He was just about done when he arrived at the archaic clock tower of a once lively island town. According to Emil, if he recalled correctly, the island town was destroyed during the war between the Warrior and his companions against the evil of the Simulacra. They were entities of the angelic skies and the depths of Inferno’s flames, beings which took on the guise of the other in order to deceive for a purpose unknown. After the events back in Ira a sudden detour led the two to spiral across the sea to this seemingly isolated piece of sand. Resting upon a heated stone facing the incandescent sun, the young man cared little that his hide would become cooked. Thanks to Emil he was the one to tote everything as she focused elsewhere in that aloof mind of hers.

Where he sat all that remained of this island town was the decrepit clock tower, its thick massive hands remarkably still in function. Everything else was either rubbles of debris and stones. When they first arrived its bellowing toll reverberated throughout the entire island. The captain of his little boat bore a grim expression at the sound. From what Virgilius took notice of, the captain’s eyes flashed worriedly after them but hadn’t bothered in trying to implore them back. This island is cursed, he had said, motioning his wooden arm across the seas when Virgilius and Emil went to find him. When the captain left, he went in a manner that would put any racer to shame.

“I really doubt we’ll find anything here,” Virgilius complained, a scowl on his face. He pressed his hands to his temples to somehow pacify the excruciating headache that plagued him the second he got on into the boat. With the sun beating awfully against his perspired neck, his cotton grey shirt already shades darker from sweat; sometime later soft crunched sand made his ears perk but he knew who it was. The flap of long sleeves attacked the air as a honey wooden violin practically materialized from thin air and a bow sliding out flicked reflexively with her wrist.

“You complain too much,” the cloaked girl mumbled. Bow to glistening strings a peaceful tune sang. The low crash of waves seemed to be an appropriate chorus to her skillful recital. It was remedy hymn. Virgilius could feel the veins of his temples loosen and expand as he could feel blood flow freely, his eardrums no longer hearing the incessant drumming of his heartbeat. Aggravation uplifted. Now he couldn’t stand the heat on that rock he sat on and jumped to his feet. A fleeting giggle escaped from her hidden features. At this Virgilius had to look at her to see if this anomaly had occurred or not. He found nothing.
“We mustn’t tarry any longer,” she said in her usual deadpanned tone, her wrist sliding the bow as she paced about, her shadow moving in contradiction of what she was actually doing. The young man only threw a withering look towards the demon living in her shadow, Midnight.
He focused back on her. “Just what is here that is of importance?”

Emil’s shadow crossed its arms yet she paid little attention of what was going on when she arrived towards the slow end of her hymn.

“Human!” Midnight went, expanding Emil’s shadow when it sauntered nearer towards the demon slayer. “There is something here… an evil residing…” his deep rasp of a voice trailed off.
The cloaked girl brought her bow down to her knee and within seconds the instrument disappeared in motes of diminishing sparks.
“You sensed that too?”
Midnight nodded.
Virgilius’ eyes widened in surprise, “Sensed what? Hey! Where are you going?” Before he could register what was going on, Emil followed suit of her shadow and disappeared into the greenery of the sinister tropical woods. Arms erect in the air, he growled, wondering if he should go after them or remain here where their things lay. He never required much but the saber strapped over his back but the Violinist’s two bags were of vital importance. Without much options he grabbed onto the seemingly weightless bags and grunted as he fought against the sand that pulled him back.

*
A low rumble originated from a giant tombstone. Scrawled into it were glowing text that none could understand but the only inhabitant residing in the island of Temperantia. In the center clearing of the entire island; only from the skies would the birds and Gods have seen the ominous glow, a clear message to the Angels to come and play. Alarmed by the unexpected growl of the-should-be dormant deity, the deceitful vampire became unsteady when his cracked coconut shell filled with blood, spilled.

