In one of the train cars far away from where the fights had taken place, a young woman with long raven-black hair wearing a beige blouse dozed off in one of the comfortable cabin seats. Meanwhile, Evelyn and Luka watched over her ambivalently. Evelyn, the short woman wearing the frilly dress, had her hands cupped around her ears while Luka, the man with orange highlights and a green jacket, leaned back in his seat carelessly.
Charlotte had fallen asleep a while ago and had not stirred a bit since then. That was fortunate since it allowed them to avoid questions about what was happening. The highly advanced train was sound and shockproof so the chaos from the battle with the Wraith and Tierney had not affected them. However, it would be odd if they had to explain where the others were or keep her from leaving the car.
“Ms. Bookworm is a pretty heavy sleeper, huh?” Luka pointed out while he and Evelyn were seated directly to the side of Charlotte who had a dauntingly large book resting on her lap.
“Zip it, it’s better for us that she hasn’t woken up in all this time. I’d hate lying to keep up this whole facade.” Evelyn bitterly remarked as she listened in to what was transpiring throughout the rest of the train. Her Mystic Traits from being a Siren gave her enhanced hearing and a voice that could travel all the way to the end of the Subatlantic Express. She had been serving as a living radio tower the whole incident.
“What are you hearing now? Anything good?” Luka asked with some knowledge of her abilities. He kept himself occupied by drawing doodles in the air using his magical pen that used ether as ink. The masterpiece he was currently working on featured a duck making basketball shots.
“No. I need to focus for a while before I can pick up words from this far away and that only lasts for a short time before I lose ‘connection.’” She explained with an anxious tone. “There was a loud crash just now and I’ve been trying to get back that connection ever since. “Hold on…”
“...What’s going on?” Charlotte yawned as her eyes fluttered open. She started stretching her body after the long sleep.
“...And I’ve lost it,” Evelyn stated under her breath with Luka grinning. Her concentration was broken by Charlotte’s sudden awakening.
“Oh well, I’m sure they’ll have everything taken care of.” He optimistically asserted with a pat on Evelyn’s back that earned him a look of ire.
“What do you mean? Why aren’t the others back yet?” Charlotte asked worriedly while looking around the otherwise empty car.
Evelyn heaved a sigh as she would have to make a few white lies regardless now. “They’ve been back while you were asleep. They just decided to go around and take a tour of the Subatlantic Express while the train operators were working on getting up and running again.”
“Oh, I see. Do you know when they’ll get back?” Charlotte questioned earnestly.
Luka shook his head. “No idea. Who knows just how much fun they’re having without us.”
Charlotte frowned and looked wistfully to the door at the end of the car which earned Luka a well-placed elbow to his ribs from Evelyn.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t go check up on them? We should be arriving at Theater Atlantis soon and we have to make sure everyone’s prepared.” Charlotte said frankly.
“Nah, I’m sure they’ll be on their way back any minute now. In situations like this, they would get back as soon as we decided to look for them.” Evelyn hastily reasoned and Charlotte’s crinkled lips showed she did not exactly agree with that notion.
“...Fine, I’ll guess I’ll keep reading my book.” Charlotte relented as she opened up the story she had read countless times before, Jack and the Beanstalker.
***
Barely a moment had passed since they reunited with Nera and Xalia when everyone saw a group of people dressed in black appear out of thin air. This party of four consisted of an even number of men and women dressed in outfits reminiscent of law enforcement. The tells that they were not local police were the blatant use of magic and the “Advance Guard” badges on the shoulders of their uniforms.
“What are you glorified security guards doing here?” Nera derided with an air of disdain evident in her speech. She was standing in the doorway to the engine room filled with touchpads that covered the walls, a main generator that whirred almost silently, and cooling fans that regulated the temperature to precision.
“I suppose they’re here because we’re an hour later than the train was supposed to arrive.” Nathan hastily exposited. “We left early to deal with any troublesome matters before the play started, but our unforeseen delay probably caused our hosts some worry.”
The Advance Guards or simply known as the Guards were a private security contractor established and employed by the Atelier City Council and other high-ranking members of Crafter society in the city. They greatly exceeded the capacity of a normal organization of security guards as they were specifically formed to protect against supernatural threats to their clients’ well-being and interests.
