Chapter 2

"Tacitus...Tacitus...Tacitus..."

A man, a tall shadow, holding a grimoire, sneered with an intent to kill me, and I pitied him. The music in his soul was slowly fading, he was going to die here, along with the others chanting that wicked God's name. How unfortunate that was. I looked at my hand, red they were. My music was stained by others like him.

"Ahhhh~♪"

I wanted to run from it, my prison. They made me kill a many people. Those men who harnessed my voice, have spilled generations of blood. As I stood here, in this occult's circle, I began to cast the cancer of musics...Silence.

That's where I lost...I lost my purpose. I wasn't meant to sing anything the devil whispered. When I did, they caught me, they tried to petrify me, but I turned into embers. I could feel it...the holiness of my voice growing weaker from each note sung.

"HE'S TRYING TO STIFLE THE SPELL! QUICK—"

Their song did not even scathe me, instead, it burned them. They all went in flames.

They were screaming in agony squirming in the amethyst colored flames. I just looked at them, unsure what to feel after so many murders. This was no different...I killed all of them.

What was left of them was not ashes, instead, a chaotic rhapsody, it echoed in the temple. Their regrets, their triumphs, secrets, and everything in their life—their ensemble had to offer. It was painfully beautiful. It was a fast tune, a messy, but a beautiful one that somehow made my heart flutter.

Why do I deserve this? Tell me, oh sweet sweet creator of things...Tell me...What have I done to you? You have condemned me in this sad piece of dust in the sea of stars...Pray tell, why do you hate me? Why...have you forsaken me?!

•••

"Ah!" I gasped, waking abruptly from a strange dream. My breaths were rapid as I held my chest, trying to calm down while watching the sun slowly rise through the window.

What a dream—H-Huh? my body feels so light all of a sudden. Damn it feels good! Oh my god, I feel like my old self again! Well, not really... it still feels relatively weak, but still—What's that sound?

Snores... Snores... Snores...

"Huh?" I muttered, tilting my head to the side. It moved, my sheets moved? I inched away, before throwing off the blanket.

"Nghhh..."

"AHHHHHH!!" I screamed, leaping to my feet as a stranger began to stir.

"Wait, I can walk?!" I exclaimed, looking at my feet, utterly bewildered. "I CAN TALK?!" I added even in greater disbelief.

The man yawned, stretching his body casually.

"Pipe down," He complained, with a frown, threathened me with a sharp glint about his eyes.

There was a silence that followed, the thick and suffocating kind, which I wasn't used to.

He looked at me, not a hint of amusement etched on his face, and his eyes—a haunting shade of wine, behind a curtain of inky black hair that seemed sharp enough to pierce through my very soul.

"You look horrid..." He mocked, an echo following each word that came out of his mouth.

He doesn't look human—far from it. He looked almost divine, the unforgiving kind. His feathered hands, each finger ending in sharp claws, talons that gleamed with a menacing sheen, everything—everything about him just made it look like he was daunting.

Then...why is my heart in a frenzy? Like in every stage performance, this feels like...joy? Excitement? It felt like...freedom?

"What are you?" I shook my head, with a clenched jaw. "More importantly, W-Who are you?" I continued, not entirely afraid but nervous more than anything else.

"Haaa..." He groaned. With a frown, he stood up. The light through the glass casted him a towering silhouette—his shadow loomed over my entirety, making me feel terribly small.

"Listen close," He said, and I gulped. "I am Nocturne, one of the miracles."

"Eh?" I stood there my jaw agape. "EHHHH?!!!!" I screamed.

"Seriously?" Nocturne snapped his fingers and I was back into silent mode.

"There that's better," His eyes swept over me, scrutinizing every detail from head to toe as if he were a jeweler appraising a rare gem. "Well...I can't believe I'm going to be under your possession, you look unfortunately unfit for battle." He complained.

Under my possession? Huh?! Unfit for battle? Wait...wait wait, WHAT?!

"Before anything, no I can't grant wishes, no I can't make you immortal, and—Oh you want to speak?" I nodded profusely, then he chuckled snapping his fingers.

"Slow down! slow down...What do you mean under my possession?! and unfit for battle?" I exclaimed, and he groaned, but took no initiative to recast his spell.

"Haaa...Do I have to explain everything to you?" He groaned tilting his head. "Yes!" I yelled crossing my arms.

