"Have you ever heard of the Vadels?”
The man frowned slightly as he tapped his fingers on the couch’s armrest in thought. “The name rings a bell, but I can’t remember where I’ve heard it before. Members of the Faction?”
Lucille nodded and swung her feet around, sitting back up on the couch. “I was in a frontier region a while ago and happened to meet two young noble cousins who had said their surname was Vadel, one a mage, and the other a manager who wore the Alichanteu’s Faction insignia.”
Vincent paused and then nodded. “Of course. The Vadels are a Baron family from a Major Kingdom. I believe they own several alchemy stores and are responsible for part of a city’s operation in their Viscounty.” He frowned again. “Why would they be in a frontier region?”
“That’s what I would like to discover.” She responded. “The manager said he was there on a holiday, but it was painfully obvious that wasn’t true.”
“The Commission’s businesses are targeted towards the Empire and Mystical Realm, which is predominately made up of humanoid beings. If a manager went to a frontier region of the Beast Realm, where his title holds little power to protect him, then he’s either foolish or has another agenda.” He thought aloud, crossing one leg over the other. “Although…” he continued, looking slightly troubled. “I have heard interesting rumours about the state of the Blue County.”
“Its state?” Lucille asked, leaning forward to listen intently. “They’re not selling off property or getting into debt are they?”
“Nothing so extreme.” Vincent refuted. “As a member of the main bloodline with very weak inheritance rights, I’m not kept too up to date about these things, but I’ve heard they’re going through a succession war of some sort.”
She leaned back with an eyebrow raised incredulously. “A succession war? And nobody knows about this?”
He shrugged. “It’s written in the Faction rules that the Counties are not to get involved with each other besides occasionally collaborating and dealing with Faction emergencies. We are merchant clans first and foremost, and so, as long as a Count has talent enough that it keeps the County afloat, we’ll accept it. Our bloodline loyalties aren’t particularly strong compared to other Empire nobility in the first place.”
She nodded but still wanted to know more. “Why are they having a succession war at all?”
“I heard some time ago the Alichanteu Count collapsed, but Evisenhardt hasn’t heard of any either good or bad developments occurring from it, or if they have, they haven’t told me.” He told her. “Alichanteu strictly follows the tradition of the current Count’s descendants being the main bloodline, and so they only have three major successors this generation from the Count’s blood, as he only had one son, who died twenty years ago. The third and youngest successor, his granddaughter, has expressed no interest in politics, and so the County is split between supporting the eldest or the middle child, both male.”
“Different mothers?” Lucy asked. Vincent nodded and she hummed. “If the Counties don’t have much publicly available information on the internal status of the Alichanteu, then I’m assuming they can’t tell which side holds the greater power either. I suppose we’ll be able to tell by seeing which successor comes as their representative. I remember you said only the Alichanteu Count wouldn’t be coming in person.”
She frowned slightly. “That means the weaker side will plant one of their members besides the representative so they can observe our interactions and have a private discussion with me. If they don’t, then it means something else has happened.”
She looked off into the distance with a far look, reviewing her plans for the meeting. “If they’re from different mothers, it is possible that some other force is trying to involve themselves in the Faction’s politics. That might endanger the Commission’s neutral status, and if so, I could potentially need to involve myself with the Alichanteu more directly under the pretext of protecting our neutrality.”
She returned her gaze to the table and leaned forward to pick up her mug. “This might be extremely profitable if I play my cards right.”
Vincent eyed her suspiciously. “That sounds distinctly ominous.”
When she didn’t say anything and just grinned, he sighed and leaned back in defeat. “It seems whatever you’re planning on doing at the meeting doesn’t just involve the plans you gave me, from my perspective. Would I be able to hold back on answering your request about becoming an aide until after the meeting?”
“Do as you see fit,” Lucille said, giving him a small wave. “Can I ask you to look into that ‘holiday’ of the Vadels?”
