Trails left and paths crossed [DAVON & PHILIPPE]

The darkness of the night embraced the surroundings of the Godia Castle, painting the sky with ever-shifting hues of darkness and light, embellished with the flickering stars. The castle itself never stood in darkness but Philippe knew his way around to never be caught in its light. He was seeking the darkness - wearing only black clothes, a black trousers, black coat and a black beanie to hide himself in the shadows. And in his hand a black bag, that for now was empty. His hopes were to have it filled to the brim before he yet again would be forced into the castle's light.

One would think someone like Philippe would have no desire to leave the safety of the castle he had grown up in. But this was far from the truth - Philippe felt a desire for not much other than this. It would be lying to claim that he did not care for the opulence that he was used to within the castle walls, but one thing was habituation, the other was yearning. Philippe yearned for more than what he could place a finger on. His life had never lacked wealth and luxury but it had never provided more than that either. A cage of gold was still just that - a cage.

A cage with several broken bars, and Philippe knew of each unguarded territory. In his earlier years, before the scandal he would sneak out regularly, a grasping attempt at some feeling of freedom. Nowadays, he only left the castle on his own like this every once and now to gather materials for what he had come to learn gave him an authentic feeling of freedom.

Still, it was with a surge of anticipation, an emotion more alive than Philippe felt, that he sneaked down the Godia Castle’s halls and left the grandiose building. He crept away quietly, keeping close to the outer walls and making sure to avoid any of the places where the Godia Warriors usually stood and guarded. Luckily, the guards were only trained to keep anyone from entering the castle, not the other way around. Who would ever wish to leave the Godia Castle? Certainly, no one in their right mind. Philippe thought this too.

Soon, he would be in Ilomar City forest. Surrounded by nothing but the trees, the silence and the darkness. That, and the lingering atmosphere of the crown prince’s murder. He hadn’t been to the forest since they had found the beheaded body in there. Maybe this would affect his feeling of freedom this time around. Maybe he would feel more free than ever.

There was a reason the Godia castle was referred to as the pearl of the Haling Dove by many. It was beautiful, with sweeping archways, ornate stone decorations, and turrets and spires reaching toward the sky as if to touch Iosta herself. Every intricate detail was a testament to everything the royal family represented: structure, propriety, and what the Godia warriors sought to protect, embodying what Ilomar itself strived to be, or should strive to be. Yet everything was uncertain these days. The murder, the check-up that dared suggest such things about Melody, the opportunity Davon had been presented with. Yet, the palace always remained as it always would: orderly, reliable, safe. Predictable. Davon found solace in that. Even in these dark times and on this dark night, the palace was a beacon of light and goodness, something worth protecting—a duty Davon took very seriously.

And so, he took patrolling the grounds seriously too, especially now with murderers on the loose – thus he had taken it upon himself to expand on their usual patrol routes, to make sure that wouldn’t happen again. With its many nooks and hidden entrances, these were not times for risks. Although most the night had been admittedly dull and as his shift drew closer and closer to its end, he couldn’t help but think that it was a waste of resources. Theodore had likely been killed in Erast, after all, far away from the safety of the Godia castle. The transfer to Sector 11 was an opportunity too good to turn down. There wasn’t much protection to be done from the courtyards and ordained outer walls of the castle. No one dared attack a place so sacred, and it was a useless place to start.

But the sounds of stirring brought his thoughts and movements to a halt. What was that? An intruder? In all his years as a guard he had admittedly never caught anyone trying to break in. Creeping closer to investigate, a dark figure moving to leave the grounds. His heart was threatening to leap out of his chest. Did he confront the figure? Follow and catch the criminal in the act? Maybe the act had already been done?

For a moment, he was at a standstill, weighing his options. In the end, before the figure had a chance to escape, he decided to follow. Who knew? Maybe he’d ultimately uncover some clues pertaining to the murder?