THE FALL [P] Aug 15, 2018 0:39:16 GMT
Post by EMILIA on Aug 15, 2018 0:39:16 GMT
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How long had it been since he had returned to Olympus? Mere days? Weeks? Months? Most likely the last. He missed his daughter, but there were things he needed to do and could not afford distraction. He had been following leads, mostly from the books he had read and studied, about ancient weaponry, artifacts, and trinkets that held power beyond any one persons imagination. He had little luck so far, the only one he had found of any use, was the one he used to raise Emi once more. And that had lost its power the moment he used it. Now? He followed rumor that there was a lost grave in some jungle that held a sword that could cut anything, no matter the material. As he trudged through the small jungle, avoiding the vines and roots that threatened to trip him, his thoughts wandered.
When this was over, he could return to Olympus, to Emi, and they could continue with their goal. Of course, he had learned of the rise of the Quincy, but had chosen to avoid them, or the Shinigami, for the time being. Removing his Zanpakuto, he cut down a few overgrown shrubs before sheathing it again, growing more and more annoyed. It was almost not worth it. Most likely it was some false idol, a translation lost in the ages and a fanatic who believed this could be the source of some ancient and mystical power. So far, they had all been duds, why would this one be any different? Still, he knew if he did not at least check it, it would gnaw away at him. All those 'what ifs', and 'what could have been'.
But he had decided. Whether this turned out to be a false lead or not. He was done searching for artifacts. He had lost too much time as it was, and would be apart from Emi and Olympus no longer. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he stumbled upon the grave. It was... in bad shape, and he nearly missed it the first time. Vines and shrubbery had overgrown it, and the writing was barely legible any more. Sighing, he stretched a hand out, and with a small burst of reiatsu, blew the foliage, dirt, and tombstone away to reveal the remains of someone who was most definitely a warrior.
But the sword was rusted and chipped, and most definitely not capable of cutting through 'anything'. Hell, it'd probably barely cut through paper at this point. "I apologize for disturbing your rest, warrior." He mumbled to himself as he ripped a few branches with large leaves and covered his grave once more. He was more exposed than before, but it was the best he could do. Turning, he began to leave. But something felt.... off.