He nodded. “I was planning on doing that regardless. It could be a clue to discovering what is happening within the strangely silent County and would probably interest Evisenhardt to know of this as well.” He said, looking slightly hesitant as he glanced at her. “Do you mind if-”
“I don’t care if you reveal that to them,” Lucy replied, understanding what he wanted. “Just make sure to tell me if Evisenhardt discovers anything else in return.”
He dipped his head in agreeance before looking up. “Do you have any names to start the search?”
She tapped on her chin in thought. “The navy-blue-haired mage was called Marellen, I believe.” She closed her eyes to review her memories in more detail. “The blonde manager was called… hmm…. ” She snapped her fingers. Not that she needed to think that long with her eidetic memory. “Efratel. That was it.”
“I’ll relay that to my grandfather. Although, I’ve been meaning to ask something ever since we sat down and used that jug.” He said, looking at the mug in her hands.
“What are you drinking? It looks rather dark to me.”
Lucille blinked and then smiled as she tilted the mug for him to see inside.
“Yes, well, I do love my coffee black.”
Unfortunately for Vincent, her response didn’t actually tell him what coffee was.
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- Sometime during the end of July -
In the golden light of the afternoon sun, an icy blanket of snow gleamed and glistened, the world completely silent besides the rustling of leaves from a few distant trees. The ground was still and unmoving, and few would know that an avalanche had passed through the area just a few moments ago unless they noticed the odd branch sticking out of the white surface now and then. Besides five specific individuals.
Crunch.
Instead of branches, in one certain area, the icy carpet was punctured by a tanned hand, after which was revealed to be connected to a long arm, then shoulder, and then upper body as a brown-haired, green-eyed man with ice crystals still coating the tips of his hair pushed himself up and wiggled his way out of the thick snow. He vigorously shook his head to remove the crystals and stood up, planting his hands on his hips as he surveyed the area.
“That was a much wilder ride than I remembered signing up for.” Garthe Barbosas announced, looking around at the havoc wreaked by the man-made avalanche that descended upon the convoy in the Permafrost Glacial Abode.
Then he yelped as a cold pale hand wrapped itself around his ankle, and he waved his arms around to regain his balance as a raven-haired woman, still spitting out ice, pulled on his leg to raise herself out of the snow.
Larena Barbosas gazed up at him, unimpressed. “If you have time to reflect on your experiences, you have time for other things. Help me up.”
Garthe hastily grabbed her arms to pull her out, and she stood back up, brushing off the ice particles coating her black-leather pants. “Are the others fine?” she asked at last, frowning slightly as she looked for signs of the rest of her party.
“Should be. The skill only cut out a minute ago, which was when I decided to try to get out. I felt three mana connections coming from around here, here, and somewhere over there.” He said, pointing to three different spots with vague gestures of his hand. “I’m hoping we’ll sense their mana when we get closer. Luckily none of them got pushed over the cliff. The avalanche was at the end of its run.”
She nodded and they set to work trying to find areas where the snow dipped slightly or seemed to move, looking for signs of the others being underneath the thick icy layer. Garthe spotted a mop of messy navy-blue hair sticking out of the snow at one point, so after a bit of digging he managed to pull out a very bedraggled-looking Marellen, who coughed and spluttered as he tried to peer around, his glasses askew. Eventually, he straightened up once he had fixed them and looked at Garthe.
“That was an interesting skill you used. Or was it a spell? Wait, no mana-circle.” He said, shaking his head and sending bits of snow scattering. “So, skill. From what my mana-sense tells me, it had a rather high ratio of wood mana rather than earth, which makes it rather interesting how it functioned so well when ice and water mana are so predominant here in this region. I suppose the linking mechanisms allowed it to draw on the mana of other-”
“Time for that later, bud. There’s still two more buried, one of which is your cousin.” Garthe told him, slightly exasperated.
