Y/n Pov

The morning sun cast a warm glow over the cobbled streets of Vriacsea as Irene and I strolled towards August's home. The town buzzed with activity, vendors hawking their wares and children playing nearby. I paused at a pastry stall, the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked goods wafting through the air. I bought a variety of pastries, handing one to Irene, who took a bite and hummed in delight. I'v never seen her without a snack in her hand, the rare occasions she didn't eat were usualy on fights, with exception of that one bar brawl two years ago.

"Last night, I saw something strange," Irene said between bites, her eyes scanning the rooftops of the quaint town. "I believe it was a person jumping from roof to roof, grabbing onto the side of a wall, and climbing up on it."

I looked at her, puzzled. "Did you take anything that makes you hallucinate?"

She shot me a baffled look. "What? No!"

"Maybe the pastries you've eaten are filled with Brandish's special plant," I teased, smirking.

Irene's eyes widened in offense, and she punched me lightly on the arm, pouting. "That's not funny."

Our playful banter was interrupted by a murmur that grew into a cacophony of voices, snippets of conversation reaching our ears. We heard mentions of someone being assassinated in their sleep the previous night. Irene and I exchanged confused glances, our playful mood turning serious. "An assassination?" I murmured.

Rose, who had been trailing behind us, tugged at Irene's sleeve. "Do you think it could be related to what you saw?"

Heine and Juliet, immediately pulled out their lacrimas, tapping into them quickly they were both engrossed in the portable lacrimas usualy as our informants, they shook their heads. "We can't find anything in the archive about this," Heine said, her brow furrowed in frustration.

We approached a group of townsfolk, hoping to glean more information. Irene stepped forward, her presence commanding attention. "Excuse me, we're from the Spriggan Twelve," she said, revealing our affiliation and pulling out the necklace.

"We'd like to know some things about this, we just happened to be nearby." She stated resting her hand on her hip. Her eyes scanned the group.

The townspeople exchanged nervous glances but eventually one of them spoke up. "The victim was part of some secret group. We don't know much about it, but there are whispers of dark dealings and hidden agendas."

My eyes narrowed. "A secret group? Do you have any idea who might be behind the assassination?"

The man shook his head. "No, but the town has been uneasy for weeks now. Strange sightings, have been happening. People we've never seen coming and going, they all went to the victims home. It's all very unsettling."

Irene nodded thoughtfully, taking in the information. "Thank you for telling us. We'll look into it."

As we continued our walk towards August's home, the atmosphere felt heavier. The playful banter from earlier was replaced by a sense of urgency and curiosity. I glanced at Irene, who seemed deep in thought. "What do you think?" I asked.

Irene sighed, her expression troubled. "It's too much of a coincidence. We need to figure out what's going on before more people get hurt."

I nodded in agreement, determination settling in my chest. "Let's talk to August. Maybe he can shed some light on this."

We reached August's home, the towering structure casting a long shadow over us. As we stepped inside, the familiar scent of ancient tomes and alchemical concoctions greeted us. August was waiting, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Ah, you two look troubled," he observed. "What brings you here today?"

I took a deep breath, recounting the events of the morning. August listened intently, his expression growing more serious with each word.

"I believe your instincts are correct," August said finally. "This town harbors more secrets than it lets on. We must proceed with caution."

Irene nodded. "We will. But we need to know more about this secret group and what they're after."

If I knew one thing about Irene its that her intuition was usually right. We had to get into the home of that victim one way or another. Even if it meant breaking the law. "Well we will have to break into the victims home I believe." I stated and August looked towards me. "I'm curious how you will justify that in front of the court, Zeref wont get your ass out of jail if you get caught." His voice was calm yet there was a hint of amusement in it. "For now lets stay on the subject of Alchemy, at this point the victims home is likely swarmed by the local guards."

August stroked his beard thoughtfully, his mind still on what we had told him. "I have some contacts who might know more. In the meantime, stay vigilant. And remember, not everything is as it seems."

August stood before me in his study, the room filled with an array of ancient tomes, alchemical tools, and strange, iridescent vials. He pulled a thick, leather-bound book from a nearby shelf, its cover adorned with intricate gold filigree. As he opened it, the pages crackled with age, revealing delicate illustrations and elaborate formulas.

"Alchemy," August began, his voice reverberating with authority, "is the ancient art of transmuting one substance into another. It is far more than the mere manipulation of matter; it is the pursuit of understanding the very essence of existence."

