Gideon signed the small slip of paper he had been Writing on, and folded it up and placed it into his pocket.He looked towards the sheet covered body of Risa. He couldn't bare to keep looking at it while he wrote. It made him feel an overwhelming sense of guilt.
'Shouldn't I do something about her body?' He asked the dragon in the back of his head
'No, Let The People Bury Her. You Haven't The Time.'
'But won't they be suspicious of us?'
'You Explained Quite Clearly The Urgency Of Finding The First, And The Circumstances Of Her "Death". Do Not Harbor Worry, Trust Me, We Will Be Fine.'
"If you're certain..." Gideon finally muttered aloud. He unfolded himself and stood up. Walking through the empty halls of the temple left his footsteps echoing. It was a bit disconcerting, how empty the place was, It was almost sad. Gideon pinned his note to the board outside the Warrior's Chambers. They would come here first. And Find it before Risa. Speaking of, Gideon headed to her apartments to go find Nightingale.
Gideon found her draped across the couch, sound asleep. He dared not to wake her. No, Nightingale needed to rest. It was going to be a tiresome journey. Gideon began to circle the main room of Risa's apartment. There were too many memories in this place. Gideon stopped in the small personal library corner He and Risa had spent years in, Him studying and training under her. Removing himself from these painful thoughts, He went to sit in Risa's preferred chair.
Gideon quickly lept up, smothering a yelp so as not to wake Nightingale. He pulled a shiny silver pin from the chair. It was connected to a dark purple thread, whit was stuck in a pile of purple fabric, in varying shades. Grabbing the corner of the pile, Gideon held it up to reveal an almost finished purple gown. It was beautiful, the kind of thing you'd find royals wear on a holiday.
Then it struck him like a bullet. The festival of Lights was not but a few months away. The celebration where Dragons dress in the colors of their aura's. This Dress was a beautiful representation of Nightingale's Aura. The Bottom most layer of the skirts were a dark shade of royal purple, so close to black it was terrifying. The next tier was only slightly lighter, the next being slightly lighter and on and on. It would have fluttered and swirled as Night walked, just as her eyes spun.
"Oh Goddess..." Gideon said. A few tears leaked out of the corner of his eyes. "What am I going to do with out her?"
Nightingale stirred when Gideon walked by, and when he shot up, but she never woke...
Suddenly, a ripping noise resounded quietly through the room and a small circle of light appeared in front of Nightingale, as if balancing on the coffee table she lay in front of. After a few seconds, the Light Circle turned to black, and a familiar little face appeared in it. The man in the circle was dressed in a simple collared shirt, grey in color, and black slacks. His eyes burned with a tired flame, one that swiveled with his every movement. The man was sitting with on knee to his chest, where he propped his face and fists.
"Nightingale...?" The face said quietly, his expression turning to a troubled, sad, and a bit confused look. "Nirox nue havem... shiel sanna kai der windsterniellsto..." He began, his voice turning a bit rough, but still missing and thoughtful. It was obviously a different, darker language. "Miroxni derra lo Rosei yo Mix..." He said, tucking his face behind his fists and sighing deeply. "Tel-tannen... Mixo... Mixo skeraldo... his-vanen shi'elldom... Mixo... I..." He sighed again and lifted his eyes to the sleeping girl. "Vii hanen moshun... Koruxnarr... De-lol-tink de Datora en Zon, Demetrius... I... Pos mort... Pleeziure, sprechen mix ven shi... ven shi emotani benzi..." He said, sighing again and looking around the dark space that he sat in.
