Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lutetia City: Merveilleux

Deep within the Fabre abode, several stirred. In unison, three witches rose to their feet, casting furtive glances towards the other two. The first to speak, and the youngest of the three, wore plain clothes unlike the rest.

"What was that?" A simple question, for which Cecile Fabre dreaded many of the possible answers to. She turned to her next eldest, the druid Ylva, who still bore a dress from a recent outing. While the witch of the wilds hesitated to make rash conclusions, there was no mistaking such a thing. There was no other feeling quite like it, instead of pulling and warping the strings of life like she and her associates did, this was no mere use of a soul. This string was cut, and it was snapping back before falling away. Even the more obscene rituals practiced within their inner circle used their resources carefully, opting for recycling verses consumption of fresh ingredients in the matters of spiritual energy. Yet, even then, this waste of energy wasn't simply poor use of magic.

It was consumed.

"Tethys," Ylva turned towards the eldest of the three. A necromancer and blood mage by trade, Tethys Fabre possessed centuries of knowledge beyond most beings, living or otherwise, in Issunar. Perhaps the witch's immense age was the reason why she bore a mask, porcelain and stylized of a woman's face, yet many features were simply thin lines painted upon it. A feathered mantle hung down nearly to her ankles, further obscuring a body already covered head-to-toe. behind the mask extended a pipe whose thin stem must have extended almost as long as her forearm, which the necromancer occasionally gingerly plucked from her mouth for a few seconds before replacing it.

"I felt it," Tethys turned towards Ylva. "Clearly you want to know, and I can venture a guess to it, but an error could be fatal." The mask's eyes, or what would pass for such, confounded the druid. Mystical perception was not uncommon, yet something seemed inherently different about her superior.

Several moments, long and hellishly quiet, passed before Tethys spoke again.

"I will investigate."



Towards the Caer's flank, the shadows coalesced into an abyssal cloud, from which stepped the Fabre elder. The demonspawn could likely recognize her, as the reverse was at least true. The grisly scene before her was all too familiar, from the complete defilement of the victim to the almost-bestial and ravenous form of the large figure. Tethys ventured to speak first, her tone level and unmoved by the scene of carnage.

"If I did not know better, I would have mistaken you for Nito," Fabre plucked the pipe from her lips and let out a wispy trail of smoke that sunk to her feet and swirled about them, as if a protective serpent. Subsequent smoke from her pipe followed suit, lazily pouring from its bulb down to join the slowly rotating mass of ever-darkening vapors.
 
The form turned its head over a hunched shoulder, raven hair stuck to its face by warm, crimson paint. It regarded Fabre with bright eyes, simultaneously curious and aggravated. Nox hated to be interrupted, especially so soon after the kill. It ruined the moment. And tonight...tonight was special. "What do you want, witch?" The words were spat with vile contempt. The city's spell casting community, namely the covens and the various necromancers had earned no points with the Caer of old by sitting idling by while his house was put to the holy torch. While his brothers, sisters, mother, father...children...were slaughtered. He'd move to rise then, slow and deliberate as to not set off any alarms inside the woman's head, dropping a chunk of reaking, wet something as he did so.

The man was a giant, in all ways the word could be used.

Bare of all coverings, save for the dripping pulp of his prey, it was as if he stood composed of marble. Not a flaw, not a crack, perfect if not for the glaring insanity behind those eyes. "And you would do well to not speak his name. My Lord Father's memory is disgraced by merely passing through those lips of yours."
 
Tethys offered a chuckle at the Caer's sudden hostility. Clearly this must have been Nox, though the rather rabid display before her should have probably clued her in earlier. Few of the other Caer, at least of the ones she had met, regarded their late patriarch with as much deific worship as their former attack-dog did. Though, to her knowledge, the family was all but destroyed. If Nox had survived, and in theory others may have as well, Fabre would need to watch this information carefully.

