A/N: Hwello! This is the first part of the double update. I'll be posting the second part in a couple of hours, so look out for it! ^0^/ after all, we don't want to be held in suspense, do we? :') hehe
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He stepped out into the night
Flew up and high, out of sight
Hard to see, hard to find
Never knowing what was blind.
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She drew a bath and disappeared beneath the surface, leaving the chaos of the world far behind as she dived into a deadly peace. All noise ceased to exist as soon as water filled her ears, drowning every whisper of the universe that pounded in her head. The phoenix searched—in the darkness of closed eyes, along with the lack of sound—for a lead that would suffice.
Where the waters were unknown in the minds of those whom she'd ever searched, Jing found that Reux Yvone had not such foreign waters; in fact, he had not waters at all. She had dived into a well of ink.
Jet black pigment that latched onto her skin and seeped into her flesh, tainting and corrupting that which lay within, untouched. Its tendrils reached for anything within its grasp, leaving nothing untainted and at the same time, miraculously, retaining a form of purity. The purity of an abyss.
Complete darkness.
In it, the phoenix could not seek an opening. There was simply no direction in Reux's head; no surface in his stream of rationality. Nowhere for her to start.
The touting of her efforts was beginning to seem a little unsettling. She considered the prospect of him having crafted a wall (one that was stronger than her ability to see) or some sort of sorcerous ink that obscured her vision, enhanced by witchcraft—forbidden.
Both appeared equally unlikely.
Returning to the darkness, she sought a final reason that nagged in her cage, quietly disturbing. It fell in whispers like the rain, merging with the body of ink that engulfed her body. Reluctant and with mild pause, she entertained the dull, unpolished thought of nocturnality.
Hardly did this ever happen; this inky darkness of the soul that prevented the search for depth and memory. As the keeper of diurnals, Jing was entitled to sail every sea, cross every ocean and dive into waters unknown until her knowledge was certain and vision complete.
This was the purpose of her Vantage, and to not be able to fulfil it was puzzling if not downright dubious.
The inexplicable phenomenon of a vision—blind and completely obscured—could only be explained by an unlikely conjecture that required a tremendous leap from one premise to another and that was nocturnality.
Reux was not diurnal.
He could have been hiding every feature of his true identity, cloaked beneath the shadows whilst crafting one scheme after another, plan after plan, act after act that served one ultimate end: now.
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