Now endowed with a slight stroll, the two of them began to walk across the ballroom floor. The journey to a more isolated location proved to be one filled with nuance, the large clichés of nobles chatting with one another about the latest trends, or daring gossip about other nobles, this was mostly in the aim of more or less tarnishing their repute.
These groups were rather numerous, annoyingly so.
Lucias & Orvis would constantly have to maneuver past these like-minded sentinels of nobles.
It was humorous to watch.
It was a lively event, and yet, the red-haired youth had other plans rather than stirring its fancy. Lucias held a more insidious ploy—he opted to make this simple banquet the final resting place for Orvis.
With his hands resting lazed in his pockets, and standing straight with a firm gait, Lucias led the path toward the estate's back garden. Trailing behind like a dog would when taunted with a treat, was Orvis, oblivion and all.
'He must really be a fan!' Orvis was thrilled at the prospect of having such a high-class supporter. With his child-like train of thought, Orvis began to fantasize about his future. 'Am I going to be sponsored, ohhhh,' his thoughts were filled with giggles and goodwill toward his peer. Such fortune had turned his way, lady luck had finally responded towards his avid prayers!
"I think we're isolated enough," Lucias mumbled under his breath.
Providing his surroundings a quick glance, he made sure there was no bystander to witness his grievances.
Hiding a smirk under his features, Lucias shifted his body to face Orvis.
The two were now dead center within the estate's back garden.
Lush floral blushed with a dazzling array of chrome, heterochromatic energy sizzled though their vines, the air was filled with a sublime blue light that added a soothing ambiance.
The moon was blackened, the night sky's tapestry was filled with countless stars, each seemingly at war with one another, each in the pursuit of shining most valiant.
Admiring the botany, Orvis was momentarily distracted from reality.
"So, how does it look?" Lucias quickly asked, gesturing his white glove-clad hand towards the surroundings.
Snapped from momentary daze, Orvis spoke. "It's a genuine spectacle, umm, if I may ask," he hesitated for a moment, "How do those plants glow like that?" He pressed, wagging his finger toward a mass of gray glowing plants.
Nodding his head, Lucias rolled his eyes, annoyed by the simple-minded question. "They glow like that due to residual Will," he tapped his chin. "You could compare it to carbon dioxide for those normal boring plants." He pondered the question for several seconds. "In photosynthesis plants absorb CO₂ via the stoma, those small openings under the leaf, but with Will, adapted plants more or less use the Will of dead organisms, in a sense garnering it as their own to use as a source of energy. Pathetic creatures really." He sneered, the last tidbit of information left a bitter taste in the back of this throat.
Quickly grasping the concept, Orvis nodded in understanding. "So, those plants more or less act as a decomposer would for organic matter, and as a byproduct of an adapted plant it releases neutral Will or the glowing ethereal effect, correct?"
Lucias gave a half-hearted nod in response.
"So, that's why you use it for ornamental purposes, it's so cool." Orvis wisped rhetorically, marveling with a newfound spark in his eye. Orvis quickly manifested his Initial.
His Initial was in the shape of a small handheld notebook.
Extracting a pencil from his blazer's breast pocket, Orvis frantically began to jot down an array of musical notes.
His handwriting was surprisingly legible, given the sheer speed he was writing in. Across the quickly used sheets of paper, he constructed complex structures of musical orientations.
Once more the depths of his eyes told of obsession, and a type of mutiny.
His gaze lingered upon the paper of his notebook, this world didn't matter—this interaction with his peer of higher class, it didn't matter.
He… by no means, could allow this sliver of inspiration to dry up!!
"Yes, I see it now," he enamored, his voice trembling—tears of joy welled within his eyes, each drop threatening to push their elder.
Spilling from his eyes, were thin streams of warm liquid.
His look was similar to a mothers after giving birth to their kin.
"PERFECT!" he cried aloud, to his audience of one.
This was the simple inspiration he needed. How could he be so stupid!? It was such a simple calculus. Mother Nature, the simple fucking thing he needed to hone his work to that coveted perfection.
His work was perfect. No, he was perfect!
"This is art, my good friend Lucias!" snapping his attention affront, Orvis smiled warmly as he tied gazes with the person before him. "Fortunate to your goodwill I was able to reach an enlightenment of sorts." Without as much as a second thought, Orvis bowed deeply.
Staying in that ninety-degree posture for several seconds, Orvis fizzed his posture to his normal gait.
The youth's white bangs hollowed across his face. Noticing this unruly appearance, he quickly tucked his hair behind his ear.
Lucias watched him with an indiscernible expression. Involuntarily, his brow raised.
