Chapter 10

In the dimly lit room of the Esoteric Archives, 621 found himself seated across from the mysterious figure with the single red dash adorning his white mask. The room exuded an air of secrecy, its walls adorned with ancient symbols and faded lines that whispered mystical knowledge.

621 tilted his head left and right, his keen eyes scrutinizing the surroundings. The walls seemed to absorb the dim light, and the air hung heavy with the scent of aged parchment. The only source of illumination was a flickering candle on a small wooden table between them, casting shadows that seemed to cloak the room in a veil. The room itself felt like an echo chamber.

The figure before him, shrouded in mystery and hidden behind the iconic white mask, noticed 621's perceptive gaze. With a gesture, he indicated the room's peculiar features.

"This chamber is soundproof, rest assured. Our conversations will remain confined within these walls, shielded from prying ears and curious whispers."

His voice, muffled by the design of his mask, resonated with a distinctive quality. It carried a weight, a gravitas that seemed to rebound through the room, punctuating each word with a deliberate and slow cadence. The tone itself held a strange allure; a hint of authority veiled in secrecy. It was a voice that demanded attention.

And as if on cue, a peculiar silence lingered in the soundproofed room after the man’s reassurance casting an awkward pause as 621, unmoving, continued to observe him without a word.

"Not much of a talker, are you?" he remarked, his voice carrying an amused undertone seemingly accustomed to such reticence.

When 621 remained silent, the masked man nodded as if acknowledging an expected response. "That's fine."

“You can call me Santino," he revealed.

"Artem," 621 responded, breaking his silence with a fabricated code name. His voice, altered by a mysterious potion reverberated through the room in a deep, rough tone masking his rather immature voice.

Santino's response to the name "Artem" was met with an enigmatic smile as he leaned back comfortably in his seat.

"Artem, huh? Interesting…" he commented, a hint of amusement colouring his words.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of you before.”

621, ever vigilant, noticed the subtle shift in Santino's tone. When Santino mentioned not having heard of him before, a silent alarm resonated within 621's calculated mind. Despite the suspicion, Santino appeared to disarm the tension with a light-hearted laugh.

"You must be new around here," he remarked, his laughter carrying a carefree vibe that contrasted with the clandestine nature of their surroundings.

Santino extended an amiable wish for their camaraderie. "Well then, Artem, let's get along. The council may be shrouded in shadows, but that doesn't mean we can't enjoy a good laugh now and then."

“Don’t you agree?” he added, his demeanor revealing glimpses of a seemingly carefree personality.

“…”

“Right…yes, it was a rhetorical question anyways.” Santino muttered under his breath having expected the silence.

Nonetheless, Santino's eyes glimmered with a spark of curiosity as he leaned forward, a mysterious air enveloping the room.

"Now, Artem, what is it that you wish to hear?" he inquired.

The air seemed to thicken, Santino's demeanor hinted at the vast reservoir of information at their disposal, leaving the question hanging in the air, waiting to be answered.

Artem, clad in his stoic demeanor, finally broke the silence, uttering the name "Vulture" with measured precision. Santino's eyes, initially calm, flickered with a sudden spark of intrigue.

"Vulture huh? How peculiar," Santino mused, his voice textured with a layer of mystery.

"That's a name I'm familiar with."

Artem observed a glint in Santino's eyes, an unspoken recognition that hinted at a deeper understanding of the name. The mysterious figure leaned in closer, his curiosity palpable.

"You're not the first to inquire about him," Santino confessed, a conspiratorial tone colouring his words.

"But I won't pry into why you seek him out. That's none of my business after all" he teased.

There was a subtle shift in Santino's demeanor, a heightened curiosity that underscored the forthcoming question. "So, Artem, what kind of information are you looking to extract from this elusive Vulture?"

Santino's masked face betrayed a hint of amusement as Artem responded, "I seek only the last known location of Vulture."

With a crafty smile hidden behind his own mask, Santino acknowledged the simplicity of Artem's request.

