Part 4: As the Ashes Die
The floors echoed hollowly beneath Bart's boots as he raced down the mausoleum corridors blindly. He had no idea where he was going, merely choosing his path by instinct. Behind him came the sounds of shouting. Fei, Elly, Margie and Billy all calling his name, searching desperately through the tomb laden hallways for the wayward prince under some mysterious influence. But, they wouldn't understand. They couldn't hear the voice, couldn't feel that pleading. Bootheels scuffed along the floor as he brought himself to a sudden halt, turned and raced down the next chosen corridor. This place was far larger than he ever imagined, even though he and Margie used to explore it during their childhood days. Did they ever go this far? He couldn't remember, now.
Margie was nearly frantic, holding onto Billy's hand so tightly he had to eventually jerk it free. That and she was practically dragging him along behind her. They split off from Fei and Elly initially, each heading a different direction in hopes that two groups might locate Bart faster than one. Though the former Etone held a pistol at the ready, nothing leapt out to attack them. That faint stench that warned him of death, however, and kept his hackles up, vigilant while Margie merely surged forward, taking heed of nothing. One of them, at least, had to be alert. He couldn't help but at least feel a touch of guilt for the situation. If he hadn't refused to speak to Bart, perhaps someone would have noticed his odd behavior sooner and somehow stopped him. If he hadn't continued to deny his own sins, then perhaps this would not have come down to a game of cat and mouse.
But, what ifs weren't going to keep up with Margie. She had already gotten half a length of hallway ahead of him and Billy quickened his pace to catch up to her again, shoving his thoughts aside to concentrate on the moment. Echoing her, he called out Bart's name to the left, as she did so to the right. A futile gesture, but shouting at least relieved some of the tension and it seemed the right thing to do.
Sigurd appeared out of nowhere, nearly colliding with Margie at the next intersection of corridors. She squeaked aloud, flailing her arms to keep her balance only for a dark hand to reach out and grasp her shoulder to steady her. "Margie... Billy. Get out of here, I know where Bart is." He gave them no time for argument, handing the Nisan Mother over to Billy before starting down the corridor again, long legs moving with a stride that would be difficult to keep up with. Margie frowned as Billy tried to draw her away, back the way they came and she pushed away from him, determined to disobey her cousin and followed anyway, going by the sound of his footfalls when it was clear he'd gotten too far ahead of them.
Billy followed without trying to stop her. Not because he wanted to disobey Sigurd, but because he too was curious. He wanted to know what demon possessed Bart to carry on like this. No, that wasn't really it. Billy just wanted to know that Bart was going to be all right, that cold pit inside of his stomach would not go away until he could absolve himself of his guilt, whether it was warranted or not. So he followed right along behind the two Fatimas, one of the unlucky ones to view the sight that awaited them.
It was at Edbart IV's tomb that they finally halted, all the way at the end of the Mausoleum. Each new King meant another second of earth was dug out for a new tomb. The beginnings of one had been begun for Bart, now that he had assumed the throne. Billy only prayed they would not need to make use of it already. The door to the tomb itself was open, but not smashed in as if Bart had knocked it down, it was exploded outward, as if something had broken it from within. He barely caught a flash of silver hair and white tassels disappearing through the door as he and Margie came upon it. Fearless as always, the Nisan Mother wasted no time or breath in following her older cousin inside and Billy wasn't about to let her go in alone.
Inside, the stench of death was so thick Billy had to lift a hand to his nose. Margie was overcome by it nearly immediately, turning a definite shade of green. Sigurd seemed to take it in stride, angrily gesturing for Margie to get back, glaring at Billy for not following orders and getting her out of the Mausoleum. The strange whip in his hand glowed faintly, illuminating the darkness just barely. "Bart?" he called, but only once Billy had grabbed Margie's arm and taken her to the doorway. "I know you're here. I can feel you, brother."
"Can't you hear him, Sigurd?" came the raspy, quiet reply.
"Hear who, Bart. Talk to me, where are you? I'm getting you out of here."
