Requiem of Blood

~ Misty Era ~ I ~

Rain. 

A cycle in weather, the people of the past weeping from above, the earth itself shedding its sorrows. Often associated with sadness. Appropriately the common setting for funerals. 

It was raining today. 

Gathered round the varnished ebony casket, that sat solemn in a six foot grave, a handful of people remained after a service. A woman's mother who was on her knees at the foot of said grave, the damp grass beneath her wetting her tights as she wept. Behind her, a tall man also fitted in all black holding an umbrella over his mourning wife, stoic and detached from the world. As if still denying the burial of his daughter. 

Those were the people who stood out most to Neuvillette, the rest, most likely close friends and family of the deceased. The funeral was a public attending, anyone was welcome to pay their respects. Her death had been strewn about the daily papers for its most gruesome and horrific nature. Neuvillette was here both to pay his respects, and offer a service to this weeping family. 

Walking toward the open grave, a small daisy in hand, he stood by its edge and leant forward to drop the flower. It fell without sound to the glossy, wet, surface of the coffin. The weeping mother glanced up, and held her sobs for a moment, the father too turning to look at the stranger, who now stood silent before their daughters grave. 

"Who.. Who a-re you..?" The woman asked, wiping her tears and taking to her feet. 

"A magistrate, and detective. Please call me Neuvillette." The white haired man spoke, turning to the mother and bowing his head. The woman turned to her husband, then back to Neuvillette. 

"Why.. are you here..? What's, a noble like yourself doing he.. here..?" she asked, her voice shaky, uncertain as to the strange mans presence. 

"I'm here to pay my respects, and offer you an answer." Neuvillette spoke plainly. The husbands expression changed, his brow raising before it furrowed in anger, his voice slightly raised as he spoke in response. 

"Do you know something- about our daughters death." The mans tone was stern, threatening. Neuvillette calmly looked up at the pair before him, his expression changing before looking to the coffin in the ground. 

"No. But myself and my colleague can find out who took your daughter from you." Neuvillette offered. "We own an agency that, I suppose you could say, specializes in these sorts of cases, the kind that police, quote, 'don't have the man power to solve'. That is, what they told you, correct?" The white haired man raised a matching brow, eyes looking to the pair for a response. 

The two looked at each other, before the wife took a shaky breath and nodded. "Yes that.. is what they told us." she admitted. Neuvillette nodded and looked to the floor. 

"As expected of the Gardes. Well, for now I can only offer my condolences- and a telephone number to our office, Monsieur Wriothesley, lead detective, is rather adept when it comes to cases of this nature, ones lacking evidence and no trace of a killer. The most I ask of you, is to- come to our office, if you will, so we can discuss the victim. Perhaps give us any clues as to her death." Neuvillette looked down now, to the coffin that lay silent, the only sound was the gentle patter of rain on its wooden surface. 

"We'll, consider it Monsieur." The husband spoke up, looking to the taller man before them. Neuvillette reached into his trench coat pocket, pulling out a plain black and white business card, and putting it in the trembling hands of the woman.  

"Take care, and please, do consider my offer." Neuvillette dismissed, his was tone gentle as he walked past the couple, offering them a final glance before the sounds of footsteps on wet grass grew distant, and slowly vanished from earshot.