"Do you really not know anything?" He asked sarcastically, shrugging his hand before letting out an obvious, disappointed groan.

"I thought miracles are supposed to be summoned by the church unless—"

"You must be one of Tacitus's miracles aren't you?" I said, propping myself a foot behind, scowling at him cautiously.

He certainly looks evil, but I can't just shake off this...this weird atmosphere. It doesn't feel like what the books describe... don't the miracles embody the sides that they're supposed to be on? How come this one doesn't come with the "Traumatizing Silence" kind of energy?

"If I was, this place should've been a lot quieter than it's supposed to be," He said closing the distance between us. "Listen closely...What do you hear?" He continued.

An orchestra...I could hear the same kind of orchestra heard in cathedrals—A faint choir, accompanied by strings and an organ. It was mesmerizing, the sound of it, made me feel weightless.

He was just at arms reach now and the more I look at him, the more he began to look like a beautifully sculpted roman statue.

"I am not one of his miracles, even if I was, why would I choose someone like you?" He joked. "But...if you managed to summon me..."

"Summon you? What do you mean summon you? I can't even use magic?!" I asked.

Maybe it's because of my curse, or Clarion's spell yesterday? No—that can't be...Ah! I don't know! I only just started learning about magic! It would be plausible to assume that my curse reacted to something while I was sleeping last night, but in this case, it seems a bit of a stretch that, whatever curse I have, reaulted in a miracle appearing in my—I mean, Orpheus's bedroom.

"Well...calling a miracle is no easy fete, and it looks like the next plague hasn't begun...so if you're not a champion of the two Gods..." I gulped as he darted his eyes at me.

"...Then who are you?" He asked.

I certainly haven't gone far as to explain how I managed to call this miracle. However, having a miracle by my side can either be a convenience or a burden. I can't simply trust this miracle, but I can't let go of such an opportunity like this...

"I am Orpheus," I replied, not really knowing any other answer.

"That doesn't explain anything, but I recognize those features anywhere," He said looking at me intently. "Ocean blue eyes, gleaming resplendent lockes... You're from the Nightingales I assume." Nocturne continued, smiling.

"Enough of that," I said waving my hands dismissively. "How are you here if there's no plague yet?" I inquired.

"I've been here for a long time trying to finish my purpose. Purpose affixes miracles in the mortal realm, and some of us fulfill it by following the prophecy..." He paused.

"...However, some...like me well," He crossed his arms and, for a moment, casted me a forlorn expression "We are special cases." He continued.

A special case...From the way he speaks, it seems like he had been here for a very long time. Regardless, a miracle by my side might come in handy one way or another. Not to mention that he's a divine being—he might be able to lead me to what I need to know to go back to my old world.

"Noct—"

Sounds of hurried footsteps echo through the corridor. Oh that must be the servants, they must've heard me scream earlier.

"Orpheus?! Are you okay?!"

The heavy door breaks open, followed by the rustle of cloaks.

"Orpheus... You—You can walk..?" His father's voice cracked with emotion as he watched me, who had been confined to a bed for five long years, stand up in the middle room.

Clariod and Caden's eyes were wide and agape with astonishment. The servants, who stood behind the door looked as if they were going to cry. Nocturne...on the other hand, seemed to have disappeared silently.

"Son..." The duke called, walking towards me slowly, his hands reaching out to me as if he wanted an embrace.

Ah...this man. He doesn't look like my father at all. Orpheus...I envy you.

You have a good father while I had to be stuck with some lowlife bastard in the real world. He never looked at me with those eyes, the kind that looked like they've missed me.

I don't really know how to react. The duke looked at me as if...as if he had been looking forward to this in his entire life. If...you don't mind, Orpheus, just once, can I borrow your father's love for a while?

"F-Father?" I replied softly.

"Y-You...You can speak?!" The duke cried, as he pulled me for a hug.

"Whoa seriously, he talked?!" Caden exclaimed, with a smile, he rushed to me and held my hand. "How is that possible?!" Clarion added.

"Young master!~" The maids were weeping. They candidly open the door as they brushed their tears off with their uniforms.

I... didn't know what to feel. I have always had so many fans adore me, but not in this way. Millions of them show their love and support for my craft, but...it never felt like this. How come...my heart feels warmer right now?