Chapter 4: Virgil

Jesse…?

I stared at 'Virgil.' He finally put both feet on the ground and walked toward me. I evaluated him quickly.

His clothes weren't too unusual. Well, not for me at least. His billowy shirt, traveling pants, and boots wouldn't have been entirely out of place back in the 1800's. They just looked very new, as if he had never actually traveled in them. On top of his head of golden red hair was a jaunty red beret, stuck with a black feather like a large hat pin. The thing in his right hand was a flute of some sort.

'Red eyes. The eyes of Death himself.'

I remembered Dr. Slaski's vital words and looked at Virgil's eyes. Er, eye. I suddenly noticed he wore a patch over his right eye. The other was emerald green.

He wasn't Death.

But I was fairly sure he wasn't 'Virgil' either. Not the one Dante was talking about anyway. This guy reminded me of the Cheshire Cat more than anything else with the way he was grinning at me. Whoever he was, I had to keep my guard up. I asked quickly, "Where's Paul?"

Virgil tilted his head, "The other guy? Oh, don't worry. He's not dead or anything." Looking up at the sky, as if searching for Paul there, he continued absently, "Sent back. Can't come in this way unless you have the Gods' Favor."

"Favor?"

"Yes, Favor. That," he said pointing to the necklace with his flute, "is the Gods' Favor. Very few are in rotation." He wiggled his fingers up and down as if counting and added, "Well, none exactly, unless you count this exception. And what an exception it is!" He laughed and spun around on one foot.

He was acting suspiciously like Dr. Slaski was a few moments ago. I started to doubt his sanity.

My skepticism about having 'the favor of the gods' must've shown since Virgil stopped his twirling to smirk and say, "Gods, demons, jackasses… they get called many things, but they are there. Depending on how you look at it, of course. Who created whom and all that rot. But enough of that!" He clapped his hands together and pointed his flute at me, beaming, "That's a different story! Ours starts now! All you need to know is that I, Virgil, am honor-bound to guide you by the Favor of the Gods. Where would you like to go?"

The magic question. "I need to find someone: Susannah Simon. She was, er, taken here, I was told."

"Susannah Simon? Simon Susannah? Susannah, Susannah…" Virgil paced tightly before stopping to ask, "The shifter girl?"

"Yes! Where is she?"

"Not here, not here…" he echoed himself, looking outwards away from me and the gate. He looked over his shoulder to remark, "Hmm, Death took her, yes? Then shouldn't she be out of reach already? Over the river and through the woods?"

"But she isn't dead back on the other side!" I said vehemently. It couldn't be too late already.

"She isn't? That's amazing!" He looked very surprised. Although, Virgil seemed like the type to be surprised that his own head was screwed on. However, he suddenly frowned. "Wait a moment. That is amazing." Brow knitted, Virgil appeared to be mentally working out something which bothered him quite a bit, as he began pacing again while chewing on his thumbnail. But before I could ask him what was wrong, he broke out into a grin again.

"Someone's reaching out of their jurisdiction!" he said in a sing-song voice. It sounded oddly sinister coming from him.

I had a bad feeling about this.

"So can you help me then?" I asked cautiously. Even though Virgil didn't seem entirely reliable, I had no choice. Paul was gone and I didn't know what to expect in this place – Nyx, I think he called it.

Virgil stroked his chin in thought. "Help? Maybe. Depends on your definition of help. I am honor-bound to guide you, not help you. Although I have to admit, this may be one delightful adventure to partake in! I too am curious about this breach in contract." Before I could ask what he meant, he turned to look me straight in the eyes.

Literally. Virgil's face was less than a foot away from mine. It was very unnerving, but I couldn't look away. His glassy green eye seemed terribly unnatural as its stare held me, searching. It felt like a test of some sort.

Thankfully, he broke whatever connection he had to me and retreated back a step. As I wondered why I felt so dizzy, Virgil nodded as if he saw something he expected. "I will help you, Jesse de Silva. First, we must solve the mystery as to why the shifter girl isn't dead. And the only place to find that out is to ask Thanatos himself."

When I steadied myself, I managed to ask, "How did you know my name?"

