???:"And thus so! We all shall depart one day from this life....eternity awaits! So fret not....
...She always helped in church....
....By God's mercy, let that killer be punished....in the name....we cry....
.....she shall be buried next to her father! According to the wishes of Her husband and mother. Does anyone have things to say—"
???:"She was the best wife I could have ever asked for...no, I don't think I could ever think to ask....*hic* She was just...too g-great for me to deserve...!—"
???:"She was definitely a worrier. Always worrying where Little Serf, Rall or sindri went...I always asked her to worry about herself as well but she didn't listen. Probably got it from her father—"
Raz:"....She was...she was....*hic*—"
???:"She might have had a short-temper but she was calm when it most mattered."
???:"I never knew her, I only talked to her once but I could tell she was amazing. I wish I could have talked to her more. She was certainly a cheer to converse with—"
Rall:"She was like another daughter."
Ramiel:"—AUGH! MY BABY! SHE WON'T WAKE UP! WHY! SHE DIDN'T DESER—"
Selera:"She may have been markless but she was a great assistant when she worked for me, patients would be slightly afraid of her thin-temper breaking but found her cheery, I did too. Like a sister...tch. who ever that sick bastard is I'll fuc—"
Serf:". *Not present*. "
Arthur:"I never knew her nor did I ever talk to her. But her fate was undeserving I can say for sure."
The people filed away in blocks of not too many, but not too scarcely: lamented. And by ending, Egressed, some in grief, some in slight remorse.
It was a funeral fit for a woman with deserving love and respect like any other.
Shuffling through the moving waves of exiting people, Arthur had found himself breathing in a fresh breath of air outside the burial site. The grave yard for dalumen had been deeper into the forest towards the western side of dalumen. He supposed the trek is not too difficult due to the fact that there was a lack of malign creatures to cause harm in the forest. It was relatively safe.
Arthur:"—I can't understand why the killer hasn't been found yet."
Arthur sighed deeply as he thought so, he had been worried about the killer the moment he knew of their existence. Especially so from the grim sight of the victim.
Yet, what made him befuddled and absolutely muddled was the fact that these killings were not out of the ordinary for the populace for dalumen.
Infact. It had been considered a grim norm for dalumen. For atleast a hundred years.
It was simply preposterous. Although the world has a history of cataclysmic extinction events for life itself plentiful of times. Regressing humanity at a time, forcing semi restarts for the human race's technology.
It was in no manner, a difficult task to find one criminal. Especially in the span of a century of activity.
The only reasonable way to explain the fallings of arrest and/or execution of such a criminal would probably be due to the gap inbetween murders but even then it made no sense.
Why couldn't they just ask for outside help—are they really that backwards?
Although the line of thought was linear at first, he branched it towards accusation. It could be said that the dalumen populace were people who lacked the ability to ask outsiders for help. But...
—This notion of thought....was utterly ridiculous. But if that was not the case then the situation must not have been taken seriously by lavestian investigation federation and monster control associat—
Man...im tired. Let's not think about it so much.
Thus that thought process reached it's terminus.
1 day later—
The past days had been spent in a laguid state of undulating between trial of envoking the truth behind the killings and giving up due to tire.
But most importantly—
Ramiel:"Serf has yet to leave her room..."
Arthur:"It is understandable...do you have any numbers for therapists?"
Ramiel could only sigh in unfounded shame.
Ramiel:"No, Selera told Rall that she would make time today evening. An emergency came up and she couldn't just come."
For the past days Selera had chosen to give Serf therapy, though to no avail.
Thus so, she had decided to ask another actual therapist for help. Called Dr.Tom.
The only differences in terms of their field between the both are two. He was better than her in psychology and he wanted payment. A fair ask.
Alas, both medical practitioners were busy for giving a faster appointment today. Of course, they weren't ungrateful as Dr.Tom had choosen to give therapy bi-daily. Surely, such an excessive need for high frequency visits may seem odd. But serf was a child that witnessed a gruesome murder, not to mention of a very beloved person.
It was to make sure she doesn't do anything impulsive, Dr.Tom had stated that Serf was ailed not by grief but fear. Perhaps a combination of both.
It makes sense. It makes alot of sense...haa...why am I even doing this?
Arthur was a man astrided by a mind of curiosity, with a heart that disliked cruelty. Yet he hadn't been searching for the killer with as much strain as he should for the search.
Tired. That excuse always lingered as he left afoot from his search. Truth be told, he was...stressed.
The height of his choice back then with the assasin had worn off long ago, only Argus had kept him from thinking about it but he had little to no dialogue with Argus for the past four days.
The choice being: to let Mrs.Will—or to be accurate. Tenurry Margret Severa. Live.
Tenurry had woken up a day ago, the night after Zenna's funeral. Although unable to move as much and unable to speak for long, she was still able to communicate with Selera who was present at the time.
Im so thankful for my past self for setting up contingency.
He had told Selera to inform him firsthand before any Convo with Tenurry—Ah, he supposed Margret rolled off the tongue better.
As such, he was able to pick up the call from her in the middle of the night to go dashing, enroute to Selera's multi purpose house.
Thus so, margret knew that she was in his mercy and couldn't say anything about the ironed blood's relations coursing through his veins to selera.
Despite so, to his surprise she had no clue of who he really was at all.
To bale up the excess they had learned from Margret—could be summed as such.
1.Her name was Tenurry Margret Severa, a mouthful. Although she didn't say it, he could guess that she must not have been from the severa bloodline Directly. It should have been obvious due to her mark being of a war priestess instead of the severance mark but one could never know.
Her real name then would be in a way Tenurry Margret.
2.She still wants to kill him despite him saving her. He had no blame to direct. He could tell she had something she had to fight for.
3.She had a tracker on her. Although it was destroyed during Arthur's and Tenurry's kefuffle of a chase. It was still close enough to dalumen so as to engorge a sense of unease.
That was all she could say before she fell back to sleep.
4.She cannot stay awake for long.
These factors were plaguing his soul vehemently throughout the day. Enhancing the sense of impending doom he carried even before today for the past three.
To be Frank, he had his own problems. Yet he was being foolish enough to try to solve other people's problems—the clear cut summery.
He didn't wish to complain but he could not refrain from doing so, he owed them that much after all, yet he was still human. A human who truly still wanted nothing of life or death.
After walking away to a remote place away from the crowd and an annoying attendee of the burial trying to converse, with an excuse to get some air—he kneeled down and rubbed his face. Roughly. His eyes began to even hurt.
Arthur:"Ha....come on bastard.... bastard? Yeah...Yeah, heh."
A brief self-deprecative chuckle passed out his lips.
Arthur:"...Bastard come on...that old fuck won't let you stop from helping can he?"
He couldn't, He cannot, no matter what, allow that man to take anything else. He had no care for life or others anymore. Yet he knew what he would have wanted in the past. No matter how weak his stomach or mind was. He couldn't stomach the thought of letting himself stop from helping just because of some stress. Murrain and distasteful daunt and worries.
With a thought —
Purge it...We can't just allow myself to sit down and do nothing.
Arthur stood back up, his eyes burning with a spiteful determination.
He turned briskly and walked. Towards his destination.
That being—
I'll start tomorrow. I'm tired.
—To his room. Shamelessness waging against shame. The fire flickering as a shadow of tire? loomed over it.
What a shame. He was just too tired today. He cannot change things so easily could he? The day of trial can wait.
Tired. He was Tired. So Tired.