I nodded, absorbing his words. The room seemed to hum with the latent energy of countless experiments and discoveries.

"Some believe," he continued, "that alchemy holds the potential to create life itself. Throughout history, many have attempted to achieve this. Countless experiments have been conducted with the aim of creating living beings, but all have ended in failure. The process is incredibly complex and fraught with challenges."

He paused, looking at me intently. "There is a myth, however, of an ancient alchemist that lived centuries ago who succeeded where others failed. It is said that this alchemist created a living human being from a stone, not through enchantments or spells, but by developing a new form of magic entirely—alchemy magic."

I leaned forward, intrigued. "Alchemy magic?"

"Yes," August affirmed. "Alchemy magic is distinct from the enchantments Irene employs. While enchantments temporarily alter an object's properties, alchemy magic fundamentally changes the object on a permanent basis unless the user consciously reverts it. This form of magic was mentioned only once, briefly, in the archives of Alvarez, and no known users exist today."

He turned the pages of the tome, showing me detailed diagrams and notes. "The principle behind alchemy magic in theory involves understanding the intrinsic nature of the material and manipulating it at a fundamental level. The ancient alchemist purportedly achieved this by developing a deep connection with the essence of the stone, allowing him to transform it into a living being."

I glanced at the illustrations, which depicted complex symbols and equations beyond my comprehension. "So, alchemy isn't just about turning lead into gold?"

August chuckled. "No, that is a common misconception. While transmuting base metals into noble ones is part of alchemy, it is merely a facet of its true potential. The true goal of alchemy is to grasp the underlying principles of the universe and harness them to achieve feats that seem impossible by conventional means."

He lifted a small vial filled with a shimmering liquid. "Modern alchemy, however, is limited. We primarily focus on converting one material into another through various means—chemical reactions, magical infusions, and the like. But the grand aspirations of creating life and achieving true transmutation remain elusive."

As he spoke, I could sense the depth of his passion for the subject. "Alchemy is extremely difficult to master," he continued, "and even more difficult to apply practically. The knowledge has been fragmented over centuries, with many secrets lost to time."

I absorbed his words, realizing the immense potential and profound mysteries that alchemy held. "So, what does this mean for us? How do we use alchemy to our advantage?"

August placed the book back on the shelf and looked at me with a determined expression. "It means we must delve deeper into the ancient texts, uncover lost knowledge, and experiment with new techniques. Alchemy offers possibilities beyond our current understanding, and it is up to us to explore its depths and unlock its secrets."

. . .

As I sat on the balcony of our hotel room, the night was still and quiet, the air cool against my skin. Irene was inside, lounging on the bed with a book. My thoughts were restless, replaying the events of the day, August's cryptic explanations about alchemy, the mysterious assassination, and the potential danger looming over Alvarez. There was nothing more he could really teach me as there wasn't a whole lot, so there was only one thing on my list left to do. The victim.

I glanced back at Irene. "Irene." I called out silently. She looked up from her book, her eyes meeting mine with a curious, slightly weary expression. "Yes?" she prompted.

"I'm going out for a moment. I won't be long," I said quietly, trying not to disturb the peace.

She gave me a doubtful look, narrowing her eyes. "And where exactly are you going?"

I hesitated for a moment, then decided honesty was the best approach. "I'm going to investigate the victim's home. There might be something there that can help us understand what's going on."

Irene's brow furrowed as she closed her book and placed it gently on the nightstand. Leaning over to the side she gave me a slightly annoyed look. The negligee doing little at hidding her features. "Do you really think breaking into the victim's home will yield any useful information?"

I nodded, determination etched in my features. "We know he was a member of an unknown organization. If there's something dangerous out there that threatens Alvarez and its people, I need to find out what it is."

She sighed, clearly conflicted. "Be careful," she said finally, her voice softening. "I don't like this, but I trust you."

I nodded, appreciating her support. There was a slight chance that she would be following me behind but I hoped she would stay in the hotel, the fewer there are around the better it was. As I turned to leave, grasping on the railing something caught my eye—a figure darting across the rooftops, moving with agility and purpose. I immediately knew I had to follow. "What a lucky coincidence."

Leaping off the balcony, I landed silently in the alley below and took off in pursuit. In the corner of my eye I could see Irene standing on the balcony looking at me. The unknown figure diverted from the main street to the smaller roads. The city was a labyrinth of narrow streets and shadowed alleys, but I moved swiftly, keeping the figure in my sights and trying to stay unnoticed. They seemed to be heading towards the outskirts, where the victim's home was located.

