Tidus shook his head vigrously at the mention of necromancy, "Oh no... though I know how I certainly do not practice such arts. Those that die have lived as long as they should. I mainly know the practices to be able to reverse the conditions. My mentor said the best way to fight something is to know it as well as those who practice it."

He carried on, "Since you have seen such things I will tell you while I do not practice necromancy I will need to call upon the spirit of the body to positively identify it. Just by the attempt I will beable to discover several things." he no longer smiled but had a serious mask over his normally jovial visage.

Upon reaching the door he looked to the Inspector, "I do trust that my secrets will be kept as confidential as any other matters." he looked at the other man expectantly have felt that he knew the true spirit of the Inspector since their conversation had begun.

Cerise watched Manly just walk away and started shaking. Her eyes glancing back and forth around the empty hall, knowing that it was never as empty as it seemed. Coat in hand from Dom before he grabbed the carriage she put it on and wrapped it tight around her. As if the cocooned cloth could comfort her in this time of change. It wasn’t as if much has changed on the outside of this house, but she could sense it in the air like a mouse sensing a great out about to sweep out of the sky.

Claire met her on the steps of the grand house looking at her through a sideways glance, “If you don’t mind Mi’lady, I would like to accompany you.”
Cerise just nodded, unable to speak, words caught in her throat her eyes focused securely on her feet. Once the carriage was in place for her she prepared for the trip and told the driver where to go. Safely inside the carriage door with her trusted handmaiden Cerise broke down and wept in her gloved hands, “Why did he have to kill himself?” She asked out loud to her self through her fingers. “Why was I never enough for anyone?”

Clair could do nothing to reassure her broken hearted mistress but place her own hand on Cerise’s back and rub it gently. She said nothing through pursed lips and felt the deep wrenching pain herself, fighting back her own tears towards pity of this woman.

The inspector felt somewhat relieved that Tidus was open with him. The young wizard alleviated his fears. Fabrice had forgotten it was possible for a wizard or cleric to channel the spirit of the dead in some way. He had suspected Tidus might try resurrecting the lord of the Dilysnia house. What a thought that was . . . the inspector recalled the witch rites and zombies of Mordevla with a shiver.

“Your secrets will remain between you and I. However,” the inspector cautioned, “if vital information is revealed, you do know we cannot act upon it as evidence? There are rules; the constabulary do not regard such practices as being in the community of scientific evidence.”

“But if you are successful, it will be interesting . . . and I suggest there may also be clues to other evidence.”

The inspector opened the door to room one-hundred-and-thirty-six, revealing a small, grey nondescript cell. As the portal drew back, they were greeted by the smell of the dead.

Harvold lay flat on a table, a bloodied white cloth over his stiff corpse.

Cerise spent about 10 min of the ride in the bumpy carriage crying softly, then the rest of the time getting help from Clair cleaning up. Clair was always two steps ahead in what needed to be done, now having been employed by the lady for years now.

The carriage pulled up to the front of the building all too soon. The only tell tale signed of the outburst is the red rim around her eyes and slight puffiness. The door opened and Clair stepped out before the lady to find someone to help them find the body of Cerise’s late husband, also to inquire on the whereabouts of Donavan and Tidus for Cerise’s emotional support, though she knew that Cerise would not act like they were helping her one bit.

Tidus nodded letting only a small portion of his smile through, "Of course we cannot act upon it. However to know of some threat that could be aimed at the house would be beneficial to me and perhaps the head advisor in gathering some... extra help. I do not wish for the next person to take claim to House Dilysnia to come to a similar fate. But I am getting ahead of myself."

As the door was opened he stepped in and the stench of death hit him as if he had run into a wall. Regaining his footing he plodded forward and set his bag upon the floor and opened it. The ever discreet house mage waited until the door was closed before taking out a few small items: a small blade with some sort of script upon the blade, a pouch, a candle, and a stone with an equally strange script letter engraved deeply into it.

