Chapter 9
Standing outside the imposing structure of the Paragon's manor, 621 processed the unexpected turn of events within its walls with a calculated detachment. The air hung heavy with the echoes of Trevor's words and Oberon's compliance, leaving 621 in a state of contemplation.
"Life throws us surprises indeed," 621 agreed, his voice devoid of any emotional inflection.
He had just witnessed the orchestration of Alicia’s assassination, a plan set into motion not by his hand but by her own brother of all people. It left him confused and somewhat indifferent as he tried to process the dynamics of familial bonds as a mere spectator with a sense of unfamiliarity and curiosity.
Gazing at the well-kept manor one last time, 621 couldn't help but analyze Trevor's actions with a cold, logical perspective. His upbringing within the Order of Shadows had instilled a methodical understanding of the world, one devoid of sentimental nuances.
The absence of siblings among his fellow pawns and himself meant he had never encountered the complexities of familial relationships. He felt like he should understand but a sense of confusion fogged his mind preventing him from fully realizing the truth.
In the solitude of the night, 621 engaged in a silent internal analysis, probing the depths of his understanding as he pondered,
"Was that a normal…human occurrence?", his voice a mere whisper in the quiet night.
Subsequently, Trevor's request to Oberon, to carry out the act of violence on his behalf, triggered a puzzling curiosity in 621. He found that the ruthlessness he shared with his fellow pawns seemed to be mirrored within Trevor, yet he felt that a subtle difference lingered—Trevor though similar was still entirely different.
‘It was truly inefficient’, 621 thought. He simply couldn’t understand why Trevor was unable to kill Alicia with his own hands.
….
In the depths of the moonlit forest, somewhere far away from Salem and the paragon’s manor, 621 stood precariously in a clearing. Carefully laid out in front of him were five items he had looted from Alicia's dimensional bag. A silver locket, ornate dagger, glowing vial, small wooden figurine, and a mysterious leather-bound journal all rested on a makeshift table of a moss-covered stone.
His initial focus shifted towards the journal, and with a methodical approach, he began perusing its contents. The cryptic entries spoke of secrets, of shadows, covert dealings, locations and enigmatic codes. As his discerning eyes moved through the pages, he sought connections, patterns, or any clues that might unveil the identity of the Umbral Council token concealed among the five items.
‘No mention of Vulture’ he paused, looking slightly disappointed; ‘Perhaps she was innocent after all.’ 621 casually noted as if unperturbed by the fact that Alicia’s life meant nothing to him.
Meanwhile, a subset of his eerie mind remained attuned to the surroundings, prepared for any potential threats or unwelcome surprises. The distant rustle of leaves and nocturnal whispers of the forest merely became part of the ambient background as he continued his meticulous examination.
..
Unbeknownst to 621, his careful, calculated actions triggered a knowing consequence. The life charm concealed among the items unexpectedly activated, resonating with a mysterious force.
Instinctively, Hubert a patient man, from the confines of his study room within the manor suddenly felt a subtle disturbance—a specific connection tugged at the edges of his trained senses. His neck snapped towards a particular direction whilst a wide demonic smile began to form on his face.
“I found you!”, he exclaimed in an excitement that betrayed a furious undertone.
In a flash, Hubert's instincts, honed through years of supernatural atonement responded immediately to the disturbance. With a surge of urgency, he rose from his chair, abandoning the dimly lit study. His departure was swift, pushed forward by a potent mixture of rage and a suppressed feeling of murderous intent.
The manor's corridors blurred as he left in haste. His rush prompting a couple of personal guards, clad in impeccable amour, to follow after him.
..
In the secluded forest, 621, oblivious to the unfolding events, continued his meticulous examination, unaware that his actions had already triggered the life charm that he had yet to identify.
After a thorough review of the journal, 621's attention shifted back to the five items on display. Each object held its own secrets, yet one stood out—the small wooden figurine. As he turned it in his hands, he noticed a discreet compartment, and within it, a concealed token bearing an unmistakable mark; one that resembled a particular symbol found in the journal.