Virgil explained simply, "I looked inside. Very interesting place, that." He tapped his own head for emphasis. "You've been in existence for a good 170 years, by your realm's time. Amazing for a mortal." The fascination in his voice was distinct as he continued to stare at me with his single glassy eye.

I decided to change the subject. Realizing that Virgil had been scanning my mind was unsettling. Instead, I tried to keep track of the cluttered information he was spouting. "Thanatos… Wait, I thought Death took her."

"Thanatos is Death, silly. Don't you listen? A rose by any other name still has its thorns. So! We shall venture to the abode de Thanatos!" But as he turned away from me, he said in a sudden grim tone, "Although I do warn you: Nyx is vast and unforgiving at times. Particularly since our journey will take us to the river."

Surprised at this change in mannerism, I asked, "What's wrong with the river?"

"Nothing at all. It's what's around it that you should worry about." The playful lilt in his voice was back. Virgil flashed me a brief grin before disappearing into the fog, "Follow me please!"

I ran to catch up to with him… only to run into his shoulder right after stepping in. I almost fell backwards, but Virgil – or his back, which was all I could see of him – remained standing sturdy. "Why did you stop?" I asked, a bit annoyed.

The peculiar man laughed, "Because I didn't want you to die." Virgil waved his arm at the wall of fog and it sank into the ground.

Or what I thought was the ground.

The stone gate, Virgil, and I were all perched on the overhanging ledge of a high cliff. The receding clouds of white descended into the fathomless ravine below, revealing a path ahead etched into what appeared to be… well, junk. The landscape beneath our feet seemed to be nothing but rusted pieces of metal. Cans, bicycles, sinks, and old pipes were all welded together at odd angles to make extremely treacherous-looking ledges, bony fingers reaching out from the more stable mound of rubbish and far too thin to possibly support us, much less the Gate.

And sure enough, right in front of us was nothing but air. Another step and we would've fallen. To emphasize the point, Virgil kicked a hubcap off the side. I didn't hear it hit the bottom.

"Nombre de Dios," I breathed, looking over the edge. A few more shards tumbled into the abyss, and I took a cautious step back.

"Sorry for the mess," said Virgil as he made a 90 degree turn and nonchalantly strolled towards the main ground. He continued to kick loose debris over the edge as he talked, "Things are always a bit muddled when people first get here."

I quickly followed him to get to land that wasn't defying the laws of gravity. "What do you mean by 'people'? I thought you said I was an exception."

"Oh, you are," he assured me as we made it off the ledge, much to my relief. "You're still solid, aren't you? But that means you can get hurt here too. Varying degrees of the Three Part Rule and all that." Without so much as a pause, he continued to lead me away from the gate.

Although Virgil seemed intent on leaving this place as soon as possible, I took in as much as I could of my strange surroundings. As far as I could tell, the odd metallic landscape continued rolling outward from the gate. Large sheets of metal were stuck awkwardly into the rubble-strewn land, looking much like a modern artist's most recent pieces, but blades of grass were hopefully popping up between bottles and door knobs farther out as we walked.

I was nearly jogging to keep up when I remembered what Paul and Dr. Slaski had said. "Mind, body, and soul…" I recounted aloud.

Virgil continued on at a brisk pace, but turned around backwards to speak to me at the same time. Somehow, he still managed not to trip over the haphazard piles of scrap metal. "You know of it? Then you really are a special one, aren't you?" He looked very pleased, "Spirits and dreamers are almost the same dilution of the three parts. You're still you, but less than usual."

I halted for a split second, "Dreamers?"

Virgil stopped to wave his finger at me in a chiding fashion. "What did you think Nyx was?" He produced a coin from behind his ear and flipped it in the air. Catching it between his middle and index finger, the side shown to me was not a former president's profile, but the capital 'H' surrounded by a laurel of feathers. "This is the Land of Dreams, Mr. de Silva. If you're lucky, we won't have to venture into the other half." Virgil made an about face and kept walking towards greener pastures.

Author's Notes: Late because I was reading Yakitate Japan. But just as a warning, this story gets pretty strange. If Jesse's character seems a bit... off, it's because we (the readers of the Mediator) haven't really seen those characters in any other setting besides Carmel so I'm struggling a bit to make Jesse's reaction to these weird new places natural.

But enough about my writing ordeals, I just hope you people enjoy the fic to some degree. See you next week.