170 Much Ado About Loves Woes (1/2)
The skies above Itroch shuddered ominously with a soft, crimson glow that was unmistakably unnatural. Far above the heads of Reed's group, spatial distortions could be seen with the naked eye that even mortals would have been able to identify.
It was dark outside. That was not normal, especially since they had begun their mission near midday. There was a mysterious spatiotemporal anomaly present within the city's confines that had imposed permanent darkness upon it. The only natural source of illumination was the beautifully ominous blood-red nebula that hung above Itroch...
Were it not for the dreadful association the color had with the cursed fissure below, Reed would have gladly enjoyed the sight of the peculiar celestial phenomenon.
”The reports mentioned this anomalous distortion, but I didn't that it would actually end up being so pretty,” said Ophelia as she directed a little caravan of floating drones to record the night sky.
When one of her drones accidentally bumped into Horatio's head, he said, ”Careful, Phi. These suits are durable and the mission's exploratory in nature, but that doesn't mean you can afford to get careless.”
”Sorry, sorry... I just got a little excited. It's just that, well... we're the first people to be allowed to enter Itroch after it got locked down a year ago. I couldn't help myself...”
She had not come emptyhanded, unlike Astor and Horatio who had only come in pressurized environmental suits designed for extremely hazardous situations in the Shadowlands. It was an uncommon thing for Chosen, who were almost impervious to all manner of afflictions, to don such protective gear.
Only 'Abyssal Divers,' Chosen who had elected to specialize their efforts in the field of artefact acquisitions -- hunting for artefacts -- wore such equipment, and only when it was necessary. These fearless tomb raiders were the only people who had the cojones to venture deep into the Shadowslands, where the Infested miasma was concentrated enough to poison even veteran Chosen, in pursuit of untouched technological caches to plunder...
Ophelia had brought a mobile laboratory of sorts along with her in order to record, collect, and analyze anything that could lead her and her fellow colleagues aboard the Spirit of Bountiful Charity towards finding a cure for the Itroch syndrome case.
Reed calmly observed the pair in the distance and then whispered to Astor, ”...Hey. Uh, I'm not one to pry into matters that aren't mine, but are those two... um, you know...”
Astor softly chuckled and said, ”It's more complicated than a simple yes or no answer, but yeah. Not that they've explicitly made it... official, so to speak.”
”Complicated? For them? I mean, those two are clearly...”
Reed shrugged his shoulders in confusion and said, ”That sounds like horseshit.”
Lu'um chimed in and said, ”Yes, that indeed does sound like horseshit.”
”So, what, I am to believe that they are unable to enter a relationship with one another because of two bickering man-children? Are you sure this isn't the plot for some bargain-credit romance novel? Get real.”
”I know it's a shit situation, but there's nothing we can do about it. I'd love to play the part of the royal cupid, but my family has no power over civil cases like these. In any case, even if we did, it'd still be a shitty situation. The royal family has long kept out of the affairs of its vassals, the noble families, in return for their unwavering loyalty. How they handle matters in their domains and between themselves has always been a matter out of our jurisdiction.
For me -- or rather, the royal family -- to intervene in matters that have historically not been under our authority would be a breach of the unspoken agreement we made long ago.”
”In essence, you don't want to pick at a hornet's nest you allowed in your backyard a while back,” said Reed. He was sympathetic to Astor's concerns, but at the same time, found it laughably ridiculous that a family that had been backed by the Dreaming Council still had to compromise in the end.