Post #2489427 in Apotheosis of the Condemned, a roleplay on RPG

“No need to apologize Nene,” Virgil said cheerfully, smiling at the comedy of the scene. Ephraim had blinked at her, as though disbelieving that someone could possibly actually fall so dramatically, but he regained his sense of immediacy once she actually hit the ground, and walked over with a sigh, quite literally picking her up and setting her back on the ground. “You did open the door, after all.” His guess was that the vase on was some kind of pressure switch, which activated when it was removed, because the wall had slid to the side, explaining the scuff marks near the edge of it.

“Indeed. Though perhaps next time, you could succeed in solving the problem without putting yourself at risk for breaking something.” Ephraim’s tone was caught between his usual flat one and something gruff, almost grumpy or sullen; Virgil, knowing exactly why, laughed, earning himself a glare from ruby-reds.

“I thought it was adorable,” the fox said, turning back to what the door had actually revealed. It was not a corridor or anything, more like a small storage compartment. Curiously, two things were still inside, artifacts that Virgil recognized. The space in the middle, however, was conspicuously empty. “Oh dear,” he said, a note of genuine concern entering his jovial voice.

Ephraim, approaching from behind, looked over his shoulder and swore in several different languages, including the arcane ones. Figuring he should probably fill in his friend, Virgil shook his head and folded his arms into his sleeves. “These artifacts are part of a triplicate belonging to Himitsukami, the god of Secrets and Mystery. She would not have parted with even one of them willingly. It looks like the thief left the Whisperer and the Lexicon.” He glanced down at the two artifacts still in the case.

“Which means it took the Obscuring Lens.” Ephraim replied, gritting his teeth. It was not a weapon, but it was perhaps more dangerous than any singular damaging object could be in a certain sense. He glanced over at Nerys. “The Lens is an object that allows someone to pass between realms without the use of a Gate, and beneath the sight of even The Arbiter. Whomever has it is a ghost, essentially, able to go where, when, and why they please, without needing the assistance of a Shinigami or even a Hollow Point.” It was hard to say for sure, but he was willing to bet their problems had just gotten a whole lot bigger. Or at least his, as the long arm of the Arbiter.

“Come on; we need to get out of this room; see if there’s anyone around that can tell us what happened. Virgil, take the Lexicon and the Whisperer. At least if we have them we know nobody else does.” Those objects were far less dangerous, but still bad in the wrong hands. He sighed raggedly through his nose, the end of the noise bottoming out into something like a growl, but he suppressed it. Now was the time to investigate, not get angry. They needed to figure out as much about what happened as possible. Leading the way to the door out, Ephraim opened it and stepped through, the others behind him.

Nerys pursed her lips together at Virgil and pursed them further at Ephraim's statement. She hadn't meant to trip, and knock over the vase. It just happened, but at least they found the switch, as Virgil pointed out. She blinked as Ephraim literally lifted her from the floor, and set her back on her feet. She thanked him quietly as Virgil moved to inspect the door that had opened. She blinked when she heard him speak, and tilted her head in confusion when Ephraim seemed to speak in different languages. She wasn't aware what they meant, but judging by his tone, it couldn't be good. And it was made clear why. The object that was stolen was an important artifact, one that rendered its holder practically invisible to the Arbiter. But who could want such an object? She allowed her eyes to fall before quickly glancing back up.

She followed behind Virgil as they exited the room, her eyes glancing around to inspect the home. It was large, obviously so. It belonged to a Goddess after all, however; as they continued down the hall, it appeared as if there was no one around. Odd, the place looked well-kept, and had a Goddess not lived here not more than a moment ago? Shouldn't there be servants, or others of such-like statuses in the place? She traveled a bit aways from the two males, opening doors and sliding cabinets open. She sighed softly as she pursed her lips together, raising a brow as she continued her search. There had to be someone around, right? She stooped lowly, opening a lower cabinet and peered inside.

"We came out of a wardrobe, wouldn't there be other things like it?" she muttered to herself, closing the cabinet door and turned towards the two Solomon brothers. "Where did all the people go?" she muttered, frowning slightly. There had to be others around, unless the one responsible for the theivery managed to slay everyone. That...was not a pleasant thought, and it only caused Nerys's frown to deepen. She hoped everyone was still okay, if there were in fact, other people around.

Ephraim blinked, shaking his head when Nerys checked under a cabinet. Her thought made a certain kind of strange sense, for someone without all the information. “Himitsukami was authorized to have an emergency Gate to Ningeno,” he explained. “She was probably attempting to use it when she died, which explains how the Wests found her. She was dying when she reached them, and she simply didn’t survive much past that point. Gods and most of the beings that function as servants of gods do not leave corpses when they die. They simply become light or air or something similar depending on their natures. Even if everyone here were killed, we wouldn’t know, because there would be nothing left behind.” He suspected that was what had happened though—it was far too much of a coincidence to be otherwise.

“And without knowing which ones belong here, it’s hard to identify the intruders and servants by scent,” Virgil added, shaking his head. “Still… we might as well check the grounds. This is a very small realm; if anyone is still here, we should be able to pick up on it from out there.” Ephraim nodded, and the three of them started searching for the exit.

