The Ciphrus Compendium by darknano | World Anvil Manuscripts | World Anvil

Act III, Part 3

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The stomping of his Armor Back arrived at a camp deserted, the old embers of a flame slowly losing their light. Tra unmounted from his steed and approached the scene. His eyes were fixated on any potential tracks -- signs where the Yetinaph had gone. He investigated the sight thoroughly, while Floretaxen was dilly-dallying to the south.

    “We won’t find her here!” Floretaxen, who was hawkeyeing a corpse, exclaimed. Tra audibly sighed. “Thanks,” he said with considerable sarcasm.

    “Someone’s dead, here. Oh, oh, oh! I think I know who did it,” Floretaxen said, initiating a prancing dance around the corpse. Tra approached posthaste. 

    “Shut up,” Tra told Floretaxen as he kneeled down to inspect the corpse. This was the corpse of an unidentifiable gentleman, as the man had seemingly taken his own life using a double barreled shotgun. The firearm lay beside him, his body curled backwards with over half of his head void from his person.

    Floretaxen looked downward with a sense of boredom, whereas Tra cursed under his breath. “Poor bastard,” Tra murmured.

    “Yes, indeed,” Floretaxen exhaled, “now where is our little one?”

    Tra stood up and scanned the camp from where he was. “Someone else was here. There was food made -- enough for two people. There are some disturbances in the brush along with prints that lead to the northeast. I suspect-” Tra explained, but his monologue was interrupted by one of Floretaxen’s own.

    Floretaxen had kneeled beside the corpse, and appeared to be whispering something to him. When Tra had quieted down, he could hear:
    “... in the consequential. I have no name, I speak no truth. Undiscerned, are we, yet limitless in our potential to provide an inconsequential world. The inconsequential is a perceived utopia, wallowed in the essence of self defeat. This contrived rendition of an unjust universe is the proponent of life in which we all share. In your life, it was unbearable, and so the universe had decided -- through chaotic conception -- that it may end. Your suffering is over, and so therefore the cycle continues in a bask of unity, for we all return to Existence in the end.”

    Floretaxen closed his eyes and shed a single tear. From then, it fell onto the man’s bloody chest, and the body quickly imploded into nothingness, leaving the blood stained soil as his only remnant.

    In Tra’s turn to share the bored look, he quipped about the situation. “Are you done?”

    “Done.” Floretaxen said, standing up; his abnormal smile had returned, and he looked towards the northeast. “The consequences are exciting!” he exclaimed, though much like a child.

    Tra furrowed his brows and shook his head with a scowl. “You’re a freak,” he said, and straddled his way back over to his mount, where they continued the trail northeast.

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