“Hey, Ross?” I hear after a rapping on my door.

“Come in,” I call. “Door’s open.”

In enters the maroon-haired innkeeper, “do you have a minute?”

“Depends on what you need it for,” I turn around and away from my newest design.

“How did you study or .. research back in school?” He asks, body language showing slight nervousness.

“I just sat in my room and either read my notes a billion times or did exercises. Why do you ask?”

“I’m trying to… research, something with little information. But I was never the smart one in class.”

“Can I know what this ‘research’ is? Different methods are used for different subjects.”

Jyrasck chews his lip for a moment, “I guess it could be called history.” He shrugs a little, I analyze his motions as he does so, catching onto the wandering eye he now possesses as he refuses to make eye-contact.

“Little information… history… are you referring to the World Wars? The first and second records were somewhat lost to time, but the third wa—”

“N-no. Not the World Wars. I-it’s tough to explain.”

“I could help if you want it, but the more details you provide, the more likely I could assist.”

Jyrasck, now fidgeting with his thin, silver necklace, “promise me you won’t tell the girls? They’d want in on it, indefinitely.”

“Won’t say a word.”

He starts explaining in great detail how he wants to find the old innkeeper’s killer. How there’s no autopsy released for him, and the Jake Thompson from the news this morning might have also been a victim. I tell him to come back with all the articles and what-not he has so far. He returns with a newspaper and pieces of writing he did. Going through it all, I find nothing linking this “Jake” to “Eldric”, the old innkeeper.

Maybe nobody’s talking about it or sending news out on it because it’s only two deaths. Serial killers are only called so after the third victim. And Jyrasck’s notes say it was maybe an organization called “RTU” with “Kill the Curio save the pure” as their slogan or something. But I can’t go saying to just wait until a third life is lost to Jyrasck, but what else could I say?

I think over my options, “this isn’t much. If we had information on the witness of this Jake dude, that’d be nice. What we really need is what and who RTU is. Did they just pop up outta nowhere?”

Jyrasck nods, “that’s what I was thinking. But how can we get that intel?” He asks before his eyes light up like a lantern. “Or should I say who we get the information from?”

“Wha–?”

----------------------------------------

“Who do you want me to look into?” Mist asks, staring at the taller male blankly.

“Can you check if anyone had ‘Jake Thompson’ on their minds?” Jyrasck inquires back.

Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

Mist turns back to her breakfast, “wasn’t that the guy from yesterday’s paper?”

“Yeah, could you try to find one of his relatives or something?”

“Why?”

“We’re tryna find my old man’s–”

“Okay.”

Jyrasck and I exchange glances. That was quick, for Mist at least. “Jake Thompson, whaddid’ he look like?” She asks, cat ears rotating towards the long haired man.

“Sandy blonde hair with hazel eyes and a tattoo on the outer wrist,” I recite from the article.

“Didn’t ask you,” Mist snips. “I’ll work on that when I get the chance.”

I go to retaliate before getting cut off by Jyrasck’s thanks. He glances at myself as if to tell me to not start anything. I huff, snatching up a newspaper slightly more aggressive than normal.

“I don’t understand why she’s so… irritable all the time, thinking she’s better than someone six years older than her. And I have a proper education as well, I m–”

“Calm down Mr. Acting-like-a-mom-who-doesn’t-know-how-to-respond-to-their-child’s-teenage-behavior.” Jyrasck jokes.

“I’m not acting like a— holy crap I’m acting like a mom.” My brain clicks mid-sentence. I look to see Jyrasck holding back a fit of laughter and lower my eyes to a glare. “One sentence is all it took, a single sentence,” I mutter to myself.

We investigate the newspaper carefully, coming across a few minor headlines about crime in Belduar. Nothing relating to the two deceased men. Jyrasck huffs, “well butt. I hate to say it, but I guess we have to wait to find this RTU organization until the officials give out more details.” He leans back from the paper with a discontent sigh. “I don’t wanna wait for another person to get offed, but it looks like our only option.”

I hold back a cheerful hand-pump, “yeah. Well it looks like it’s a week-by-week killing so we don’t have to wait nine months or something.”

He nods, “that’s what it looks like. I guess we–”

A jingle of bells rings and cuts Jyrasck off, we both look up to see a couple enter the inn. Elena scrambles out from the back of the bar to seat them. Customers? Was last night bringing in more people? I see Jyrasck’s eyes contemplating the same thing. His slight huff of getting interrupted turns slowly into an exasperated grin. He hops up out of his seat to cater to the newcomers.

“Welcome to the Yoliho Inn, the pleasant hole-in-the-wall that’ll suit all of your needs, may I take your order?”

----------------------------------------

The day passes, the inn relatively more filled than the days before. Though we’ve only been here for four days. By three or so in the afternoon, there were a couple people using the place like a café while I loiter behind the bar.

Chi-ling—! The bell announces as a girl my age walks in with a swift, quiet motion. She quickly glances around, skeptically looking towards the bar. A moment passes before she takes place near the end of the counter, quietly opening a small crossword puzzle book. I recognize it to be the Great Discoveries and Inventions of All Time 758 Edition. That’s the one I gave up on a ways through… I think.

Curiously, I walk over, “anything to drink?”

“Do you have tea?” She replies, jolting up from the book.

“Herbal or black?” I answer back, spinning around.

“Do you have earl gray?”

“If you’re willing to wait.”

The chestnut haired girl looks distant for a moment, as if thinking of what to say next before simply glancing back down and fiddling with her pencil again. I’m leaning on the counter just beside the woman and subtly observing the page she’s on.

2: Council of Pioneers used these to light meeting rooms

I read internally, that’s gotta be cover torches right? I glance at the actual puzzle, seeing the slots were enough and empty. How do I interact without seeming weird or creepy? Isn’t this position already off-putting though? Should I just start talking? No, I need a reason or else I have a higher chance of just starting an awkward silence. Oh, right, the tea!

I jolt up quickly and remove the tea bag from the glass cup, sliding it before the curly haired peer. “Do you want any help with that crossword?” I ask, resisting the urge to add on to the sentence.

She sets the glass beside herself, “if you are of any.”

I lean down from across the bar, “that one’s probably cover torches.”

“Oh, nice catch.”

We talk and talk, filling in the words as time passes. Soon, an hour goes by and she leaves the inn as the dinner rush enters. I switch with Fareed and go up to my inn room. I look out the window, which has an indecent view of an alleyway beside the inn. Dinner rush goes on throughout the hours until nightfall (around six-fifteen or so), then comes gambling games and thirty-year-olds and older unwinding from a long day. Either that or rebellious teens staying out for long enough to make me wonder if their parents are out on the town too. I hear them clatter about beneath my room along with the chirp of laughter.

Kinda like that inn back at Yalev now that I think about it. I take off my glasses, observing my craftsmanship before placing it on my desk and shuffling into the large single bed, shutting my eyes to think myself to sleep.

I just hope this RTU killer person doesn’t take too long…