Marellen blinked his eyes in belated realisation as he noticed their surroundings, and Garthe shook his head wryly. Suddenly, they both flinched as they heard a muffled sound coming from their right, below the snowy carpet.
“Excuse me.” Came the elegant, refined and very cold voice of Roa Winteridge who did not seem to be happy.
They turned to see a small mound of snow strewn with cracks on the ground, slowly moving up and down, but not breaking. Garthe and Marellen shared a look before they both scrambled to dig into the ground. With a little effort, they both leaned back as a fiery-coloured glowing stone made its appearance before them, attached to an ash-grey staff. They looked down the hole to see Roa standing within a deep hollow area in the ground, the snow melding together to form a glass-like surface all around her. She gestured with the staff to the small cave around her.
“I attempted to melt the ice around myself using a weak fireball, expecting I could use my ice magic to form a tunnel. Unfortunately, the magical signature of the spell-caster still infests this artificial avalanche we found ourselves buried under, so I couldn’t move any of the snow after it had refrozen, causing me to find myself in this predicament. I don’t believe I can get out using magic, and will need you, Garthe, who has the physique of a warrior, to aid me in leaving.” She narrowed her eyes. “Preferably now. Before I get angry.” She added, seeing they hadn’t moved.
The two men looked down at her and then looked at each other.
“Do you think that was elf-speak for ‘oh please help me great and mighty handsome warrior, I need your suuuper strong fit body to lift me up’?” Garthe asked.
Marellen frowned and scratched the side of his face. “I think that was actually ‘Get me out you insufferable male imbeciles before I incinerate you both’. The cool tone of her voice makes it sound more pleasant.”
They sheepishly looked down as the snow elf gave a long drawn-out sigh and rubbed her temples, glaring at them both. “Remove me from this icy pit before it becomes your eternal grave.”
Marellen shrugged when Garthe raised an eyebrow at him. “Close enough.”
Before she could get angrier, Garthe shifted in preparation for hopping down. “My stats should let me jump out after I help her.”
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
But Marellen held out a hand to stop him. “I think I have a better idea.”
Then, with closed eyes, he held out both his palms. “Wiferal’s Breath.” He murmured, and then, tiny streams of white mana appeared above his palm, growing thicker by the second. They flowed idly above his palm until something changed, and the mana flowed over his fingers to fall into the icy hollow. White strands quickly turned into bigger streams as the mana flowed across Marellen’s palms down into the cave, pooling below Roa until it disappeared. Then her cloak flapped about her as she was slowly lifted into the air. When she reached the opening, she hopped off the invisible wind current and straightened her clothes and hair. She turned to them.
“Thank you.” She said stiffly, dipping her head to Marellen in acknowledgment. Then without a word to Garthe she turned around and stormed off with her head held high, the orange glow of her staff flickering brightly, walking towards Larena. She didn’t look back.
Garthe had an injured expression, a hand placed above his heart. “What did I do?”
Marellen didn’t say anything in the way of comfort or explanation, so Garthe shrugged and started heading towards the direction of their final party member. “No mana-circle?” he said, looking at Marellen curiously.
He shook his head. “Not for this level of spell. You’re getting a mage confused with a wizard. Mages don’t need to form mana circles to cast basic elemental manipulation as a consequence of the runic models in our mana pools. Not that we can’t use them, but only wizards build mana-circles to cast low-ranked spells because of their heart circles. We have much more direct control over our mana, although not as much as elementalists and sorcerers.”
They both sneakily glanced at Roa, who was conversing with Larena. The snow-elf faintly scowled at them when she saw them watching but gestured for them to come over, so the two men changed their path to head over.
“Where did you say you sensed your final connection?” she asked, gesturing to the snowy expanse beside them. Garthe rubbed his chin as he tried to remember.
“I think it was near that tree.” He said, pointing towards an old pine, barely still standing after the force of the icy disaster. Roa nodded and started making her way over there, boots sinking into the snow with every step.
