After speaking with all of the suspects, Adam couldn't shake off the distinct feeling that he may as well not have bothered. Despite taking his time each of them, he didn't get much out of them aside from a word here or there – although he was still willing to take something over nothing.

Serena, the Master of Communications, had precious little to offer about the crime itself. The woman merely swore that she'd been in her room and hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary. She did, however, have a small status update for Adam.

"The Grandmaster replied to our message," Serena told him. "He says that Puppet soldiers will be stationed at the dock."

"Good."

"Not so. The Grandmaster of Puppets was furious. There will be death when we arrive, be it the culprit's...or someone else's."

"Again," Adam confidently repeated, "good."

Captain Baltsar was second on his list. That conversation was slightly more productive – unfortunately. While it let him confirm a few key points...he also discovered something that he wished he hadn't.

"I saw you using the key to check on the lower decks after the murder," Adam said, bluntly. "I presume that means it wasn't stolen?"

"No, my lord – the key was stolen! I've been meaning to tell you, but we haven't had any privacy until now!"

"Then how did you get inside?" Adam insisted. "That only way through that cursed door is with its key. You informed me of that yourself."

"His Highness," Baltsar blurted out. "H-His Imperial Highness, Prince Tenver. He found the key and returned it to me just before you raised the alarm."

Adam and Solara shared a concerned look. While she hadn't been as quick to suspect Tenver as him – rather funny, he thought, considering their distaste for each other – this gave her pause. Tenver...why can't you just be honest with us? What are you hiding? Are you really...?

He got nothing else out of Baltsar, dismissing him after a few minutes of unfruitful interviewing. Ferrero the Duelist was the next and last to be questioned. The man said just one thing Adam found interesting, and even then only after being prodded.

It was there that Tenver's gift proved invaluable. Which – after the captain's revelation – felt a bit ironic, really.

"Do you personally know anyone else aboard this ship?" Adam asked.

"I...well, of course," Ferraro replied. "Serena makes this trip often enough, and the captain is always helming the ship, of course."

Based on their previous conversation, the duelist looked more nervous than Adam thought he'd be. The silence that followed was so unbearable that Ferraro bit his lip, breaking both his skin and the silence a second later. "Lord Adam, I, ah – I'm also familiar with...well, your gaze tells me you know of it."

"Valeria, yes." Adam pondered whether to add 'the detective' or 'the scholar', before ultimately choosing to omit her title. Wonder what you'd call her. "Would you say that the two of you are good friends?"

"No," Ferraro quickly replied. "That doesn't sound accurate to me, my lord. We're just old acquaintances. I suppose we know each other well enough, but that's just due to the passage of time – we've never been particularly close."

Adam slowly nodded. "That makes sense." He gave a meaningful pause for just long enough that his follow-up question would feel abrupt. "How long have you been in love with her?"

Skilled as Ferrero might have been with the sword, he wasn't used to verbal sparring, and it showed. The duelist gave the game away with a single expression on his face. "How'd you–"

"I have my ways," Adam said, with a regal bearing, as if he'd somehow contacted a legion of spymasters while in mid-air. "You will explain yourself."

Ferraro's resistance perished as he hung his head in surrender. To him, this was a disaster fine and full. Although he wasn't upset or nervous, he knew full well that he was outmatched on this sort of battlefield.

Adam kept his face impassive as he internally celebrated. In truth, his accusation had been a wild guess. He'd prepared to be off the mark – which would have netted him useful information regardless. As it turned out, he was actually right, and now Ferraro was cornered. The duelist no longer knew what was safe to keep from Adam. If he said the wrong thing, even just the smallest lie, it could draw suspicion onto him.

Tenver was to thank for this outcome. Adam wouldn't have known about Ferrreo's association with Valeria otherwise. It was a surprise that would soon lead to many others.

Sighing, the duelist raised his head. "Did you know that they keep the corpse of a dragon in the Puppet Mines?"

"I did not."

