Whispers of Nowhere

Chapter Ten: Part One

Seven days had passed since their return from Greece, the last five of which had been long, uneventful—and boring beyond belief. When Gwen had finally come to, it was to learn that she'd been out-cold for two days straight. Only when Forneus was positive she was fully healed and had supplied her with food and drink did he tell her all that she'd missed while unconscious.

Gwen pondered over Forneus's words as she brushed her teeth. It was believed the trio they had fought back in Rome had once been a single entity named Mizake, a particularly powerful Akuma that had wrought destruction upon the eastern borders of Japan in centuries passed—and one whom had mysteriously disappeared over thirty years ago. According to Forneus, the Regulations Force had irrefutable evidence that the trio were part of a larger organization seeking the artifacts for themselves, and that their suspicion of Reeves' involvement had become stronger with each passing day.

In fact, Forneus had gone so far as to suggest that Reeves was the trio's ring leader, though no one was certain as to who the true puppet master behind him might be. Their only certainty was that there were enemies far more powerful waiting in the wings for them, far beyond the skill of even one as well renowned as Reeves.

As she rinsed her toothbrush, Gwen glimpsed herself in the mirror, frowning at the face that peered back at her. Already her face seemed much thinner than she remembered, the deep, purple shadows beneath her eyes giving them a slightly puffy, haunted appearance, though the irises were otherwise clear and bright. Something she couldn't describe glimmered within their depths, something she was certain hadn't been there before. Had she really changed so much in the past two weeks?

Startled when she heard a faint knock at the door, Gwen stepped out of the bathroom and beckoned Forneus to enter. He had been stopping in so frequently for the past few days, it had become routine. With each visit, he looked more haggard than the last.

Today was no exception. The moment he stepped through the door, she took notice of the deep creases beneath his eyes, faintly grey as though he hadn't slept in days. Gwen supposed that might be true, or that at the very least, he hadn't slept nearly enough. Even his normally well-pressed clothes were rumpled, his hair slightly unkempt, giving him the appearance of a tortured poet.

She didn't comment on this however, and simply took her usual spot on her bed, sitting cross-legged as Forneus settled into the chair beside the nightstand.

"How are things coming along?" she asked, glancing at him eagerly. "Has the council come up with a plan yet?"

"Yes, all that's left now is to execute it." There was something off about the way he said it, the skin around his eyes drawn tight with worry.

"Okay...so what's the problem, exactly?" Gwen studied him, absently tucking a lock of hair behind her ear as she did.

He really did look exhausted, like he'd drop at any moment. She'd never seen him like this before, and it worried her. Moreover, it made her angry. Just why had this supposed High Council been running him so ragged lately? Couldn't they ease up, just a little? He'd been working so hard over the past couple of weeks, doing everything he could to undo the damage caused when the seals had been released.

What more did they expect from him?

At length, Forneus spoke. "Truthfully, it's far too risky for my liking," he admitted, running his fingers along a knot in the nightstand. "But given the magnitude of the situation, we really don't have time to come up with another one."

This doesn't sound good, Gwen thought, biting her lip. After a moment's hesitation, she asked, "What's the plan?"

He stopped what he was doing and looked up at her, brow furrowed in thought. Gwen waited patiently, despite the persistent hammering of her heart against her breastbone. The fact that he was nervous certainly didn't help matters. If he—a powerful entity, capable of great feats of strength and magic beyond her wildest imaginings—was nervous, then just how should she feel?