They used anything from cutting-edge electronics to top-of-the-line Catalysts to carry out their role. Additionally, the Guards were trained to engage in prolonged combat whether with or without magic to avoid the scrutiny of the public eye as much as possible. Their whole reason for being formed was to avoid having to involve the mundane law enforcement in the affairs of Crafters as little as possible after all.
Needless to say, the coordinators of that night’s performance at Theater Atlantis had taken the group’s absence very seriously.
Hesitantly, Tierney walked up in front of the others. “You probably have more questions. I am the one-”
From the side of his view, Allen watched as Tierney started explaining the situation, only to have her and one of the Advance Guard members disappear from his sight and reappear with Tierney’s face planted on the ground. The Guard in question, a scowling woman with short brown hair, had a gun aimed directly at the half-elf’s head, Tierney’s face was contorted with surprise and discomfort.
“Don’t say another word or we’ll have to exercise additional force.” The brown-haired woman warned sternly.
“Hey, what are you doing? You don’t even know she had anything to do with the delay?” Allen rebuked harshly while gesturing for the guard to get off Tierney.
“Does she?” A stoic-sounding guard with black hair and piercing blue eyes questioned Allen directly. “Elves can command Spirits under their control with a single word, so I have to ask this before letting her speak.”
“...Yeah.” Allen nodded reluctantly. Even if she had voluntarily given up and they had reconciled on their own terms, he could not argue that she was not the main culprit behind this incident on the Subatlantic Express.
“That checks out, sir.” A tall guard with slicked-back dreads and an electronic device in his hands confirmed. “I’m getting a reading of a large amount of residual energy that matches hers a few cars down.”
“Good observation, Mcfadden.” The man who seemed to be in charge of this unit of Advance Guard acknowledged before turning to face Nathan with a look of cold vigilance at best. “You’re the owner of the Verre Chateau that’s going to be performing tonight, correct? Could you inform me how everyone was involved in this evening’s ordeal?”
Nathan thoroughly explained the last hour's events, including Tierney’s method of attack by controlling the Fossegrim Specter and how the Concealers put her up to the act. To Allen, it seemed like he was trying to deflect the blame on them as much as possible. He hoped that could give her some lenience and even more so, help them get to the bottom of how the Concealers were getting away with their schemes.
When he was done with this line of questioning, the leader of the Advance Guard and his subordinates all looked deeply troubled. “If the Paladins’ Concealers are truly capable of controlling Specters then that would be a difficult matter to untangle. Do you still have the Catalyst used?”
Nathan’s forehead creased in puzzlement as he tried to remember what happened to the tuning fork after Tierney separated it from her body. In all that chaos, its whereabouts had not been called to his attention. Xalia then took that moment of contemplation from Nathan to answer the question herself.
“We believe it fell into the water when the Wraith crashed into the train and were unable to locate it.” Xalia briskly informed the Guard without a hint of her usual mischievousness. Allen had a sneaking suspicion that was not the truth but he would discuss that with her later.
‘Pointing out a lie in front of these hardasses would just be asking for trouble.’
Guard Mcfadden, the one with the scanner, looked over in Xalia’s direction with a scrutinizing gaze and said, “Sir, I’m not sensing any animosity or nervousness from her. It appears she’s telling the truth but a further inspection will definitely be necessary to confirm the catalyst’s disappearance.”
Allen wondered how he could be so sure with his assessment. It was not like Sense could detect emotions as far as he knew.
Following his colleague, another Guard spoke up. “Captain Pomeroy, we need to try as much as possible to find that dangerous tool. It could be the evidence needed to finally make the Concealers face some real consequences.” This came from the blonde-haired man with a buzz cut who had been silent up until now.
“I hear what you two are saying but we need to take the suspect in and inform our superiors about these unsettling discoveries.” Captain Pomeroy relayed logically. Using Craft, he conjured a pair of cuffs that emitted a chill mist.
“What are those supposed to be?” Katelyn adamantly asked after seeing the strange object appear out of thin air. She could not see the sigil used to perform the Skill but the result was a physical construct.
“Don’t worry, these are just insurance. They’ll freeze her in place instantly if she tries to use magic.” The captain said in a lukewarm attempt to assuage the woman’s fears.
“And how long will you hold onto her and whose call is that? You’re still just private contractors officially and the Paladins themselves were the ones who coerced her into committing the crime.” Katelyn pointed out while walking up to the Advance Guard. “Guilty or not, I need to know who’ll be deciding my friend’s fate before I let you take her.”