“That is an easy request, but the question is-”,

Santino continued, "What can you offer in return?" he inquired, the gleam in his eyes became more pronounced unseen but undoubtedly present.

Artem, seemingly prepared for this negotiation, calmly stated, "I possess information about someone of interest to the council."

Santino's curiosity piqued, his interest mirrored by the slight shift in his posture. "And who might that be?" he asked, a tone of intrigue colouring his voice.

In response, Artem dropped a bombshell. "Information about the Paragon named Hubert," he revealed.

Santino's eyes widened beneath his mask, betraying his surprise. "Hubert?" he exclaimed. "That's been a hot topic lately. The council is keenly interested, but the reasons remain elusive.”

“What do you know?" he pressed further. The air crackled with the anticipation of revelations.

Artem, with an air of irony, disclosed, "I might know of the Paragon's location."

Santino, finding amusement in the twist of fate, burst into laughter. "Location for location, huh?" he chuckled. The echo of his laughter filled the room before he added, "Funny exchange, I must say."

As the laughter subsided, Santino shared a piece of information. "The Paragon is indeed missing," he revealed, peering at Artem with curiosity dancing in his eyes.

Internally, Artem couldn't help but sneer at the revelation. ‘What a fool’, he mused, a silent comment directed at the absent Paragon.

"Tell me more," Santino urged, eager for the secrets Artem might unravel.

In response to his inquiry, Artem stated plainly, "I need a map."

Santino, seemingly understanding Artem's intentions, held out his arm to the side before conjuring a detailed map seemingly from thin air.

With swift and precise movements, he placed it on the table, inviting Artem to scrutinize the intricate details. The atmosphere in the room brimmed with a subtle tension, as if the exchange of information held greater significance than revealed.

Artem's eyes widened in surprise as he scrutinized the map. The intricate details and precision surpassed any map he had encountered before. This surprise did not escape Santino's notice, and a chuckle escaped his masked lips.

"This is just a small gift for our newcomer," Santino said, his eyes gleaming mysteriously. He hinted that Artem could keep the map for himself, but there was an enigmatic quality in his gaze that left Artem suspicious. Nevertheless, he accepted the offering, deciding to focus on the information he had for offer.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Pointing at a specific location on the map, somewhere southeast of Salem, Artem remarked, "Hubert might be in this location." The location itself was in a remote area of the Nassau county; quite a distance from Salem but not too far.

Santino burst into laughter once again, but this time, there was a dark undercurrent in his tone. "Very interesting," he said, implying that the location held more secrets than mere emptiness.

Artem, maintaining his composed exterior, inwardly commented, ‘So, he knows’. Indeed, there was something concealed within the location he had just pointed out. The air in the room became charged with unspoken implications and a sense of impending revelations.

Santino chuckled mysteriously as he considered Artem's revelation. "Why would he be there?" he pondered aloud.

Finally, he turned to Artem with a nod, “Alright, I accept your offer weaver.”

With a swift gesture, Santino conjured a booklet seemingly out of thin air. Offering it to Artem as he mentioned,

"This booklet contains the information you seek about Vulture."

Artem took the booklet, his gaze quickly scanning its contents. Satisfied, he stored both the booklet and the detailed map into his dimensional bag.

Rising from his seat, he moved towards the door, ready to depart. However, just before he could push it open, Santino's voice reached him once more.

"The paragon's manor seems to be in an uproar for an entirely separate matter. Do you happen to know anything about that?" Santino inquired.

Artem shook his head, signaling that he had no knowledge of the disturbance, and proceeded to open the door. Before leaving, he heard Santino murmur,

"Is that so... What a shame."

….

621, now in his natural element, moved with unparalleled agility through the dense thicket of the forest. His every step was calculated, each jump and landing executed with the precision of a well-trained assassin. Swiftly, he navigated the terrain, jumping from tree to tree, leaping across rocks, and weaving through thickets of bushes.