As it turned out, the grounds were so lovely, one might even be able to call them divine. As Himitsukami also happened to be the god of roses—sometimes, a god’s dominions really had nothing to do with one another—the gardens were massive, containing not only the flowers of her essence, but also dozens of other varieties, all awash with the golden glow of the sun. The scents were heady and almost intoxicating for someone with a nose as sensitive as Virgil’s, but he was fairly skilled at not showing it. The paths cut into the sprawling flowerbeds, herb patches, and trees were natural and paved only in dirt and stone, and the sound of running water indicated a fountain or a stream nearby.

“Nothing,” he said with a pursing of the lips, and Ephraim shook his head to indicate that he couldn’t pick up on anyone’s presence either. “Still, I suppose it’s something that we know the Lens was stolen. Himitsukami wasn’t exactly social—it could have been decades before anyone thought to stop in on her and discover what happened.” That got him a nod, but he could tell Ephraim’s mind was wandering.

“Well,” he said, glancing around. “We brought enough supplies for another day. I don’t know about the two of you, but I at least am hungry. We should eat before we do anything else, and where better than here?” they’d searched the castle top-to-bottom, and it had taken them the better part of a day.

Nerys allowed her gaze to falter. If there had been other people here, the person who stole the Lens had to have either been extremely strong, or perhaps, they were the silent and stealth type. How could one person manage that much on their own? Granted, it could have been more than one person, however; the staff might not have all been trained in combat, and it could have only taken one person, or thing, to slay them all. Nerys could not help but feel sad for them. They did not deserve to die like that, or at all. Why couldn't the person have just stolen the object? What need was there to kill everyone? It was times like these that Nerys could still not understand the objective of killing someone just because. She sighed softly through her nose, following the Solomons as they made their way around the castle.

By the time they reached the outside, a few hours had passed. Nerys, however, stood in awe of the realm. To say it was beautiful might have been an understatement, but there were no other words to describe the place. In a way, it almost reminded her of the Kirino realm, however; even with all its purity, the Kirino realm could not hold a flicker of flame to this place. She blinked slowly when Virgil spoke, and her eyes lit up. If he was hungry, and they had extra supplies, she could make something. Would it be rude to use a dead god's kitchen? Perhaps, but then again, she did bring left overs, and if Virgil wanted, they could re-heat and share them. She also brought a few pastries from her bakery, however; they needed more than just sweets.

"Well, I can make something if you'd like! I also brought a few things from the bakery, like," she paused, rummaging through her pack before pulling out two separate dishes, "the strawberry scone and some apple fritters with peanut butter caramel sauce," she concluded, opening the two dishes up and presenting it to Ephraim and Virgil. She smiled before it disappeared with a sudden realization. "But you might want actual food first. If...if you want, I can still make something," she stated, this time a bit lower as she glanced away and fidgeted nervously.

“You go right ahead and do that, Nene,” Virgil said, smiling. “An outdoor meal sounds perfect at the moment. Ephy will even take you to the kitchen so you don’t have to cook alone, won’t you, Ephy?” Virgil grinned at his brother, who glared venomously. Something he saw, however, mollified him somewhat, and he sighed his resignation and nodded, gesturing for Nerys to follow him.

Virgil remained in the garden for a while, glad that his brother had interpreted his meaning correctly, and his mouth pulled down into a frown. Something about this place hit him with a sense of nostalgia, for things that had been a long time ago, and things that might have become but never were. It was difficult for even him to continue smiling under such circumstances, and he would not frown in front of other people. Not for such reasons as these. As far as almost anyone knew, Virgil had all the depth of a dry puddle, and he was fine with people believing this. It kept things simpler, and there were certain aspects of his life in which he had never enjoyed depth or complication particularly.

Both, unfortunately, had found him, and fooled the fox himself into believing they were as idle and frivolous as the rest. Golden eyes lost their focus for a moment, and he resigned himself to the building ache inside his chest. It was part misery, but also part compulsion. The instinctive need to seek, to find, to possess. A rather ugly part of himself, all things considered, but then when it came right down to it, most of what was under his skin was ugly. He knew it was his fault, that she’d gone. Just like it was his fault his sister had been murdered, in the end. His touch had a way of poisoning things; intellectually, he knew it was better that she’d gone.

But it was still an action taken too late to help him any.

“Just my luck,” he murmured, something dark and bitter creeping into his tone. Five hundred and odd years of living, and he’d avoided this problem. Leave it to her to take a year and a half to undo so much of it. He was never one to linger on a lover, and yet, the memory of her was so keen he could still see the rare smile on her face, such a little expression, but precious for its infrequency. He could hear the flat tone she used to chide him, the way it changed so utterly when she was breathless beneath him. He could smell her, laced in with the roses, as though she were standing right behind him. Nothing had chased her taste from his tongue since that day.

He hated her for that, just a little. His life might not have been what most would consider good before her, but he had been content in it. Now he was only despondent. Reaching over to a rosebush, he ran a finger along the petals of the nearest, an impossible blue one. The texture reminded him of—

His eyes narrowed. Would this never cease? Still… he reached over, cutting the stem of the thing with his claws, bringing the flower to his nose. Lowering it slightly, he chuckled mirthlessly, cursing his fortunes. A rose by any other name would smell as sweet, a man had said once.

Apparently, a rose by any name at all would still smell like Keira.

Snippet #2489427

located in The Wheel of Life, a part of Apotheosis of the Condemned, one of the many universes on RPG.

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