"Most of the time, it looks like solid rock. But once every seven years, for a fleeting few hours, the corpse sheds some of its dead scales – if death even applies to a dragon, I suppose. . The scales turn into Orbs as they hit the ground. Some people come to try and collect them, line their pockets, but most come just because of how beautiful it is. Watching so many Orbs come into the world at once...it's a show of lights you can't see anywhere else."

He drew a deep breath. "I met Valeria then."

"And you fell in love at first sight?" Adam asked, raising an eyebrow. He was among those who doubted such a thing existed.

"No," the duelist said, frowning in remembrance. "At the time, I only thought she was...unique. She has a certain oddness to her, you understand? At some point over the years, my feelings..."

Ferrero gave a weak, sheepish laugh. Then, with the tone of someone attempting to forcibly change topics, he said, "The Corpse Festival is quite the sight – I believe the next one would be less than a year from now. If my lord has the time, I recommend making a trip."

This was all he said that was of any use.

Adam tried summoning Tenver last, but when Solara came back into the room she had a grimace on her face, shaking her head from side-to-side.

"He won't come?" Adam asked.

"Lord Tenver," Solara began, every word dripping with annoyance, "said he would come if you'd like to share a drink, and that he has nothing of value to share with you. He stated that everything he'd be likely to say has already crossed your mind."

"Then perhaps my answer has crossed his." Adam sighed. "Very well. It'll have to do. We're going as soon as I'm finished with this. I've been sketching something on and off...we might need it."

He turned his tablet around to show Solara his drawing. While it was far from high art, it would probably work. The monster itself might be immune to his painting, but not the culprit – assuming they were two different people, anyhow, which Adam was pretty certain of. A simplistic sketch should suffice.

Moreover, he liked its aesthetic.

The sketch had no background to speak of; its backdrop was just a white void. An onlooker's attention would immediately be drawn to the rightmost side, where an amalgamation of inked dots shaped together something between a monster and an infection. Individually, none of his strokes were anything more than uneven lines or circles, yet the space between them was small and purposeful, just enough to give the semblance of a giant monster's head, complete with eyes – shaped by a gap in the inking rather than a stroke in and of itself – and a mouth.

And leading up to that sketch, was a stylized, human-shaped figure dragging another person towards the creature's mouth, leaving behind the only trace of color in the sketch...a thick, red line that evoked the sensation, though not the appearance,of footprints.

"Are you that certain of who the culprit is?" Solara asked, raising an eyebrow and studying the painting. "Because if not, it seems odd to have your painting prepared ahead of time."

"I'm fairly certain." Adam shrugged. "However, I'll only know for sure at the time And even if the drawing needs to be in the ballpark of that person's soul, I still haven't titled it yet."

"Does the title make that much of a difference?"

"It can." Adam rubbed his chin pensively as he studied his drawing. Anything else I can add here? I went minimalistic partially because of the time constraints, but...

"A title won't make a painting that's entirely unrelated to my target work, but it can really change how an art piece is perceived." He considered his own words for a second. Was that fair to say? "Well, actually...a title can even change the art in and of itself."

"Come again?"

"Sometimes, the name of a piece of art will completely alter how you feel about it. And sometimes it's completely worthless." Adam contemplated whether using examples from Earth would be a problem, but then figured that Solara wouldn't know the names of any painters or art pieces from this world either. "The Mona Lisa wasn't even called the Mona Lisa, you know? It just got that name after the fact. The title didn't mean much there."

He watched Solara nod as if she understood. Adam might as well have made up a name and elicited the same reaction. "But then, you look at something like Gustave Courbet's 'The Desperate Man' and...even though you could've gotten that reading of the painting without it – I mean, it does feature a desperate looking man – the small guidance in interpretation really is what sells it as a work of art."

There was a greater than zero chance that Adam was deeply boring Solara with this, but it had been a long time since he'd gotten the chance to talk about art like this, and by god he was going to take it. "Titles weren't even a thing for the longest time, really. They only started seeing usage around when art pieces started being toured around and – you know, at that point you need a title. Just for marketability's sake, yeah?"

