Chronicles of The Omniverse Archived Lutetia City: The Phantom Quarter

Lutetia was an alien name to the demon, and didn't mean much anyway; when your being was pulled through the earth countless times, place lost its meaning. This didn't mean the demons attention was distracted however: he took note of the crossed arms as he moved round the circle, and assumed that she was an experienced summoner used to such methods, wasting time being a common trick among demons. The tiger also saw her facade of kindliness, and knew that was all it was: a facade. Likely it was to gain his trust, but the tiger was a cautious being, and wouldn't let it's guard down for a mere human who appeared somewhat friendly. When she revealed her name, Sarkova paused a moment, seeing if it stirred any sense of familiarity, which it didn't, before replying.

"Sarkova" he said, the voice sounding strangely human coming from the tigers mouth. He waited a few moments, and figured one question of his own couldn't hurt. "Why am I here?"
 
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The woman grin widened a bit. "Well, my dear Sarkova.." She said, her words honeyed. "I was hoping that you and I could be.. Friends." Slowly she moved, circling the imprisoned genie. "You see.. Although I have powers of my own, obviously.." She gestured towards him. "I have plans for this world that requires ah.. Well, we'll say, a partner in crime?" She stopped in front of him again. "Does that sound like fun?"
 
It was typical to find a human who was ambitious, but it was less common, or so Sarkova found, to find a human who possessed humility, especially when in regards to something they viewed as a creature as opposed to a person. However, this woman seemed to have some degree of it, not that it mattered too much. Clearly, she wanted him to do something she was incapable of doing, or at least, something for which the backlash would be too great.

"Does it mean you'll break this circle?" he asked, moving forwards as his bones cracked and skin melded together, showing a human instead of a tiger. However, he still bore features of some animals, most notably small horns visible just above his hair, which was a mess of black, contrasted by the relatively smart suit he was wearing. He smiled back, eyes of a sickly yellow meeting hers, and placed a palm on whatever energy prevented him from passing. If she dropped the circle without sufficient command, it was entirely plausible he could kill her, thereby ending the contract she had so far forced upon him. He felt no obligation towards her, and he didn't like the fact that her last sentence, 'does that sound like fun', made him sound like more of a child rather than a demon it took actual effort to control.
 
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"Perhaps. But we must come to an arrangement." She said. "I won't hurt you, if you won't hurt me, so on so forth. And I assure you, this place should grab your interest soon enough. So what do you say, let's make a little deal." As he became more human, her features seemed to change as well, although slightly. Her eyes became more slanted. Her nails on her fingers grew slightly longer. "You will help me with my plans, Sarkova. And I let you go free from that circle." She extended her hand to him inside the circle, as if looking for a hand shake. She seemed to be purposefully being foolish.
 
Sarkova took note of her changing features, and for a brief moment, considered the fact that she might be some djinn herself, but dismissed the idea. While he had heard stories of such things happening, they were just that: stories. His own features changed as well, his smile making way for a scowl as she listed off her rules, horns growing more prominent, teeth notably sharper, and nails now looking more like claws.

"Fine" he said, giving the appearance of someone trying to remain civil, but only because violence wasn't right, or in Sarkova's case, possible. He grabbed the hand she extended through the circle, holding it a bit tighter and longer than one might deem necessary, claws digging into her flesh slightly, some pathetic attempt at showing he wasn't too happy with the deal, without giving her cause to act on the fact that he was technically breaking it. "So am I allowed out of this circle now?" he asked, waiting for her to do whatever it was she had to do. "And what are 'we' doing?" He emphasised the word 'we', clearly under the impression that whatever task she had, it was more likely to involve him.
 
As he grabbed her arm, her glamour fell completely. She took a fox-like shape, white ears tipped with black cocked slightly in amusement. Six long, luxurious tails flicked behind her, the fur matching that of her tufted ears. He face grew more slanted, though it did not take from her beauty. It only gave her a more exotic look. And her violet hues glowed slightly, illuminating the power that this creature had. She let out a small chuckle, unbothered by the force he had placed on her delicate looking skin, as she gently pulled on the arm of the djinn, leading him out of his imprisonment.

"Well. I figured you'd like a little tour of the place." She said quietly. "And would like to learn more about where it is I have summoned you. But I'm not going to force you. You're free to do as you please tonight, m'dear."
 
Even Sarkova, a creature sustained by magic in a plane far away from his home, must admit that he didn't suspect the human in front of him to be anything else. Perhaps, had there been some indication that she wasn't entirely what she seemed, he might have checked, but that wasn't the case, and so he didn't. Inwardly, he disapproved of himself, but also grudgingly admired her, being able to trick him like that, even if she didn't mean to. He noted the glow, and assumed it was something indicating power or health; either way, it was clearly doing her some good.