“This must be it, it’s the same mark…the key” he muttered, sure of the fact that this was the Umbral Council’s token. A subtle sense of satisfaction accompanied the discovery.
With the Umbral Council token securely stowed away in his dimensional bag, 621 now faced the critical decision of dealing with the remaining three items that potentially concealed the life charm. The forest around him seemed to hold its breath, awaiting the unfolding events.
He knew for certain that one of these items was the so-called life charm. And 621 was conscious of his time, he predicted that the life charm would’ve been activated the moment he took the items out of the dimensional bag. After all, he found Hubert’s arrival too suspicious on that previous occasion.
‘His arrival was far too quick, it must have been the very moment her fingers touched the dimensional bag…’, he sighed mentally. ‘That was a mistake.’
Nevertheless, he made ample preparations, thus choosing to identify the items in an extremely far location.
A calculating gaze swept over the journal, figurine, vial, the pendant, and the ornate dagger—each holding its own allure and enigma. He hesitated only momentarily, recognizing the potential danger these items could pose. The decision was swift, and his actions were deliberate.
With a determined focus, he destroyed both the pendant and the dagger leaving behind mere scraps. Then, he uncorked the vial as a strange smell wafted into the surroundings but 621 merely shut down his sense of smell as he poured the liquid onto the ground before shattering the vial with his mere hands.
Finally, summoning his mystical abilities, 621 conjured a vivid green flame that flickered to life as he set the wooden figurine and the worn journal ablaze. The cryptic entries of the journal soon turning to ashes in the ethereal fire.
He did not want to leave any unnecessary potential traces revolving around the Umbral Council, for he had hoped that Alicia was the last and only link.
As for the remaining scraps, 621 had different plans as he swiftly and carefully buried them strategically beneath the forest soil in a particular location. Truthfully, he was unsure if the life charm was still intact and active after his swift actions but nevertheless; he had a contingency plan in place, one that had been prepared much earlier.
After the last embers of the journal dispersed into the night, 621 ultimately retreated, his senses alert to any disturbance in the forest as a playful smile formed beneath his mask.
“Enjoy the surprise, paragon.” He whispered into the cool night as he moved deeper into the forest facing a particular and oblique direction.
….
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[2 days later]
Perched atop a towering oak tree, 621 gazed upon a peculiar village sprawled out before him in the distance, nestled in the embrace of the mountainous terrain. The village, hidden from the maps he had meticulously studied, seemed to materialize from the lush surroundings, a well-kept secret lost in the folds of never-ending nature.
Unlike the war-torn city of Salem, this secluded haven remained unmarred by the harsh realities of conflict. The buildings, crafted from timber and stone, stood in harmonious simple unity with the natural landscape, their roofs adorned with vibrant flora that embraced the village in a verdant embrace. The air, untainted by the stench of war, carried with it a serene melody, the laughter of carefree villagers echoing through the mountain valleys.
As 621 scouted, he found that the villagers went about their daily routines with an air of tranquility, seemingly untouched by the chaos of the outside world. He saw merchants peddling their wares in open-air markets, children chasing each other through muddy unpaved paths, and elders exchanging tales under the shade of ancient swaying trees.
His gaze, however, lingered on the children, their laughter, their innocence, and their unburdened spirits. Some were of an age akin to his own, while others spanned a spectrum from younger to older. The sight of their carefree existence struck a deep chord within him.
As he observed them, his mind which was a product of survival forged in the crucible of the Order of Shadows, reflected on the stark differences between their lives and his own.
For them, it was a season of laughter, play, and discovery—a luxury he never indulged in. Instead, he had matured too quickly, his innocence replaced by the cold, calculated instincts of a relentless killer. He couldn’t understand this.
‘Why am I so different from them?’ he pondered, the question a persistent whisper amidst the cheerful symphony of youthful voices. He tried to grapple the understanding of emotions that seemed dance in their eyes. They were emotions that he was unfamiliar with; ones that he could not fathom.
