The walk to the bio-sculpture room was filled with the kind of silence proper to people who have things to get over with. I followed the German man whose name I couldn’t quite recall (I believed it started with a T), through the sculpture gallery. The hallways he led me down twisted and turned, mirroring the ones I had been to earlier. Except these ones mostly had baren walls, with the occasional small ornament or fresco, as most of the actual art was displayed in larger rooms.
When we passed the corridor filled with hundreds of tiny glass birds suspended to the ceiling and entered a large oval room not dissimilar to the one I had been to in the painting gallery, I stopped in my tracks to take in what I was seeing.
This room too was filled with ivy, which instead of overflowing into the surrounding corridors as it had in the entry hallway spread away from it, leaving exposed patches of bare wooden flooring below it. The ground and the ceiling were both covered in blooming tulips, of regular size this time, that gently moved left to right under the sound of some string instrument. It was safe to assume that the music was coming from the giant amalgam of wood and vines placed at the centre of the room, that vaguely looked like a heart, and had dozens of strings running from it, attaching it to the floor and ceiling. There were small creatures moving up at down the strings, likely creating the gentle sounds that filled the room, but I could not make out the details from where I was, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to get much closer. I now understood what a bio-sculpture was, and I tried my best to mask my expression of confusion and slight disgust.
While I was busy looking around and blocking the passageway, the old man who r had found Madame Pendu and was chatting with her in the corner of the room. Their voices were not loud enough for me to hear but based on the hostesses’ outraged expression, and the neutral expression of the man, I assumed it wasn’t going too bad.
I took a few steps in their direction, with the understanding that even though the conversation would likely be unpleasant, I needed to take responsibility for my actions. But I came to a stop once again when I hit my foot against something.
There weren’t exactly paths amongst the ivy, just like in the main hall, and since other guests were just strolling about, I assumed it was allowed to do so. When I looked down at my feet, I saw something smooth and cream-coloured, half-buried in the ivy. It looked a surprising bit like the top of a skull. A shiver ran down my spine, and I hastily carried on walking.
“Laura!” Gerard’s voice called out.
I turned my head in his direction, not without surprise. I hadn’t seen him coming.
“I was just admiring the ‘heart harp’,” he explained as if answering the question I never asked. “I was starting to wonder where you’d vanished to.”
“The painting gallery.” The German man replied in my stead, as he approached us.
I glanced back in the direction he’d come from and saw Madame Pendu walk to the centre of the room with the expression of a woman who’d had enough of other people’s shit for one day. I did feel a bit bad for her, and I began to suspect that I’d be placed on some sort of backlist from now on.
“Yes, I was just looking around…” I distractedly added.
To that, the German man gave me a mischievous smile.
“Mr Muller,” Gerard intervened, “I frankly wasn’t expecting to see you here today.” His tone was ever so slightly lined with nervousness.
“Oh, don’t be a stranger.” Mr Muller replied before giving Gerard a friendly tap on the back. “I couldn’t pass an opportunity to outbid you on one of Amelia’s latest.”
“You don’t even like her work,” Gerard smirked, his voice still noticeably nervous, “You called her too, what was it again, ‘historically blind’ and ‘having the artistic skill of a newborn worm’.”
The German leaned onto his cane with both his hands, and remained silent, although his expression did show that he did acknowledge himself guilty of that matter, and was not in the slightest embarrassed about it.
“As pleasant as it is, recalling the past with you like this Gerard,” Mr Muller spoke again, “I’m afraid me and mademoiselle Dubois must be on our way. May I count on you to behave yourself for the remaining of the evening?”
Gerard’s cheeks turned pink, and he looked away. It seemed he was at a loss for words, which wasn’t something I ever imagined he’d be. He looked up at me as if asking for confirmation.
“If you don’t mind.” I added. “I can call my sister if you want, but I’m not sure she’ll reply-”
“Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m sure the choice between little old me and someone like Mr Muller is an easy one to make.” Gerard retorted.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The German man and I exchanged a look.
“Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not that.” I said.
The German man shook his head with a half-smile, agreeing with my statement.
I did feel bad for ditching Gerard, but the promise of information was more appealing.
“I wish the two of you a pleasant evening.” Gerard quickly said, before spinning round and hastily walking away.