What she said also took him by surprise: usually, summoners didn't care about what the djinn wanted, much less offering to tell them about where they were beyond what might be useful to their task. Perhaps he had underestimated her. "Alright..." he said, clearly hesitant as he was confronted with a situation he wasn't used to.
 
She closed her eyes and clapped her hands together gleefully. "Excellent!" She said, taking his hand once again. "Stay close to me, alright?" Leading him once again, she quickly went for the stairs. Once both had exited the room, the room faded back to its original dismal appearance. Nothing else remained. Outside, the ruined part of the city was an awful sight. Even in the twilight, the ruined remains of the Phantom Quarter held no remnants of its former glory. The putrid smell of rotting trash and corpses wafted from the sewers below. A hard stark contrast to the room they had just been in.

Still, the creature did not seem to pay it heed. "I'm sure you have questions. Particularly about my plans for you, but I wish to avoid those questions until I get to know you better. Any other question is fair game, though." She said. She had them both round the corner of a crumpled building. "This.. This is the Phantom Quarter. Most people avoid it, for obvious reasons. Though if you would like to have your privacy.. This and the sewers are the best place for it."
 
The demon was taken aback by her sudden energy, the gleeful manner she now presented a stark contrast to the more formal, albeit playful, side she had displayed before. He stepped over the circle, feeling the familiar wave of nausea as he passed over the line, the energy of his home plane deserting him, and allowing this new, physical dimension to fully get a grip, rooting him to it. No matter how many times he experienced it, it would always be unpleasant.

He followed the fox creature, wondering why she hadn't summoned him where she needed him, and looked around as they entered the outside, the dismal state of the buildings leading Sarkova to believe what she would confirm moments later: that she wanted privacy. For whatever reason, but it was safe to assume that whatever state ran this hell hole wouldn't be too fond of her ideas. As for getting to know him better... the demon hoped, despite her seemingly pleasant manner, that she didn't need him for any extended periods of time; he had a feeling that although she had revealed what seemed to be her true form, she was still hiding something.
 
Seeing he asked no questions, she gave no answers further. Peeking around the occasional wall to make sure there was no trouble around, Sumisu lead him through the Phantom Quarter, and further into the city. This day had gone better than planned.
 
Take this with you.

Abel Lachapelle clasped the carved ivory idol. A soft warmth radiated from it, though he wasn’t sure if that was his own body heat or not. He looked down at the list typed out on his phone, and he scratched his head at what exactly Arianne and company requested from him.

The bottled song of a chime spirit.

“How exactly does she expect me to..?” The apprentice rounded a corner and continued deeper into the Phantom Quarter. The occasional crack of gunfire or sounds of a scuffle echoed far in the peripheries, sending more souls into the endless void away from their friends and loved ones. Grim as the thought was, Abel understood this cycle well. He turned another corner towards the soft sound of clutter and objects clicking together, and its source. An ethereal child, frantically trying to put the shards of a glass object back together. After the first few pieces, it would simply fall apart and she would try again.

Lachapelle dreaded to imagine how long she had been doing this.

He stepped forwards without a word. The Monastery had taught him to always help those in need. Lachapelle bent down, held his hands over the broken glass, and exhaled. A soft glow bathed the shards as they rose above the ground and began to reform. The ghost’s eyes grew wide in wonder. A figurine of a dog, with impressive details etched into it, descended into the girl’s hands.

“The Light watches us all.” The proselyte knelt beside the child. She opened her mouth to speak, interrupted by motes of light emerging from the walls and ground. The silent air now carried a dolorous melody, a lone chime that crescendoed as the source emerged. A shimmering, golden spirit, with a body shaped like a bell and two curious, luminous golden eyes. Once in view, each of the motes of light joined in to the spirit’s chorus. The symphony of singing lights danced and twirled towards the little girl, and she started to lift into the sky.

Abel rummaged through his bag and opened the jar he brought, swiping it through the air and catching several of the lights inside. They didn’t panic or scramble for the open end of it, allowing him to close the lid without much effort. He was alone once more as the spirit raptured the lost soul, with the three motes of light still singing their enchanted tune.

He produced his phone and sent a text message to the contact A F

What exactly are these chime spirits?

A few minutes passed, and Abel started to walk again, looking for his next ingredient. His phone buzzed with a new message.

If a soul is left behind from attachment or other burden, the Chime Spirits lead them to the land of the dead once they can finally let go. A wonderful tune, is it not?

