Antica’s ignited and ever-baggy eyes stared around this space she was now within… Vision having long adjusted, she could see…
A small confined space located directly underneath what was…an old abandoned building of sorts; one that was rather discreet and isolated in its location, having required quite the walk—uphill, no less.
Dusty and unoccupied, though evidently receiving active maintenance. The space around was lit by rather potent lamps—oil, probably. Predominantly wooden and brick; it was somewhat evident from the distinct interior design and aesthetics…that it was Guild-affiliated.
There was not much within this compact…primitive bunker of sorts besides a center table, small beddings, a few wooden barrels and crates, among other minimal essentials. There was a tight-locked door, though, off to her left—likely a storage space or such—, and there was a map of sorts pinned to the wall to her front. Behind her was that ladder down from which they had climbed to enter; near which, affixed to the wall, was obviously a clock of sorts… She could hear its ticks and tocks…
“Where are we?” Antica asked…
Novea, walking ahead, gently plopped her large carry-bag onto the ground before turning to Antica who stood attentively behind; “Oh, rightly… This is a…safehouse—or safecellar…basement…actually—ahem, used by…Ravens, or other…Bureau affiliates” thus she said; “A place like this was where I was…usually staying…while in Coastfield”.
“I see…” Antica’s cyanic eyes scanned around… “I may take it, then, that your Bureau has many of these…places…scattered?” Indeed, if Coastfield had such a place, and if this obscure settlement also did, it was logical to extrapolate that the Bureau had dozens more dispersed throughout this continent.
“Probably so, probably not; either or, neither nor” Novea, deliberately ambiguous, so replied.
Antica finally stepped forward, placing her backpack directly next to Novea’s carry-bag; she continued to peer around.
Novea proceeded to softly place the revolving-rifle onto the corner near their belongings before taking off her borrowed ammunition carry-satchel, placing it next in kind. Returning her mask-obscured eyes Antica, “Well, anyway…” she began to speak, “as you may probably tell, these…safe-spots are sound-tight and very discreet… It is just the two of us here, alone, with no possible eyes or ears to breach, making it the perfect private place…for… for… For…” Suddenly, her straightforward voice began to bend and…stagger, freezing… Hidden behind that corvid was quite the abruptly…reddening face.
Indeed, it appeared that the prior gutter-shift in her mind inflicted by Red’s offhanded remark had not been completely undone; by her own accidental lead, her thoughts had drifted astray, almost intrusively so, down an entirely…different contextual direction.
« … » Antica stared blankly, waiting for Novea to…finish her words. “For…?”
“For briefing…” Novea’s clogged breaths finally escaped… “Your briefing… Of course…” Her breathing was elevated, and she was more…sweaty; “Sorry…about that—ahem—it’s rather hot in here, and… Yeah…” Truly, her mind was malfunctioning.
“I see…” Antica simply acknowledged… It was very obvious that such a verbal freeze had little to do with the…admittedly warm…temperature of this immediate space. Though, she could not even begin to surmise what kind of…denizen cognitive-behavioral absurdities were befalling within Novea’s mind.
Novea ahemed quite the ahem; “Well, anyway…” she rebounded…ish, “this is where we typically…prefer to discuss…relevant matters, so… But first, I mean, as I kind of…said, I need to…attend to something else first before any of that…” Her voice was still…rather awkward.
“Hm. And I take it, then, that this ‘something else’ is why we specifically came to this ‘Upperberry’ in truth…or?” Antica simply inquired.
“Hmm… Well, basically…” Novea’s attention peered off in momentary contemplation, before returning to Antica; “Basically, because we had an initial plan—as disclosed to you, our being attached to a United Company resupply and so on—but which…fell apart, and because of all of our…delays—we are a…full week late—, Upperberry is to where…we are to report in the event of…those things—too many things changed, basically…” she thus explained, both answering yet…not necessarily answering Antica’s question.
“I see” Antica simply acknowledged.
Novea exhaled a little; “I guess to say… There is someone stationed here who is also assigned to our…mission, with the…specific job of waiting…in the event we fail to report within the acceptable error margins of our…estimated time of arrival—someone who is far more updated on things and with faster means to be updated… Within these last… fourteen…fifteen days, goodness—ahem…of our travels, a lot of… a lot could have changed regarding our mission, and our original tasks may not even be valid anymore…” she explained further, perhaps more than…necessary.