“Potential participant for the Festival or not, you don’t have the authority to demand that information from me,” Pomeroy replied forcefully. Katelyn glared back at him but before she could give him a piece of her mind, Allen stepped in between the two.
“Hey, how about we come to an agreement that benefits everyone?” Allen proposed the notion to de-escalate the situation. “Tierney has a bunch of shady information on the Concealers that I’m sure your bosses would want to hear and the people at the Verre Chateau have spent enough time with her to help verify those claims.”
Captain Pomeroy remained silent for a while as he took in that suggestion and looked over to where Tierney was still pressed against the floor. “Howard, let her up.” Using what Allen suspected to be her surname, Pomeroy motioned for the brown-haired woman to allow Tierney to her feet.
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“I’ll consider it. What are your demands? Keep in mind that it will be the Council that decides whether they’re acceptable.” The guard told this to Katelyn while indirectly informing her who would determine Tierney’s fate.
Katelyn thought carefully before speaking. “We help by giving this intel and you give Tierney a lighter sentencing and possible early release under our supervision if it comes to that.”
Captain Pomeroy contemplated the proposal for a moment. “That’s reasonable. I’ll be sure to deliver those terms to my superiors, so keep in touch with us through this.” He handed her a card with the number for the Advance Guard’s base of operations and then asked Tierney herself a question.
“Do you agree to these terms as well, Elf?” The way he spat that last word out made it sound like a curse.
“Yes, I’ll gladly help you by revealing the Concealers’ secrets.” Tierney readily co-opted the plan while ignoring his obvious contempt for her.
“Alright, then. We’re moving out team. Nielsen, apprehend the suspect.” Pomeroy handed the cuffs that Allen now noticed were made of pure ice to Nielson who cuffed himself to Tierney. The young man wondered how the guard would avoid being frozen himself if they activated.
Before they left, Tierney gave Connor a regretful farewell. “I’m sorry for what I did to you.” She began while talking about the time she attacked him as a diversion. “I tried to make it do as least damag-no, that doesn’t matter. I’m not entitled to it, but I just hope you can forgive me with time.”
Connor scoffed with a bitter frown. “Time isn’t going to do anything. If you want to make amends, make sure you come back and contribute twice as much as you did before.” He tried to avoid eye contact by looking at anything else but he could not help taking one last melancholic look at someone he would have trusted with his life not thirty minutes ago.
He regretted seeing how sappy Tierney looked as she nodded in response to his condemnation. “If everything goes well, I want to start over again as someone you can truly trust and rely on.” She began with a heartfelt look at Katelyn. “With a singular exception, I loved the time I spent with my troupe members. I’m a great musician but not that great of an actor. …I really am so-”
Katelyn stopped her with a sudden hug. The other members of Advance Guard jumped at the unexpected action but a raised hand from Captain Pomeroy squashed their uncertainty. They simply allowed the moment to play out for a little while longer.
“Make sure that what you’ve promised already isn’t a lie and I’ll do my part to start trusting you again, alright?” The violinist declared solemnly.
“..Of course.” Tierney choked out those words through a shaky voice.
With that, the Advance Guard vanished along with Tierney in a blur just like how they arrived. Allen wondered if their speed of movement was the reason behind the “advance” part of their name. They had managed to enter the train and settle matters in the ten minutes right before the train came to its destination at Theater Atlantis.
***
After that, they entered into the underwater theater without any further complications. Theater Atlantis was a large and grand playhouse with thousands of seats arranged circularly to give a good view of the stage no matter where one sat. The stage itself was as wide as several houses standing side by side and made of luxuriously lacquered wood. Lovely red curtains that were nine meters in height opened and closed smoothly between every scene change. Up above their heads was a giant glass dome that showed the crystal clear waters of the ocean.
Virtuoso had been given great seats from one of the balconies to watch the performance along with some of the other members of Verre Chateau who had already arrived and done their part. The audience was utterly full to the brim with important officials and the wealthy elites of Atelier City with Allen suspecting, rightfully so, that many of them were aware of Craft too.