“The lesser ice spirits in the area are revealing to me that they can sense warmth emanating from that direction. It is likely to be where our final member lays.”
“Can you not make it sound like he’s dead?” Garthe complained, rubbing his arms in the cold.
Roa gave him a dirty look, but Larena pushed in front before she could say anything. She tapped a boot on the ground, looking for hollow space below, and when her boot dipped in slightly, she bent down and pushed an arm into the snow. She gestured to Garthe.
“A little help please.”
Garthe likewise got down and sunk his arms into the snow, then they pulled, and a platinum-blonde-haired head emerged, followed by an upper body. They sat Efratel against the tree as Roa got down and formed a small orb of orange between her palms, placing it near him so he could be warmed up by the heat. He was looking remarkably worse for wear than the other four. His grey suit was damp, clinging to him, and he couldn’t stop his teeth from chattering or his body from shivering. Larena glared at the two other men.
“Please be aware that it is crucial you don't leave someone under Rank-3 in the snow for very long unless they have a build with high CON. He clearly does not.” She berated the two, both looking rather guilty.
Larena returned her gaze to Efratel once he had stopped shivering so violently. She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’ve got some pretty big explaining to do.” She stated simply.
Efratel grimaced and shakily began to stand up. “Y-Ye-Yeah.” He stammered, still shivering as he wrapped his arms around himself.
“B-But first, could we g-get somewhere a b-bit w-w-warmer?”
…
A few days later, thanks to the help of the two mages’ fire spells and Larena’s decent hunting abilities, they managed to make it to the Ascendant City the convoy had been heading to. They had searched briefly for survivors back at the avalanche site, but no one was found, and so they found themselves in a small warm inn, enjoying the sensations of civilization once more. Specifically, the sights, sounds and smells of good food.
“Mmmm,” Garthe said, stretching his arms after he had cleaned his plate. He blinked his vibrant green eyes at the other occupants of the table. “Now what?”
“Now,” Larena began, focusing intently on Efratel, “We hear what he has to say.”
With a silent wave of Marellen’s staff, a white barrier of wind mana formed around their group, masking their words from the ears of other people.
Efratel sighed as all eyes at the table turned to him, and he ran a hand through his blonde hair. “Let me just begin by saying that getting squashed by a magical avalanche was not on the agenda.” He stated dryly.
Garthe scoffed. “That much is obvious. Who would willingly try to get killed by an avalanche?” he remarked mockingly. He quickly shut up and shrunk into his seat when Larena glared at him.
Efratel ignored the noisy adventurer, clasping his hands together on the table. “Please understand,” he continued, looking at each of them in turn, “That all of this is either my conjecture or based on very sparse knowledge of what my superiors wanted.”
They all nodded, so he took a breath to collect himself and began the explanation. “As I, or the convoy, was a disposable piece as seen by the avalanche, I believe we were a decoy.”
They all gave him varying reactions to that statement. Marellen looked thoughtful, and in the case of Roa, she carefully listened to what he would say next. He shifted in his chair to get comfortable and continued.
“The Alichanteu are the clan of the Commission that interacts the most with the smaller businesses and vassal nobility of the Faction. They own everything from entire cities to grand palaces, hotels of nobles, to production facilities, and even the stores of businesses. They are the clan which have the easiest time expanding, and so the excuse of trying to gain a foothold in one of the Beast Realm’s frontier regions can be easily explained away.” He paused to make sure they were all following and continued when he could see that they were. “There wasn’t anything of importance that the convoy had been transporting. There was no item, or treasure, to be sent to this Ascendant City.”
“They only needed it to seem like there was.” Larena realised, gazing at the table with her eyebrows furrowed. “I suppose they needed a real Commission member to be here so it would seem realistic.”
Efratel nodded, while Larena looked up. “But why would they even need a decoy? Was there an enemy?”
He hesitated, but when he saw their focused expressions, he sighed and rubbed his neck. “Please, please, please don’t tell anybody what I’m going to say next. I’m only saying this because I owe you my life, and you almost lost yours.”
