I am not from here, I have nowhere to go. Aelius means sun, and Anatole means sunrise.”
#ASRA THE ARCANA IMEME I WOULD DIE FOR YOU FREE#
“You’re free to go, if you want, and that’s my name. The Raccoon stood on his legs, and gently patted Anatole’s face with its paws.
Panting, he made his way to the nearest staircase and finally let go of the little one. He should’ve gone to his Aunt’s but he was already there. The Raccoon had tore through his sleeve, and he was bleeding. He ran past the foyer, standing in the middle of the main hallway completely out of breath, Adrenalin still pumping through his veins. The Raccoon pressed his nails into his arm scratching him through his shirt, but Anatole held it close to his chest and ran all the way from the Colosseum to the Heart District, where he knew he would not be found. Hitting the person holding the Raccoon on their side, Anatole took it. A notice-me-not spell came to Anatole’s fingers, and there was a blinding light shot at the handlers as Anatole made his way to the animal, shoving everyone aside. It cried.Įverything else happened in a blur. One of the handlers took it by the scruff of the neck, revealing it was a baby Raccoon. The voice he couldn’t recognise was the animal’s. Anatole paused: how could he tell those things? His language magic didn’t allow him to communicate with animals, the only animals he could listen to was Faust and Cesario, but those were familiars. It was fighting tooth and claw to free itself, afraid, hungry and mistreated. His magic picked up anger, distress, defensiveness, all so strong he altered his path in a heartbeat, soon arriving at the part of the market where exotic animals and other things were illicitly sold.Ī group of people were trying to handle a fuzzy animal which must have not been older than six months. Discovering himself successful in his pursuit, with the book he was looking for secured in his bag, he decided to have a look around, just in case he found another book, perhaps some ink or quill, or something one of his cousins, Paris or Valeriy might find useful.Īs he walked around a - was it a voice? Turmoil? Sounds? A Cry? - called to him. Finding the bookseller alley wasn’t hard, he already knew where it was. The market was crowded, lit in that familiar crimson light which gave it its name, the smell of incense, fumes, and more things Anatole could recognise coming to him. The only business he desired to have with that place was a very needed criminal system reform - but with the current state of Vesuvia and it’s Count it didn’t seem likely. He had never witnessed a fight, and he didn’t feel a need to, refusing to go.
#ASRA THE ARCANA IMEME I WOULD DIE FOR YOU TRIAL#
He rarely went there, unless he went to a trial of law along with Valeriy or Cassiopeia, or to the place he was headed now.
He headed to the Colosseum, looking for the right passage to knock. The third time was with his Aunt Paris and Asra, who were looking for specific ingredients for the shop. He had talked to Anatole about the artisan, and the history of it, claiming he had already lost his chance to directly acquire it, he was not going to lose it again. He had been there thrice before: once for personal reasons, another with Valerius who wanted a very specific rug which was believed to be in the hands of art thieves, so if it was bound to be anywhere, it was in the Red Market. After trying his luck with one of them who specialised in rare books and first editions and failing, the same bookseller recommended trying his luck at the Red Market.Īnatole didn’t have anything to lose, so he decided to try his luck there. One of the problems Vesuvia had was not all the books Anatole wanted or needed went directly to book purveyors. CW for wrong handling of animals, though no one was hurt in the process.
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