“Hm. I see” Antica acknowledged; yet her ignited eyes then drifted off as she retreated into her mind…
‘Someone assigned here’, thus was said? Interesting…
She recalled, indeed… The last few hours beforehand, there was an avian of sorts that had been exceptionally active… From the sounds she had heard, this bird frequently came lancing, fly-hopping onto Novea’s shoulder with some kind of…paper evidently affixed, which Novea would…presumably read before writing upon—and Antica had heard the sounds of scribbling… After which, the bird would fly off and away with such presumably reattached.
Initially, Antica had assumed that this was Novea’s corvid; in retrospect, it obviously was not… And although Novea had remained cryptic about those affairs, it was obvious now that she had been likely communicating with this ‘assigned whoever’ well before their arrival to Upperberry.
Though, if so, then… Why were they risking a face-to-face meeting when they could simply…communicate what they needed to via more discreet avian-based written correspondences?
“…Uhm, hello? Nilia?” Novea…spoke, having noticed that Antica was…no longer present despite being…present. Indeed, Antica was standing there static and silent for…perhaps far too many seconds.
“Huh?” Antica snapped out of it, radiant eyes returning attention; “Oh… I give apologies, I was just…thinking” she said, her voice…flat and empty though…perhaps with slight traces of…embarrassment.
“Of course…” Novea sighed; “Anyway, so… it would be…counterproductive to give you…your owed briefing before this…” thus she said; “But in the meantime… Since…you’re not…uhm…”—she paused momentarily— “Yeah, sorry… You have to wait here… You can’t come with me… Sorry…”
“It is understood.” Antica acknowledged, unbothered; “I will wait here, then…”
Novea quickly reapproached that wooden ladder… “Anyway, shouldn’t take long—an hour at most… Sorry again…”
« Éntelliģetùr… » Antica, again, acknowledged…
Without delay, Novea climbed up the ladder and promptly opened a hatch of sorts above before climbing out to the world beyond, the hatch proceeding to close, tightly locking.
Now alone, Antica’s cyanic eyes peered around and about…as she stood statically in place. She sighed…before turning her eyes, sighing again… « Fantasticissimë… » she muttered; utterly fantastic…
Indeed, perhaps she was a little…bothered deep down within…
-||-
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock… Around and around the little hand so ticked and tocked.
Her back was leaned against the wall as she slouched in place, her ignited eyes glued to that clock affixed above…
Interesting device, that primitive clock was… It was obviously Far Western. Though, staring at it had done little to speed the flow of time—quite the opposite, in fact, having slowed time considerably with each tick-tacking tock.
Merely thirty minutes had passed, yet such felt like several hours. Ironic, indeed, that time could be experienced so…slowly for one who had long become so lost by time’s decaying flow…
Antica sighed yet again… This was pointless, this clock-staring…
Her attention finally withdrew from that clock… She scanned about…
Hm. Well, she had time to waste; she might as well check inventory, she supposed. Specifically… Indeed, her eyes drifted immediately to that which she had provided to Novea…
Stepping forth, Antica departed from that wall against which she had been leaning and approached that revolving-rifle.
Hmm… She inspected… Its condition was…acceptable—Novea was clearly no expert in firearm maintenance and cleaning, albeit neither was…Antica, frankly; it could use some extra cleaning, nevertheless.
Her attention then shifted to that ammunition carry-satchel next and near… Antica did not need to open it to know it was considerably emptier.
Truly, these mere two weeks of travel had used up far more shots than Antica had anticipated; than she had prepared for. Discounting those prior instances of combat, the journey to Upperberry had seen occasional run-ins with free-roaming chimeric ‘monsters’, which Novea had opted to quickly deal with via…piercing lead.
Hmm… Well, these cartridges were just…powder, bullet, and oxidized paper compiled with fatty adhesive… Should not be too difficult to replenish; firearms seemed prevalent in this locality, thus the relevant supplies should be too… But the price on the other hand… Ugh… Never before had she needed to factor in ‘value’ and ‘cost’ into resupply requisitions…
Nevertheless, she might as well restock the ammunition carry-satchel with the extra shots…stuffed within her primitive backpack. Thus, she promptly went and grabbed her backpack to do precisely that. Carefully placing it down, she opened it in order to sort through all of the…stuff she had shoved into it.
However, having been the last to be shoved within, the first to be retrieved was that…butterfly masquerade half-mask—still blank and devoid of color… yearning to be made something more. She was going to just place off to the side, yet…instead it remained in her hands; she…simply looked at it, her ignited eyes flat and hollow yet her fingers lightly caressing.
Although she could not comprehend these strange sensations now brewing within, as she stared at this mask—this empty face—her mind’s shadow was granted an opportunity to bleed.
For indeed, once again, she could only wonder… What was she even…doing anymore?