The others traded curious glances and watched him with an expectant look, but nodded, so he continued. “Alichanteu is actually in a state of internal conflict. The Count collapsed some time ago due to a past necromantic wound re-emerging somehow, and so his two grandsons with succession rights are fighting over the position. The avalanche was a result of this conflict.”
Garthe leaned back with his arms crossed, his eyes glinting menacingly, while Larena scowled. “Really? We all got caught up in some petty little noble game, and it was just bad luck? Just being used as a sacrifice?”
It was Roa who looked up from where she had been frowning at the table, trading glances with Marellen, before shaking her head. “That isn’t it.”
They all turned to look at her, including Efratel, all of them curious about her explanation. She tapped on the gemstone embedded in her staff next to her. “Any personage with elf heritage has heightened senses to spiritual energy, and those with more pure heritage, such as pure-blooded elves, can see the spirit realm that the World Tree touches overlaid over everything within the realm. This phenomenon only exists in the realms with normal mana, such as the Beast Realm and the Mystical Realm. For obvious reasons, the Demon Realm is excluded from this, but I am able to see and communicate with spirits almost anywhere within those other realms.”
She gestured to the inn’s door. “Spirits form contracts with us to absorb the mana of the physical realms, so they can gain a physical form like elementals or even fae. They are therefore very attentive to unique mana, much more than any mortal race could be. I do not believe there were no special items within the convoy. I believe there were several. The convoy wasn’t meant to be attacked.” She finished.
The others looked a bit stunned by that revelation, including Efratel. He frowned at the circular wooden table, a hand on his chin. “This might be a bigger event than I thought.”
Garthe sent a sneaky glance towards the door, a sly grin on his face. “Do you think we should go back and dig these items up?”
He held up his hands in a symbol of surrender as Larena gave him a withering look and Roa a frosty glare. “I was kidding, kidding!”
Marellen was still frowning as he looked at the table, and Roa noticed this. “What happens to be the matter?”
He blinked, shaken out of his deep thought. “Oh, I was just…” he frowned again after a moment as he looked at Efratel with a complicated expression. “…do you recognise the spell that summoned the avalanche?” he asked him, looking troubled.
Efratel froze and covered his mouth with his hand, wide-eyed. After a pause, he slowly moved to rub his eyes. “I… thought I had just been seeing things.”
Marellen slowly nodded and leaned back with a sigh. The other three watched their interaction with curiosity, and Larena cocked an eyebrow. Feeling slightly weary, Marellen decided to explain after his cousin remained silent.
“The… Alichanteu don't have solid blue hair like the other Counties have their hair colours." he began. “That’s not to say they don’t have the element represented by it, but it usually manifests itself in their eye colour and hair tips rather than their full hair colour. When it does manifest like that, the Alichanteu clan member has an extremely high talent in water element manipulation. Without exception. Quite a few times a mage with blue hair in Alichanteu has earned a seat in the Blue Order of All-Aeon Athenaeum.” He said, frowning once more as he considered what that meant. The others drew in a few small gasps of surprise.
“About four centuries ago, one of these blue-haired irregulars was born to the main bloodline of Alichanteu. He’s now the 43rd ranked Seat of the Blue Order, with a dual membership of the Ice Tower as a double class of mage and wizard. His name is Merkenia Pristine Alichanteu, the Archmage of Everlasting Glaciers. And that avalanche spell is the signature move he developed, his Grand spell, albeit weakened for the purposes of masking the avalanche as an accident.”
They all went silent, absorbing this new information. Larena tapped her long nails on the oak table as she glanced at Marellen. “How certain are you that this was him? Couldn’t the spell caster just have been mimicking the avalanche concept, trying to pretend they were this Archmage? Or possibly just thinking that making the attack look like an accident would’ve been good and that they had no intention of alluding to Merkenia’s potential involvement?”