Most importantly, Verre Chateau was doing a modern reimagining of the story of The Little Mermaid with Katelyn playing the role of the eponymous character. However, there were a few changes that made it slightly different from the original fairy tale. Instead of giving her a potion, the witch in this story, played by Evelyn, was the keeper of an enchanted tower that could grant one who could climb it the ability to walk on land at the cost of something they treasured. Another change to accentuate Katelyn’s exceptional skills better was that once the mermaid lost her voice, she picked up the violin to express herself instead.
“Wow, I can’t believe I went this whole time without learning what the play was,” Allen commented halfway through the performance. Meanwhile, Charlotte sat next to him on his right while watching the play intensely.
“Oh right, you’re a member of the troupe as well. What was your job?” Allen casually asked.
Charlotte was startled by the impromptu question and fidgeted with her fingers a bit before saying, “I’m actually the scriptwriter. I picked the story and adapted The Little Mermaid to fit with what we’re going for better.”
“Oh, that’s impressive. What gave you the idea to do that?”
“It was this book, another fairy tale reimagining.” Charlotte showed off the book she’d been reading on the train which Allen remembered as being the one she purchased from Coffee & Chronicles last week. “You’d probably have to deduct some points for originality, but I couldn’t help but feel like translating some of the symbolism to this play would work well.”
Allen reflected on what he could remember about the Jack and the Beanstalker to understand what she was referring to. “Umm, do you mean something about ascending to new heights or something? That tower in the play is like the giant beanstalk in the book.” He finally came up with what the allusion could possibly be but everyone knew the giant beanstalk was something in the original fairy tale itself.
Charlotte nodded anyway and tapped that same book sitting on her lap. “That and more, this story is about a man whose home was carried off into the clouds when the mysterious seeds he wasted his family’s savings on grew into a giant tower made of vines. It’s a tale about trading the familiar for wonder and new discoveries.”
“Huh, I always took it as a cautionary tale about the dangers of ambition or maybe be careful what you wish for.” Allen leaned back in his cushy seat as he told her this. The young man was surprised by the message she had taken from the dark retelling but that was not enough to alarm him at all.
“...Sorry, I didn’t realize how odd that would sound.”
Allen waved her worries away and pointed a thumb behind him where Nera was seated. “Don’t sweat it, Nera’s said way worse.”
Nera yawned as she awoke from sleeping through most of the play. “What are you saying about me? It better be thanks for carrying my side of the job.”
“Nah, but you’d know if you actually kept your eyes open for longer than a minute. Don’t you want to see the play we worked so hard to make sure could happen?” Allen remarked.
Nera shook her head as she closed her eyes again. “It’s been a busy few days and I got to open the store early in the morning tomorrow. That’s what pays my rent. Fill me in on how good Evelyn’s performance was later so she won’t get upset.” She drifted back to slumber seamlessly.
Allen then realized how it sounded like he was taking credit for the Verre Chateau’s hard work when to Charlotte, they had not done anything at all.
“...Sorry, I may be exaggerating how much we helped out when we went to check on the train operators on the train.” The teen elaborated with a nervous chuckle.
“Don’t worry about that either. If my romanticizing a horror story about man-eating giants in the sky can be overlooked, I can do the same with this.”
“Well, maybe music could’ve made them easier to get along with.” Allen grinned which earned a laugh from Charlotte. Like that, they chatted the rest of the play until the finale. That was when a part that truly surprised Allen appeared. At the climax, Katelyn summoned Fossegrim and used real magic to restore the tattered state props of the play’s finale to normal. Of course, it led to raucous applause from what many assumed were just highly advanced special effects while others who were fully aware of what happened were even more impressed.
‘Did they all have this planned from the very start or…’ From one look at Charlotte beside him, he could tell she was just astounded as he was.
In the play, Fossegrim would not only restore the land ravaged by storms but also the mermaid’s voice so she could reveal to the world who she truly was.
***
Over Allen and his friends’ heads, at the very highest level of the balconies, a group of nine individuals watched the play carefully for themselves. They were a collection of Underworld elites that made up the City Council. They were otherwise known as the leaders of the Nine Founding Families of Atelier City.
The gallery was a spacious area with comfortable made-to-order furniture for everyone to enjoy an ample amount of leisure while more conventional theater seats lined the railing for a better view of any performance on the stage. Sitting in this section were two of the council. One was a middle-aged woman with hair wrapped in on bun on top of her head and fingers adorned with rings that suited the color of her turquoise pantsuit. She watched intently and silently at what occurred during the play’s climax.
