'Are… the people here on drugs?'
Not like, in an attitude way, but as a genuine concern. Over the past few days, Catheris floated around all the cliques like a cloud. What he concluded was that everyone seemed so… out of it.
A week had already passed. Catheris ate meagerly over these past few days. His everyday meal consisted of all the fruit lying around (he suspected that they were meant to be somewhat decorative), the occasional toast, and charcuterie boards. Was it the stigma against eating people? Totally. But what good could happen with necromancers and remains? Nothing.
The only thing he was unsure of was that poem at the beginning of his stay. It was peculiar considering his situation. In the poem written in red ink, this Verlaine wrote of the gold ichor maiden like some sort of goddess. And those themes very well resonated with the twin islands' identities. If they knew about this gold ichor maiden, they must know of that old death god this probably tied back to.
But, if it were that old death god—why was he involved when he'd been dead for centuries? He was an infamous god from the old world who most people knew, but because his name was so cursed, much information about him was lost to time; people only knew of his tyranny, he was painted as a villain by those who wrote the history books. Suffice to say, getting an expert's opinion was probably the right answer. Catheris knew his name and his infamous reputation, but nothing beyond that.
The bureau member introduced himself as Ari. Since they were in a rush during their first meeting, Catheris could now finally ask some questions — but unfortunately, Ari didn't have the answers either; he didn't know why Catheris was in the middle of the damned countryside. Catheris was also apparently so damn important that there was no chance he was escaping successfully. So, that was fun.
Ari was also unfortunately swamped with his own duties, so he assigned Catheris to something he'd be into. See, Catheris told him about the poem and the room he was locked up in. Ari not only recognized the poet, but he also needed some intel from her. Though he was too busy to meet up with her.
It wouldn't be too hard to manage a small escape since nobody would notice. Catheris built his reputation as some sort of introvert by not attending the decadent dinners. Instead, he had big lunches in his room and wasted away. It was a fine arrangement; he'd been ostracized from the start anyway.
Ari said he'd pull some strings to make the meeting go smoother as a 'high-ranking aide'. He wrote directions, which Catheris stuffed between his chest and hanfu.
When the day came, Catheris found out there was Sunday tea-time in another part of the mansion. He curtly declined the invitation by citing his obviously 'poor' appetite as of late. He then requested the weekly suit magazine and, of course, more ink for his designs.
*
"Don't bother, your hollow praises are all bark. Don't burden my exquisite designs with your mediocre gaze."
"...Yes, madam."
The new maid, embarrassed, quickly turned away as Catheris tapped his glass pen against the tatami table.
"Don't you dare pester me again — I'll only say it once. Get out." Catheris scoffed, turning his nose up at the sight of her.
Who even ordered them to call him a madam???
"Y-yes…"
When he heard her footsteps grow quiet, he bounced into action. He locked his room, picked his skirt off the floor, and quietly dashed for the hallway ahead of him.
After a few minutes, he arrived at the familiar mermaid corridor. A soft, cold light passed through the dusty curtains. It was less scary when the dark wasn't playing tricks on his eyes — but he didn't have the time to soak frivolous details.
The instructions noted to go further, further, and further, until he reached a leading door — outside?
[—> Yes, go outside.]
Alright, fair, whatever you say, boss. Not like it's a Virosian winter or anything.
The courtyard was an overgrown small garden. Snow-clumped ivy draped across the brick wall, infesting the cracks. A rocky path led to a tall and round white pavilion at the back.
The slight , real breeze felt foreign on his skin. How long had it been since he even saw sunlight? He began to paw his face in awe, feeling the warmth of his cheek on the back of his hand.
Catheris approached calmly, clenching his teeth through the bearable cold.
At the pavilion sat a short pale, pear-shaped lady. She was bundled in a thick patch blanket as she read her book. She had short mousy brown hair, brilliant green eyes, and freckles across her face.
She looked up when she realized he was there. The look she gave him felt unreal—like she was gazing into a painting—simultaneously there, yet not there.
"So, we meet again, my fair dear. I am truly enchanted to meet you, ✿" She whistled.
"You're the first to ever pique my creative flow with your beauty~✿ "
???
"Ah — that's right, we haven't actually introduced ourselves to each other yet. I am Lain, and may I have the pleasure of having yours?