“Oh fiddlesticks!” the trickster whispered, standing from his self-made wicker chair. He faced the eroding tombstone, index digit pressed to pale lips, Andilaveris mulled of what to say.

“Andilaveris, you poor excuse of a demon!” a hidden voice boomed. Andi nearly jumped out of his skin at the unexpected confrontation. Falling to his knees he bowed before the tombstone. He could feel multiple eyes smolder into him.

“Trespassers, there are intruders on this island…”
The poor thing scraped his forehead against the muddy earth when he looked up, his bright green eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement. Furtive in his movements to straighten his form, his hands went to smooth out his shirt but the mud his fingers dug into only made it worse. Shaky, Andi stuttered, “I-Intruders…?” Another round of growls made him whimper. He knew better than to question, if the deity announced something he would not repeat it.
“I… Don’t even worry about it, sir!” Andi began, bringing himself to his feet he turned away about to walk until the voice shouted at him to turn back around.

“Don’t you dare face your back to me, not until I dismiss your insignificant being!”
“S-sorry, sir…” the vampire mumbled incoherently under his breath, shaking.
“Go,” it said. Andilaveris nodded and flew off before he’d annoy the deity any further.

*

He was the greatest warrior that Purgatorio had ever seen. He saved the world from Paradisio and Inferno from colliding into a-would-be cataclysmic war. It would have torn the world of the Ignorant and our world into pieces… but now he is gone without a trace. The demons are slowly but surely taking over Purgatorio in hopes to intercept into the world of the Ignorant. Where is our Warrior of the Dawn?


It was a well-known legend throughout all of Purgatorio far as Virgilius had been concerned. About 500 years had the Warrior been gone the origins of this fairytale had never been found but, rather was spread by mouth. Could have been a rumor, who knew? Though if he were real it would explain the demon slayer’s odd companions, ones he never anticipated to meet.

Breathing heavy he dropped the leather bags to the ground when he finally reached Emil. Normally she would have chided him for his reckless care of her valuables but her focus was elsewhere. Beside her Midnight was also in deep concentration, at least, Virgilius thought so. The damned apparition had no face yet Emil could tell what he was feeling, they were bonded after all by their pact. According to Emil, she encountered the demon when she was young and travelled with him ever since, anything else concluding their relationship was omitted. The young man didn’t like it; he recalled briefly how close he was to killing Emil when he first met her in the accursed town of Ira. He thought her a demon who was trying to reach the top hierarchy of competing demons that plagued the poor town.

“Hey, are any of you going to tell me—“
“SHH!” the girl hushed him tersely. She pulled back her leather hood to reveal her wavy brown curls. Hey, wasn’t that the first time he had actually seen her hair? He went over to her carefully, positioning his ear in hopes of trying to detect what they were sensing. Too bad he was human. After what seemed like an eternity the two relaxed. Emil turned to press a finger to his nose, a dark look in her eyes.

“Don’t ever interrupt me like that again,” she warned. Her deep brown eyes flickering towards her haphazardly dropped bags.

“I’d say I was sorry, but I’m not,” Virgilius shot back, giving her tart expression. If it were to have been any other female telling him off in such a tone, he would have just left. However in this case, he couldn’t. Arms crossed, he repressed a grin at her gawked expression at his reply. She turned away from him as she went toward her things till he felt a strong chill assault his senses. He shuddered violently. It felt like a snowstorm had breezed solely on him.