Solara nodded again, her face blank, and said politely, "Yes, of course."

"At the same time, a lot of art benefits from a title, especially ones that feature physical objects. Installations like 'The Physical Impossibility of Death in the Mind of Someone Living' flat-out don't make sense without the title, but with it...there's something the artist is saying, you know? And even for paintings – 'The Persistence of Memory' wouldn't make its point at all without the title."

Eh. That last one is debatable, but close enough. That was when Adam noticed Solara's head tilt to the side slightly, and decided this was a good place to stop. "My point is that the title of a work of art can mean a lot. It doesn't always. But it can. And I'm planning on using it for any adjustments I need when the time comes."

Solara nodded enthusiastically this time, appearing to either be very interested in that last point – or merely glad that Adam had stopped talking about a subject she neither understood nor cared much about. "We're good to go, then?"

"Not yet," Adam muttered. For one thing, he needed to make sure that one of his emergency Solara drawings was ready on a different tab, just in case. It is. Good. "No matter how well my plans go, chances are there's probably going to be a fight. With that in mind..."

One of the only reasons he'd survived his fight with the Ghost of Flames was because of his Lord Talent. Even without actively using it, the Talent enhanced his durability and stamina enough that he managed to crawl to the finish line of their duel. Assuming a fight broke out against the Ghost of Waters, who had an even higher ranked Talent...well, things would get rough.

As far as Orbs went, he had ϕ4,960,508, thanks in part to Belmordo. He needed to save most of those for Penumbria's sake, as the city required at least ϕ5,050,000 to operate safely. I'm so close to keeping everyone alive, he thought. Maybe I can get away without spending too much here.

Penumbria wouldn't survive if Adam himself didn't, but there was no point in surviving if he couldn't keep the city afloat, either. Spending just enough to survive, yet not so much that he wouldn't bankrupt the city...it was a very thin line to thread.

There was no time for indecision. I will survive this, he told himself, and I'll get even more Orbs for Penumbria. I – I need to buy this!

It felt awful to spend so much. Inside, he felt his stomach churn at the thought of how many Orbs he was going to burn through, and there was no stopping the images of the hundreds of citizens he could have saved with that amount instead of doing this. Adam felt guilt invade his body as he reached for the Orbs. For a second he froze, thinking of maybe trying to win this without spending anything.

Yet there was no way around it, and he knew that. Adam had to spend Orbs if he wanted to live. He'd accounted for a variety of different situations, but even his ideal plan still resulted in a violent fight. Being overconfident that he could resolve this situation without paying any price whatsoever would only hurt his people more. I have to survive...then earn enough Orbs from the Puppets to make up for the cost.

It burned his heart to do it, but he had to.

I wonder...is this what billionaires tell themselves? That they have to do all the shit they do so they can stay rich and take care of their charities? Adam grit his teeth at the thought. Not now. I can't afford to let my mind wander.

He spent ϕ2,626,093.75 to rise his Talent to a new rank. It made him sick with himself.

And he couldn't let it show on his face.

"Did you just spend...nearly three million Orbs?" Solara asked, in shock.

Adam smiled at her. "What of it?"

"Most people give more thought to such a purchase," she said, raising an eyebrow. Then, she added, somewhat harshly, "Especially when their territory is in such dire financial state."

"I am not most people," Adam said, his voice full of bravado. "I'll make the money up – and then some – after this incident."

Even if he trusted the elf now, Adam couldn't allow himself to appear vulnerable. Eric had taught him that no matter how you trusted someone, showing them your weaknesses never turned out well. Better to keep this to myself.

Besides, Solara had enough ghosts to last a lifetime. Let this guilt haunt Adam, and him alone. No reason to make her feel complicit.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

With a heavy sigh, trying to steady his nerves, he glanced at his tablet.

