It was an odd case no matter how he tried to look at it.
The affected party in question somehow didn’t know anything about his daughter except for the fact that he had a daughter.
His guess was as good as any, which was that he had no idea.
But no one was as convincing as Leokhares without some sort of truth to their delusions so Alex thought it best not to throw the case under the rug just yet.
In the first place, Eventide was a place where the supernatural abounded.
The chances that Niobe’s disappearance was mystically charged were quite high.
Pursing his lips, Alex looked down at Leokhares’ statement while seated in his study.
Next to the statement on the table were the items Leokhares’ had left behind.
There was a little girl’s dress along with a pair of dirty ballet shoes, a textbook titled History of Truth, Thirty-First Edition, and a necklace that was basically just a rope with a coal pendant.
Then, opening the first page of the textbook, Alex read what was written on it.
’From a father who wishes for nothing but the best for his daughter, Niobe.’
Alex let out a deep sigh as he knew he was in for a ride.
He closed the book and picked up a diary from the drawer underneath his desk.
Most of it was already filled up so he flipped to the last page.
Then, utilizing the same quill and ink bottle Leokhares had used to write his statement, Alex began to create a list of possible reasons for Leokhares’ peculiar predicament.
By the time he was done, he had managed to pull out five possible scenarios.
One involved humans meddling with things beyond their understanding, the other involved Devils, the third involved Cryptids, the fourth featured manipulations of the Abyss and the fifth explored the possibilities of a Mystic’s involvement.
Each held weight making it quite difficult for Alex to decide on a focus.
He couldn’t just chase all of them, after all, who knew how long the little girl had before... Letting out a sigh, he chose to think positively.
Just then, his eyes caught sight of a portrait hanging on the wall opposite his desk.
It was a medium-sized portrait he’d drawn, featuring a young girl in a cute yellow dress.
Alas, the young child had no face.
In its place was a blurry mess of colors that reflected the confusion Alex felt as he was creating the artwork.
Closing his eyes, he leaned back against his chair and placed his leg on the table.
Then, he tried to dream... tried to recall her face, even for a moment.
However, Nyx’s act of devouring it made it impossible for him to recall.
Even the vague outline of their face was lost to him.
Ultimately, instead of a beautiful dream with Isabella and Mary-Jane, he found himself in what he could only regard as a nightmare.
A land split into two equal halves, one governed by light, the other, by darkness.
His cold eyes landed on the occupant of the land of light, who appeared to be meditating.
Instinctively, he clenched his fist, barely putting aside the desire to cross the boundaries between them and attack the bastard.
Perhaps sensing the ill intent, Adrian opened his eyes to gaze upon Alex, his expression swiftly morphing from one of contempt and benevolence to outright confusion.
Alex thought nothing of this change as he turned to leave, snorting as he did so.
Meanwhile, Adrian muttered to himself as he stared at Alex’s retreating back. "What is the meaning of this?... It makes no sense. He is the Dark Lord, he should not be capable of such sorcery."
Then, unable to contain his ramblings, Adrian loudly remarked. "What is the meaning of this?... Why do we keep meeting ?"
Alex sneered. "I keep asking myself the same question but I guess we’ll never know."
Then, he continued to walk away.
"Damn it, where do you think you are going, come back here and explain yourself!"
Instead of a response, Alex raised his right hand and then his middle finger, not bothering to stop until he was gone, returning to the waking world.
He took a deep breath to calm his nerves before then rising to his feet.
Putting aside the quill along with the bottle of ink, he went about methodically arranging the study.
Once he was done, he turned off the gas lamp and made his way to Arwen’s room.
After confirming she was asleep, he made his way downstairs, all the way to the basement where a familiar face was waiting.
It was Douglas and he looked a complete mess.
Alex approached him with cautious steps, and then, even though he knew it was pointless, once he was close, he snapped, after which he placed a palm on Douglas’ shoulder.
Even as the aether rippled and the Blessings of the Dark Moon flowed unrestrainedly, nothing changed.
After almost five minutes had passed, Alex retracted his hand, a regretful look in his eyes.
"Sleep well... brother."
He returned to his room and after a rather uneventful shower, retired to bed.
As he closed his eyes and allowed himself to slumber, he continued to struggle, sincerely hoping that someday, he would be able to see their faces again.
Amidst the unending struggle to reclaim what was taken from him, he heard a melodious tune.
It was a beautiful tune, it was a soulful melody.
Arwen awoke the next morning, yawning while stretching, her silver hair a tangled mess.
As she smacked her lips with the class of a roadside trader, she got out of bed and walked begrudgingly into the bathroom while scratching her neck with one hand and rubbing her eyes with the other.
Once she was done freshening up, she got dressed and made her way to the kitchen to prepare some porridge which she then took with her to the basement.
She found Douglas as he always was, still with an empty look on his visage, a shell and nothing more.
Though she couldn’t claim to be extremely close to him, she knew that if not for his actions, she wouldn’t be alive.
Douglas had stayed for her and the others to live and for that, she owed it to him to at least ensure he wasn’t completely neglected.
So, she crouched next to him, and with the skill of a caring mother, fed the young man slowly, a warm smile resting at the corners of her lips.