“Who are you to speak in such a manner to a lady?” Midnight snarled.
Virgilius only grunted. “So are you guys going to tell me what that was back there? I can’t see things like you do,”

“Poor excuse of a demon hunter,” Emil retorted, rifling through her items until she retrieved what she needed. In her hand a glint of silver shimmered faintly through the many leaves of the tropical forest where the sun managed to shine through. The pensive look on her features brought some realization to mind.
Deciding to ignore her comment Virgilius kneeled beside her, examining how her slender fingers glided against the silver.
“Is it what I think it is?”
“Hm?” Emil turned her face towards his, taking in his speculative eyes, “No,”

“Then what?”
She avoided his question. “We need to make camp here,”

*

Hidden behind the abundance of bending leaves sat Andilaveris on the sturdiest tree trunk he could find that was the most comfortable. Resting on his elbows he searched after the duo who argued relentlessly at each other. The female, a lovely thing, extricated herself from the worn-out cloak and announced she would go search. The male, a tall toned young thing, on the brink of losing his temper lashed out at the tree nearest to him with one quick movement of extracting his blade from its holster across his back. He knew he would have to be careful with this one.

A smile playing on his pale lips, the vampire contemplated as to what he would do on these poor souls. First he would frighten the girl with a spider suspended on string; that is a main fear of human females, right? It would be a cheesy prank but it’s something. The male would need some work. Andi had some carcasses he could use. Oh! Illusions! He had learned some illusions! This he would use against the frightening young man, it would make him wet himself and drive him off this island before he could scream for his mother.

“Night sky, be bright!” he started to sing, “Give your fullness an impressionable shine, lend me your darkness to feast these intruders to their demise, …Or at the very least, off this island before HE makes a hide out of me!” Andi cried, bouncing onto his feet, hands towards the bright blue sky until he lost his footing in his attempt of a dance. Laughing ruefully he thought of the inevitable punishment he would gain if he didn’t complete his task. In the back of his mind he recalled how he got to this island the second he fell into a trap he made shrouded in leaves years ago. There were so many traps he had made here in the Island of Temperantia.

*

She could definitely pull at string with her skillful fingers; make any tune elegantly sing to its full potential but when it came to pulling Virgilius’ strings… Emil could really make him cry, cry out in frustration. He was left behind to make camp. Why couldn’t she? He never had camped before even when he was on the road from his hometown to Ira. He normally found some stones large enough so he could rest against, regardless of how uncomfortable he was. Virgilius could sleep easy just about anywhere. Because of that fact was what he supposed worried Emil, due to his insignificant status as demon hunter. You’re vulnerable, idiot. She usually said.

He rolled his eyes at the bad imitation he made of her voice. Whatever, he thought and made sure the surroundings were at least safe before he headed into the greenery abyss to gather some wood.

“There is something here, why aren’t you telling me anything?” Emil asked to the wind, forgetting completely she was on a deserted island. It had become a habit for her to whisper no higher than a breeze, not wanting to attract attention whenever she was somewhere filled with people. At times her enigmatic companion who took residence in her shadow would be annoyed but he was nevertheless kind. Emil always found it odd; then again he had been with her ever since she could remember.

“Is it a demon?” she persisted, casting her eyes towards her shadow. It hadn’t moved; it remained mirroring her actions.
“Are you even awake?”
Her shadow finally moved. “Not quite, it’s a peculiar creature residing here, but there’s also something else,”
She wondered if she had disrupted his rumination. “Was I right to grab the silver?”

Her shadow expanded far till it stood beside her as if it was another human and the featureless entity gave a pensive feeling, a feeling only she could sense to determine Midnight’s thoughts.
“It would have been but no longer, it’d be impossible,”

Emil moved on the balls of her feet, debating whether to ask him what it was or wait for him to explain later on. Her thoughts eventually fluttered onto Virgilius. She felt somewhat bad in leaving him behind but his use was required elsewhere—for now. No longer did her thoughts remain personal until Midnight advised for them to head back.

“We should go check on him, you’ll never know what’ll happen, it’s foreboding here.”
A brief grin split her face. “Never thought you’d worry about him,”
Her shadow’s hands were thrown in the air, the demon releasing a terse chill down her spine in response to the ridiculous suggestion. “I care not for that human! His only good use is to be your shield until we discover the Warrior,” Midnight growled, “Besides; you are the one thinking of him.”
Emil had never felt the blood drain from her face and flew right back up in such a swift manner. Typically bearing a pallor skin tone matching death, it was impossible to hide the scarlet tinting her cheeks. Perhaps if she received her regular tan it would have been easier but too late now.