He began to write with the contence of the pouch which appeard to be ash or some other finely granulated substance in the same script shown on the dagger and the stone. Next he set the candle upright and as he turned from it it sprang to life and soon a rather foul odor mixed with the room's already odiferous aroma.

| Once the noise simmered down, the dark haired beauty slowly began to take steps backward, her eyes skimming around the room for her tossed clothing. Her cheeks were burning a shade of red, her mind bubbling with thoughts, ones which she was trying to answer herself. Quickly her hands began snatching up her clothing, hands fumbling with the fabric as she began dressing herself, her nude skin once again being hidden from eye view. "How dare he lie about where you are!" huffed Bianca, "What will the Mistress say when she finds out that you are not where Manly said you'd be!?" she was frantic, hands having trouble with the buttons of her garments.|

*Donovan slowly followed her lead, while however admiring her naked form. Manly had just been cast aside by Cerise and expelled from the household. It was clear the woman would wield her iron fist if she gained control of the house. As Donovan slipped back into his clothes, he answered her rhetorical question with some chagrin, "I don't think she'll be pleased. But I honestly don't care right now, Bianca."

"If and when she finds out that Harvold has left her nothing, she will become an entity of some devastation."

Once she was fully clothed, she attempted to smooth out the wrinkles in the fabric of her attire. Fingers combed through her hair, the waves of black snaking in between her digits, her eyes looking over to Donovan, watching him as he covered up his body with his own clothing. A pout almost came to her lush lips, she actually liked Donovan better when he was nude! "I'm just afraid of what the Lady will say to you once she finds out you are not where Manly said you were." her hands pushed the massive mane of hair behind her shoulders. Bianca found herself fixing the wrinkles out of her lovers clothing, a worried look shadowing across her face.|

*Donovan manoeuvred himself to a mirror and smoothed down his suit. When satisfied, he looked over to the new love of his life. She was beautiful to behold, a dark and sensuous portrait of steepled maturity. “You are beautiful,” he declared.

But matters of practicality overrode affairs, the man of bearing returning to the familiarity of station. “Manly stood too tall this day. Harvold’s death could put Cerise well over the edge. I may be on the receiving end.”

| Bianca smiled, Donovan always flattered her! She cupped his hands between hers, lifting them to level with her mouth - she kissed the tips of his fingers lovingly. "Well, if you are going to be there when the gates of hell open, I'll be standing there along side with you." she paused for a moment, placing another kiss upon the tips of his fingers. "I feel as if part of this mess if my fault, since.. I kept you from attending to your duties." she nuzzled her cheek into the palm of his right hand.|

“My dear,” he stroked her warm cheek, his eyes level with her soul. “I’m glad. For if I were to leave, I did hope you would come with me.”

“It is not your fault. You freed us both,” he smiled. “I am glad what happened, has happened. It has given me, has given us, strength. Now should Cerise displace me, I care as much as Manly.”

| Her heart fluttered as Donovan spoke such sweet words with her. Bianca leaned forward, brushing her lips against Donovan's, "Of course I would follow you, Donovan, I'd follow you to the ends of the Earth if you went to them!" she threw her arms around him and hugged him firmly, pressing her body to his, loving the feeling. "But where would we go, where would we live? I don't have any living family. How about you, darling, do you have any family we could turn to? I would love to meet your mother!" she smiled.|

Nodding politely to the young man she steps outside and gathers Lady Cerise in the crook of her arm. Cerise still in despair and in doubt, quite a bit scared to see someone dead – even if it is her own husband.

Clair guides her up the stairs back into the room where the funny looking man is and smiles. “Lady Dilysnia to pay due respect to her late husband, if you please.” Cerise looked at Claire astonished, Claire almost could pass as noble blood herself at times, but the poor child was too naïve and too gentle in her ways.

Clair and Lady Dilysnia followed Nemier to the body that laid on the cold slab.

Lady Lokrien and Lord Disent materialized close to the morgue, on a unusued allyway. Promptly, Cordia released Deston's hand, her steps brisk as she exited the ally and entered the building.

The noblewoman waited at the empty front desk, her foot tapping against the floor.

Nemier didn't ask questions as he brought Cerise and Claire before door number one-hundred-and-thirty-six. He shuffled forward and up stairs without preamble. When they finally stood before the door, he politely knocked.