Information, she reminded herself, that was her…rationalization for all of this; she wanted information from them. Though, would they even give it? Would she even find it? And…what information would they even have that she could not just find herself more efficiently? She had the means to…seek what she wanted to find, after all, even if…potentially compromising.
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Yet right… Despite all the questions she had regarding this place, which have only grown since her departure from Coastfield, she was ultimately still…caught in a web. That Calamitous abomination was obviously planning something involving her, which in of itself was indicative of accumulating problems… And she did not want to risk provoking it, especially since its personality was so clearly not what had been presumed prior.
Indeed, even after everything that has happened, the purpose for why she was even here…remained clear and unforgotten… But, for now, these two routes remained one path; all she could was continue walking it forward, wherever it may lead… And right now, in the immediate present, she only had one simple task at hand.
She gently placed her half-mask to the side and sorted through her backpack, preparing to restock that carry-satchel with her remaining munitions.
-||-
Hmm… Antica so peered as she stood in place, attentive and curious.
Ammunition carry-satchel restocked; backpack resorted, repacked, and closed, half-mask having been given the gentlest treatment; she was now free to stare at this…pinned paper-map of sorts which had seemingly piqued her interest…
Primitive and evidently aged, but clear enough and qualitied… Well-sized too. Depicted was a large, circular…kind of, uneven yet uniformish, wrinkly blob of a shape… There was an extending ‘tip’ on its northernmost edge and…a wide ‘bulge’ of sorts protruding from its…east, breaking the otherwise wrinkly blobbish uniformity.
No doubt, this was a cartographic depiction of the Huckleberry Dutchy and its boundaries of control… Settlements were denoted in circles of varied sizes—indicator of relevance, importance, or size, most likely. Similarly colored squiggly lines connecting the dots were also present—roads, most likely.
However, her attention was primarily fixated on this…quite large…shaded region that dominated much of the center; one devoid of any settlements, roads, or any indicators of control… As if a gargantuan sprawling hole, a void, that Huckleberry wrapped around.
Hmm… This was obviously that ‘Great Forest’ the denizens had referenced… And seeing it on this map made it very clear just how…much of the Huckleberry’s dominion was…taken up by that gargantuan forest and its veins. And she could see how it impeded straightforward linear travel, considering that all roads seemed to be going clear around it, sometimes awkwardly so…
Though, she had to wonder why no roads simply paved through that forest… She did not take the denizens here as the ‘nature conservationist’ types, thus…there had to be another reason… Hazards… Dangers… Impracticalities… Indeed, something had to be making the denizens avoid that forest and not pave through…
Truly, she could not help but be most curious.
For indeed…
This locality being her point of arrival to this continent was not due to random selection or chance…
Pre-operational assessment and reconnaissance had indicted this—admittedly entire—region—thus not exclusively Huckleberry—as a point of relevant interest… And, likewise, a peculiarly gargantuan forestry was also…becoming a potential point of relevant interest—among others—during the operation itself, though any detailed survey and root tracing was never completed…due to…
Obvious reasons…
Nevertheless, as she gazed upon this primitive map… She had to wonder, indeed, if whether or not somewhere within all of this depicted noise…was that beating heart of that certain spectating abomination; the source of that…horrendously entangled web of sprawling Calamitous roots that have so thoroughly enstrangled this entire…place.
Hmm… « Mappa… » With such a word in her mind, she glanced at her terminal device…and then back to that… Map…
Indeed, there was one thing she still had yet to fully reconfigure; one thing both practical and convenient, even when…incomplete and limited.
And… Right, she was completely and utterly alone right now, without even the faintest of risks… The perfect place, indeed…
Her attention drifted to that clock behind, eyeing… It was already well passed the—
Yet suddenly, and conveniently: noise.
Antica’s attention abruptly snapped to that hatch above… It was unlocking, opening. Immediately, she withdrew from that map and returned to her former position, standing with attention.
The hatch sprung open, a familiar cloaked figure climbing down, closing it, before simply hopping off and down to the ground.
“I greet you…” Antica greeted, her voice seeming as if she had not been up to anything in particular.
“…hey” Novea greeted as she stood herself up, brushing her cloak. “Sorry for the delay…” she apologized, her voice seeming…lowly and awfully…
“You seem to be…different. Is something wrong?” Antica, noticing, inquired.
Novea…looked at her, though…struggled to maintain any lock; “Oh… Yeah, no, I am... I am fine; it is… It is nothing… Nothing important…” she replied, yet her voice conveyed the opposite.
“Uhuh, I see…” yet Antica acknowledged, even if…unconvinced.