Light filled the room then as dormant torches came to life of their own accord, and Margie screamed despite herself. The entire room was a massive pit of molded mud, the walls caked with it and the ceiling dripped it down toward the floor like congealed condensation. Pressing himself into the doorway entirely, the former Etone blocked Margie out of the room, looking above his head in a paranoid fashion to make sure none of the ooze was coming down toward him. Sigurd made a face, but his eye scanned the room for one thing in particular, his brother, trying hard to ignore what else he noticed.
Covered from nearly head to toe in the disgusting slime, Bart sat next to the crypt that stored his father's corpse. Chest heaving with all the running and his vain efforts to get the lid off the crypt, he could only sit there and stare out at nothing in particular. Even as Sigurd quietly called his name and slowly approached the king, he could only sit there, too exhausted to fight being lifted off the ground and hefted into the tall man's arms, though his body shuddered at the empathic touch that linked him to his brother. It was the only thing that saved from from the swirling insanities being whispered to him, claiming to be his father, threatening to suck him down into darkness.
"Shhh, Bartolomei. I'm here, and nothing is going to hurt you so long as I live," Sigurd said quietly, backing out of the room as he kept an eye out above and all around. Whatever wanted his brother to come here would surely make its presence known if he tried to remove the youth from the room. Billy kept his pistol brandished as Sigurd continued the slow progression to the door, stepping aside at the last moment to let both brothers out.
A voice wailed abjectly as the torches simultaneously extinguished, hissing and sending an acrid scent of smoke through the broken door. Sigurd's eye widened, lips parting as his jaw dropped slightly. He felt it, beyond the strange emotions that he garnered from Bart, he felt that call, that pleading need, begging him to release Bart and let him back into the room. Determination furrowed silver brows together. It would be a cold day in hell before Yggridsil's first mate let his only brother go back into a mire pit like that. "Come on, let's go. We'll come back later to see what to do about cleaning this up." It was his father's final resting place, after all, and seeing it so defiled made his blood boil.
"How is he?" Sigurd was the first to ask a question that occupied everyone's minds as Citan exited the bedroom where Bart had been taken to be cleaned up. Adjusting his glasses, the good doctor smiled in a manner that suggested all was right with the world, even if that wasn't quite the case.
"He's exhausted, but appears to be physically fine otherwise. I have no idea what may be affecting his mind, however, and we won't know that until he wakes up."
Tension alleviated slightly, everyone in the room shifted a bit. The entire group had assembled, just waiting to find out how Bart faired. Sigurd, playing spokesperson for the moment, nodded at the response. Not entirely satisfactory, but far better than what the situation could have been. "Thank you, Hyu. Maison and I will be transporting him back to Aveh in the morning. I would prefer to keep him as far from the Mausoleum as possible." He also intended to spend the night at his brother's bedside, just to make sure nothing attempted to call for the king in the middle of the night. Turning toward the group, he gestured for them to go, "Let's get some rest everyone, excitement is over I think."
Though Margie, Fei and Elly left with murmurs of agreement, probably to talk amongst themselves outside, Billy lingered behind, approaching Sigurd as the taller man spoke quietly with Citan. Clearing his throat to get both their attention, he said, "I'd like to go back with you to Aveh."
Sigurd paused to hear this, a silver brow lifting at the request. "If you wish to, Billy. You are always welcome. But, is there any reason for it?"
The swirl of emotions inside of the former Etone gave him away without his knowledge, "Not really... I just.. we had a bit of an argument before all of this happened and--"
Sigurd interrupted with a chuckle, reaching over to ruffle the youth's hair even as Billy tried to duck out from under his hand. "I understand. I'm sure Bart doesn't blame you for anything, but you're still free to accompany us back to Aveh if you wish it."
"Thank you," Billy said with a touch of an embarrassed smile and without further ado, he departed the room to pack some of his belongings and get some sleep before the trip to Aveh in the morning. In his wake, however, Sigurd rubbed his chin thoughtfully, looking back at Citan again, who was similarly perplexed.
"There is something going on there, Hyu. And I'm not quite sure if it's a good thing or not."
"Sigurd, just let it run its course," the doctor chuckled softly, patting his friend's shoulder. "After all, you and I had our moments at their age."
"Indeed."