Edgar Family Butler Ishmael/Identity Story

Speaker	Dialogue

	The Edgar Manor, wreathed in the ambient sunlight, is full of sounds of brooms and Butler boots moving about its premises.
	Butlers of the Edgar Family are busy with their last-minute deep cleaning of the manor before the wolven hunt.
	Brooms brushing against the floor. Dishes clattering against one another. Loud, bustling footsteps.
	The child is quietly and impassively dusting the window frames amidst that clamor.
Edgar Family Ishmael	Come on, let's try not to neglect these out-of-the-way corners.
	The child would normally have quietly taken care of it herself without telling anyone, but…
	… now that they're all busily preparing for the hunt, she decided to give them a warning to avoid drawing the ire of her Master or the Chief Butler.
	It may have sounded a tad nosy, but… it was her own way of caring for the other Butlers.
Edgar Family Ishmael	Even a pinch of dust particles could be dangerous for our Master, you know.
Edgar Family Butler Colleague	S-sorry. I'll be more careful from now on.
Edgar Family Ishmael	C'mon. The hunt's coming up, so let's keep ourselves in tip-top shape, alright?
	Of course, she wasn't just worried for her fellow Butlers.
	It was clear from the way she spoke that she cared terribly for her Master.
	Perhaps that was an obvious outcome.
	The child used to be a Fixer drifting through the Backstreets. And she wandered for a long, long time, unable to find her purpose in life.
	The Edgar Family took her in, gave her a roof over her head, and gave her a definite purpose to live for.
	Perhaps that is why…
	… the child does not tell the Chief Butler whenever the other child—her Master—indulges in alcoholic drinks.
	That is why the child does not even dare open the window when her Master is home—for fear of letting chill winds into the manor.
	Her devotion to her Master almost appears like a blind obsession.
Edgar Family Butler Colleague	Do you think Master would've been… less ill, had he not been hunting for the wolf?
Edgar Family Ishmael	I doubt it. Master had already lost his arm and Miss Isabella even before the hunt started.
Edgar Family Butler Colleague	Yeah, but…
Edgar Family Ishmael	Besides, it doesn't matter whether our Master gives up his hunt or not. Because that wolf won't.
Edgar Family Ishmael	… He won't stop until he's taken everything that our Master has.
Edgar Family Ishmael	... Oh, speaking of which, didn't that wolf love... uh, um...
Edgar Family Butler Colleague	Huh? Love? What are you talking about?
Edgar Family Ishmael	… Uh, what was it again…? Haah, it's nothing. Sorry, I have no idea where that came from.
	There was a large hole where that child once stood. The child who was likely the cause of all this misery.
	This child grew puzzled as she suddenly felt the fog of memory from this casual conversation.
	But she ignored this odd sense of déjà-vu.
	It would be much more reasonable for her to focus on the hunt rather than to get hung up on such details.
Edgar Family Ishmael	Is it already time…?
	The sun hangs over the horizon.
	The terrible wailings of those pulled from the other side begin to echo from nearby.
	The great rumbling begins to intensify within the halls of the manor.
	Past the window were the forces of the dead, wreathed under the orange light of the eventide, swarming up toward the manor.
Edgar Family Gregor	Even as I remain awake does that endless nightmare seek to claim me…
Chief Butler Ryōshū	They're nothing but weaklings. An advance party… I see. The wolf caught wind of our hunt, I suppose.
	The other child—her Master—draws his sabre and readies himself. But the child shakes her head.

Edgar Family Ishmael	Master. Lady Ryōshū. Leave them to me.
Chief Butler Ryōshū	D.B.S.^[1] Me and this fool of a Master can take them out in the blink of an eye.
	The child waits until the warm light of the eventide, the color of her hair, reflects off the floorboards of the manor's hallway. She looks into the eyes of the Chief Butler and her Master.
Edgar Family Ishmael	The two of you have a wolf to hunt.
Edgar Family Ishmael	Don't let the dead waste your energy.
Edgar Family Gregor	…….
	Perhaps the two believed that this child's words had merit.
	Her Master lowers his sabre. The Chief Butler grumbles for a moment before sheathing her knives and crossing her arms.
	Only then does the child pull an oddly engraved broom and a sharp knife from the dimensional attache case issued to Butlers.
Edgar Family Ishmael	… Hunting cutlery's at the ready.
Chief Butler Ryōshū	… Tsk. Don't get yourself killed like an idiot.
	The child lives up to her confidence.
	The well-sharpened knife cuts through the army of the dead like butter…
	… and the generations-old broom of the Edgar Family Butlers keeps her enemies at bay.
	She routed the forces of the dead with every knife throw and broom swing, handily knocking them down like she was dusting a particularly stubborn corner.
	The advance force that assailed the manor is already looking rather thin; the intense light of the sunset shines through the windows still.
	Doesn't seem like housekeeping will cause them to run late to the hunt.