“Interesting, the girl can now summon the Greater Spirit, Fossegrim. This proves that common people are capable of wielding such catalysts for themselves regardless of whether the gift of Craft dwells within them or not. Along with that, the Verre Chateau’s performance was even more impeccable than usual.” Hydrus Erstad, the other councilor at the railing lauded. He was a tall man dressed in a purple blazer over a gold vest with dark hair and eyes. He made this appraisal while watching pensively from the balcony’s edge. “That report the Guard sent you turned out to be true, Leroux.”
Hydrus turned to a younger man sitting down at his seat with silver hair and cybernet green eyes with arrows pointing in opposite directions replacing his pupils. He wore a sleek business suit and multiple holographic screens floating around him, keeping him updated on all matters of going-ons throughout the city, including urgent briefings from Advance Guard.
“Indeed, I had my doubts when we decided to endorse this whole parade, but it seems our curiosity paid off. I’m even more curious now to perform some more controlled testing with better instruments to see just how the mental connection between Spirit and summoner works for a Craftless.”
“On the contrary, what could be a more controlled test than a high-production theater performance in front of a group of the most esteemed residents of the city? I’m already prepared to donate a considerable amount to the troupe to see what other stars they can produce.” Hydrus inquired rhetorically.
“Hmph, you talk about the municipal budget as if it were your personal bank account.” A stern woman with her auburn hair tied into a waist-length ponytail closed the book she was reading and stood to inspect the air in front of them. It shimmered with walls of sigils of a uniform, amber glow. This barrier completely sealed off their presence from the outside. It was like being in a room-sized underworld of their own where no one could enter or even be aware this location ever existed. “We also confirmed the existence of that spectral manipulator tonight. If anything, we should be spending more on security to protect our citizens.”
“Well, he is the treasurer of Atelier City, so its riches might as well be his,” vouched a gorgeous blonde woman who possessed a well-toned figure and a pure emerald dress with slits that revealed the sides of her long legs. She was Yolande Flandin, matriarch of the Flandin family who prided themselves in a physical superiority that matched that of Jotun. “For good reason, it’s much more beneficial to pour our resources into training up worthy prospects than building more prisons like you would suggest.”
The two women stared at each other down with enough pressure to crush anyone unfortunate to cross between.
“Last night, two of the Valkyrie’s Chosen revealed themselves with lights that dyed the very skies. There is no need to pretend that all the steps necessary have not been laid for us to take anymore.” A man who sat apart from the others with combed-back brown hair and an inflexible expression suddenly spoke in a voice that resounded in all their ears equally. His head rested on his fist as looked toward the rest. Of course, his fellow council members understood the truth in his words, and everyone’s thoughts aligned with what they all knew should be their next step.
“I agree. This is our first meeting since the Sword in Stone Festival was announced, exactly as foretold, and the ‘roles’ are steadily being painted in as time goes on.” A grizzled, bearded man with black hair and a muscular build got up from his seat in the center of the council. The distinguished man began walking to the balcony's edge with a cane emblazoned with a lightning bolt. He walked past the two other leaders of the founding families. One was a grinning man with a large coat draped over his shoulders who flourished a full deck of Craft Cards between his hands back and forth. The other was a woman in gothic attire who slept in the lap of a statue in the form of a giant maiden with ethereal eyes that followed whoever walked near her.
When he arrived at the railing of the gallery, he raised his hand above it and the man with the holographic screens immediately tapped one of them which virtually shifted their environment to that of a large metal chamber filled with murals of legendary events and a grand wooden board in the middle.
It was covered with numerous pictures but only five percent of the top was colored in while the rest remained monochrome. On its surface, there sat nine ornate pillars of marble as if this whole display was meant for some esoteric board game. Two of those pillars emitted emerald and crimson light, respectively.
“Destiny has guided us this far and we will share that wisdom as far as possible. To that end, we will devote all our resources to securing the foretold pieces in this so-called ‘festival.’” The elder of the council proclaimed unquestioned. “The Concealers have finally shown themselves for the scoundrels they are, but we are not going to let that discovery be the only treasure we collect from this incident. People or machines. Myth or theory. Spirits or Specters. We will obtain any tool that is needed to take the sun’s role as the light that shines upon this earth.”
The elder lowered his hand to a dim piece that stood on the board, and it filled with a hauntingly white light.