Our past and our future. (Scaramouche fanfic)

Promotion.

After working for the Fatui for months and climbing the ranks, you finally got promoted as the tenth harbinger.

There you were, standing in the middle of the room. Infront of the Tsaritsa and her harbinger's, They seemed to be scrutinizing you, looking down on you.

You didn't back down nor cower, a harbinger is no coward. They are figures with powerful authority, thus you should act like it.

A stoic, unmoving expression was etched onto your face as your promotion and official title was announced, none other by the Jester, Pierro.

"A new member has been added to our ranks, and we are glad to welcome Y/n into the ranks of the Eleven Fatui Harbingers. Y/n is now officially, the tenth harbinger, and her title is 'The Alchemist'."

A faint sigh of relief slipped past your mouth, the tension was unbearable. You then raised your head, trying to appear firm and resolved.

So, this is how it was getting promoted? You didn't expect it to be so..tense.

The Tsaritsa smiled faintly, watching you get promoted from her throne. If it was the Tsaritsa who picked you to be a harbinger, then surely she had a reason why.

Her Majesty, The one and only Tsaritsa held a banquet just for your promotion.

All of the harbinger's were sitting in their respectful seats, you were seated in your own seat. To your left there was Dottore, The Doctor. And to your right there was Scaramouche, The Balladeer.

As you were eating, you realized how the atmosphere was thick with tension. They were all trying their best to be as cordial as possible, but it was obvious they wanted nothing more than to be at each other's throats.

The Balladeer and The Doctor looked amused, You, were minding your own business. You leaned back in your seat, crossing your legs and relishing a sip of wine from your wine glass.