“I keep forgetting you can sense my thoughts,”
“Not necessarily, the speed your heart goes when around or in your thoughts are typically the same,”
“Is that so,”
“Yes,” the raspy voice said bitterly, rooted in place still beside her but only his hands moved. “It’s ridiculously slow.”

A brow arched inquisitively, her nose wrinkling as she looked up from beneath her hood. Reflexively her hand flew to her chest to feel her beat but couldn’t distinguish whether it was slower or not. He chuckled no higher than a mumble.
“You find him relaxing, not a heartthrob, thank God,” the way he said God was impudent. Emil rolled her eyes.
“But never mind that, we should go,”

*

His hair was a mess with fly away strands and several pieces of leaves and dirt jutted between. That hole he had made long ago was now a holder of the scarce rain water that befell this desolate island. If he hadn’t been given the task of guardian Andi would have died the second he touched water but for nearly 400 years he had become impervious to his weaknesses typical of a vampire.

Clamped to the tree trunk he slithered across it while he kept his eye on the young man pushing his way through the bothersome branches which kept smacking. Occasionally the vampire would have to repress his wild laughter. Smoothing back his blond hair, leaving muddy streaks near his eyes, he gingerly hoisted himself to his feet and leaped onto another branch. Again he nearly lost his footing but caught himself when he managed to grasp onto the trunk mid-fall. Like a caterpillar he slithered once more, crimson eyes wide, and felt the imploring eyes beneath a distant tomb smolder into him.
“Don’t be angry,” Andi whimpered, pleading with his eyes as he looked to the skies. A harsh wind assaulted the tropical forest as a response to his whine.

Below a frustrated demon hunter shoved and bustled through the leaves until he reached some sort of clearing. There was no way he could have a sufficient amount of wood for a fire. Above the searing rays of the merciless sun managed to somewhere beat upon him, it felt as though it meant to force every pore to pump out sweat in order to dehydrate him. After a brief break he went to continue, cursing Emil under his breath. What annoyed him was the condescending manner in which he used to treat him, ignoring his status as a demon hunter and made him seem lesser than any demon that dared to leave Inferno.

“Some demons aren’t as bad as you think they are,” she had once said to him after the events in Ira. He rebuffed by calling her delusional and biased due to her pact with Midnight. Demon lover, he had once said to her face. What irritated him most was how nonchalant she was; he remembered how she laughed in his face.

“You’re a demon hunter, of course you’d think that,”
He argued there was a reason for angels to somehow retrieve her from the pact with her demon since he learned, although not very well in executing it, to free someone of their debt. Virgilius didn’t hate her but rather her sentiments to demons. If it weren’t for his heavy digression of his path he would have noticed the wire hidden poorly beneath the soil and exotic leaves. There was a snap but he never noticed.

“Emil, you say I’m incorrigible but I think you’re—HEY!”
Virgilius’ focus on the path sudden blurred and felt the world twist before him, the wind knocked out of him when his head smacked against a nearby stone and his hands flew down due to gravity. His brain jumbled inside like jelly. The poor young man couldn’t concentrate when the blood flew down to his face, a pounding making his ear irritated and the warm trickle of blood tickling down the back of his head. When he opened his eyes all Virgilius could see was the same greenery twist, jump, and become distant towards the tunneling darkness that was unconsciousness. Before he went all he could think of was Emil and how she’d fare with him temporarily unavailable.

She’d be fine without me, he thought, going out.
A shriek was the last he heard, followed up by an atonal laughter as dainty steps neared him. It wasn’t Emil, that much was for sure and the second he felt tantalizing hands grace his face. Whoever it was reeked of sweetness but those rubbery fingers made whatever sensory neurons still available send a chill down his spine.