When Ludovico finished his initial inspection of the 'scene of the crime' he returned to the entrance of the vault with a slow pace, his expression betraying the distracting nature of his thoughts. He stands silently for a long moment, hooking his thumbs into his belt and looking down. There was little to the physical facts of the situation that would prove useful to his investigation. The intensity of his concentration was not however on continueing to search for some niggling 'clue' from the physical detritus that had so far refused to yield one. Instead it was on blocking away the spiritual aspects of this place, this situation, so that he could appertain the physical aspect unclouded at first. The time for that however was at an end.
Ludovico closes his eyes for a brief breath, letting it out and then opening his eyes as a breathes in once again. This momentary action mimicks his intent of bringing in the 'other' world. The spiritual. Of course he has long ago stopped thinking of it as another world. It is there for those who can't see it just as well.
While the physical vault was relatively at peace, if not order, the spiritual microcosm of the same space was in complete chaos and uproar. The silence apparent to those without spiritual senses concealed a strikingly different cacophony of cries and upset in the spirits of the place.
Ludovico had seen the minds of weaker men broken by lesser sights. Those unprepared for the true splendor of the -reality- of the world in all of it's hidden majesty. Village Seers, old and broken by their many encounters with spirits they knew how to see yet not how to put down. Apprentices in his own tradition succumbed to ambition greater than their power, left in bloody ruin by that which they had called up yet could not contain.
Not so he. He, he had survived, and in so doing garnered knowledge. And power.
The spirits of the vault are many, he came to see. Many of the great artifacts therein had mighty spirits of their own. Some were bound, in the forging. Others were accruals of sympathy and power with the might and significance of the artifact itself. The place, indeed, had it's own somber spirits in attendance. They looked perhaps as if long ago they had striven to keep order here, and long ago given up.
The vault, like much else in the world for those who sought truth in earnest, was a world unto itself. All of this assaulted his senses at once, and left him blinking for a moment. Then control returned and he again surveyed the vault with his cool eyes.
The spirit of a magical vigil candle crumpled and sobbed at his feet when it realized he could see it. A shrivelled spirit, withered with age and frail of form. It's eyes, eyes indeed, were bright, sharp, and vibrant things. A keen wit if a simple intellect dwelled therein. [color=blue] "I SAW them! Oh, Master, I SAW them! But I wasn't LIT! How can I warn you Master, if I am not LIT? Oh the HORROR! I saw! I saw the Carpet, the gutter-sneak! I've known, I've known for YEARS! But I've never been lit! Oh, Master... Master I've wanted to tell. Waited, for ANYONE. Oh, how I've waited. But now you've come! Now I can tell you! The Carpet, oh that vile creature, the Carpet is a TRAITOR!" The small creature continued on. It spoke with vim and verve, a lively thing. The loathing of the Carpet and it's treachery was obvious and intense, full of grave gestures and murderous hatred.
The pitiful creature's obvious loyalty had a winning effect on Ludovico immediately. He knelt down and confered with it more closely, offering some consolation with his expression and an outstretched hand. [color=red] "Tell me Candle, and tell me true. How do you know of such villainy on the part of the Carpet? The Carpet has been a servant of the Castle for long and long, I am told. The Masters would be shocked to hear of such treachery."