His path, intentionally erratic, left tracks that seemed to lead in circles, confounding anyone attempting to follow. 621's objective was clear – to lose anyone who might be tracking him after his interaction with Santino in the Umbral council hub. Though the atmosphere around him was serene, the tension emanating from him was palpable.

His instincts, honed by the Order of Shadows, whispered suspicions about Santino's true motives, it warned him that there was more to Santino than he was letting on. The enigmatic figure's laughter and the gleam in his eyes fueled 621's cautious demeanor. He couldn't dismiss the possibility that Santino might have dispatched someone to tail him, and he wasn't about to take any chances.

"Trust your instincts," Artem whispered to himself, a reminder of the fundamental principle that guided his every move. The decision to depart hastily, leaving the council's hub behind, now seemed like the only reasonable course of action. The unknown territory, surrounded by masked individuals with unknown motives, was a breeding ground for potential threats.

Truthfully, a part of him wanted to remain in the hub to further observe the inner workings of the council but inevitably his logic prevailed, urging him to leave immediately, and so he chose the path of least risk.

However, the mention of an uproar in the paragon's manor lingered in the recesses of his consciousness, he made assumptions of what may have occurred following Trevor’s actions but 621 wasn’t entirely privy to the full details as he spent the last few days trying to find the village hinted by Alicia.

‘I wonder if they’ll ever find out what truly happened to her’ he thought meticulously.

Unbidden, his thoughts then veered toward the scheduled visit of the Great physician, he was curious to see what his reaction was in diagnosing a dead Alicia. The image played out in his head as a bright smile formed on his face.

As 621 continued his elusive journey through the forest, he constantly scanned his surroundings, ears attuned to the slightest disturbance. He moved like a shadow, a master of stealth, leaving only traces meant to mislead any pursuers. The forest became his ally, masking his presence and intentions.

….

[3 Days Later]

In the twilight hours, 621 found himself at the edge of a particular hilly terrain somewhere in the Nassau region, drawn by the subtle whispers of secrecy emanating from the landscape. The fading sunlight bathed the terrain in warm hues, unveiling an undiscovered mine hidden within the folds of the hills.

As he cautiously approached, wooden forts soon materialized in the distance, standing guard like ancient sentinels. Some sections, recently fortified with stone, hinted at a purpose beyond mere mining. Two watch towers reached for the darkening sky, their silhouettes guarded by armored sentinels, scanning the surroundings with an air of suspicion.

From his concealed vantage point, 621 observed the rhythmic pacing of guards patrolling the perimeter below, their vigilant footsteps echoing in the quietude of the hills. The occasional creaking of gates and hushed conversations added to the mystique that enveloped the hidden complex.

The mine entrances, cleverly disguised as natural rock formations, spoke of secrets waiting to be uncovered. The strategic placement of forts and towers created an illusion, a façade that hinted at the concealed activities within. The remote location, seemingly chosen to evade curious gazes, betrayed an intentional effort to shroud the operations in mystery.

As daylight waned, the mine transformed into a silhouette against the darkened landscape. This was the exact location depicted in the booklet of Vulture’s last known whereabouts. 621 felt that he was finally close to completing the mission given to him by the Order.

Despite the cryptic details provided in the booklet by Santino, Nassau's vast landscape proved to be a labyrinth of hills, valleys, and concealed passages. The journey to uncover the elusive mine turned into a test of both patience and persistence for 621.

The terrain played tricks on him, with false leads and deceptive landmarks leading him astray. The very nature of the mine's concealment meant that it resisted easy discovery. The booklet, though informative, presented challenges as it hinted at cryptic clues rather than providing explicit directions.

At times, 621 found himself retracing his steps, recalibrating his understanding of the landscape as he deciphered the subtle nuances of the hills. The mine, shrouded in secrecy, played hide-and-seek, seemingly merging with the natural features of the region to defy easy detection.

It was only after meticulous observation, countless retracing, and a keen eye for detail that 621 finally unraveled the mine's elusive location. The extensive effort to navigate Nassau's hidden corners underscored the depth of an individual’s commitment to maintaining the secrecy of their operations.

