Colla and Linn
The sound of footsteps echoed across the marble floor, reverberating down the corridor where Colla and Linn walked.
"How's the professor? I haven't seen him since the day of the fire." asked Linn, as they passed by the large windows, through which the soft, orange glow of the morning sunlight filtered in.
"Not so well, I’d say... He’s been holed up in the library with Diemut, endlessly searching for information on some seal..." Colla replied, following her and stretching his arms out as they walked.
“What seal?” Linn pressed, turning to face the young man.
“I have no idea… but something’s definitely off with him ever since that fight.” Colla replied, rubbing his forehead.
“Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You almost died back then yourself.” Linn said, turning back toward the corridor.
“Thanks to you I'm alive.... and at least today, we’ll finally find out who was behind it all, thanks for bringing me along.” Colla added, flashing her a faint smile.
“No problem. I had to fill Artair’s spot somehow anyways… and honestly, you deserve to know what’s going on.” Linn said, running her fingers through her fiery red hair.
“Thanks…” Colla replied, glancing out the window at the wide plaza in the city center, bustling with people enjoying the festivities. “…Ugh, why does all this have to happen now, of all times?”
Linn stepped closer, following his gaze to the lively square. “You wanted to join the fun too? Can’t blame you... I love the Feast of Blossoms.”
“Hmm… Let’s just get this over with quickly, alright?” Colla said, turning away and continuing down the corridor.
“Alright!” Linn replied, falling in step behind him as they made their way toward the council chamber.
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After several minutes of walking through the winding corridors, the duo came to a stop before a massive set of wooden doors adorned with intricate silver vines.
“This is it. Brace yourself… The council members aren’t exactly known for getting along with those of… lower rank.” Linn whispered, her cautious expression betraying a hint of unease as she reached for the door. "I'll be standing next to master Frye, you'll wait until Director calls for you."
Colla gave a quick nod, his lips pressed into a thin line, before following her into the chamber.
The chamber they entered was vast, its marble walls curving upward to form a majestic dome. At its center, a massive window was set into the apex, allowing sunlight to cascade directly onto a grand stone table fused seamlessly with the floor at the heart of the room.
Around the table stood nine chairs, each adorned with a unique crest carved into its front, symbolizing the role and identity of its occupant.
The chairs were already mostly occupied by the council members, their gazes fixed and expectant as they awaited the arrival of the remaining visitors.
“Linn, you’re finally here.” said one of the council members, his voice carrying a melodic quality that instantly drew attention.
The speaker was a man with hair tinged in a soft rouge hue, matching the subtle color of his closed eyelids. Despite his perpetually shut eyes, a pair of glasses rested delicately on his nose, an unusual but striking detail.
His expression was gentle, almost serene, a demeanor that seemed at odds with the formidable role he held within the council. As he spoke, a faint but unmistakable accent hinted at origins far beyond the borders of this land, adding an air of mystery to his already distinctive presence.
“Master Frye…” Linn nodded respectfully toward the man as she quickly took a stand beside him.
“Oh, please, I’ve told you many times already—just Alaric will do.” The man replied, waving a hand lazily. On the inner side of his wrist, a pale pink mark shaped like a dragonfly shimmered faintly in the light.
Before Linn could respond, another council member seated across from Alaric began tapping their fingers on the stone table, drawing Colla’s attention. As he shifted his gaze, he found himself looking at a woman with striking green hair.
Her hair was styled with two slender braids draped from the front, framing her delicate elven ears, while the rest of her locks flowed freely down her back in a graceful cascade. Her vibrant green eyes seemed to gleam with a quiet intensity, contrasting sharply with the bold red eyeliner that encircled them. A single black rose was pinned elegantly into her hair, adding a touch of dark beauty to her appearance.
“You’re here to fill Artair’s place, aren’t you?” she asked, her gaze piercing as she studied Colla. Her voice was an intriguing blend of disinterest, drowsiness, and a faint, almost sugary sweetness that made her tone oddly captivating.
“Y-yes, ma’am…” Colla replied, his words stumbling slightly as he spoke.
The woman gestured to a spot on the floor beside her, silently directing him to stand there. Colla quickly obeyed, climbing the three small steps that led to her position and taking his place at her side.
“Well then… is this everyone?” asked the woman seated beside Alaric, her voice calm but edged with authority.