As 621 continued his unyielding observation of the carefree children below, an unfamiliar sensation began to stir within him—an enigma that defied the logic and stoicism he had cultivated throughout his existence. The feeling emanated from the depths of his chest.
The strange pulse, a subtle vibration in his core, echoed through him like a distant resonance, perplexing his rather complex mind. It was as if a dormant facet of his being, long subdued in the shadows, was attempting to breach the surface, yearning for recognition though barely.
‘What is this feeling?’ he questioned, not in the context of emotional understanding, for emotions were elusive to him, but as an analytical inquiry seeking logical comprehension. He scrutinized the peculiar sensation with the same precision he applied to every mystery encountered.
However, rather than entertaining this anomalous sensation with further curiosity or allowing it to unfold its madness, 621 instead responded with the decisive efficiency of a well-trained assassin. As the unsettling feeling attempted to unfurl within him, he forcefully and abruptly terminated its growth, akin to a merciless gardener cutting down an unwanted weed.
In the cold precision of his mental faculties, he found that he quite despised the emergence of this alien entity, this subtle hint of something he couldn't quite grasp. It was as if a flicker of vulnerability had sought refuge within the fortress of his psyche, a weakness he found rather intolerable.
And like a shattering glass vessel, he squashed any inkling of this incipient feeling, his internal thoughts expressed an unequivocal rejection. It was as if a switch was flipped, plunging his internal landscape back into the familiar shadows.
"Truly strange..." he mumbled as he instinctively placed a hand over his heart, as if attempting to extinguish a dying flame that threatened to illuminate the shadows within.
Resolute and composed, 621 swiftly diverted his focus back to the mission at hand. With calculated efficiency, he procured a simple white mask—smooth, flat, and unremarkable. It covered his visage entirely, leaving only apertures for his eyes.
As he donned the mask, it was as though he sought to not only conceal his physical features but also metaphorically shroud the embryonic emotions that dared to surface.
With the mask securely in place, 621 blended seamlessly into the shade, becoming an ephemeral presence in the periphery. He traversed the distance between his hiding spot and the village in quick successive maneuvers as he reappeared inside the confines of the village.
Positioned within a shadowed alcove, shielded by the contours of a wooden structure, he observed the surroundings, searching for a specific spot in the rocky walls of the mountain serving as the village’s central cover.
621 meticulously scoured the rocky expanse in search of a clandestine location hinted at in Alicia's journal. His eyes, trained to discern subtle details, scanned the terrain with unwavering focus.
After a thorough examination, his keen observation led him to an unassuming ledge that protruded from the mountain's face. It clung precariously to the rocky facade, high above the village, appearing inconspicuous to those oblivious to its existence.
To the unsuspecting villagers, the ledge might have blended seamlessly with the rugged backdrop, but to 621, it stood out like a sore thumb, it was a covert vantage point hidden in plain sight.
With the grace of a shadow and the agility borne of a cultivated art, 621 ascended the mountain, each leap and bound orchestrated with meticulous precision. Unseen by any mortal eye, he navigated the rocky terrain with ease, reaching the hidden ledge with an almost ethereal swiftness.
Upon reaching the ledge, a seemingly unremarkable protrusion along the mountain's surface, 621 uncovered its concealed secret. He approached the sheer rock face, his fingers tracing a rhythmic pattern upon its surface, a silent code only known to those initiated into the clandestine mysteries. As the echoes of his taps resonated in the mountain air, the supernatural responded.
The rock face yielded to his touch, a section of it surrendering to an otherworldly force. It caved inward, unveiling a dark entrance that stretched into the mountain's depths. The revealed passage seemed to defy earthly dimensions, an enigmatic gateway beckoning 621 to venture inside.
As 621 stepped into the concealed entrance, the passage seemed to respond to his presence. Almost immediately, the opening through which he entered sealed itself, leaving no trace of the concealed gateway behind. A fleeting moment of darkness enveloped him, but it lasted only briefly.
