Lilith lay sprawled out on the stairs of the palace, unmoving. Oh, she was quite conscious, and she hadn't been harmed too badly, except that she had a rather large gash on her thigh and her right arm had landed in an unfortunate position. Every time she blinked, a searing pain tore through her head, white-hot, and her head rang like there were church bells inside it. How she knew what they sounded like, we'll never know. She didn't even go to church. With her good arm, Lilith shielded her eyes from the sunlight, but she was too weak. She smacked her hand down on the steps, a ripple of frustration running through her. Lilith pushed herself into a sitting position, surveying her surroundings. The Mediaolum was completely trashed- rubble was piled up into a mountain of jagged marble, broken glass sitting like thousands of piercing diamonds. Lilith attempted to lift her limp right arm, but as soon as she did so, a sensation like electricity coursed down her arm, sizzling and slicing at her nerves. "Fuck," she groaned, much to the horror of an elderly woman near her. She saw hurt souls nursing their wounds, or running to find someone. "Find someone..." she thought. Suddenly, the light in her eyes went on. Orpheus. If the Mediaolum was this wrecked, she hated to think about what had happened to Orpheus. She set out at a jog, but urgency pushed her to a sprint.
"Orpheus?" she called out. "Orpheus!" She stopped by anyone who looked as if they might be her beloved Pheesh, searching their faces desperately for the features that she found so dear to her now. Tendrils of Lilith's hair were plastered onto her forehead, and her leg was starting to bleed at an alarming rate. Not that it would really do anything, of course, she wasn't really alive in the first place. "Orpheus Hall, I swear to all that's unholy, if I find your scrawny ass, I'm going to kick you. Hard," she muttered under her breath, running her shaking fingers through her tangled hair. Lilith set out at a brisk pace, her right arm still hanging uselessly at her side. Underneath a tree, she saw a distinctly male, black-haired figure lying down, no sign of (after) life showing. "Oh, no, no, this is not Orpheus, please don't let this be Orpheus!" With great effort, Lilith used her one good arm to halfway turn the body onto its side. Lilith's blue eyes scanned their face anxiously, and then brought her hands up to her face as tears flowed down her cheeks, leaving a slick trail after them. Lilith looked back down at the face one last time, carefully examining every aspect of it. It wasn't Orpheus. Not the brown eyes, which had been open. Not the button nose. Not the full lips. Not the eyebrows. It wasn't him, and that's all that really mattered, wasn't it?
Lilith gently closed the boy's eyelids with her fingers, making him look as if he was asleep. Did he look like this when he had died? Had he looked so peaceful, like he was now? She made a mental note to see if this boy was really dead (again), and if he wasn't, then maybe she'd write him a get well soon card or something. "Or something," she thought to herself. With one last glance at the boy's body (and quite a bit more hope than before, might I add), Lilith took off. "Pheesh!"