This complicated things, immensely so, and careless mention of this complication could incite panic.

"That hurts. I am sorry for your loss, but the safety of my brothers and sisters came first, which meant we could not intervene," the witch removed her pipe, but did not replace it right away. "I am here, because of what I can only assume was your doing. That soul. Given your current state, it would not be unreasonable to assume you consumed it, no? Like your father once would?" the ever-growing blanket of smoke expanded, eventually lapping at the feet and ankles of the porcelain giant. He would not feel anything unusual, only the gentle movement of air. The witch's mask not only received Nox's gaze, but provided its own unassailable grimace.

"I must ask, Nox, how many of your kin have survived the past fifty years? I'm curious, really, of just how terribly the church failed in being thorough."
 
Nox visibly spat onto the pavement, cold orbs immovable from the sorceress's throat. Clearly, nothing would please the undead emperor more than to rip it out. "Not that I owe you an answers to your questions but as far as I can tell..." He'd hold his arms out wide then, showing off his form, almost reflective in the pale light invading the alley from the streets. "I am all that remains of the Old House. I spent half a century searching this city, and the lands around it. I found...nothing. I can't leave the shores. If any of them live, they must be hidden...beyond my reach." Nox would glance at his hands then. Such strong hands, capable of rending stone and steel. Hands that never released anything they managed to find in their grasp. Yet, still, he'd lost them all.

"Though I plan to fix that soon enough. Its already started. Only time can slow its crawl, but at this point..." Now, his gaze would look outside the swirling darkness of their impromptu privacy. "Nothing will stop Winter. They'll all try, like last time, and they might get a reprieve, like last time, but nothing can truly stop it." Those eyes would swivel around rapidly, fixating on that damned mask, and the face behind it. "But you all know that. Its why Father always let you all be in peace, for the most part. You know what we serve. You know it can't ever be stopped. Don't you?"

The Caer avoided the inquiry about the soul. It was hardly Tethys' business, magical authority or not, after all.
 
As the Caer regent further showcased his physical size, Tethys remained still. No matter how ghastly pale the giant was, the blood witch seemed equally dark. The only thing she wore that readily accepted color was her mask, its characteristic painted smirk the only clue to whatever might lie behind it. More than anything, its lines for eyes and thin maroon lips taunted him, a neverending, impenetrable masquerade affixed to her face.

"Apologies for prying, but I presume you have already begun rebuilding?" she needed more information, more to work with. He was already evading questions, she needed to hurry. "I wouldn't say it cannot be stopped, as nearly anything can be stopped. A more appropriate question, I would argue, is will Winter be stopped? I would suggest, with how the world is turning, that no, winter will come."

Perhaps changing the subject would make him more willing to speak.

"On the subject of being in peace, I would like to make a request. There are persons of interest to me and my kin. If you would be willing to if not ensure the safety of, at the very least not endanger the life of, that would be not only greatly appreciated, but I can make sure my coven does not interfere with your plans."

Tethys placed the pipe back into her mouth and took several drags from it, and the smoke at the pair's feet began to align itself into a shape, using positive and negative space to draw a rune. It was a vertical line, which at the bottom diverted into three small lines, with the outer two bending inwards. All three lower lines pointed to a dot below the figure.

"They will bear this mark."
 
Nox studied the floating rune for but a moment, before snapping his fangs like an angry hound at the witch. It was not an attack, the lunge did not even come close, but simply a show of frustration. "You ensure no interference, but what if I seek aid? Will you and your sisters stand at the way side, like last time?" He already knew the answer, of course. Or at least heavily expected one in particular. An empty alliance. Stalemates would be useless once the city was his. It would be easier to know now who to spare and who to stomp into the snow. Though it wasn't exactly safe for anyone. After all, who knows what kind of offspring a witch-mother would sire upon the Caeruleum legacy? A vile grin spread across his face, replacing the furious annoyance with an expression that possibly cracked his face even worse than the previous.

