[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/170820/ff812e1f81c3bee753581f6d18e93fde.png[/img]

~ [i]After Party ~
21 Units Remaining
Location: Deacon Arms Tavern[/i] [/center]

How... long had it been since the battle, again? Olympia wasn't quite sure. She lay sullenly on her bed, flipping aimlessly through the copious pages of her Mystic Code, briefly skimming the words each contained. It wasn't [i]merely[/i] a magical tome; inside was a complete story, as written by somebody or another but never fully published. She was thankful for that, but more so thankful for the book itself, which had assisted her many an occasion within her education, providing she wasn't simply some third rate nobody without any good magical aptitude. If she had been born to different circumstances, maybe she would have been a great Mage - intelligent, talented, and powerful - like Marcus. 

Why was she alive? What purpose did her existence hold in the mess of reality, so stricken with the endless cycle of pain and torment to really explain to its protege's what exactly they were meant for? In a short answer, she existed to further her brother - to give up a bright and prosperous future as a Mage of the Whitehall family so that her brother could become the most successful Rune Mage to ever exist. But she couldn't accept that. It made her sick to think that her family could knowingly and willingly partake in such a vile practice. 

Using their own children as stepping stones? In Olympia's head, it sounded like a sick joke. To think, people truly existed who would exploit the young of the world for their own success, who would step on the vulnerable in search of their own goals. But it wasn't like she didn't know people like that could exist. After all... Ayondale was one such man; a detestable psychopath, steeped in the blood of hundreds  in pursuit of nothing but selfish interest and personal satisfaction. His hands were soaked in the life essence of countless, she was sure.

The truth was she was scared. Lying there on a bed provided in part by one of the other members, in the ash and ruin of their short held victory against their pasts and futures alike. What was the point of the mission any more? In the final moments before she, accompanied by Morgana and Sonja, she had caught glimpse of the battle as it raged. Ayondale's Servant had been killed, and in the joy all had felt at the accomplishment returned to life not minutes later, wreaking havoc upon their forces that were, until that moment, considered a match for anything the Professor could throw at them.

In that singular moment, Olympia felt utterly defeated, and that emotion had pervaded up to and until the present. On the way to the Tavern, she felt utterly dejected. She had even abandoned her Servant to do battle, despite being physically the weakest of every Servant summoned. In short... She was a failure of a Master. Within the confines of her guilt and sadness, she couldn't help but wonder whether she was worthy of the Command Seals tattooed onto her hand. Just because the Grail chose her... Why did the Grail have to choose [i]her[/i] of all people, of the hundreds of students who wore their grudges against the teacher like warpaint. The logic of it baffled her the more she thought in depth about it. Without a doubt, she was the weakest of the Masters, both Magically and mentally; she had no Magical Crest, and was shy, lacking confidence in what minor abilities she did possess, and was driven to her heels with fear at the sight of her once and former Professor.

The only thing she could, with any semblance of genuine belief, consider powerful within her arsenal was her Eyes. Mystic Eyes of Flame... A completely combat oriented set of Eyes, who's sole purpose seemed to be to cause as much damage as physically possible. Was that what she wanted? Did her existence as a tool for others make her want to destroy the things around her, to hurt people, to break what shackles constrained her and escape out of her futile reality to further and greater heights? She couldn't help but wonder if those heights were attainable, even if she were free. And...

Freedom would mean she would have to hurt people. Mentally, and physically. She would have to [i]kill[/i] people to get what she wanted. The thought turned her stomach sour, and forced her hand over her mouth to stop her from retching atop the bed. Stepping on people, murdering them, no matter their right nor wrong doings against her... That would make her no different from Arieh, the man she so despised.  If freedom meant becoming like him, regardless of how different they truly were, she would rather give her life to servitude. A voice in her head said that was why she was used and abused as she was, like a pickaxe or shovel, made to be utilised until it shattered, then replaced with another identical, if not better version. 

Olympia Whitehall had always let others do what they wanted; it wasn't like she had the power to stop them. She had joined the war because she hated that. Was that the reason? Involuntarily she clenched her fist tightly into a ball against her chest, and her body up into itself, chilled by the existential depression that had set upon its owner. Everything that had happened in the past twenty four hours... In truth, she no longer wanted any part of it. But she couldn't just turn her back on everyone now. There were people counting on her; people, her friends, who needed all the help they could get if they wanted to have any hope of winning in the battle against Ayondale. 

Without realising it, she had started crying. She choked up a slight laugh at her situation, looking around the room as she pushed her way up into a sitting position. Even if she considered herself an incompetent Mage, and an abysmal Master, she wasn't utterly and entirely useless. She had abandoned her Servant, but she would never forget about him, not even in the chaos and despair of the battlefield Ayondale had created. 

While she was still hazy on how Servants worked exactly, Oly knew enough as to where she could use them effectively enough. [i][colour=LimeGreen]"Daedalus? Sorry, uh... Caster. I've already escaped. Please, as soon as you can, get out of the fight and meet join everyone at the Deacon Arms Tavern. Or... just come find me? I don't remember how Servants work properly. Sorry..."[/colour][/i] was the message she sent to him, moments before the three girls left the castle entirely. Whether or not he had actually arrived yet, she wasn't sure. 

She stood from her bed, and stepped into the bathroom, looking over her tired expression in the mirror. Her hand reached for the tap, and twisted it until water began to flow from the nozzle onto her waiting left hand, which curled into a scoop to collect it. Her other hand joined it, and together they lifted to her face, dousing it in cold water, immediately releasing a chill down her spine and along her arms. She wiped at her eyes, cleaning away the dirt from the fight and the sleep from her short nap. There wasn't much she could do about the dark circles that had since formed, but they would fade soon enough after she got some actual rest.

From there Olympia dried her face, and exited her room into the rest of the tavern. It was a nice place, not that she had been inside many, and she couldn't complain about the facilities; not after the hell they had all just been through. She made her way into the main area, where some of the others had congregated. No doubt Albert would want to have another pep talk with the group, and if it where to be located anywhere it would be there. She took a table, and sat, something of a ways from the others, as to escape from any needless chatter. Not that she didn't want to talk; in truth, she did, but whether it was the right time or not was beyond her. 

Sat and comfortable in her seat, she sent a message to Caster. It wasn't much of a message, though, more of a signal, indicating her location in case he didn't know otherwise. If there was anyone she felt comfortable with talking to at the moment, it would be Daedalus; they were Master and Caster, and they shared a Contract. Plus, she needed to get to know him better. Maybe it was foolish to get too attached... Chances were he'd be killed anyway, but she didn't want to think about that eventuality. There had been too much death already for her...

[center][@Shadow Daedalus][/center]