ACT I.I — the final translation of love

[bloodyopus]

Who: Phantom and you, perhaps
What: Quest, to summon a certain lady (Miss Christine)
When: Mid-March? (after Wolfwood's bonfire)
Where: Network & The Manor (outside its boundary)
Warnings: Mentions of death & grief, will add more if they came up

Network post, early afternoon.

Hello. May I borrow one of you who's free at the time being? Only one person is enough.

...Perhaps I should rephrase that: does any of you want to receive some flowers? Vase optional, but I can get one for you from Heimr, if you'd like. Erm, this is for quest purposes. Please help me out.

If you're afraid that any of the monsters are still wondering around, I'd come to you. Fret not, my Arts enables me to sneak past them.

...Thank you.

The Manor, before evening, semi-closed (?)

After he'd given the first half of the bouquet to someone, Phantom heads to the mysterious, fenced manor. It stood almost at the centre of the Grove, still proudly so, despite its state of dereliction and abandonment as well as the forlorn air surrounding it. Even without the fence and its...general strangeness, the Feline operator was aware that he should not trespass there, or even dared to attempt to enter. The complete darkness inside (from what he could glimpse after passing by a few times or so) is there for a reason.

...He wasn't there for the old dog, either. No, he went to the stone grave, covered in white, cloth flowers with a particular name inscribed on its headstone.

Audrey.

He has no memories of his life here (as of yet), and the name had yet to ring a bell to him. But surely she was someone when she was still here, still alive — someone loved, someone who laughed, someone who, like his past self, once existed.

...Everything was still when he arrived at her grave. Not a single shadow moved, although Phantom kept the ones he manipulated with his Arts close by, in case the Forest brought out more monsters.

The phantoms of the past are still here, watching silently, their spectral forms still choking the Grove. He was growing used to them, after all.

He, too, was silent; his cloak of the night draped over his dark grey suit, the second half of the flower bouquet that Ydallir had given him rested in his arms. The vivid red of the gladiolus flowers was a stark contrast against his dark attire — he thought them more suitable than the traditional, ghostly white roses of Victorian funerals, since they symbolised strength and bravery.

Perhaps love, too. One that endures.

"...May you find your way home," He bends down, placing the bouquet of red gladiolus atop the grave. They made for a brilliant sight, a lovely complement to the white cloth flowers already decorating the grave. "Into dust we return, and into dust we shall go."

After he spoke the words to the owner of the grave, he straightened up himself. Hopefully, the magic is complete now, and the 'price' to summon his dearest feline companion has been paid, and well enough at that. He lingered for a moment after he'd completed his task; although his cloak would render him unnoticed, anyone who passes by might still catch a glimpse of him, or at least the new, fresh flowers on Audrey's grave.

Comments

[purevanillacookie]

I would be delighted to help you, my friend! Do you merely need to give flowers to someone?