The apprentice sighed and put his phone away.
 
"Fancy light show you put on there." A voice piped up from the far end of the alleyway where the ghost had been lingering, interrupting Abel's contemplation as he began walking again. Leaning against the wall at the mouth of the alley leading back to the street, a young man stood, fixing the proselyte with a flat grey stare. He was dressed in grimy, slightly ragged clothes, and his skin was pale - though not quite so pale as to be clearly unnatural. "I wonder if you really believe that. 'The Light watches us all'. Hate to break it to you kid, but it doesn't shine all that often in this part of town, unless it's here to burn things."

The boy folded his arms, not taking his eyes off of the out-of-place wanderer. "You don't belong here, kid. Wander round much longer in nice clothes and looking clean, and you're gonna get mugged and left in a ditch to bleed out. I suggest you head home."
 
"Pardon?" Abel stepped back slightly. "I-I was reciting a prayer for the dead. It was to guide a lost soul to the afterlife. You can see them too, right?" He cradled the glass statue in his hands, before placing it back in his bag. "I just live at the church, I'm not a canhead or anything.." He produced his phone to try to message his master.

No service.

His eyes drifted back up to the stranger, and he noted the aura emanating from the boy opposite him. "Those magicks surrounding you.. are you undead?" His tone was not accusatory, but curious.
 
The boy's eyes widened slightly when the proselyte was able to tell what he was, and he pushed off of the wall, expression quickly sinking into a scowl. "What are you talking about?" he snapped, his defensiveness lending very little credence to the denial. "It's just magic. Do you go around assuming every... every necromancer you meet is undead?" If nothing else, it seemed Abel had succeeded in throwing off the lurking teenager's cool.
"Who are you, anyway? A witch that lives with the church? Pull the other one."
 
"You're either a very powerful necromancer, or an undead made by one, definitely. And given by your reaction, I think I know which one you are," Abel gave a playful smirk at the ghoul and stepped forwards. "I guess you could say I'm a magician's apprentice that also happens to be a proselyte," the boy brushed an alabaster lock of hair back. Pangs of fear for his life still bounced through his mind, though he banked on his dry teasing to fluster the teenager out of attacking him. "Speaking of, have you seen any cats around here? I need a few hairs from the tail of a stray."
 
"Tch," the boy scowled moodily, but he plainly realised there wasn't much point denying it again. "Alright, church boy, you got me. What're you going to do about it? Purge me in the name of the light? Because I don't rate your chances at that."

The boy reached beneath his jacket and pulled out the easily recognisable form of a Lawkeeper, twirling the hefty pistol in his hand and shooting Abel a smirk. "You don't look as tough as the guy I took this from. And no, I've not seen your dumb cat. This is the phantom quarter, not your grandma's back yard."
 
"Nothing, really, I'm not here on church business, and I'd rather keep my head where it is," Abel nodded and shrugged. "I'm running errands for the witches that are training me, and I doubt I can buy any of this from the supermarket." The student gestured towards the ghoul. "Want to come with me? You might see something new, and not as an innuendo."
 
The boy shot Abel a faintly incredulous look. This wasn't how people were supposed to react to having a gun brandished in front of them by a zombie. This kid was weird, even for a churchie. After a moment, though, the stare gave way to a snort of laughter. Shaking his head, the boy shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, sure, why the fuck not? Not got anything better to do today, might as well play spectator to some church boy poking his nose into shit creek."

He put the lawkeeper away under his jacket again, back into its makeshift holster that was really just a hole cut into the lining, then folded his arms. "So you're a proselyte and a witch, how's that happen without you getting burned at the stake?"
 
Abel let out a small sigh of relief. It seemed the proselyte training did help him keep a calm facade, and he was going to live another day. "I just enjoy magic far more than whatever else they would prefer to teach me. I got in trouble a lot, but after what happened at Valentine Park, they were willing to at least let me study in peace. It probably helped that the witches teaching me had saved my life too."

"I guess they've just got more important problems to deal with than one of their kids looking at books," he smirked and flicked his wrist, a puff of sparks bursting from his palm for show.

Abel checked the list on his phone again.

"Hm, glass stained with the blood of a virgin, thrice charred. How in the hell do they expect me to do that...?"
 
The boy shrugged. It made sense. The only time the church would look the other way on things like that were if they were busy staring at something they hated more. And there were very few people that weren't staring, after the bombing the other day. He briefly zoned out, thinking back on that day, until Abel spoke up again.

Without missing a beat, the boy gave him a pointed look. "If you wanna cut yourself, I've got a lighter."
 
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