Nearing the house, I saw the figure drop down from the rooftops into the backyard and approach the back door. They moved with practiced ease, quickly unlocking the door and slipping inside. I followed, my heart pounding with anticipation.

Inside, the house was eerily quiet. I crept through the darkened rooms, every sense heightened. Suddenly, a glint of metal caught my eye—a throwing knife hurtling towards me. I caught it mid-air, my reflexes honed from years of training.

That's when I had a clear look at my pursuit target. The clothes were unusual to say the least, a hood, covering the face, a mask and a long coat. The figure in the hood turned to face me, their eyes narrowing. "I believe we have the same enemy," I said, trying to defuse the tension. "We should work together." The persons eyes scanned me for a moment, still no words from it.

"I know who you are," they said, their voice low and firm.  I could understand that it was a man in front of me now. "The Death Dragon of Alvarez, number four of the Spriggan Twelve."

I kept my gaze steady. But I was slightly shocked at how he knew me. How did someone know who I was in when I never had mentioned it? Did the news paper from Vistarion publish it? "And who are you?"

"That's not important right now," the hooded figure replied. "Do you know what happened in the southern part of the continent?" His voice was quite cold, with no emotions whatsoever.

I hesitated for a moment, then decided there was no point in hiding it. It would come out sooner or later to anyone. "Irene and I obliterated an entire nation's population and a cult."

The hooded figure seemed amazed but laughed slightly. "Irene... the well-endowed sorceress with a body that could kill. Impressive."

Ignoring the comment that made me slightly angry, I asked, "What do you want?"

"The king was a primary target of our group. He owned an artifact we needed."

"I'm sorry," I said flatly. I had no idea there was something like that in that kingdom.

The hooded figure waved it off. "No need to apologize. You actually did us a favor. We found what we were looking for. Your actions have made our mission decades shorter. I should be thanking you."

The man stopped and turned to face me. "wait you got rid of  an entire cult?" he repeated, a note of incredulity in his voice. "Do you know what kind of power it takes to wipe out a cult like that?, with millions of lunatic followers."

I shrugged. "It was necessary. And quite easy." He gave me a long, assessing look before returning to the search. "The victim was part of a secret organization. If they were involved in anything like that cult, we need to know." A secret organization? "Come with me then." The man stated and moved up the staircase.

We entered the dimly lit study of the victim's home, the man and I moved swiftly and silently, our footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden floorboards. The room was cluttered with books, papers, and various trinkets, all of which could potentially hold the key to understanding the recent assassination.

The hooded figure gestured towards the desk. "You take the left side, I'll handle the right," he whispered.

Nodding, I started opening drawers and flipping through the contents. There were numerous ledgers, correspondence, and personal notes, but nothing that stood out immediately. My fingers worked quickly, shuffling through papers, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

While I was going through letters I noticed a symbol on a piece of parchment—a moon with a skull. My heart skipped a beat. It was the same symbol I had seen in the cultists' book. "I've seen this one already, I stated and showed it to him. He glanced at the symbol and then at me. "You recognize it?"

I nodded. "It's from the same cult we destroyed in the south. This could be the link we need."

The man took the parchement into this hand. "You've destroyed millions from the order of the skull moon." He stated and then I saw a strange glint in his eyes before he got back to searching the room. I kept looking for anything usefull myself.

Across the room, the hooded figure was doing the same, his movements precise and efficient. He pulled out books from the shelves, flipping through their pages rapidly before tossing them aside. As I rifled through another drawer, I came across a small leather-bound journal. The entries detailed secret meetings and referenced a mysterious symbol, a moon with a skull again. Jackpot. I found names and locations in it.

Before I could delve deeper, the hooded figure called out softly. "Over here." He had found a hidden compartment beneath the floorboards, prying it open with a knife. Inside, there was a map, aged and worn, with several locations marked in red ink.

He looked up at me, his eyes glinting with determination. "Meet me at the waterfall in the north tomorrow morning," he instructed. "You can bring your followers."

Before I could respond, he tucked the map into his cloak and leaped out of the window, disappearing into the night. I stood there for a moment, processing the rapid turn of events. The pieces were starting to come together, but there were still many questions left unanswered.

With the journal and the symbol fresh in my mind, I exited the study and made my way back to the hotel. My thoughts were a whirlwind of speculation and anticipation for what tomorrow would bring.

