"Amandine, Angelique... Danette, Diana... Emmy... Fifi, Fleuretta... Hélène... Jeanette, Joëlle... Laurette, Lianne, Nathalie, Neva, Pénélope, Roxane, Sabine, Sylvie, Viviane, Zoé—" Josephine's fingers trembled, gripping the last page of Volume seventy-six of the book of Nom. Seventy-six volumes; yet not a single familiar name.

I can't find our names. Her eyes were close to tearing up. We're not here. We're not here. We're... we're... truly—

—Nameless.

"How long does your memory last for?" Josette calmly asked from the other end of the dusty room, filled with the smell of old, crinkly papers and delicacies eaten whilst reading. She was Josephine's partner-in-crime; the true mastermind behind this quest they had independently decided to undertake without telling Father.

Punishment awaited them.

Both knew this. Yet, finding out their Magical Affinity held more weight.

If they had Magique, they could finally be free. Living among the common folks in the streets and chatting with friends, they'd no longer be Nameless – mistreated worse than slaves brought from South Africa due to their skin color for crimes they didn't even commit.

But if they didn't find any valuable information... perhaps death would be a punishment too merciful.

"Two to three days, at least." Josephine tried speaking with a level voice. She gulped before continuing, "Thereafter, it becomes hazy."

"Good job. That should be enough time to infiltrate Paris."

At the spur of the moment, absolutely no objection came to Josephine's mind.

Because they'd be killed anyways.

She could already see how the events would flash by. Father's disappointment in them. Father's love for them. Father's tears for them.

Father's laughter of glee upon receiving compensation money for the sacrifice of both of his Daughters to the Lord. Maybe even a raise in adoption tax.

Perhaps he'd feed the skinny children being experimented on some meat when he gets the money in hand. Certainly, the Commoner Faction would refuse to comply with a rise in tax, but they'd just be a slight nuisance to be flogged to death.

Josephine was terrified. She tried to come in terms with her Reality – certainly death cannot be more painful than the daily life of torment and harassment she led.

...Certainly.

"I found twenty-two entries of the name 'Josephine'," Josephine murmured after a slight pause, still not accepting death as an option. "Can we—"

Even if it was torturous, she wanted to live.

"Holy names cannot be faked, duplicated, or impersonated. So, if you're thinking of staging as another Josephine, it's not going to work out." Josette continued reading some other Volume of Nom. "My name's not even there. It's all 'Cosette', not a single 'Josette'. What a pity."

Josephine looked up to Josette for the longest time. Josette is one of those rare girls adopted after she was already seven – in an orphanage where everyone was brought in right after birth, in case both their parents somehow died before naming the child.

Josette helped in experimentation. She was said to have one of the most efficient regeneration powers and exceptional craving for knowledge. Perhaps her fate was written in tragedy because someone like her deserved to be in the Aristocratic Faction.

Nobody knew how Josette ended up as a Nameless.

"We should run away." Josephine pushed her suggestion further. "They wouldn't have taken the pain of having remember our faces; and we have no portraits made either. I recall the angle and the order in which the books were kept vividly. I am certain I can replicate the atmosphere before our onset."

"It's the Goddess' Birthday today," Josette inserted. "Though we are not present in the Birthday Banquet meant only for the Clergy and Aristocracy—" Josette's soft blue eyes gleamed in silent satisfaction. "—surely we cannot leave without giving her a birthday present."

Josette always seemed as if she was otherworldly – all-knowing and experienced, her courage unparalleled, her motives unknown. But deep down somewhere, Josephine knew Josette was raging for revenge – perhaps against her parents for not being there for her; perhaps at Father for forcing her to live in shackles in the Church; perhaps at the Goddess Herself.

She sought out for revenge: digesting endless amounts of knowledge from books, training herself tirelessly, and regenerating without pause.

She had never looked at Josephine before; contemplating infiltration into the Holy Palace – guarded by six hundred guards – all by herself on the night of the Goddess' Birthday Banquet celebrated under a particular star, the Etoile, the birth star that had destined Diane Apolline as the savior who'd relinquish the flames of war in Heaven and save the Earth from the previous Reign of Terror.

"We have Magique. I can guarantee its presence even in the cores of the Nameless," Josette put down the book – Volume eighty of Nom... containing all the names of males who held Magique. "Ordinary folk – look at them, dear Jose. You see them roaming the world, conquering, constantly at war: fighting, screaming, and existing. And now you look at us, the Nameless – we can regenerate, we have eidetic memory, we can behead people easily. They say we're monsters, not even blessed by the Gods – all-forgiving and loving – but, we're also human."

Josephine truly believed Josette's words. It was true, their unrestricted powers. About ten to twelve per cent of the population – the Nameless – were always kept in restraints and tortured without end; and no one even dared to question, even once, why it was so: neither the Nameless, nor the Factions, nor the Gods.