“He will be alright, do not fret yourself. I am sure he brought several bodyguards with him. And as long as he does actually behave himself, there will be no issues.” Mr Muller spoke once Gerard vanished behind the heard sculpture. “Shall we?” he added.
“Yes let’s.”
I didn’t know what Gerard had done, but after the events in the painting gallery, I hoped he’d be alright. Despite having high-level skills, he didn’t look much like a fighter. Although, he also didn’t give the impression of someone who often got attacked by monsters in unexpected situations.
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The walk out of the art expo was filled with the same semi-tense silence as before. The German man walked hastily, perhaps even too much so, as he’d visibly struggle to move his right leg every so often. I, on the other hand, was somewhat deep in thought about what I needed to discuss with him. There was the question of Laura’s family, and perhaps even skills, class, and magic items (as I had the nagging suspicion that my sword fell into that category). But it was also an opportunity for me to fill in all those gaps in my knowledge about this world.
I still needed to confirm it, but this man seemed unaligned with my current family or any of the book characters (as far as I could recall at least). I wasn’t sure if he had any direct links to me, as us meeting twice under such vastly different circumstances could not have been just a coincidence. But then again, so many strange things happened to me on an almost daily basis that I would not have been surprised if it were. Thing is, no one but me was ever surprised by monsters and whatever else, so perhaps these kinds of events were just intrinsic to this world.
Before I knew it, we had reached the central room, the one filled with ivy and large tulips. As we exited it, one of Gerard’s bodyguards who was waiting outside gave me a smile and a nod. I reciprocated the gesture, before following Mr Muller up the stairs.
“I hope you don’t mind us taking the scenic route.” The German man spoke as we passed the mid-point of the stairway.
“No, I don’t.” I simply replied, still partially lost in thought.
“Good, because we might be stranded here a while.” He continued, not without amusement in his tone, as he nodded to the top of the stairway.
There, a steward was somewhat clumsily trying to get the rune circle drawn on the ceiling to activate and allow access to the gallery above. They finally managed to do so, just as we approached.
“Not a second too early, son.” Mr Muller said as he passed by them.
“Ah, my, umm, apologies sir.” The steward replied. “I’m fairly new here, that’s why.”
The German man acknowledged their words with a simple nod, before carrying on towards the door. As I passed them, they tipped their hat and bowed slightly, covering their face. I would have completely ignored them if not for the large roll of canvas fabric that had been put against the wall behind them.
They must have noticed my gaze, as they spoke up:
“I am just transporting some equipment to the archives. Look here, I am a very legit and transparent employee of the ‘Palais des Eaux’.”
Before I had had the time to reply, or even ignore them, a blue screen popped up before my eyes.
Aldous Russel
He/Him
39
D
Rogue
Thief
Reading [Pa]
Microsoft Office Suite [Ac]
Lockpicking [Ac]
Dark Vision [Ac]
Data Analysis [Ac]
Traitor’s Lament [Ac]
Small Blades [Ac]
Computer Security [Ac]
luck
30/100
MP
20/100
Strength
10
Dexterity
15 = 12+ 4(skill bonus) - 1 (encumbered)
Constitution
8
Intelligence
15 = 13 + 2(skill bonus)
Wisdom
16 = 13 +3(Ring of Hesperus)
Charisma
8
“Then if you’ll excuse me.” Aldous hastily said before picking up the rolled-up canvas, which I had no doubt was some stolen painting and headed into the gallery on the left-hand side of the entrance.
“I think that man has stolen a painting,” I informed Mr Muller when I caught up to him.
“Because of his class?” He replied as he started walking again.
“And the rolled-up canvas he carried about,” I added. “Did you see his ESW?” I then asked as I thought he’d been too far to see it.
The German man smiled, not quite at me, but definitely in response to my comment. I could have sworn I saw that same spark in his eye that I refused to categorise as malicious. He remained silent until we passed the glass doors of the expo centre.
“If the security down there allows for these types of incidents, then I am not one to interfere. I also think Madame Pendu could use a reminder such as this that she should divert from her maniac obsession with the insides of monsters and making them look as objects they are not, and instead focus on real art.” He said, before adding, “But let us not concern ourselves with that. We have much to discuss, and I would like to know your opinion on dinner.”
“My opinion thereof is positive enough.” I replied, mimicking his fancy way of talking, as I followed him to the teleportation circle I had arrived through.
[https://i.imgur.com/GfBl0kA.png]