Huh, makes sense, Lain and Verlaine. According to Ari, she was a live in poet.
"Orpheus."
"Orpheus…" She repeated ever so softly, enunciating every phoneme.
"What a lovely name—as mythological as your existence. Would you like some chamomile tea? I also have a fur shawl right here… you look cold."
Catheris nodded, accepting both. He hummed as he wrapped himself up, and watched as she poured him a cup.
"Lain, are you a big history person?" He narrowed his eyes.
"Poetry and history go hand in hand with each other. Poetry preserves the memory of the moment and passes it down. It strings humanity through the passage of time."
"Humanity is beautiful in its cyclical nature. Say, what did you mean by 'piqued your creative flow with my beauty?"
"You reminded me of a tragic old Deliamois goddess I heard of. See, I always admired her radiance, but I could never capture her essence in a poem—until I saw you, that is. For that, I am deeply grateful."
"Any… particular reason for the handcuffs?"
"I was scared you'd run off while I was in the middle of writing~✿ It's rare for me to have such a creative surge like that. Thankfully, you slept like a baby bird the whole time. After I was done with the poem, I had to go do something outside so I took the opportunity to make it some sort of puzzle. Trust me—I'd free you if you didn't get it."
"...And the red ink?"
"I just write important things in red ink. It's very striking. I started doing it after my manuscript came back covered in red text from my editor."
"Alright. Would you also care to explain all the mermaids? I'm quite curious."
"Ah, yes, Naeda. She's a symbol of the estate here. I heard the late head of the estate directed a movie about her?"
Catheris spat out his tea. He quickly apologized, wiping his mouth and recollecting himself.
'He liked the story enough to make a movie about her… and on top of that, he's some artsy cultist — the worst kind of lunatic.'
"I'd also like to ask about Mobius."
Lain narrowed her eyes.
"You're investigating, right? ✿"
After hesitating a bit, Catheris relented.
"Yes…"
"Well, good luck to you. I've always felt this place was off. He's an old Virosian death god usurped by the Unicorn Saintess twins."
"What relevance would you think he has today?"
"He's bad to get involved with, so none. In the old world, nobody thought anything of pledging their souls to him; it was only right in exchange for his guardianship and the necromancy magic he gave. It was only after his death that his followers couldn't 'die' in a normal sense due to him having authority over their souls."
"...I see."
"I'm assuming it's still confusing. Let's enjoy this tea together. ✿"
"Yes, you're right."
So… what would a cannibalistic necromancy cult have to do with a bunch of young women (and Catheris for whatever reason)?. Thinking about it, the guy he saw a week ago had an insignia…?
"Actually… Could you elaborate on the abnormal death?"
"You've made a breakthrough already?" She said, raising her voice at the end.
Catheris shook his head in uncertainty. He brought up the incident at the stairwell and detailed the man's condition.
"Well, after the Unicorn Twin saintesses took on the sovereignty of governing the planes of life and death, Mobius' followers had already sworn their souls for him to judge, and the twins did not have the authority to weigh their souls. They wandered until their body couldn't handle it anymore, becoming literal husks."
"That… does seem to fit what I described, thank you."
This place was definitely more fishy than he originally thought. Catheris was supposed to keep a low profile, stay quiet, and gather bits of intel, all while waiting to be eventually rescued. But something was wrong. How did all of this connect…? What exactly was this estate up to in order for them to be putting their souls on the line?
"I have to go back now. They'll get suspicious if I'm out for too long."
"Well then, I hope to see you again sometime."
"Maybe, if fate allows it."
"Well, you'll be out by spring. Would you like to walk by the magnolias with me? As an apology for the cuffs, it'd be my treat."
"By the way, do you know the name of the late head?"
"Why… hm—I think it was Alexei Gardenia?"
[…At the Bureau of Paranormal Activity]:
Mr. Beo shrugged, leaning back in his office chair.
"Alexei Gardenia… well, I can't say I'm shocked to hear him involved with a cult."
The BoPA's dispatcher tensed.
"You know him?!" She shrieked.
"Yeah, small director. I always liked the old documentary feel of his films; the sepia filter really worked well with the stories he tried to portray. He had this ethereal horror thing going on. It's always those artsy lunatics, honestly."
He sighed wistfully; this wasn't his first rodeo.