I left the home of the victim through the same exit as the unknown man. Moving swiftly through the streets back towards the hotel, trying to stay hidden as well as I could. As I climbed back onto the balcony and re-entered the room, Irene was waiting, her eyes filled with a mix of relief and exasperation.

"What did you find?" she asked, sitting up and putting her book aside. Patience wasn't known to her so she got up from the bed, barefoot walking to me, her eyes vivid in anticipation.

I pulled out the journal and the parchment, laying them on the small table. "These," I said. "The journal mentions secret meetings, and this symbol... it's connected to the cult."

Irene examined the items closely, her expression growing serious. "We'll need to decode these notes and find out more about this symbol. It might lead us to understand what's really happening here."

3rd person Pov

Y/n stood behind Irene, watching as she examined the papers he had brought her. The dim light of the room cast a soft glow on her figure, highlighting the delicate curves of her body beneath the silky negligee she wore. The fabric clung to her in all the right places, accentuating her graceful form, with thin straps resting gently on her shoulders, leaving her neck and collarbone exposed. The negligee's soft lavender hue contrasted beautifully with her fair skin, and the lace trim added an air of elegance to her already captivating presence.

As she flipped through the papers, Y/n couldn't resist the pull he felt towards her. Slowly, he placed a hand on her waist, his touch light and deliberate, he brushed his fingers up and down, feeling the warmth of her skin through the delicate fabric. Irene tensed slightly at the unexpected contact but didn't pull away. Instead, she turned her head just enough to catch his gaze, her eyes sparkling with a mix of intrigue and something deeper. Seeing his longing gaze she turned to him fully.

"Piccina," Y/n murmured softly, the endearing term slipping from his lips as he tilted her chin up gently with his finger. Irene's eyes widened slightly at the word, a soft laugh escaping her lips.

"You know that language?" she asked, her voice tinged with amusement and surprise. "It was spoken in my kingdom."

Y/n nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against her chin before he leaned down, his breath warm against her lips. The proximity made Irene's heart race, her pulse quickening as she felt his presence envelop her. Unable to resist, she inched closer to him, her hands resting lightly on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her fingers.

Their lips met in a soft, lingering kiss, the initial touch tender but filled with a growing intensity. Irene sighed against his mouth, her body responding to the warmth and the firm yet gentle way he held her. Y/n's hand slid from her waist to her lower back, pulling her closer as their kiss deepened, the connection between them undeniable.

With a subtle push, Y/n guided Irene towards the table, his lips never leaving hers. She allowed herself to be moved, sitting on the edge of the table as he stepped between her legs, the cool wood pressing against the back of her thighs. Irene's hands found their way around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer, her body arching towards him instinctively.

Y/n's hands roamed up her sides, feeling the soft fabric of her negligee beneath his fingers, the lace brushing against his skin. Irene shivered at his touch, the sensation sending a thrill through her. She could feel the desire building between them, the intensity of the moment drawing them in deeper.

They moved together, the table creaking slightly under their combined weight as they explored each other with increasing fervor. Y/n's kisses trailed down her neck, his lips grazing the sensitive skin, making her breath hitch in her throat. Irene tilted her head back, her eyes fluttering shut as she lost herself in the sensations, her body alive with anticipation and yearning. How long could she supress her needs, until it was too much.

As they shifted, Y/n lifted her off the table, carrying her over to the bed. Irene clung to him, her arms wrapped around his neck, her legs around his waist as he laid her down gently. The softness of the bed beneath her contrasted with the firmness of his body above, and she couldn't help but smile as he hovered over her, his gaze filled with both tenderness and desire.

They continued their passionate exchange, the night stretching on as they explored the depths of their connection. Every touch, every kiss, was filled with unspoken emotion, a silent understanding passing between them. It was a moment of vulnerability, of trust, and of something more profound than either had anticipated.

When they finally pulled away, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other as they caught their breath. Irene's cheeks were flushed, her hair tousled, and her negligee slightly askew, but she didn't care. In that moment, all that mattered was the bond they had forged, a connection that went beyond words, beyond anything they had shared before. "I've had a good teacher." Y/n replied late on Irene's statement. She let out an amused chuckle.

Y/n began to pull on Irene's negligee to keep on going what they had started but her hand grasped his. "I'm not going to break our promise." She whispered into his ear and pushed his hand away gently.

"Blocked again by the one you love the most, that sucks."

Y/n perked up again as the voice ringed in his head. "What the hell are you?"  He asked mentaly.

"I'm you and you are me."