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The Reaper Finds a Golden Flower – Part 01

Winter, 1922.

The setting sun cast dark shadows on the curtained windows of the ancient castle.

The pale moon rising in the western sky made the huge stone structure—the de Blois family’s towering spires, the windows, the extravagant entryway—stand out like a huge woodblock print of black and white.

Winters in Western Europe were cold. Especially in an old stone castle that had stood since the Middle Ages, tucked away deep in the woods.

The gardens surrounding the castle, beautifully trimmed by skilled gardeners brought in from the capital Saubreme, was merely a shadow of its former self in the cold season. Dreary twilight blanketed the copper-colored beech branches and rose saplings shivering anxiously under the snow.

Encroaching darkness, and the chill of winter…

---

A group of servants—young maids in blue-and-white uniforms, a tall elderly butler, a young male servant in a stylish uniform, a female cook of large build—from all over the castle fell in outside, their hands clasped together in front of their chests, huddled close in fear. They were all staring up at a particular spot.

Castle de Blois. In its corner stood a long, narrow, sinister tower. There were many legends revolving the ancient castle, and the tower in particular, was said to have been the stage for many a tragedies and conspiracies during the warring period in the Middle Ages.

Everyone was watching the tower with bated breath and stiff faces.

At this very moment, something was being slowly taken out and loaded onto a large carriage waiting below.

It was square, like a cage.

No, it was a cage.

Covered in a Persian-style cloth, its color a mixture of cream and green, it was slowly lowered from the top of the tower. There seemed to be a beast inside; growls came from within every now and then.

A snowy wind blew past.

The cage rattled.

Terrified, the crowd of servants took a step back.

A beast’s mournful cry echoed through the air.

It was coming from the cage. With every gust of the wintry wind, the animal in the cage, hidden by the Persian cloth, howled in sorrow and pain into the night sky.

One maid, a young girl with red cheeks, was about to run to the rocking cage, but a large, older cleaning woman held her back.

“Stop,” the woman said. “She’s no longer your problem.”

“But…”

“It’s over.” Her big, plump body swayed.

The old butler approached with a wrinkly frown. “Don’t do anything stupid. It will be gone soon.”

“But…”

“That beast will be gone, and peace will return to this place.”

The other servants all nodded. The maid looked at the cage, tears in her eyes.

The cage had just been lowered into the back of the large black carriage. Scared perhaps by the vibrations, whatever was inside went silent.

The driver, his face stiff, nodded.

He cracked his black whip. The ominous black horses whinnied shrilly, rearing in surprise, and took off along the graveled road.

The large black carriage, carrying an ominous cage wrapped in Persian cloth, drove away from Castle de Blois into the forest.

The servants all breathed a sigh of relief. One by one they left the yard and returned to their posts. The cleaning lady tapped the maid on the shoulder before walking off.

“Why?” the young girl muttered, all alone.

Slowly she walked, back to her new post. She had a new job starting tonight. She needed to learn the ropes. There was no time for sentimentality. She had a young brother and sister to support. She had to work.

“But…”

She stopped, and looked up at the long, now-empty sinister tower.

Her days of carrying three things up to that room at the top of the tower were over.

“That Gray Wolf was human,” she mumbled as she walked away.

A biting wind blew.

Powdery snow fluttered, drowning out the girl’s voice.

“A terrifying human being.”

---

One winter morning.

St. Marguerite Academy.

It was the morning after the night when the sinister cage was loaded on a carriage, back in the chilly garden of Castle de Blois, surrounded by a dark forest since the Middle Ages, and taken away into the woods.

St. Marguerite Academy, too, had remained unchanged since the Middle Ages, a spacious, old and prestigious school for the children of nobility, nestled in the gentle slopes of the mountains, near a village at the foot of the Alps. On this particular morning, a young teacher was sitting nervously, having welcomed an unusual guest.

On the first floor of the U-shaped school building, in a guest room decorated with luxurious furnishings for aristocrats, located furthest from the windows, a middle-aged man was sitting in a luxurious, delicate chair carved with scroll leaves, while a young woman sat in a plain staff chair. They were facing each other in silence.

The woman wore huge round glasses over her large, brown droopy eyes. Shoulder-length, dark-brown hair framed a baby face that could get her mistaken as a student.