Colla couldn’t help but notice the striking woman as she spoke. Her dark skin gleamed softly in the sunlight filtering through the room, blending seamlessly with her jet-black, intricately braided hair. What caught his eye most, however, was the scar that stretched across the upper right side of her face, trailing over her closed eye and her mechanical left arm.
Far from diminishing her presence, the scar seemed to enhance her beauty, accentuating the quiet strength that radiated from her. Her faint freckles softened her stern appearance, while her faded-red shirt, layered under a practical black overcoat, gave her a distinct and memorable style that only added to her aura of competence and poise.
"Where’s Heath?" Alaric asked, tilting his head slightly toward the woman beside him.
"He’s in the hospital… Unfortunately, the fire reached him too... same with Arvid and Mairenn." she replied, leaning back against her chair with a hint of weariness.
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"Oh… uh… sorry." Alaric muttered, looking away awkwardly and clenching his jaw as if chastising himself for bringing it up.
"Alright, can we get started?" boomed a commanding voice from the head of the table.
The speaker was a man with long, pale orange hair that were tied into a small ponytail at the back, while the front was slicked back, leaving a small fringe parted in the middle. His sharp, brown eyes bore an intense gaze, further accentuated by black bags under them and a series of small scars etched across his face—the most prominent running between his brow and his left eye.
Dangling from his ears were red earrings crafted from tiny, polished crystals, glinting faintly as he shifted his posture. His presence exuded authority, and the room seemed to grow quieter the moment he spoke.
At his words, the rest of those seated around the table nodded in unison, their attention shifting to him.
"Very well, let’s begin with the most pressing matter..." The man stood, exhaling deeply before continuing. "...I have received news that the goddess Rosmerta has been killed."
Colla froze. He hadn’t expected such a revelation, but now Artair’s behavior made much more sense to him.
"What....?" Alaric murmured, clenching his fists.
The reaction from the others wasn’t much different. The room filled with a chorus of gasps and murmurs as the gravity of the announcement sank in.
The silence was broken only when the man spoke again.
"Valisha... explain to them." he ordered, glancing toward the figure seated to the left of the green-haired elf.
Valisha, the masked figure, rose from their seat. Their featureless white mask gleamed under the rays of sunlight streaming through the dome, and their medium-length white hair only deepened the air of mystery that surrounded them.
"On the day of the attack, we completely lost contact with Rosmerta," they began, their modulated voice reverberating through the chamber, as though emanating from every corner of the room. It was almost angelic in tone—calm, yet unsettlingly omnipresent. "And several weeks prior, we also lost contact with another god who had been residing in the same region. While we cannot yet confirm if the two events are connected, we are certain of one thing—Rosmerta was murdered."
Valisha’s words hung heavy in the air, their weight pressing down on everyone present as they struggled to process the grim revelation.
The elf seated beside Colla cast a sidelong glance at him, noting his face—a mixture of fear and confusion etched into his features.
"Hmm, there’s nothing we can do about it, is there?" she remarked, her tone detached as she turned her gaze back to the man standing across the table. "So let’s not drag this out. Move on to something else." she added, her voice carrying a melancholic apathy.
"Lucetta…?!" Alaric interjected, his tone tinged with exasperation at her dismissive attitude.
"What? She’s dead, isn’t she? What’s the point of dwelling on it?" Lucetta replied with an annoyed tone, nonchalantly resting her head on the table, her green hair spilling across her arms as though to emphasize her indifference.
"....General?" The dark skinned woman turned towards the standing man, also bewildered by Lucetta's response.
"Ugh... Salvitto's right." the general replied with a heavy sigh. "No point in lingering on her death any longer... We'll talk about it later, and now we have some more pressing matters to address." He stood up from his seat and walked over to one of the walls, where a large map of the country was pinned. His hand rested on the edge of the map, his gaze fixed on the intricate details of the land's borders and cities, as if the weight of the country itself rested upon his shoulders.
His tone was firm, carrying the weight of his experience in battles far beyond the council chamber. The general's authority was clear, but beneath it, there was a sense of urgency, a recognition that the time for idle conversation had passed.
"You may speak." Valisha said, settling back into their seat, their attention shifting fully to the general.