Marellen shook his head, shifting his navy hair that reached his shoulders, as Efratel gave a bitter laugh. “Oh no, that was definitely the Archmage. It may come as a surprise to you all, but my cousin here is actually a rather desired talent.” He said, tapping the man next to him. He shook his head wryly. “A few years ago, the young nobility of the Alichanteu and their vassals gathered together for a series of social events. Marellen was born with a Minor affinity for all six essential elements, meaning he could take whatever path he wanted in the future for his magic.”
He gave them a slightly weary smile. “Merkenia visited Marellen repeatedly each day for a month straight, trying to tempt him into becoming his student. Eventually, he gave up, but due to the number of times the Archmage demonstrated his magic to Marellen in an attempt to impress him, there is nobody within the young nobility of the Faction who knows the Archmage’s mana signature best.”
Marellen nodded. “Without a doubt, that was the Pristine Archmage’s mana.”
Larena leaned back, and they all considered the implications of his involvement.
“So…” Garthe began. “Apart from the fact he almost killed us, why is it bad that this Archmage in particular sabotaged the convoy?”
“The Archmage is part of my side of the succession war. My own force betrayed me.” Efratel stated flatly.
Garthe winced. “Ohhh…. yeah, that’s not good…”
Efratel rolled his eyes and sighed. “The question is: will I be killed if I return alive, or will they not realise what happened?"
There was a moment of silence before Garthe abruptly put his hands on the table and stood up. “Well, that’s our job done. Time to give us our pay so we can get out of here. We will still be paid, won’t we?”
Then there was a loud scuffle as Larena jabbed a mana-enhanced elbow into his side, making him fall off his chair, and sending him curling up into a fetal position on the ground. She turned to Efratel, ignoring the pained groans coming from the green-eyed man.
“I sincerely apologise. This was why I joined this trip, to show him how nobility works. Obviously he still has more to learn.”
Efratel looked at the wheezing man on the ground for a second before chuckling as he turned back to Larena. “I’m sure this has been an interesting experience for him. Yes, you will still get your pay. In fact, I’ll double it.” He said, pulling out a dimensional pouch from the inside of his suit jacket. He counted out the rose crowns and passed them to them all, minus Marellen.
“Why don’t I get any?” The mage wondered aloud.
Efratel raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you want a monthly budget increase? I mean, if you really want to be paid only once…”
“Ah, no, I’m fine,” Marellen replied hastily, waving his hands. Efratel rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat.
“If it helps,” began Roa, who had been thinking over the whole convoy situation, “I don’t think they’ll care if you return alive. It would only be dangerous if you revealed you know who was responsible for the attack, or that it was an attack in the first place.” Then she turned to Marellen. “However, if they find out Marellen was with you…”
Efratel widened his eyes as he understood her implications. “Marellen knows the mana signature of the Archmage. Everyone is aware of how the Archmage tried to tempt him into becoming his student by showing him spells and should be familiar with them. They’ll assume he’s told me who attacked the convoy.”
She nodded solemnly. “Indeed.” She looked between them both, her expression complicated. “I… have heard that if you become the private manager of a mage of the All-Aeon Athenaeum’s Academy, you and the mage will have political immunity for that period. The Archmage will not be able to touch you if you become Marellen’s point of contact while he joins the Academy.” Then she frowned and shook her head sadly. “Although, that would require a sponsor, and I’m not certain who could be willing to accept the repercussions of sponsoring you both after this.”
Efratel sighed and nodded in thanks. “I’ll keep that information in mind. Thank you, Roa.”
She nodded coolly in return and the conversation lapsed into a lull, broken only by the sound of Garthe getting off the floor to get into his seat.
Larena clapped her hands loudly to get everyone’s attention, then gave them all a smile. “While this journey has had plenty of hiccups, this has been one of the few times I’ve truly enjoyed everyone’s company. So, I have a little gift for all of you.”