"Tell me something, and and if you're honest with me, I'll answer your question from earlier. The one about the soul." The next words oozed out, thick and alluring like fragranced honey. "Tell me...how young is the youngest bird in your flock? Old enough to bear I presume? Answer me that, spell-slinger."

The moniker was chosen aptly after all. For it might spell disastrous for Tethys should Nox grow too attracted to this line of thought. Not just for her, but for the coven as a whole.
 
An audible sigh escaped from behind Tethys' mask. Such a greedy being, never satisfied with what he was given. Clearly the lack of opposition was not enough. The Caer was a loose end, one that threatened to unravel everything. This, the witch could not afford. "I cannot guarantee anything beyond indifference with my brothers and sisters, but I can offer my own assistance, if such will be needed."

Even before Nox spoke, Fabre could feel his preparation, the sickly-sweet attempt of persuasion. She returned the pipe to her lips as he gave his inquiry, partially to hide her disgust. The Caer were animals before, but clearly their depravity was not lost after the Skirmishes. " Our youngest? Must be nearing seventy. As to whether or not she can still bear, I honestly am not sure. Many of us have grown barren over the years, mind you."

Tethys dared not speak of Arianne's 'child', though the necromancer had her doubts of the girl's ability to bear either way. Direct children were almost unheard of in the coven, every living member was adopted into the fold. There were once rumors of Almas Fabre having hidden kin in Caldonia, but they were now long gone if they existed in the first place.
 
The light left Nox's eyes and the smile left his lips, replaced by an indifferent scowl. "Oh. Barren you say." Tsk. What a waste of perfectly good women. What was the point of their existence if they could not sire his brood. "If that is truly the case, then I suppose I owe you an explanation on something." Turning his back and waving a hand dismissively, he'd move back towards the pile of scraps that remained of the poor girl from not even an hour before. A chunk of what had once been arm, or perhaps calf was raised to his lips, sniffed, and then dropped back to the pavement. The meat was already getting cold. Still edible, but quickly loosing its allure.

"But I must admit, I did not expect so quick a response to what transpired. Its almost as if you'd been watching me." Something he was sure might be untrue, but it was better to probe than to not. If an eye had been upon him, the being inside would've whispered warnings into his ear. "But I doubt that. Something tells me that if you'd become aware of my presence, you'd have made yourselves known to me much earlier. Or...perhaps not. Perhaps your coven assumed a single Caeruleum wouldn't be able to accomplish much, at least nothing on a grand scale. A pity you've been proven wrong."

A wisp of the ethereal escaped from between his fangs, shimmering and resplendent for the brief moment it appeared. A wicked giggle soon followed. "I promised to tell the truth, so I must admit you're entirely correct. Twas I who consumed a raw spirit. The first of many to come."
 
"That was something I wanted to mention, as a matter of fact," Tethys took several steps towards Nox's former victim, taking care not to step in any of the blood or viscera. "I came here because of the soul. We felt that, and I am sure many across and beyond the city felt it as well. Whether or not you are trying to hide, this is thrusting yourself into center stage."

"If I am to be frank, I assumed the entire family died in the skirmishes." As did all of Lutetia, but clearly they were mistaken. The smoke from Tethys' pipe drifted towards the cold, mangled flesh and collected over it, largely to obscure it from its master's eye. She turned up towards Nox's Cheshire grin again, amusing herself in a way with their visual standoff. She had more or less all the information she sought, but lingered in case he provided anything else of use.
 
"Good. Let them come and find me. If you think for a moment that I fear for myself, or my new-found kin, then I believe you gravely misjudged the situation we all find ourselves sharing." Each day, the visions grew more clear. Nox know knew he was following a path that he did not have complete control of. Normally, this would infuriate the nosferatu, drive him mad with rage and self-loathing, but not now. He knew his role, his purpose. "If any seek me out, I'll gladly stride forth to meet them. Perhaps not all of them will be as cowardly as your lot. Perhaps some will see the writing on the wall and fall prostrated before me, begging for mercy and pardon. Perhaps not. Perhaps I'll find no true allies, and my own followers will betray and abandon me. It does not matter, witch. Much like Nito before me, I know exactly where my path takes me. I know what is waiting at the end, I've known for over three hundred years. As I said before...this won't be stopped."