Lord [Viscount]

Ability: Dominion of Shadows

Why, my lord! You've become quite fantastic, have you not? We cannot allow for you to be wholly seen as a peasant outside of your domain.. You can, for a short time, treat the space around you and a 'guest' as part of your Domain, so long as you step on their shadow.

Adam's guilt took a short pause. He hadn't counted on gaining a new ability, although it was far from unwelcome. The description was strange, though. Before, the phrasing of his abilities had seemed almost clinical, but now it was something much more personalized.

Who's writing these? Adam thought once again, staring at his tablet as if it somehow held the answers. Who's behind the Talents and – is it just magic? Just how things are? No, there's no way I can believe that when everything seems so...carefully crafted.

He'd have to mull it over later; for now, there was a murderer to bring to light. "Alright," Adam said, rising to meet Solara's gaze. "We're ready."

–

To say that the room was tense when Adam returned would've been a grievous understatement. Every single occupant eyed him with a mixture of anticipation, resentment, and concern. Out of those, Tenver was the exception, standing with his arms crossed and nonchalantly leaning against the wall. The title of 'Most Nervous' went to either the captain or the duelist, surprisingly enough.

This will end in bloodshed, Adam confirmed. Powered by that thought, he walked past them to grab a cup of water from the table set against the opposite side of the room. If everything was going to hell soon enough, he might as well be hydrated first.

After allowing himself one last moment of dark foreboding, it was time to focus. Adam cleared his throat to draw their attention – and to signal the beginning of it all. "If I can be so bold as to declare this...I have met with the monster."

"Monster?" Ferrero sounded surprised. "There's a monster aboard?"

"Two, to be precise," Adam replied, holding up his index and middle fingers. "One is a Stained Creature; the other is its human accomplice."

The room exploded into a flurry of noise, excuses, and accusations. Captain Baltsar's voice rose louder than the rest, cutting through the din like a sword through armor. While he'd been acting somewhat meek before, now he addressed the room with authority, reminding everyone that it was he who captained this vessel. "My lord, how do you know of this?"

Adam had been afraid of this point. He couldn't admit to having spoken with the Ghost of Waters in his mind – his 'Canvas' as it had been called – without revealing too much about himself. Hell, even if he did, chances were that no one would believe him. He'd been struggling over how to answer this for a while now.

Then he'd remembered that he was the Lord of Penumbria. "How I know this is not of your concern," Adam dryly stated. "Unless you care to question my authority, captain."

Two authorities clashed, and only one reigned supreme. "No, I...of course not. My lord." This time, Baltsar came across as more resentful than scared. No one wanted to carry what amounted to a volatile weapon of mass destruction aboard their ship , especially when it threatened to explode when disagreed with. Even Tenver, who the captain saw as the true Imperial Prince, had less authority than Adam in this moment. "I only ask so we know what you're getting at."

"Only this: the Stained Monster has a Talent of high ranking. At least a Duke, perhaps higher. And he can hide in substances like water, maybe other liquids." Adam peered around the room, searching for an unusual reaction. Nothing so far. They were just listening to his every word, intently and carefully. "Frankly speaking, none of our Talents can match that. Even if we find out where the monster is hiding...we can't kill it."

Tenver suddenly uncrossed his arms and spoke up. "Not like we need to spend much effort looking for the abomination. There's no way it would let us reach the Mines unharmed, right Adam? Ah, we're in public – forgive me." He coughed as if ashamed, but his smile never left his face. "Is that correct, Lord Adam?"

You're dancing with fire, Tenver. "Correct," Adam said, with a laconic tone. "There's too many Puppets waiting for us at the docks. Given that Puppets were...created to attract and even bait Stained Creatures, they won't be able to hide themselves here. I imagine that before this incident, the ship itself wasn't exactly inspected by the Mines, was it?"

"No," Baltsar replied, shaking his head and looking down. "In...less than legal encounters like this, you drop people off and leave immediately. There was no need for them to search my ship, and I wouldn't have allowed it if they'd tried it – I mean, um...not that I don't trust Puppets, of course, but..."