A sharp burst of wind howled through the small area. The gale prickled against their skin.
The pines swayed side to side in a gentle dance, completely against their will.
This whole scenery was negligible, but there was something amiss…
"Do you feel that?" Lucias questioned
Orvis's instinct began to flare in alarm, and quickly he nodded in response to the question.
The solid marble under their feet trembled and shook—The gale sharpened, that pricking sensation from earlier now felt more potent and untamed, the wind's howl raised several octaves.
The surrounding temperature dropped, but also oddly increased several degrees.
"What's going on!?" Orvis quickly spat, petrified by nature's quick change.
Lucias's earlier plans of killing Orvis were quickly discarded, the gun veiled under his vest no longer mattered. He shivered as a massive surge of adrenaline spiked within him.
Both of their respective pupils shrank into the size of needles.
"L-Lets run back into the estate!" Lucias barked more aggressively than intended.
Fortunately, Orvis was a fool with such social cues, so the aggression was quickly dismissed as the norm.
Orvis nodded meekly. "Okay,"
~~~
~~~
~~~
With their arrival back into the ballroom, the two were faced with a room plunged into confusion.
That blithe, untroubled atmosphere that had filled the room earlier, was now replaced with the disarray of a hundred or so discomposed nobles.
"What in the bloody hell is going on out there, George!" came the loud, grizzled tone of a plump nobleman, yelling to his attendant.
From the looks of it, the poor man was clearly experiencing balding. His face was fat and pudgy, with his man tits bulging from the thin regal cloth he stubbornly attempted to dress in.
"Sir, I lack the knowledge to answer your question—"
Slap!
The attendant's head snapped to the left, a pinkish hand-shaped mark inflating on his face.
An embarrassing brand.
Paying no heed to the exaggerated gasps of the surrounding nobles, the pudgy man glared at his attendant. "Are you really that incompetent!? I, as your master, asked you a simple question. What is going on!" he barked, his face red with barely controlled anger.
Watching this event from a distance, Orvis shuddered as he rested his palm against his face, reeling from phantom pain.
Seeing the sigh, Lucias sneered.
Such a pathetic display.
Clink…Clink…Clink!
"Attention! Attention, everyone!" came the loud, indignant voice of the patriarch. Seeing as the majority of nobles have hushed their stirred discord, he spoke, "For a final time, thank you for attending my humble party. But there has been a shift of events, so I'll have to conclude this year's Moon-Light-Ball."
None of the nobles, with the exception of a few, displayed their displeasure openly. Even though this sudden change of events sucked, they were not children who would grovel over the slightest perversion of their routine.
Keep in mind, this was true for most nobles, but even the indignant, ill-mannered ones would shun in fear when faced with the patriarch.
He was a ruthless man—those who didn't know their place would taste their own blood, as he bashed their head in, or quickly make their family disappear at a mere whim.
"Once more, I am sorry for the abrupt change." He paused, giving his words a more theatrical weight. "But would you all please find the exit of my estate."
~~~
~~~
~~~
The majority of Nobles kept hushed voices as they exited the ballroom's proximity, fearful of facing the wrath of patriarch's disdain.
Such a fear was unfounded—unreasonable, even—but none wanted to take the unnecessary risk.
Entering a black "Cubi" ornamented with golden regal embroidery, Orvis kept the vehicle's door ajar, curtsying a final au revoir to Lucias. Before he disappeared behind the solid black door of the Cubi.
Lucias merely gestured a wave, much to his displeasure.
'Why didn't I kill him?' He mused to himself.
He had several god-sent opportunities to draw the gun, squeeze his trigger finger—Bang, Bang—and Orvis' quick, painless death.
No groveling, no unnecessary filth, no stains, and hardly any clean up.
With a flick of his finger, he could have erased their Will signatures with the influx of residue energy in the garden, feeding his festering corpse to the plants…
That would be all.
'Sigh,'
No need to ponder over past mistakes.
Such matters were idle waste. He had plenty of future opportunities to annex his desire.
"Young master," came the soft, practiced tone of a mature woman.
Casting a side-eyed glance, Lucias saw his personal attendant—a woman dressed in a noir two-piece gown. Her shiny onyx hair was pulled back in a bun, and her expression was completely professional. Not a trace of emotion betrayed her face.
"The Master would like to speak with you in private." She uttered the words evenly, then after a pause continued. "Ah, and the Master informed me that it's not about your childish personal vendetta against the piano boy." She performed a slight bow before taking her leave.
She had more important matters to attend to.
"Tch, so annoying" he muttered, averting his gaze downward.
He clenched his hands, rigid by his sides