Tiny gemstones embedded into the walls flickered to life, casting a gentle luminescence that illuminated the rocky path ahead. Guided by the subtle radiance of the gems, 621 proceeded with a quiet and guarded determination, navigating the labyrinthine passages of the Umbral Council's hidden hub, his senses sharpened and his focus unwavering.
His steps echoed mindlessly into the narrow passageway as he soon found himself faced with another barrier in the form of a massive stone door with a hollow circular hole engraved on it's surface. Logical reasoning would explain that the token would be required here thus 621 took out the Umbral council's token from his dimensional bag and inserted it into the hole on the stone block. And indeed, he was right.
The stone door, massive and ancient, groaned and creaked in protest as soon as the token was inserted into the engraved orifice. Its colossal weight shifted, revealing a hidden passage beyond.
As the door swung open, it unveiled a vast, cavernous expanse concealed within the mountain's heart. The walls of rock seamlessly housed structures that formed a clandestine village within the bowels of the earth.
Upon crossing the threshold into the hidden hub, 621 found himself immersed in an atmosphere shrouded in secrecy. The air felt different, thick with unspoken truths and concealed intentions. The buildings etched into the rock, adorned with strange symbols and dimly lit by the glow of mysterious gemstones, created an ethereal and surreal backdrop.
Around him, approximately a hundred masked figures maybe more, moved with a sense of purpose, engaged in their clandestine activities paying him no mind whatsoever.
Each member of the council concealed their identity behind a white mask that only had holes for the eyes, adding an additional layer of intrigue to the enigmatic scene; it was customary. Some individuals even had red dashes on their white masks denoting the difference in rank.
The network of passageways intertwined with the structures, creating an elaborate and otherworldly environment. The entire cavern itself seemed to breathe with a pulsating energy, as if it held secrets echoing through time. The members of the Umbral Council, aloof and silent, navigated this concealed realm with practiced ease.
As 621 traversed deeper into the hub, the orchestrated movements of the residents unfolded like a carefully choreographed dance. While some acknowledged his presence with fleeting glances, an unwritten pact of confidentiality permeated the air – an unspoken agreement among those who valued the shadows. This was because the council valued anonymity above everything.
Navigating through the Umbral Council's concealed hub, 621's sharp mind analyzed the unfamiliar scene before him. Echoes of his past with the Order of Shadows surfaced, but here, differences carved a unique path.
"Masks, not just in purpose but as veils concealing identity. A departure from the Order's exposed faces, its quite odd….uncomfortable even."
The concealed identities of the Umbral Council members intrigued him. ‘How are they able to distinguish one from another?’ he pondered deeply.
621, adapting to the Umbral Council's secretive world, skillfully mimicked the subtle behaviours of its members, his every move calculated to blend seamlessly into the masked crowd.
As he navigated the cavern, he noticed peculiarities in the architecture—buildings integrated into the rock, concealed and efficient. The masked figures moved with purpose, carrying out tasks that remained mysterious to him. Conversations held in hushed tones hinted at clandestine dealings.
Despite his attempts at assimilation, 621 remained vigilant, his keen senses kept dissecting the cryptic atmosphere around him.
621 observed the masked figures entering and leaving various structures within the cavern. Some buildings bore storefronts, while others displayed overhead titles indicating their purpose.
After meticulous observation, 621 chose to enter a distinctive structure labelled as the "Esoteric Archives." Its very name hinted at information trading, a vital aspect of the council's dealings, one that held an importance to 621’s mission.
As 621 stepped into the enigmatic building, the air within seemed to pulse with concealed knowledge. The dimly lit space held an aura of secrecy, accentuated by the soft glow of concealed sources. Mysterious figures moved about interacting with each other.
A shadowy figure quickly approached 621, acknowledging his presence with a subtle nod. Likewise, the stranger's white mask hid any discernible features, leaving an air of intrigue in their wake, however, this person held a higher rank forcing 621 to be on guard. Adorning the mask was a single red dash on the cheek, a singular mark of distinction that set this individual apart.
“Welcome weaver, how can I be of service?”