Though the captain trailed off, the presence of the word 'but' indicated he meant the opposite of what preceded it. Adam didn't think that point in particular mattered much. "In other words," he continued, "the Ghost of Waters would rather not allow the ship to be searched upon arrival. And to do that...well, the easiest way is to kill all of us, isn't it?"

Ferrero looked around the room pensively. "If there's a Stained Monster hiding somewhere, with a higher ranked Talent than anyone here, then slowly picking us apart would make sense. But if he's so much stronger than us, why not just show up and kill us right now?"

"Because of two reasons," Adam said, once again holding up his index and middle fingers. "The first one..." He turned the fingers toward himself. "Is me. Even though my Lord Talent is lower ranked, he knows how many Orbs I have. If pushed to a corner, what's to say I wouldn't spend enough Orbs to match him in a fight? At that point, he would be in danger. And second–"

Adam's arm shot forward as if he was brandishing a weapon, one finger pointed forward. All eyes in the room followed it like a guiding light until they'd found his target.

"Serena, the Master of Communications," Adam said, simply. "While she has only contacted the Mines so far, I don't think it would be out of line to suggest she could contact the Empire if needed."

The woman let out an amused laugh. "That is certainly true." There was an air of detachment in her voice...and even now, she refused to show her face. "I suppose you think the creature might be counting itself lucky that I have yet to inform the Empire of what transpired here? That it would benefit from killing me in the dark?"

"Absolutely."

"Well, my lord," Serena said, with a sort of bitter amusement. "I suppose this means that by stating my capabilities so clearly – assuming the Stained Monster can hear us – you have forced its hand. It will have to attack right now, despite the risk of your Lord Talent."

"That would be the case...if I didn't have a slightly better deal to offer the monster."

"A deal?"

"Yes. Valeria, come over here," Adam ordered.

She obeyed with a flourishing bow, suddenly abandoning the shy, quiet scholar image she'd projected until now. Valeria stalked towards him with confidence, and when she reached him, it was with that same arrogant smirk she'd sported back in his room. "What do you desire of me, my lord?"

Adam faced the crowd, not her, and spoke in a casual tone, "Valeria is a Puppet."

He observed their reactions. Tenver raised an eyebrow, the captain appeared flabbergasted, Serena's face was still hidden, and Ferrero's hand fell to his sword hilt.

Of course, Adam didn't let any of them get a word in. "She bears the Talent of Detection, and I have offered her citizenship in Penumbria pending her cooperation. As the detective, Valeria will help me slay this monster."

It was Tenver who cut in with something more than mere shock. "And how will she do that?"

"Her Talent," Adam plainly stated. "Her sword becomes stronger the more secrets she dispels. I think it's not entirely without basis to assume that if she makes enough correct deductions, that her weapon might become strong enough to damage even the Stained Monster."

"Ahhhh." Tenver nodded. "That does make sense."

Ferrero stepped forward and unsheathed his sword. "Hang on just a moment!" he yelled angrily. "This is a serial killing – a deep, dark secret of a mystery! If Valeria is wrong even once, she's going to fucking die!"

Adam shook his head. "That's not going to be a problem."

"Why not?" Ferrero insisted.

"Because," Adam calmly replied, "she's going to repeat my deductions. And I don't plan on being wrong."

It was Valeria who spoke up first, genuine laughter filling the air. She lazily glanced around the room, stretching her arms above her head for a moment, then stopping her gaze at Ferrero, saying nothing. A second later, she whirled around and faced Adam.

"Such a hard demand for citizenship," Valeria said, her voice a parody of fear. "Do you truly think I'll go along with this?"

"Yes," Adam answered promptly.

"Why?"

"You probably have a good idea of what actually happened. The fact that you refuse to explain...well, it's just another mystery for me to solve."

Valeria froze, as if paralyzed by an invisible spell. Then, almost immediately after, she broke into a theatrical spin, clapping her hands all the while. "Well done my lord!" she said, projecting her voice. "Well done!"