The female teacher’s name was Cecile. She was a student at this academy a few years ago. Although young and inexperienced, she was quite popular among the students.

For a while now, she had been staring wide-eyed in fear at the most sinister and beautiful man she had ever seen sitting in the corner of the room, dark despite it being morning.

Sitting on the intricate chair was a nobleman, his glittering golden hair tied back like a horse’s tail, wearing a tunic and tight-fitting riding trousers. He was holding a riding whip in his hand. Marquis de Blois. He lived up to his reputation. A mysterious and fearsome man regarded as the most powerful and influential politician among the nobility, said to have played a major role in the last Great War.

Marquis de Blois wore a strong monocle over his right eye that ruined his extraordinary features. Oddly-shaped, it was adorned with several silver ornaments. The thick lens magnified his sinister green eyes bizarrely, eyes that seemed to loom over Cecile like a ghost as she sat there, too frightened to speak.

The distinguished and wicked man eventually opened his mouth. “Young lady.” His magnified eye narrowed slightly.

“S-Sir,” Cecile replied nervously.

“Have you ever owned an animal before?”

“An animal, sir?” Cecile dug through the memories of her younger days. “Um, I had a dog, a bird, and a snake I picked up. The last one my dad told me to throw away because my mom fainted. And a cat too. And then…” She started counting off her fingers.

“Good enough,” an annoyed voice cut her off.

“Huh?”

“I need you to take care of a wolf.”

Cecile looked puzzled. “A-A wolf?”

Marquis de Blois chuckled. “Yes.” The green eyes behind his glasses suddenly widened. “A tiny, tiny Gray Wolf.” He pointed to the papers in Cecile’s hand. “I’m talking about the girl.”

Cecile’s breath caught, and she looked at the papers.

It was a new student’s documents that had arrived last night. She had already read it, of course. It contained a detailed description of a twelve-year-old girl, Marquis de Blois’ illegitimate child. The youngest child of the Blois family, Victorique de Blois. She had apparently never attended school before, which wasn’t unusual for the children of the aristocracy, who were often educated by a full-time tutor.

The problem was she was brought in last night, so no one had seen the girl yet. No pictures were included with the documents either. Cecile wondered what kind of a girl she was.

“You can only carry a joke too far, sir,” Cecile protested.

Marquis de Blois’s eyes narrowed in surprise. “What did you say?”

“You can’t speak of your daughter as if she were an animal. It’s not nice.” She sounded indignant.

“Oh?” The Marquis snickered, and stood up. “I don’t care what you think.” He was oozing a peculiar and ominous aura that pulled Cecile out of her seat and caused her to retreat in fright.

The Marquis grinned. He brought his face close to Cecile’s. “You work as a professional now, but you were once the daughter of a nobleman. That is why I decided to have you take care of her. My daughter is a beast. A legendary beast. If you value your life, do not defy me.”

“Y-You can’t threaten me—”

“Make no mistake. It is not my wrath that will shorten your life. My daughter is a beast. If you don’t want your throat ripped out, don’t do anything foolish. Provide her the minimal care she needs and keep a safe distance from her.”

“Wh-What?”

“Stay away from that thing. And don’t let anyone near it. It’s dangerous. Listen.”

Marquis de Blois’ eyes narrowed in fear. But his thin, pale lips were smiling, as if he were having a good time.

“The beasts are howling!”

It was a nice, sunny winter morning, but the sky was growing darker and darker. Somewhere, a dog was whimpering anxiously. Birds all took off at once, as if startled by something, their wings flapping ominously.

“They’ve noticed its arrival.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?”

“Her. The beast. Yes, and like these animals this morning, it will be a long time before the world notices its existence. And then like a flock of frightened birds, those stupid people from the New World will fly away from Europe!”

“S-Sir?” Cecile was watching him in terror.

The guest room regained its silence. Coming back to his senses, the Marquis cast his gaze down. Then he brought his beautiful, ashen face close to Cecile’s round glasses.

“There are three things she must never run out of. When she was in the tower, I had a maid deliver them to her. But from today onwards, that will be your job.”

“Wh-What three things?”

“The first one…” Marquis narrowed his eyes.

Birds took off somewhere. It was a strange morning, as if all the animals in the school were running away, as though nature itself was in an uproar.

“The first one is books,” the Marquis whispered.