, dear brother?" Morgana asked.
Arthur rolled his eyes.
"As if you didn't slip a letter under my dorm room door last night. You couldn't even say hi."
"And why would I do that when I knew you'd show up today?" She tilted her head, unbothered. "It was as fate decided."
Arthur shook his head and said nothing, already used to her games.
"Enough with the games, sister." His tone didn't shift. "I know you already have what I need. I don't know how you know, but I assume it's in your best interest to hand it over. So give it to me and we can both be on our way. I won't have to bother you and your three stooges any further."
The three men turned in unison, eyes landing on Arthur with a sharpness that made their displeasure plain.
"Calm now, darlings." Morgana didn't even look at them. "It's alright. My poor brother simply doesn't understand what it truly means to have someone wrapped around your finger. He thinks it's all about sharing and enjoying others together." A soft laugh. "He's not so used to possessiveness like ours."
She reached down and cupped the jaw of the nearest man, drawing him up into a kiss. It was sweet on the surface. But the longer it lasted the more something shifted his eyes going glassy, his breath going shallow, his hands falling slack at his sides. Whatever had been behind his eyes quietly vacated. By the time she pulled back he looked like a shell of himself, blinking slowly at nothing.
Morgana turned back to Arthur, perfectly composed.
Arthur glanced at the man once, then back to her. "You done messing around with your meat bags?"
Morgana's frown came quick.
"You know, I was going to be kind and help my younger brother. I foresaw something that would make his life very difficult if I didn't." She tilted her head. "But you're making me reconsider."
"I'm sure whatever you saw is as fake as what you told our brother."
The warmth left Morgana's face entirely.
"You and I both know what I saw should have come to pass." Her voice dropped, measured and cold. "If not for father's unbreakable will you know exactly what would have happened."
She pointed at him. Not playfully.
Arthur held her gaze for a moment, then shrugged.
She wasn't necessarily wrong. He knew that. But there was more to it than what she let on there always was with Morgana. That was a conversation for another time.
"Alright, alright. You're right." He glanced at the three men. "So how about you hand over the orc troll blood so you can get back to your darlings."
Scoffing Morgana reaching back slipped her hand behind the cloth at the headrest and produced a vial. She tossed it across the room without ceremony.
Arthur caught it.
"Fine. I was going to give it to you today regardless." She settled back against the pillows. "But know this, I am not helping my sorry little brother again. Even if I see exactly how I could prevent his death."
"Oh, thank you, sister." Arthur turned the vial over in his fingers looking at the bright teal blood. "I'm so glad the harem-loving control freak wants to extend her reach to controlling my life as well. Truly. Thank you so much."
"Yeah, yeah. Get the hell out of here before I kill you myself."
Arthur let out a quiet chuckle as he moved toward the door.
"Love you too, sis."
The door clicked shut behind him.
Silence settled back into the room nothing but Morgana and her three boys. She shook her head slowly, a soft, smug look spreading across her face.
"Well." She glanced down at them. "Maybe you darlings should take care of your queen for a little bit. My dear brother has a gift for souring moods." A small pause. "But he means well."
"Yes, ma'am."
All three answered at once and descended on her.
—--
Back in his dorm, Arthur set the vial on his desk alongside the other components he'd gathered, some brought from home, others procured quietly through the various campus clubs and shops that catered to students with particular needs. Nobody questioned a Glyph and Rune Club member buying obscure materials; it was rather the norm.
He crossed to the far side of the room and crouched beside the floorboards. Third plank from the wall. He pressed his thumb into the seam and the board lifted clean, revealing the hollow beneath.
Vexing and Hex - The Ground Between Demons and Angels.
The book was worn at the spine, its pages thick with tabs and margin notes in his own handwriting. He'd been carrying it since before the academy. He'd read most of it twice. But for this he opened it to the bookmarked page three quarters of the way through and let the diagram unfold.
It scrolled out across both pages. A summoning array, precise and layered, with notation running along every margin. Arthur's eyes moved across it slowly, tracing each line the way a craftsman checks a blueprint before cutting.
He'd memorized it already.
He just wanted to be sure.
Satisfied, he closed the book and set it aside. Then he picked up the chalk and got to work.
Starting at the perimeter, Arthur moved with careful, deliberate strokes tracing the outer boundary first before working inward. Every line is measured. Every curve is exact. He moved to each corner and etched runic lettering directly into the baseboard, then worked upward, marking the walls in sequences that followed the notation from the book. By the time he reached the ceiling he had to drag his desk chair across the room and stand on it, chalk pressed flat against the plaster, neck craned back.
From the outside it would have looked like madness.
Every surface of his room was mapped and marked. Overlapping symbols climbing the walls. Glyphs bracketing the window. The floor was a web of interlocking lines that left almost no blank space between them.
But it was necessary.
What he was about to draw on would require Abyssaran dark mana and anyone with even a passing proficiency in standard mana who came within range would feel it immediately. Not as something foreign. As something hostile. Like an enemy standing dead in the center of the room. The protection array's job was simple: contain it. Seal the room so completely that nothing leaked through no pressure, no signature, nothing.
He stepped back and checked his work.
Then he moved to the center of the room and picked up the chalk again.
The containment was done.
Now for the summoning diagram the one meant for her specifically.
Lilith. Queen of Sinners.
Author Note: Patreon.com/Lord_Cuckles or search TabooQuill on Patreon.com