When she was done clapping, everyone realized, perhaps too late, that she'd drawn her sword and touched the back of Adam's neck with the edge of her blade. Solara might not have been the first to notice, but she was the first to draw her own weapon in response. "You disgraceful Puppet–"

Adam held up his hand to stop her. "She's not going to kill me," he said, firmly. "Not until I say something that would've gotten her killed...or do something out of line." Unflinchingly, as if his life wasn't hanging by a thread, Adam turned around to face the detective, the steel never leaving his skin as he did so. This is more or less what I expected.

"You're testing me, aren't you?" Adam asked. "I'm not sure on the details yet, but you want to know how trustworthy I am."

"Not everything is about trust, my lord," Valeria said joyfully. "This is about competency. You intend to do business with the Grandmaster, and alas, he is quite kind. If he decides to help some absurdly stupid lord rebelling against the Empire...then the Mines, one of our last bastions of freedom, might be destroyed."

There's more to this, Adam considered. It's not just that. It was also likely that, as a Lord, he was quite hard to kill...in addition to something else he couldn't quite place yet. If she can power up her blade as we confront his mystery, then she might be able to dispose of me if we reach the Mines.

There was an argument to be made that it was safer to try to solve this mystery without her.

Ah, what the hell – why even entertain that thought? He was going to do this his way. Besides...if I'm right, I think the Puppet Mines might be on our side.

Now, it was Adam who engaged in theater, dramatically opening up his arms and spinning around to face the crowd. Valeria's steel did not chase after him. When he spoke, it was not the crowd that he addressed; it was the drinks, the shadows, the everything else.

"Monster!" Adam cried out. "You can hear us, can't you? Here's my challenge – our only way out is betting on Valeria's Detective Talent. If we get a single deduction wrong, however, either me or Valeria will die. It means we'll have no way of identifying you – and at that point, you'll have an easy time picking off the remainder of us at night. You might even be able to kill Serena before she can warn the Empire about this Duke-ranked Ghost that they'd send a Hangman after."

The corners of his mouth crept up with excitement. "Most of all...you've got nothing to lose by waiting a few moments. So why not entertain us?"

His statement wasn't fully accurate. The Ghost of Waters did have something to lose. Allowing Valeria's blade to power up would be reckless at best. But for whatever reason, the Ghost seemed inordinately secretive. It apparently had an incentive for trying to solve this with as little fanfare as possible. And most of all...

"Very well, Painter. I shall play with you."

Most of all...judging from our conversation, you're a sick bastard who thinks this whole thing is fun, don't you?

An all-encompassing darkness started to enshroud them, barely pushed back by the soft glow of candles lining the room. The Ghost's voice, as if birthed from the very shadows, swirled and echoed, intertwining with the dim light. Faces turned, their eyes searching for the source, but the voice seemed to have no beginning or end.

Everyone can hear it this time. It's not just me. It's taunting us. The sound was omnipresent, and though they did their best, not a single one of them could discern from whence it came.

All except one. "Puppets were made to find and bait these creatures," Valeria said through a grin. "My blade will find it – when it's time to cut it down."

And so began a deathmatch where their lives depended on finding the culprit hidden amongst them.

"Auricio, the Ghost of the Stained Waters – the game is afoot!" Adam cried out. Then, to the room, he thundered out, "And now you all know why hiding secrets is a poor idea...unless you're the culprit. Speak! Speak, and prove your innocence!"

He aimed the statement directly at Tenver. You can't wiggle your way out of this. I let it slide earlier because I knew you'd argue, but there's no staying silent anymore.

It had seemed like a solid plan to Adam, but he didn't even have time to turn his gaze to Tenver before he heard Captain Baltsar loudly exclaim, "It's her!"

Slowly, everyone followed the old man's outstretched finger – all the way to the other side of the room, where the old woman had been seated. "Serena –she – she's a Puppet!" Baltsar accused.