Nox began to gather his clothing, turning his back to her as he dressed in his normal finery, somehow unmarred by the grim of the alley around them. "Consider the choices you have before you, and the plans you have set in motion, carefully. If you seek to bar the way before me in any way, shape, or form, then your fate will be no different than the Wick's."

A gust would pick up through the urban side passage, bringing in another bite of winter's early embrace, and with it, sparse flakes began to fall. The first snows of a the season, come early.
 
For a moment, they were too shocked for words.

Oriane and Ruben, the rich, talented children of the Gesataia family, had felt the disturbance in the air. Ruben had felt it more strongly than his sister, having doubled over in nausea the night before. His connection to the gift, to death and all its strings, was powerful enough that even a small imbalance in the flow came to his notice.

"I didn't know... I didn't realize..." he stuttered, going pale. Oriane grasped his arm lightly. On any other day, she would have nagged and teased him for his cowardice, but this was different. "It... just disappeared."

"Let's leave," Oriane suggested, pulling her brother the other way. "We don't need to stay here. It doesn't do your complexion any good."

Weakly, Ruben nodded, but not before glancing back at the scene once more. He caught a small glimpse of a white bird flying overhead before they left.

The two hurriedly walked away from the scene. Oriane had her hand in her brother's, but his grip was non-existent, and his palms were clammy. He was normally afraid of the things he felt around him, but he had insisted so vehemently that this was different. She brought him to a sunny place within Merveilleux: a park that was largely unsullied by the poverty of the area.
 
Klaira walked into the park, she was hungry and had a lot on her mind. She was hoping to find the park area desolate if she was lucky. She walked through the park without concern to hurrying in any direction. She wanted peace of mind, that was before she had felt a spike in energies. She raised a brow, the feeling wasn't savory whatever it was, she probably would regret going to see what was going on, but she was bored and had nothing better to do than wander anyway. She wasn't too concerned about the minor growl her stomach made in what seemed to be contesting the idea of going to venture into her curiosity instead of filling it with food.

She wore a pair of black flare leg cotton pants, a long sleeve V-neck dark blue cotton shirt and a long black lady's trench coat. Her copper coils danced in the cool fall air. The air smelled of fallen leaves long since lost their last bit of chlorophyll to make their food from the sun and sat on the ground galore decaying to make nature's decomposing blanket against the coming snow and compost for the future greener days after the last snow thaws. The leaves shuffled across the ground as the soft breeze brushed against her form like fingers reaching to touch this child of nature that walked amongst them. She focused a moment, concealing her aura, knowing now would not be wise to advertise her gifts to an unknown energy force that didn't quite feel kindred to nature. Her peridot eyes with olive Sunkist stared about the grounds, searching intensely as she walked for any entity that could be responsible for the off energy spike she had felt not that long ago as she walked. Where she had been, she had been further away from it, the feeling was faint, but she hoped she was on the right track turning around to seek out its source.

Just when she had almost resigned to her stomach's insistent pang and complaining, she spotted movement to her right. She walked on, not trying to make it obvious she had spotted them or was searching for anyone or thing in particular. It isn't always wise to be the first to smile and greet a stranger, especially men she thought to herself as she caught sight of the man with the woman in the near distance.
 
Ruben's hand tightened on Oriane's. "What?" she asked swiftly. "What is it?"

Even ill, the young man was wary. Another person walked into the park, piquing his interest. It wasn't simply the sight of another person, however. There was something off about this one, about the feeling he got as she came closer. He felt it right in his gut.

