Codename: Tsaritsa | A Sequel to "Codename: Childe"

12

"That's highly unprofessional of him though... to sit her on his lap like that. Do you think she's his mistre-"

"Shh. We're at a funeral, Columbina. I advise you to keep quiet and refrain from stirring trouble."

She looked at the coffin and sighed.

"Who would've thought..."

You looked at Ajax to see his reaction to this, but he merely looked at the coffin with not so much as a twinge of remorse.

His face was set in stone, unchanging.

His eyes traveled to the two girls.

"Damselette, Arlecchino, quiet, please." he said in a calm tone.

His arms rested in either side of his chair, tapping his gloves hand in a soft rhythm, as he awaited what would happen next.

You looked around at the rest of the Harbingers, all wearing long, white coats.

There was a black haired man with glasses standing beside you, and when he caught you staring, he smiled a little.

"Hello..." he mouthed, trying not to arouse Ajax's attention.

Beside him, an old man stood with a long nose.

And when you strained your eyes, you could see a fully masked man, unable to take a look at his face.

Opposite you, stood Arlecchino and Damselette, along with a small green haired girl sitting in the hands of a Ruin Guard machine.

There was a familiar face at the end, wearing a mask that covered his eyes, rather than the ugly one you remember him with.

Dottore.

You grimaced a little, and he noticed this.

He gritted his jaw.

Outside, the snow whirled heavily, it's noise muffled by the thick walls of the hall.

An important looking man thundered into the hall, making you jump.

Ajax gently brushed your hand with his thumb, as if telling you not to panic, his head turning slowly to him.

He stood at one end of the coffin, breathing in audibly.

His mask covered half his face, his long blond hair brushing past his neck, his golden eyes piercing through the dimly lit room.

"Pierro..." Ajax whispered into your ear. "He's the director of the Harbingers. Our leader after Her Majesty."

A chess board was placed on the coffin, with two glowing chess pieces out of place among the regular, elegant looking pieces.

One glowed a mint green, a spheric structure, one that represented freedom, wings to break free.

The other a stark yellow, a cubic structure, one that represented something set in stone, a demand for order.

The muscular, tall man stared boredly at the chessboard.

"The sages think themselves all knowing..." he began, his voice booming, with a tone like scuffed boots being dragged along a badly painted wall.

The room fell even more silent than it had been before.

"But we alone are wise to the virtue in those acts of folly..."

His raised his hand and laid it gently on a white horse, almost as if it was a real one he was stroking.

Then he suddenly gripped it and knocked over a black pawn a few paces away, and watched it roll in a semicircle, the clacking sound of the piece against the board bouncing off the walls.