Novea, aheming, quickly refocused her mind. Walking forth and by, she headed straight for that same map pinned to the wall ahead and front. She, quite undiligently, detached it from the wall and placed it onto the center table. She then, quickly after, approached a lamp affixed to the wall, detaching it and placing it onto the center table, the map now better illuminated.
“Alrightly, come here… You are to be briefed, and I’ve come to deliver...” Novea gestured, her voice attempting to seem more…her usual.
Antica, staring, promptly approached Novea and stood next to her; awaiting, her ignited eyes peered down on that very map.
“Alrightly… I do not have any…utensils, and I don’t want to ruin this map—they’re expensive—, but try to follow…” thus Novea spoke. Without delay, she immediately poked her finger onto the map; “This, perhaps obviously, is the Great Huckleberry Dutchy…”—her finger slid to that gargantuan shaded abyss—“And this shaded region is the Great Berry Forest… As you can see, it takes up…a hefty chunk of the dutchy’s dominion… Due to the pacifications, it’s now slightly smaller than depicted, but it remains a darkland of avoidance that none controls by fact even if by law… So, everything centers around it” thus she explained.
“Uhuh.” Antica mumbled in acknowledgement, pretending as though she had not already been staring at this map just moments prior.
Using her fingers, Novea proceeded to demark…imaginarily ‘drawn’ boundaries concentrated in the south and southwest of the unshaded areas; “All of this to the south of the Great Forest…is Elderberry’s alliance”—her finger shifted further south—“Elderberry itself being down here in the southwest corner”. Her fingers then proceeded to quickly demark…new imaginary boundaries concentrated in the east of the unshaded areas; “And all of this over here…is where Grandberry’s loyalists are strongest”—she dragged her finger to the center-east—“Grandberry being right here, at the center of them all…”
“Mhm…” Antica acknowledged, following along; “And everything that is between these two…blobs is a ‘nightmarish mess’, if I heard rightly?”
Novea nodded; “Yeah… Though, I would say more ‘highly contested’… Do not be deceived by my simplified…finger-drawing, the entire great dutchy…is messy; you can find loyalist and alliance exclaves even within their stronghold territories… It’s just most of the ransacking and bloodshed happens in those areas in-between during escalations…” she remarked, before aheming; “Anyway, becoming sidetracked, I just…wanted to…establish all of this first…”
“It is established” Antica simply said.
Novea tapped her finger at a marked dot at that toppest protruding edge of the northeast; “So, this here is the so-called ‘stem’ of the dutchy… since Huckleberry’s dominion…vaguely looks like a berry and this…vaguely looks like the stem…of a berry—ahem, but this is where we are: Upperberry, directly far north of Grandberry…” She proceeded to demark another set of imaginary boundaries, encompassing unshaded areas between Upperberry and Grandberry; “And this area here…between Upperberry and Grandberry…was where the Bureau had narrowed down Blossom’s location, but…that has since moved to…”—her finger slid directly east of Grandberry—“around here, the eastern bulge…”
“Mmhuh…” Antica mumbled… “Elaborate? Best to assume that I know nothing.”
“Rightly, was just about to…” Novea continued forth, ‘redrawing’ the relevant imaginary boundaries; “This area directly east of Grandberry, the eastern bulge…or ‘lump’…since, as you can kind of…see, it’s like a swollen lump of the dutchy—ahem… But it is the safest and most stable area, being deep within loyalist control, farthest from the war, and close to…safer sovereignties” she explained.
“It is understood” Antica acknowledged; “But I take it, then, that you still do not know where she is precisely?”
“Obviously not… But we can rule out that Blossom is nowhere else but the saftest areas, so we have reduced the search radius” Novea answered. “Anyway, now… Blossom’s mother was a prominent maid within the sovereign court of Coastfield, and—her…attendancy to the then-count’s half-brother aside—she would accompany House Coastfield-Sunnycloud on their many…travels… Nobles and sovereigns alike at all levels like to meet and connect, and their servants…tend to do similarly during these occasions… And Blossom’s mother, being a high-standing maid, would have most certainly…gotten to know other prominent servants across many courts and houses throughout her tenure” she explained.
“I see… And you are explaining this because the belief is that Blossom is…with one of these… uhm… ‘homes’ or ‘court’ places?” Antica inquired.
“That is the leading theory, yes…” Novea answered; “Coastfield-Sunnycloud had met with many houses of Huckleberry’s feudality and burgeoning lesser nobility—those noble by blood but are without landed titles and fiefs, just to clarify—ahem, but, so, it is very likely Blossom’s mother has…many connections here because of that. And despite her exile, she was most certainly keeping up with…events, and we have confirmation that Blossom’s father—the then-count’s half-brother—periodically visited, though it’s hard to track since Blossom and her mother moved around a lot…”
Novea paused to catch her breath, resting her throat for a moment.