As 621 silently observed the fortified mine from a concealed vantage point, his analytical mind strategized the potential challenges that lay ahead. The intricacies of the base, veiled by distance, demanded a closer inspection. However, the risk of compromising his position prevented him from venturing too close, prompting him to prioritize caution over curiosity.

He did not want to alert anyone of his infiltration especially if it was Vulture, he hated the thought of him escaping. 621 felt like he had already spent too much time and effort in tracking his prey down and he surely did not want to spoil his efforts due to rookie mistakes.

Amidst this contemplation, the sound of hollow rhythmic thuds echoed through the still air, creating a dissonant harmony with the surrounding silence. 621's heightened senses detected the sound gradually drawing nearer, each thud resonating with purpose. An instinct, honed by years of training, whispered a suspicion in his mind.

‘Could it be?’ 621 pondered internally, recognizing the irregularity of the approaching sound. The sounds compelled him to investigate, prompting a swift decision to leave his vantage point. Like a shadow dissolving into the dusk, he seamlessly melted away from his concealed perch, traversing the terrain with calculated steps.

Moving with a predatory grace, 621 navigated the landscape, his movements an intricate dance with the shadows. The rhythmic thuds acted as his guide, leading him closer to the source. His agile form weaved through the natural cover, blending seamlessly with the environment.

In the distance, 621's sharp eyes discerned a rising cloud of dust, accompanied by the rhythmic resonance of galloping hooves. As the entourage rapidly approached, he concealed himself within the shadows, an undetected observer of the unfolding scene.

The approaching riders, a dozen or more in number, hinted at urgency in their swift journey. The rhythmic beat of hooves intensified, creating an audible drumroll in the quiet landscape. Positioned strategically, 621 attentively watched the approaching band of riders.

As they drew nearer, the details of the entourage became clearer. Three horse-drawn carriages traversed the terrain, flanked by a total of 20 riders clad in light armor, their steeds synchronized in a brisk pace. The carriages maintained a consistent distance from one another, with distinct variations in the number of accompanying riders.

The lead carriage, shrouded in secrecy with thick cloths concealing its cargo, boasted an escort of at least 8 riders. The middle carriage, evidently holding higher significance, was guarded by a more substantial force of at least 10 riders. In contrast, the last carriage in the procession, less concealed and seemingly of lesser importance, was followed by only 2 riders.

Closer inspection revealed a notable distinction among the carriages. The first two were veiled, their contents hidden from prying eyes, while the last exposed eight wooden boxes and it would seem that they were heading in the direction of the mine. Recognizing this pattern, 621's analytical mind formulated an idea, a plan taking shape within the confines of his strategic intellect.

As the entourage drew nearer, 621 swiftly surveyed the surroundings, calculating the optimal moment to put his plan into motion. He eyed the last carriage, trailing behind the others, with a discerning gaze.

Timing was crucial. As the caravan approached, 621, akin to a shadow in motion, silently glided from his concealed vantage point to the side of the road. With precise agility, he approached the last carriage, staying within the cover of trees and shrubbery.

As the carriage passed by him, 621 expertly climbed aboard the back, skillfully avoiding the notice of the two riders. He found a concealed spot, hunkering down silently. Around him were the eight boxes that seemed to store the unknown, he now planned to stow himself within one.

Navigating the cramped space between the boxes, 621 deftly avoided the gaze of the two riders stationed alongside the carriage. He moved with the precision of a shadow, slipping through the narrow gaps with calculated grace.

As he reached each box, he took extra care to stay low and remain in the shadows, ensuring the riders wouldn't catch a glimpse of him. The rhythmic clatter of hooves and the creaking of the carriage masked his subtle movements. The two riders, focused on their fast ride, remained oblivious to the stealthy figure maneuvering around the carriage.

With each box he inspected, 621 skillfully avoided the riders' attention, until he found the partially filled seventh container. The lid closed silently, concealing him within, as he continued to elude the notice of those nearby. The entourage continued its journey, unaware of the stowaway now concealed among its cargo.