Silence reigned in Lord Orlein’s study for several moments as they digested the weight of his words.
“What do we know about them?” Midhir asked as he realised if he didn’t speak, no one would.
“Nothing,” Lord Orlein spoke with a grave tone. “The city watch first took notice of them a fortnight ago. They counted at least a dozen different people, but since they all dressed similarly and wore cloaks and hoods, there could be more of them.” He leaned back on his seat, closing his eyes momentarily. “Until now, all we could do within the confines of the law was to watch them. The only reason we are absolutely certain these are the same people who left the markings in the old palace ruins is because one of them was caught in the fire and died this morning.” He made a small gesture with his hands.
Aodan quickly walked past them, approaching the shelves lining the walls, and took a small lockbox. He brought it to Lord Orlein, then left the room, closing the doors behind him.
Lord Orlein carefully opened the lockbox, then turned it towards them.
A small, elegant ring made of silver was placed on the red velvet. It carried a sigil. Midhir stepped forward absentmindedly to take a better look at it. “May I?” he asked, gesturing towards it.
Lord Orlein’s lips curled up ever so slightly. “Of course,” he said with a faint smile.
The sigil depicted a twelve part snake devouring its own tail. There were two white gems embedded where its eyes would have been.
He absentmindedly rubbed his left eye as he scowled. He had seen this symbol before. “Alchemists?” he asked without thinking. This symbol existed long before Eldoria or Calador did. “This can’t be…”
Lord Orlein nodded. “Indeed, from what we could gather, this is a symbol long outdating Eldoria, or any known civilisation. Symbols like these don’t just appear for no reason – this is plenty enough to cause alarm.”
“What can we do?” Alistair stepped forward, looking over Midhir’s shoulder to see the sigil. “What is our task?”
“Today, you rest.” Lord Orlein raised his hand before Alistair could protest. “Tomorrow, I want you to act as guards for a historian who specializes in these more obscure parts of history. You will take him to the old palace ruins. We found several odd markings in different places, so I want you to check the entire area for more clues.”
“Wouldn’t it be better if we just chased after the perpetrators?” Willow asked with a scowl. “The more time we waste, the further away they can get, or deeper they can burrow.”
“No,” Arwen piped up, though clearly it took her some courage to speak up. “We don’t know their goal, and a symbol like that,” she pointed at the ring in Midhir’s hand. “Lord Orlein is right, ancient symbols like this carry meaning and power. They rally people behind them, all with a goal in mind. We don’t know what their goal is – what if there are more of them, not currently in Bareon?”
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Alistair nodded. “Besides, we would only get in the way of the city watch, and there are only four of us. We are better suited to work with father to uncover their goals.”
“Indeed.” Lord Orlein forced a smile. “My apologies for ending this early, but there is a lot of work to be done. I won’t be able to join you for dinner, but please do enjoy yourselves and rest well for tomorrow.”
It was their cue to leave, so Midhir placed ring back into the lockbox, bowed, and followed Willow and Arwen outside. Alistair stayed behind, waiting silently until the doors closed behind them.
“Have you lost your mind?” Willow hissed, grabbing his arm and glaring daggers at him. “Lord Orlein is one of the most important nobles in the empire, and you just acted so casually!” Her voice was a sharp whisper.
Midhir chuckled awkwardly. “It’s fine,” he muttered, averting his gaze. “We needed to properly see the sigil and none of you were saying anything.”
“The twelve-part snake eating its own tail…” Arwen pursed her lips, twirling her hair around her finger. “I’ve seen it in some history books, and I know it’s relation with alchemy, but I don’t understand why it appeared now of all times, and why it’s here.”
Willow let go of Midhir’s arm. “It’s worrying. Last time something like this happened, An’Larion’s thirteenth district was destroyed.”
Midhir’s gaze snapped to her. “What do you mean?”
“Some family of an ancient lineage dabbled in long lost forbidden arts.” Willow shrugged, “And then the Veil tore apart, and the mist invaded half the city. Later it was pushed back to the thirteenth district, but the veil probably hasn’t been fully repaired yet.” She waved her hand dismissively. “That’s what dad told me, at least.”
“Do you think it’s related to what’s happening here?” Arwen asked, tilting her head as she pondered. Willow simply shrugged in response – they had no way of knowing after all.
“If I may interject,” the elderly butler’s voice startled him. “Would you like me to show you the way to the chambers assigned to you for the duration of your stay?”
“Please,” Midhir forced a smile, unable to push Willow’s words to the back of his mind. Could they be related?
Aodan led them through the winding hallways to their chambers, which were lavishly decorated, albeit not overly large. “I will come back when dinner is ready, so please rest in preparation of tomorrow. Tough times are ahead.” He bowed, then left.
The girl’s chambers were on the other side of the hallway, while Midhir’s was at the very end of it. Aside for a bed and a couch and low table, the room was mostly empty. Sure, there were soft carpets lining the floor, and tapestry and paintings hanging from the walls, but the room wasn’t made crowded by the sheer amount of furniture.
A large, tall window showed him a beautiful view of white flowers, with Bareon itself in the backdrop. Beyond the city, he could see the overgrown forests. Alistair was right, it was difficult to imagine Bareon surrounded by fertile fields, instead of these ancient forests filled with towering trees.
He placed his belongings somewhere, then changed into a more comfortable set of clothes. There was no point in wearing his Solus uniform here – all it did was draw attention.
Soon after he finished getting changed, he heard a knock on the door. Curious, he opened the door to see the captain of the city watch standing there.
She looked at him from head to toe, as if she was weighing his worth before she spoke. Her grey eyes met his. “Young Lord Alistair has asked me to inform you that the manor has its own training grounds. If you wish to go there, I will accompany you.”