The portal drew back hesitantly, revealing a bemused and irritated inspector Farishel. "Yes?--Oh it's you Nemier."

The inspector could clearly see the two women standing beside the worker. He raised an eyebrow. "We're busy, who do we have here?" He didn't honestly know what Lady Cerise looked like, and was not intentionally disrespectful.

Nemier announced who it was however, and the inspector nearly jumped out of his skin. It was Harvold's wife. Tidus was inside with him, had confirmed Harvold's body and and was now deep into preparing a séance. It was the latter which struck horror into the inspector. If Lady Cerise knew of such an activity, it may appal and affront her.

He stepped outside and closed the door too slightly.

"Lady Cerise," he nodded respectfully and solemnly. "I am sorry for events, and that I was unable to contact you earlier."

* * * * *

Nemier, guiding Cerise and Claire to Harvold's body meant the front desk was presently unattended.

A fellow abattoir worker would pass however and enquire into Cordia's business. She looked to him like an affluent noblemwoman, her hair and features strikingly beautiful, but sadly out of place here.

"Can I help you?" he would ask.

Tidus continued his detailed ritual letting the Inspector handle the visitors. In the back of his mind he considered the possibility that the prodigal Cerise had indeed finally shown herself. It would figure, when things were bad this was the one way things could certainly get worse.

Suddenly frustrated with himself he furrowed his brow slightly and gave a quick shake of his head dismissing all the distracting thoughts that had suddenly popped up. Now he turned to his endevours with a new determination. He needed some truth here, for he knew that everything was not as it seemed.

* * * * *

Lord Disant, as soon as they appeared was a little taken aback, however it didn't keep him from following her brisk and direct route only a pace or two behind Lady Lokrien. Entering just behind her he managed to stave off the dizziness that seemed to prod at him as soon as he entered the place. He had experienced death first hand but never had he been so surrounded by it.

When there was no one present at the desk at first he wondered how many had come to see their loved ones or even come to see Harvold. He decided that those questions would be answered soon enough.

Cerise stopped at the door that contained death with-in and whimpered lightly. Tears brimmed on her eyes as she thought not of her bastard husband but the death, and cold bodies that seemed to call out and touch her face with a foul aroma that seeped through the door.

Claire looked at Cerise and nodded, patting her hand and letting her take all the time the woman needed. It will be a rough but steady road for Cerise now that her husband was officially gone. But things would mend soon enough and she predicted that Cerise would lock herself in her room for days while the mourning took place. The pity of Claire was misguided though, she could not see the terror of death but the relief of an ending that shot through Cerise’s mind.

Cerise’s hand opened the door and the odor embraced her, she took a couple of steps and images flashed in her mind. Tidus, candles, incense, odor, white fat naked body on the cold steel slab, cuts, knife, blood, screams of women, cruel laughter. Click, click, her mind began to shut down; one sentance escaped her lips as she fell on the ground - “Not the babies!” She was out like a light.

Claire rushed to Cerise’s body and began fanning her face looking in the direction of the strange men to give her some support. “Please, good gentleman – help me carry her to a quite room to restore her sense of mind, I dear say this all too much for Mi’Lady.” Her own doe brown eyes glanced around the scene wildly and quickly understood the dismay. “Please fetch Sir Donovan and Sir Tidus is you please, I am sure they will be needed when she comes to.” Her many years of service did not include the Dilysnia house, just the extended trips and she was uncertain who was who at this point. She wasn’t excused to go back home because of the utmost chaos that appeared when she arrived with Lady Cerise.

As Tidus summoned Harvold's spirit, with his energies taut with is urging of the ghost of Lord Dilysnia he senced the sudden pull of another force in direct opposition to his call. He braced himself on the table and spoke more commandingly.

Once things were completed, chants finished, and the pull now gone all there was left to do was wait. Harvold would come to his request he was sure, and now he knew someone was indeed behind this. This was one of many questions he had for the spirit though he knew only the most important would beable to be asked and answered in time. The rest would have to fall upon him to solve with clues that he was able to wrestled from the dead man.