But when little Josephine probed this apparent fact that was set in stone for years, she caught Josette's attention.

To those who deserve it, knowledge shalt be provided. Your curiosity – I like it very much. I shall do my best to vanquish some of your queries. But be aware, I, myself, am— Nine-year-old Josette's face had fallen a bit here.

—I, myself, am a Nameless, she went on to admit, burying her past behind along with her Mother's remains into the earth. I have limited knowledge acquired from Commoners' stolen books.

Josephine learnt to read and write only from Josette – and perhaps Josephine had mistaken their relationship to be friendship previously. Josette used her as she pleased, equivalently rewarding the successful acts alongside – a puppet to work with, one might say – but in time, Josephine became rather accepting to Josette's superiority, and she quite enjoyed Josette's leadership and non-bossy nature.

Josephine knew Josette was simply training her then for the big day – today – and would probably throw her away shortly. But what if Josephine didn't let go?

"Is this a fail, then?" Josephine asked grimly about the status of their mission. It didn't work out, did it? They didn't find their names or any ray of hope. And they were going to be sacrificed to the Goddess for daring to investigate the Holy Names.

The Holy Names capable of depriving their owners of Magique; the Holy Names capable of turning an Ordinary person into a Nameless. Truly powerful were the names chosen by birthparents, thus everyone in the World used Aliases that replaced their true names – the incantation that powered their Magique.

It was quite unfortunate that the very parents who lovingly brought their offspring to the World were killed by their own, for they knew the weakest point of their own children having picked their Holy Name – popularly referred to as Nom – themselves.

Betrayal is what it should have been called – except the parents themselves had killed the previous generation, fully aware of the suicidal risk they were taking.

Parents' love is incomparable, yet so twisted that some even abandon their children in fear – for the Goddess didn't allow feticide – and those children were to be picked up by the Church to keep the Nameless blood flowing.

"Not at all, my dear. I must say it has been more successful than every other mission we have partaken in." Josette smiled, bringing the stiches on her slit mouth that she wouldn't regenerate into full view. "Something came to my notice during this expedition, a very important clue. And you know it in some form or the other as well. Tell me, Jose, if you could define our lovely mortal-immortal Goddess in any quote I have taught you thus far, what would you chose?"

Josephine didn't understand the connection between the search of Names and the origins of the Goddess, but from her tone, Josephine was well-aware that Josette had something to do with 'Goddess' and 'Names'.

Diane was the last mortal individual who took birth under the Etoile – rather, no women could deliver on this holy day. Hence, Diane's tyranny wouldn't be ending anytime soon, especially given how people didn't even realize being enslaved by their mighty Goddess.

Revolution was simply a lost cause that the Nameless never dared to bring it up.

Josephine heard the footsteps rushing inside. They, the six hundred guards stationed in watch, had been notified of their prolonged presence in the Holy Palace – two girls none remembered, due to their simple faces wearing plain-looking clothes, had claimed to be summoned by the Church, but they never came out!

"Take your time," Josette assured. "The clue is that the Goddess is a woman from Earth, who had never suffered, this beautiful dancer from Lyon."

Josephine was quite acquainted with Josette's way of stressing on keywords, and she immediately found out the answer: in an Era more savage than the current, where women were treated worse than animals – how could such a female exist, who had been rightfully treated as the fragile flower she was?

Of course, it could all be the effect of the Etoile and its Prophecy – all records manhandled and burned somehow – and Diane, being viewed as the protector of Mankind, must have been well-treated. Dance fit in perfectly, a luxury only Aristocrats enjoyed – perhaps Diane was an Aristocrat herself; such a pity historical records didn't survive. However, it was common knowledge that, in her time, there existed no Nameless, just orphans and slaves.

It was the Goddess who enabled Mankind to truly open their eyes and identify the scum in the Society, Magique-less and filthy, the Nameless.

And, as if to rub salt into the wound, the Nameless were deliberately raised in a Church, praying to Diane Apolline three times a day.

How beautifully Declaration of the Rights of the Man and of the Citizen of 1789 was debunked with just the flick of the Goddess' finger.

How gracefully Birthright was snatched from the Nameless for daring to come into this clean, clean Universe with their filthy, filthy blood.

How dreadfully the World once again fell for pretty people and deceptive words – right into the trap of surreal slavery in ways unbeknownst to man.

Certainly, the Goddess spread love and equality, no? So fair and kind, she embraced all flaws of the mortals and cherished them greatly, yes?

Though quite doubtful, she trusted herself to speak her thoughts aloud. "...You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain."

"Exactly. Growing older, either the Goddess forgot that or..." Josette licked her lips, enjoying the moment's silence and finally revealing her triumph fact: "Or she willed it to happen."

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= 1911 words

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