They looked up at her, blinking curiously. Then she turned to Garthe. “Except for you. It’s useless for you.”
While Garthe sat there in stunned silence by the apparent exclusion, Larena got out three small black circular objects from within her black dimensional pouch. Efratel, Roa and Marellen picked them all up curiously, inspecting the raised icons and symbology on either side. One side held a rather morbid image of a loosely bandaged opened hand being stabbed through with a silver knife, while the other side only had the engraved words ‘Larena M. Barbosas’.
“This,” Larena began, smirking as she pointed to the coin-like token in Efratel’s hand, “Is a token of friendship from the Black Hand. It also functions as a referral letter.”
She reached forward and plucked the round token from Efratel, who was looking at it with interest and turned it around to show them her silver name on one of the sides. “Normally, you need either high status or deep pockets to even gain access to one of the branches of the Black Hand Mercenary Guild. However, as my private token owners, you can skip all that to send me a message through my Guild. I might still ask you for a high wage,” she said, winking at Efratel, “But it will allow me to give you priority when I choose to take on a mission.”
Then she turned to the two mages. “Both of you have amazing talents for magic, much greater than most I’ve seen your age. Marellen knows amazing theorems and understands magic with a much greater depth than many, while you Roa, have no limitations imposed upon your magic by either your heritage or your affinities, and can use them with just as much power as each other. Don’t ignore one of them, as unused talent is one of the greatest mistakes one could make as an Ascendant.”
Both of them blinked at the unexpected praise and advice, while Larena turned to Efratel.
“And I’m not going to give up a chance to make a connection with one of the rich managers of the Commission!” she teased, making Efratel roll his eyes, but smile in amusement. She threw it back to him. “I’m not going to be able to protect you from the mighty forces of an Archmage, obviously, but if things play out well and you survive, then I won’t mind collaborating with you sometime.”
He nodded and pocketed the black token. Larena looked at Garthe, who was seeming much less disappointed about not earning a gift after he saw what it was.
“I suppose we better get going. My break is almost over, so Garthe and I should probably take this chance to use the Obelisk.”
They all nodded and got up from the table and headed outside the inn. After a few goodbyes and well wishes, Garthe, Larena and Roa headed to the Obelisk at the centre of the city, leaving Efratel and Marellen standing outside, snow gently falling on them.
Efratel turned to Marellen with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You know... I think I might have to send you to the Academy after all.”
The navy-haired mage groaned while Efratel chuckled. Then the manager rubbed his chin.
“Wasn’t the Archmage connected to another outside force besides Alichanteu? Do you remember anything, Marellen?”
Marellen hummed and looked down in thought, tapping a foot on the ground. Eventually, he looked back up at Efratel.
“I think he was married to a distant relative of one of the Eternal Duchies.”
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Four people were standing outside a pair of dark double oak doors. Two of them had scarlet hair and wore ruby-red armour, guarding the doors, but the other two were dressed differently, one a female with long straight black hair, and the other a tall male with silvery hair wearing half-moon glasses.
Today, Lucille was wearing different clothes than her normal high-necked tops and long black coats. She had ditched the coat for a sleeveless brown leather vest, and she wore a long-sleeved dark-grey shirt and black tie. Her shirt pocket held the violet pocket watch. She turned to Vincent as she pulled on black gloves, the man himself wearing his normal white suit, if with a diamond brooch pinned to his jacket.
“That should be it. Anything else I might need to do?” she asked, shifting her mask to fit in place better. Vincent shook his head, holding a folder in his arms.
“Hmm.” Mused Lucy, who turned back to the doors. “Well then, I suppose it begins.”
Then after gesturing to the two ruby-armoured guards, she put her hands behind her back and stepped forward through the open doors into the dark room within. When she saw who was inside, she fixed a calm smile on her face and gave a bow.
“Good afternoon Gentleman. As introductions are in order, I will begin first. My name is Lucille Adrienne Goldcroft.” She announced.