Fenrir really didn't get paid enough for this.
Of course, by all technicality he never got paid for anything, and this was a token phrase he'd picked up from Jörmungandr's group. Whenever the twins would act strangely and Laura became fed up with them she would say it before whacking them over the head, but the spirit remained the same.
Here he was, carrying his brother and his brother's Priestess, wondering why he was being forced to act as some glorified steed, and next his hair was being yanked back by pale hands.
"OW! Ow, Jörmungandr, I swear if that's you—" he cut himself off when he realized it was too small and weak to be his brother, and glanced over his shoulder to find a shaken Asta, with wide eyes and an irregular breathing pattern. Her pale blue and sunset yellow eyes were affixed on her Patron, an odd sense of horror in her expression as she begged, "L-Let m-me down, please..."
"Um... sure?" he replied carefully, loosening his grasp on her, allowing her to escape. And the first thing she did once free was run, and he thought to himself while cursing the world, 'I really don't get paid enough to do this sh!t—'
————
"Hey! Where you going, kid? You planning on getting yourself killed or something, be careful! You might not be fully assimilated with your body yet!"
Anubis glanced at the irked Fenrir, and noted Jörmungandr to be in clear sight of the escaping Asta. He recalled how she looked when she first awoke from her resurrection—bright eyed and desperate to reach out for her Patron—and now she ran from where he was?
'"I feel an anomaly within this little one... like a seed, slowly beginning to flourish where it does not belong.."'
A bad feeling grew within his gut, a troubled expression crossing his face as several thoughts and theories flew through his mind. He hoped—prayed, even with the irony associated with that phrase—that he was wrong for once because by the Duat, it seemed that whomever was controlling the fate of this world really enjoyed messing with the serpent.
"I'll get her!" he called to Fenrir as he noticed the man speed up, intent on catching her. What Fenrir did not know was it was very possible she would never allow such a thing, so long as Jörmungandr was carried by him.
'Time to test this theory.'
"Ain, could you please block Asta's view of Jörmungandr?"
His Priestess, though confused by the request, noticed his grim expression and followed through with it, standing in front of Fenrir and brute forcing a conversation. Aspen's inquisitive gaze followed his movements, gentle mental prods brushing against his thoughts as she wondered what he was going to do. Gently, he pushed her away with only a soft murmur of command, "'Please observe Asta's mind; I need to make sure of something.'"
A blink and a nod was her acquiescence, her gaze flitting to where Asta stood at the crest of the hill. She had finally stopped, eyes transfixed by something in the distance.
Inhaling a calming breath, Anubis approached her carefully, and already he noticed a change in her countenance. As a spirit, there was almost always a sense of gloom surrounding and pervading her essence and he hadn't thought much of it, as it was understandable to be a little depressed and skittish when you were a ghost.
"Ah, Anubis!" she greeted him, a gentle smile on her face before pointing towards a strange pavilion on top of a large hill, with columns of enormous proportion rising upwards to the sky, an openly inquisitive expression on her face. "Is that where we need to arrive?"
Blinking at her change, and a little taken aback by how calm and... well, bright, she was, he quietly answered, "Yes, we need to end up there for the Conference."
She wrinkled her nose in distaste, remarking, "Man, that does not sound great. I mean, we're gonna declare war against each other in such a open place? How are we supposed to escape cleanly if things go awry? Also, that hike does not seem enjoyable in the least."
"Escape?" he questioned to which she replied, "Of course escape! I don't know have any skills that would be helpful against gods, and none of us even have classes! Because of that, there's no job specific skills and we're really at a disadvantage..."
Anubis stared at her, her jumble of words fading away as he observed her soul. Even with the gloom, her spirit had been a bright one, but that brightness was nothing compared to the radiance she gave off now. It was as if she had become the sun.
'Are mortals supposed to have such... brilliance, within their souls? No... I know they aren't, even those who held host to gods did not shine as brightly.' Subtly, he glanced towards Aspen, and noticed a similar phenomenon of brightness occur. Next to Fenrir, she shone even brighter.
Even Ain's soul, which was linked directly to him, was dimmer in comparison to the younger Priestesses.
'What is going on?'
"...Ah," a small cry came from Asta's mouth, and his gaze immediately flickered towards her, freezing. Her entire body was trembling, and the radiance that had once came from her dimmed significantly as that strange anomaly he had noted before suddenly grew.
Following her gaze, he found an awakened Jörmungandr, staring at her with wide, complicated eyes. She stumbled back, hugging herself for comfort as an expression of pure terror contorted her previously calm features.
A tense silence hung in the air, the god and priestess staring at each other with a strange intensity. Why was it, that the people who were supposed to trust each other the most in the world looked nothing short of distrustful? Aspen flinched visibly, grasping onto her Patron's arm, causing Fenrir to release Jörmungandr in favor of caring for his ailing Priestess.
The situation became even more charged as he stood up, gaze locked on her own as she stepped back a little, wary of him. A measure of pain was added to the increasingly glassy canvas of his eyes. Anger, hurt, concern, care... there were too many emotions to count, and Anubis could not help but wonder when the blank serpent became so infused with color.
Even so, despite the clearly laid out, complicated emotions of his gaze, Jörmungandr tried for a measure of gentleness. "Asta?"
Turning away from him, she ran down the hill and towards the strange pavilion in the distance, and as she got further away, that sinking feeling in Anubis's gut grew into a certainty.
"Ain, please keep an eye on her. I'd rather not waste the divinity I spent on her by another death."
She hurried after Asta, stopping next to him briefly to mutter, "You better explain what's going on when I get back with her."
He nodded, and turned his attention to the serpent who seemed numb.
Noting Jörmungandr's disheartened expression, he announced from the top of the hill, "It's not your fault, Jörmungandr."
The World Serpent glanced toward him, hope in his gaze.
"It is someone else's design, and though I know not who's, I can only assume they greatly dislike you. You'll have to ask them yourself the specifics, but from what I've been able to discern, a stigma of great power has been placed within Asta's mind. A stigma of fear, to be exact."
The Jackal hesitated a moment before clarifying, "A stigma against specifically you."
And if he could take back all of his words he would, because he had never seen such utter despair and pain within the young serpents gaze until this moment.
Indeed, this conference would certainly be an interesting one to attend.