Every head turned. The children from Gomorrah were flooding in.
"Lord Forsythe is here!" They yelled.
Myra's heart hung and her face looked flushed.
Medea was still watching her closely, she expected someone to handle those kids.
Myra looked at Fairchild and he nodded.
Medea turned her gaze to him but he seemed oblivious of it.
"I think we should all go and see what's happening!" Myra yelled, surprising everyone there, herself included.
Not hesitating any further, she bolted from the room, followed immediately by Medea and then, the rest.
As they ran towards the river, Medea watched Myra from behind. Who was this woman? What was her deal? Her connection to Rafael? The introduction given by the Roth didn't fit her antics on the stage. And worst of all, she was going to start her tribute with Rafael, not Lord…
The children were in the lead and the adults followed them to the shore where they were all baffled, save one person.
There were three ships, one in the lead, others flanking both sides. All bore the crest of Gomorrah on each sail and at the head of the one in the lead, on a long, wooden protrusion from the hull stood Lord Forsythe, his crested sultan swaying slightly in the wind.
Brut sank to his knees, swaying with emotion.
DaVinci stood to his side, weeping uncontrollably, "He's immortal…" He managed, blowing into his napkin.
Mycroft shook his head slowly, chuckling. He had a lot of explaining to do.
Myra stood there, one of the closest to the shore. She watched him, her heart ached. A deep sigh escaped her lips and she looked downward, tears escaping her eyes. Her dress swayed slightly in the breeze and she wished it would carry her away.
Medea was getting irritated by her presence. Who did she think she was to be acting this way? What did she know about Rafael? And how did she know that he was Rafael? Was it Fairchild? It seemed she had a connection to him too. She looked around, where was he?
**********************************
Two people remained at the funeral place. One was being searched for and the other seemed like he wanted to search.
"You don't seem interested in the news."
Despite the distance, his voice carried over.
"I am really and you, my lord?" He didn't turn but he was sure he'd be heard.
The other man sighed, deep enough for them both to hear. "All will be made known, sooner or later."
"Wise words, my lord."
"If you are interested as you say, why then did you stay back?"
"Someone has to stay back to protect the coffin and its contents. Even at the cost of such an interesting firsthand knowledge as this one."
"Protect? Do you not trust your people?"
"All have sinned and fallen short at one point or another right?"
"Tis the way of sinners."
"I cannot agree more."
*******************************
Rafael was standing at the bow. A slow smile spread across his face. He'd gotten the desired effect. Everything had gone as planned and he'd interrupted his funeral proceedings.
He watched the expressions on the faces of the sinners from Sodom contentedly, barely holding back the laughter.
He switched to those from Gomorrah and nodded, this was good.
However, as the ship drew closer to land he gasped. What was she doing here? This wasn't right. She looked up and their gazes held. His heart hung mid-beat and he sighed deeply to calm himself. The effect only she could have on him, in a few seconds.
Medea was just by her and now she was frowning at him.
Mycroft was there too but Fairchild wasn't. It had to be him, no one else knew about Myra. What was he trying to achieve?
The ships moored and Rafael dropped to the ground, not making a sound. Those closest to him backed away, scared.
He chuckled, "Come, touch my hands, my feet, my sides. It is I, Lord Forsythe."
A bit surprisingly, DaVinci was the first to throw himself at Rafael's bosom. Rafael hugged him too. "I kept my word. He said once they separated.
DaVinci gasped and he nodded back, towards the ships. "All of Whitehelm's stock. And you shall be in charge of it.
DaVinci gasped and he smiled, "It's not all blue. But seeing your clothes no, I guess you no longer mind."
"I still do though. This is just for you but it's all blue underneath."
Rafael shook his head and turned away. "Oh, and I have an offer for you. I'd-"
"Stop right there I'm in."
"I've not even said the offer."
"If it's to join forces with Gomorrah, you don't have to ask." He took off his crested robe, revealing a teal undershirt. Then he held it out and burnt it up with his sin.
Brut was still on his knees but Rafael helped him up and hugged him. "You've protected your people well my man."
"You've got a lot of explaining to do." Mycroft chuckled as he was pulled into a one-arm hug. They slapped each other's backs.
He moved on to Medea but she held out one arm, the other hugging herself. "Who's she?" He paused, his mouth hanging open.
"Now's not the time for this Medea." He took his voice down several notches.
"Oh, so there's something you have to tell me? -"
He suddenly kissed her, the sinners gasped. Brut began a cheer which the others carried on.
Myra was standing there, watching him as he exchanged pleasantries with all of them. She felt his pain, having to relate so closely with them. He hid it well; she shook her head. Things didn't have to be this way. If he'd just listen to her and Fairchild.
Then he met his lady. Myra watched. The woman was clearly reacting to her presence. Within, she smiled. One point for her. But then he kissed her and in spite of everything she felt like she'd explode.
She slipped out unnoticed and leaned against the wall of a building out of view. Did he like it? Was she a better kisser? At least she seemed like she'd be more knowledgeable in that area. Her once-mighty point now seemed feeble next to the lady's pile.
****************************
Rafael and Medea broke up the kiss and he hugged her tightly but she hugged him even tighter. "Don't you ever leave me again."
"I won't." He whispered and tried to calm her. She was letting it all go once more. He patted her back softly and let her bathe him. Myra wasn't anywhere to be seen, she must've left when he kissed her. He couldn't blame her. He'd have done the same. However, he didn't have any choice. That was the only way to silence her without causing a commotion. "Where's Fairchild?"
"He stayed back. I guess to protect your things." Mycroft looked back towards the road they'd come through.
"Okay then, I'll answer all your questions tonight. I promise.
Medea sniffed against him and he held her back, wiping the tears from her face. "It's okay now, I'm here."
She was breaking down once more and he asked Mycroft to take her to the cabin. She refused, clinging to him but he was able to convince her that he had to take care of some business with the sinners from Sodom. That did the job and she let Mycroft lead her away.
Rafael walked over to where Credo stood, followed on both sides by Brut and DaVinci. None of the sinners had moved. They were still trying to process what they'd just seen.
"Lord Credo, on behalf of the entire family of Gomorrah, I have to apologize for the inconvenience. You'll have to wait a little longer for this day to come."
"Unfortunately." The veins in his neck throbbed quite clearly, he squinted, crinkled his nose and pressed his lips together. Turning on his heel, he led his sinners on and away from there.
Rafael faced his men and they burst into laughter. He'd never seen something more satisfying.
********************************
Mycroft helped Medea to the funeral place instead, so they could tell Fairchild.
"Is he alive?"
"Yes my lord." Medea was a bit taken aback, he too had remained?
Fairchild chuckled, "He never ceases to surprise.
Mycroft helped Medea into one of the seats and Fairchild got up, "Mycroft, lend me a hand with this coffin, let's move it in."
Mycroft nodded, moving to one end and attempting to lift it.
"That coffin looks heavy, why not use your sin?"
The duo paused and looked at each other, then at Medea and the slight shake of her head confirmed their fears. None of them had their regalia on.