Black Butler: Let the Monster Rise
There had to be something.
Sebastian had been searching the ruins of the old mansion for the longest time; ever since the new mansion had been rebuilt as a replica of the original. All this time, he had been hunting down clues that would bring him closer to the ones responsible for the tragedy that happened two years ago, and he'd found nothing as of yet that could possibly narrow down the suspects.
It had gotten to the point where Sebastian was on his hands and knees as he searched every square inch of the pile of rubble he came across. He didn't care if he'd searched the same pile five times already. Nowhere he searched before had brought up better results. No one he had asked all over England new a damn thing about who might be responsible for the fire that killed Vincent Phantomhive and his wife Rachel. Nobody knew who was responsible for kidnapping Ciel afterwards. Nobody knew anything!
Sebastian took a deep breath through his nose, trying to pick up a scent; any scent that wasn't that of rain-soaked wood or charred roof tiles. On two occasions he caught a whiff of a rodent or some dead animal – things that were insignificant and wouldn't help him.
There had to be something, something small that he was overlooking. He decided to examine the rubble more thoroughly, picking up each individual piece and scanning it with his eyes and nose, searching for something – even if it was microscopic – that was out of place. He knew very well that not everything was completely destroyed in any fire. There's always something left behind, and so long as there was something left behind, there was enough evidence for Sebastian. The only bad thing about that was finding that evidence was like trying to find a needle in a haystack.
Sebastian searched the remains of the old manor in segments; the ballroom, the parlor, the library, the study, and the drawing room. From everything he'd been able to gather thus far, he knew that the fire had been started when a flammable substance had been ignited in the parlor and the library. The dog, Sebastian, had been killed first so the person responsible could avoid being caught by the creature's barking. And, somehow, the butler was able to figure that the attacker hadn't been alone; as in there was someone who had been in charge of murdering the earl and his wife while someone else started the fire. The only thing he had to do was get names and faces so he could hunt them down.
During his search, Sebastian found himself being brought back to the same pile of rubble. It was one that he had already searched through piece by piece and one that he was sure contained no significance in terms of providing him with clues or answers. But he had learned a long time ago that he should trust his instincts and he started to sift through the rubble once more.
Burnt wood, broken glass, the charred remains of what used to be expensive carpets or rugs – all of them were bits of trash he'd seen, examined, and thought had no significance in putting this puzzle together. That changed, though, when he'd noticed something stuck to a bit of wood. When he first picked it up, he dismissed it as a mere feather; one that could have come from a bird passing by. But as he looked at it, Sebastian began seeing things that made this feather stand out from that of an ordinary bird. It was large, nearly as big as his hand. He tried to take in the scent.
Rain . . . Soil . . . Charred wood . . . Burnt rugs . . .
Sebastian resorted to desperate measures. He stuck the feather into his mouth and rolled it around with his tongue and began sorting through the other scents, as in his demonic form his tongue worked a lot like that of a snake's; sensitive to smell.
Little animals . . . Insects . . .
Sebastian paused and ran his tongue over the feather once more.
Angel. This feather smelled like an angel, and to a demon that was not a good thing. It had come from an angel. But which one?
Sebastian spat the feather back out into his hand. Rolling it in his mouth had taken away the dirt that had been covering it, revealing a crisp, white color. He stared at it a while, trying to place a face and name. He did come across this angel's scent before, but who was it?
A howl from the other side of the property made Sebastian wrinkled his nose in disgust. Pluto, the demon hound, had only been living at the manor for a few months, and he was more trouble than Mey-rin, Finny, and Bard put together. He still wished Ciel hadn't accepted Angela's offer to bring him here. In fact, the mongrel still smelled like Angela . . .
And then it clicked.
Sebastian took another whiff of the feather to confirm his suspicions. It was her, all right. This feather belonged to the angel Angela.
He would've been fine leaving it at that, but Sebastian knew the occupation of almost every immortal in England, and Angela happened to be affiliated with Ashe Landers, who was also an angel that worked for Queen Victoria as a butler; the queen Ciel was the loyal watchdog to.
Poking around some more within the piles, he found a bit of carpeting that still had blood on it; the blood of Vincent and Rachel Phantomhive. It too had Angela's scent on it. Everything was making sense to him. The queen must have ordered the deaths of the earl and his wife and for the estate to be burned down, and it was Ashe and Angela who carried out the dirty work.
Sebastian couldn't help but smirk.
"This is going to be interesting to explain to the young master."