“Regardless,” she continued on, “our leading theory is that, once word of Coastfield’s bombardment and the shattered succession inevitably reached her mother’s ears, and knowing…what all of this meant for her daughter, she most likely used her…connections within the staff of the nobility…to send Blossom off to a court or noble house for her safety, likely as part of their servant staff and under a false name—likely the color of her hair or eyes—since any court or house knowing who Blossom is…would defeat the point…”
“Mhm…” Antica continued following along.
“And between a court or plain house, we suspect she was sent to a noble house, a lesser noble house specifically, rather than a court, since…the consequences of a realm’s court discovering who Blossom truly is…would be…more unpleasant than…that of a lesser house discovering, even if…only marginally” Novea added.
“I see… Hmm…” Antica, acknowledging, began to cogitate… “And because Blossom is important and is being sought by many with influence and power, then it is logical that, if all of this is true, that she would have been sent to a ‘house’ that is…not important and is obscure… One unassociated with hers and with not the influence to be of noticeable attention, but still protective and…secure?” she…deduced, maybe?
Truly, all of this denizen ‘noble house’ nonsenses were going over her head… All she cared to gather was that Blossom’s location was being narrowed down…
“Huh… Yeah, essentially so…” Novea replied, her affect still attempting to be more her usual; “You continue to impress…”
« Mah » Antica’s voice bluntly shrugged; “I am not that impressive”.
“Hm…” Novea mumbled, before aheming; “Anyway, that’s…the direction we’re leaning… That Blossom is, or is in the process of becoming, a part of the staff of a presumably lesser noble house that is not of noteworthy status but still influential enough to have had…some contact with Coastfield-Sunnycloud, but nothing enduring or intimate as to be obvious, but enough that…her mother could have made connections to levy…” thus she explained; “Though, that still leaves many…potential candidates…”
“Hmm…” Antica cogitated; “What about her mother? Is she being searched for also?” Indeed, finding her mother could…potentially yield Blossom’s precise location.
“…well, I’ll just say… Her mother’s good at being illusive, and finding people is not easy, especially a woman who avoids non-rural towns like pestilence… Even if we did find her, she’s a, well, protective mother—her tongue would be the most tightly sealed of them all. And she’s most certainly as farthest away from Blossom as possible to avoid compromising her by proximity” Novea explained.
“I see… So, then, what is the plan?” Antica inquired.
“Similar to before, besides a slight change…”—her finger pointed to Grandberry—“We are…now avoiding Grandberry, and we are to head straightly for…”—her finger slid east to the eastern bulge’s north—“here, Strawberry County in the eastern bulge…”
Antica stared… That was hardly a ‘slight’ change. “Why?” she immediately asked; “I thought… Were we not supposed to help with the problems that they were having? Those…missing receptionists…” Indeed, she had by no means forgotten about that…other still unsolved mystery…lingering deep within.
“There are reasons…” Novea answeringly did not answer; “And I told you before…that issue is not our priority, and it is…being handled…” she stated; “You… We…are only here for one reason; remember that…”
« …obvíamente… » Right…obviously… “It is understood… Is there anything more?”
“That’s the big painting, albeit summarized… Anything more can be brought up later… I will brief you again in Strawberry…” Novea replied, yet then…her mask-obscured eyes drifted away… Deliberating… “Also… Uhm… Despite what I said earlier… You are not to…talk to, associate with, or otherwise become…close…with those two adventurers” thus she so added.
« … » Antica merely stared, blankly… Of course…
Novea paused, deliberating even more… “Furthermore… You are not, under any circumstances throughout the remainder of this…mission, to engage in any combat whatsoever…unless I explicitly deem it necessary.”
Now this…instantly caused Antica to snappingly tilt her head; « Quid nefas? » she blurted immediately; “Why? Now I must ask, why all of this…these…”
“Reasons, Antica, because reasons” Novea so interrupted; “There is no arguing this… This is what you have to do, Antica, and that is final. You need to keep yourself absolutely discreet.”
Antica was not planning on contesting; she recognized the futility… “…it is…understood…”
“We do have two capable adventurers accompanying us, remember that…” Novea added, trying to…reassure. “Anyway, that’s that then… Let’s recollect our things and start moving again” she thus said.
“Following you…” Antica…acknowledged…
Although this ‘briefing’ had clarified aspects regarding this mission of theirs, Antica was nevertheless now left with…more questions unasked demanding answers unfound.