Oriane, picking up on her brother's behavior, brought her gaze up to the woman who wasn't so far away. She tried to give her a small smile and a wave. "Hello, there. Come to enjoy the park? It's a lovely day. A bit of a breeze, but the sun's warm!"
 
She paused, acting as if she was just noticing the two, offering a soft smile to be polite. She considered her words a moment before replying, she wanted to be sure not to stir any curiosity than was due to a random strolling figure in a park.

"Yes, it is one of my favorite places to go. It is quite lovely here, even with the trees barren of their leaves. This is one of my favorite seasons...the sharp smells, the sounds, very calming to the soul." She answered softly, reaching in her right pocket and pulling out a small brown leather bound book with a pencil tucked in its side where a leather strap slid around to keep the book closed.

She opened the small brown leather book, the first page holding the fairly rough but good quality, but unfinished sketch of a squirrel. She looked down to the book thoughtfully, trying to seem normal. Then pulled out the sharpened pencil and looked to the tree in front of her and smiled softly.

"Love this park for all the nature, it's so unique in many ways. It makes lovely fillers in my sketchbook, though the wildlife never lets me finish sketching them." She giggled a soft melody as she did before smiling more warmly towards them. "What brings you to this lovely place?" She asked, her voice warm and comforting as her peridot eyes stared at them relaying a calmed, controlled woman that stood before them.
 
A young man was sitting on the outdoor table of a coffee shop, watching people walking around as he seemingly waited for his order to cool down. Outwardly, there was nothing wrong with the scene. Inwardly however, Morgan studiously observed the people passing in front of him as he was trying to decide his next victim. The disguised necromancer was getting anxious as it had been awhile since he indulged in his vice. His first victim almost certainly did not count as he was more concerned of obtaining a base of operation and a place to stay rather than actually indulging.

Suppressing a sigh, Morgan played a bit with his coffee cup. As a Lich, he did not have much need of sustenance and he expected to lose his sense of taste anytime, however keeping up appearance was important. Speaking of appearance, he probably should find another place to people watch if he's unable to find a target today.
 
"Just getting a bit of air," said Oriane. "There's a ghastly crime scene down the street. It's... a bit hard to stomach," she told the stranger. She kept her gaze trained onto the young woman before her.

Ruben, too, was wary of the woman. That there was something magical, even as faint as it was, was enough to keep him on edge. He wiped the edge of his mouth and lifted his chin to her. "You're not here for the park."
 
She smiled at the woman, "Thank you for the warning. Should we contact someone about it?" She said, concern coming in to her voice.

She looked past them, concern in her face. She turned her attention back to the man as he accused her of lying. "What makes you think that exactly?" She asked, her voice feigning confusion as convincingly as a pro actor.
 
"The police are already there. We saw the warning tape. There's an animancer there and everything," said Oriane. "This isn't uncommon, especially here. It's just... they're not usually..."

Ruben grabbed Oriane's arm and squeezed it lightly to silence her. She bit her lip.

"What's your deal?" he asked the woman before them. "Why do you feel so strange?"
 
"Animancer?" She had never heard of them.

She looked down a moment, wondering what they meant by this isn't uncommon. Upon the girl being silenced she looked up to the girl confused at her sudden silence. She quickly turned her attention to the boy.

"I feel...strange...to you? She seemed to be perplexed at the suggestion. "What do you mean by that exactly?" She asked softly, she was genuinely curious why she felt strange to the man.

She wondered if it was the fact she projected no aura. She considered the thought, releasing only part of her aura to be seen, the part that stated she was a human, but not her the aura that stated she had magic in her soul.
 
"Don't... don't mind him!" tweeted Oriane. "He's feeling very sick. He's not in his right mind."

She tried to derail the conversation, turned it around even as Ruben glared further. "Animancers? You... don't know of them? Oh, so you're really not from around here, are you?"
 
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