The sky was a swath of beautiful colors, radiant Blues and white's gently encompassed by the earth below it, With calming greens of the grass and the leaves of the trees, with the brown of bark and soil. All of them illuminated by the glorious sunlight on high, adding warmth, and light to this picturesque landscape. For all it brought about a sense of content, beautiful, and for some nobles, alarming contentment with their current life, As students, and servants both.
All, save for one.
As Izaneus had found the demise of his father, he began relentlessly searching for where. Missing sleep, food and people as the days passed him by.
Numerous times Siesta, and Louise both had tried to pry him from the begotten staff. Each attempt slowly becoming more and more fruitless.
"Your stomach is growling! When's the last time you've eaten?" Louise demanded angrily, becoming quite frustrated with her… familiar's. Lack of self preservation, whenever something vexed him. To which he had no other recourse, or care, but to answer the following
" I hadn't, and I won't, until I discover what I need." His voice was cold, devoid of life, and tired beyond belief. Stubborn, and blinded by grief. It was nothing she would understand anyway, how could she? He hadn't even tried to talk about it. To them, he simply just decided to recluse himself from the world
She recognized the pattern. It was a horrid darkness, a depression of the soul, it had taken to Louise herself on numerous occasions, and how he was acting now was a defense mechanism, had she been as cold back then? Had she been as uncaring? Those thoughts stifled others with plans to help Izaneus. Leaving her silent to his statement, leaving him to believe the conversation was over.
"I do apologize, master, but I find myself tiring of conversation." He spoke, spitting the word master, a provocation she knew. One she wouldn't fall to, it was, frankly, the worst attempt at provocation he could have made, with what Louise endured, and had experienced thus far, with all she'd learned this past month.
It would take far, far more to earn a rise out of her.
Yet just because she didn't react, didn't mean she didn't feel. Inside she was feeling horrible for being unable to help the man who quite literally handed her magic on a silver platter. Even guided her through it, it's mysteries that made her head spin with endless possibilities.
Yet, here he was, and she knew she could only be there for him when he wanted to help himself, and nothing more.
And that hurt. More than any Blade or Spell.
If nothing more, she wished he would speak about what it was that haunted him so. One day Izaneus had entered the Vault, shocked, silent, Louise had inquired then, what it was that drew his gaze to the floor. He hadn't answered then, just as he deflected now. Shirking her attempts to console and aid, and returning her concern with Vitriol.
It had taken a few days for it to manifest to its current state. But all Izaneus did of late was leave notes occasionally, and then spend the day with that staff. It wasn't some obsession with the object itself no, Siesta had seen such obsessions manifest, and..
They both could only attribute it to. Something darker.
Siesta, as versed in the mind as she was, was only recently beginning to make progress in reading the thoughts of another.
"Why is it you're so fixated on this staff? Why is it that you refuse to talk to me?" She questioned softly, recognizing the pain behind his eyes.
To this, Izaneus had no response, no comeback to get her to leave him alone.
He had nothing to say, so he said nothing at all, as he turned away, heading back to his small study area in the library. Where he'd also been frequenting of late.
She sighed, it felt as though things had changed overnight… but she didn't know what. Or how.
A sigh of frustration escaped her mouth as she moved to head to the courtyard, she intended to practice with Kirche how to cast efficiently in combat, and she planned to school the Zerbst. Hopefully it would allow for some well deserved stress-relief.
On the flipside, Izaneus was a torrent of negative emotions, guilt, despair, anger, and he could make sense of none of it. His eyes seemingly glazed over as he pored through the different tomes, while his new goal was not to escape. But to find, and avenge his father at all costs.
What was before, a simmering ember of pain, had grown exponentially. Throwing his emotions and mind both into complete disarray. He wanted to apologize to Louise, but how could he? He'd spoken his mind. The guilt in his chest grew tighter, contracting his ability to focus on...
Everything seemed to slow down as he recognized the portrait in the tome he read.
His eyes seemed to focus heavily on the next photograph, his teeth clenched and his fist grew tighter.
That was the very same portrait of the last memory he saw, before witnessing his fathers death.
Izaneus took deep breaths, in a vain effort to calm himself. He snatched the book from his table, and stormed to the Tristainian vaults. His eyes twitched with sustained passion, and… a myriad of other emotions he didn't know how to handle.
He would make sure, at least, to determine if it truly was what he remembered. A part of him hoped it wasn't, a part of him wished it was.
Yet as he entered the vault doors for the last time in a long while, he could not have imagined the Journey he would undertake.