"Very well." the general nodded in acknowledgment, his voice steady and commanding. "From the information we’ve received from Artair..." He gestured toward Colla and Lucetta, signaling them to pay attention. "On the day of the attack on Austeria, in addition to the unprecedented number of wyverns and other dragonoids, there were also two other individuals present..."
Suddenly, a parchment slid down from the ceiling, replacing the map with an image of a man—one Colla had already encountered. "Ewald Bosques, and another unknown Bounty Hunter..." The image flickered for a moment, revealing the face of the man in question.
"That Bosques?" asked the dark-skinned woman, her voice sharp, her hands pressing against the table.
"Yes." Another man, sitting between the general and Valisha confirmed, his voice steady. "I’ve made contact with the government of Avarel, and it turns out that a member of the Bosques family fled the country with his legions, slaughtering his brother's forces in the process." He pushed his long brown hair back, his expression darkening as the weight of the betrayal settled in. "It’s not just a political defection—it’s a massacre, and it only complicates matters for all of us."
"So... we’re dealing with a war criminal and an unknown bounty hunter... both of whom might be capable of killing a goddess." Alaric summarized, massaging his face as he tried to process the gravity of the situation.
"In short... we’re screwed." Linn muttered under her breath, still standing beside the man.
Alaric shot her a sharp glare, and at once, Linn stood at attention, her posture stiffening.
"Sorry..." she said quickly, her voice softening as she realized her mistake.
"Do we know anything about the other one?" asked another woman seated to Alaric's left, flipping her sleek black ponytail over her shoulder.
Colla’s attention was immediately drawn to her striking features—her pair of jet-black horns curving outward from the sides of her head and the mesmerizing, swirling patterns in her pale irises.
“Lady Renae…” Colla stammered, recalling her name. She was the representative chosen by the people to serve on the council—a voice of the masses amidst gods and generals.
“We know nothing about her.” the general interjected, his voice grave as he returned to his seat. “Except that she is the one who killed Rosmerta... and that she stole her Core.”
The weight of his words hung heavily in the room, and even Renae’s ever-steady gaze faltered for a fraction of a second. She crossed her arms, her sharp horns catching the light as she leaned forward.
“That’s all we have? No name, no motives?” she pressed, her swirling irises narrowing slightly as she spoke.
“Nothing concrete… Whoever she is, she clearly has experience in this kind of work. There were no traces left behind—apart from the fire, of course.” the general replied, sinking back into his seat with a weary sigh.
“And the Core?” Alaric pressed, his melodic voice carrying a note of urgency. “No one who isn’t at least a demi-god can do anything with it… so why take it?”
“We don’t know that either.” the general admitted, his frustration evident as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table and his hands on his forehead. “The truth is, we don’t know anything about this situation at all…”
“If she can’t use it herself…” Alaric began, his brows knitting together in thought.
“…Then she must be working for someone who can.” the woman to his right interjected, tapping her mechanical fingers rhythmically against the table. The metallic sound echoed faintly in the tense silence.
“So, let me get this straight…” Lucetta muttered, lifting her head back off the table and straightening her posture. “We’ve got a rogue member of the Bosques family, his legion of soldiers, and a ridiculously skilled bounty hunter… all working under someone even more powerful?” She paused, letting the weight of her words sink in. “This is starting to feel like a case of déjà vu.”
Her tone was casual, but the sharp glint in her green eyes betrayed a growing unease. Lucetta’s comment drew a few nods and murmurs of agreement from the council members.
Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the wooden doors of the chamber.
“General Rhoderick!” a male voice shouted from the other side, continuing to pound on the door.
“Luka? Come in.” General called out, rising from his seat.
The door creaked open, and a young man, roughly Colla’s age, stepped inside. His silver hair was slicked back, revealing a pair of white, feline ears twitching atop his head.
“General… she has escaped…” Luka announced, his hands braced against his knees as he gasped for air.
At his words, the room fell into a heavy silence. Everyone save for Valisha, Linn, and Colla tensed in unison. Even Lucetta, who had remained composed until now, seemed visibly shaken.
“…You… you can’t mean—” Rhoderick began, his hands curling into fists as his voice trembled.
“…” Luka gave a single, grim nod.
The reaction was immediate. Every member of the council shot to their feet, exchanging looks filled with dread and urgency.
For the first time in his life, Colla felt the raw weight of fear hanging in the air—a fear that even the mightiest among them couldn’t conceal.