At the break of dawn, Rosen awoke.

As one's magic grows stronger, so too does the vigor of one's spirit. Despite having only gone to sleep at three in the morning, Rosen arose refreshed and alert.

He had pondered many possibilities during the night, yet he still lacked substantial evidence.

To uncover the truth, he would need to investigate in person.

After washing up, Rosen went downstairs seeking breakfast from Harrik.

As he enjoyed the delicious morning meal, Rosen inquired, "Where is Uncle Shabolai? Still not up yet?"

Harrik was mopping the floor and let out a sigh. "He left early, saying he was going to assist the Wizard's Guild in apprehending Miss Sellandis. He swore not to rest until they've caught her."

Rosen hurriedly asked, "He went alone?"

"No, that pretty boy Olleric went with him. Those two have been inseparable lately," Harrik replied, a hint of resentment in his tone toward Olleric.

Rosen's mind stirred and he grinned, "Uncle, don't tell me you're jealous of Olleric?"

"Bah!" Harrik scowled. "Me, jealous of him? I've got way more masculinity than that pansy."

"Then why do you seem unhappy?"

Rosen had not expected Harrik's expression to become serious.

"Let me tell you, Rosen, I've run this inn for 10 years. I can read people damn well, and no matter how someone tries to disguise themselves, nothing gets past these eyes."

"There's something not right about that Olleric. He might look proper enough, but I can tell he's got issues, big issues! Shabolai keeping company with the likes of him is bound to end badly!"

Rosen chuckled, "What trouble could Uncle possibly get into? Even if they take a roll in the hay, it'd be Uncle having all the fun."

Harrik stared blankly for a moment before bursting into loud laughter. It was some time before he composed himself again.

"I'm being serious here, Rosen. Don't distract me."

He glanced left and right, as if to check for eavesdroppers, then lowered his voice. "Let me tell you, Olleric's been staying on the second floor, right?"

"Yeah, that's right," Rosen nodded. He too knew Olleric had been residing at the Hound's Rest for over a week now, because Shabolai had said there were extra rooms available.

"Well, the other afternoon, I was bringing a painting down from the third floor and happened to pass by Olleric's room. His door was open, so I took a peek inside. Guess what I saw?"

"What'd you see?" Rosen played along.

Harrik's voice dropped even lower. "I saw him posing in front of the mirror. Not like a man checking himself, but prancing and preening like a woman."

"Good lord! What kind of man primps in front of a mirror like that? He must have something wrong in the head!"

"Hmm... I suppose that is a bit much," Rosen had to agree it seemed odd, but ultimately it was a personal habit. Perhaps Olleric thought himself handsome and became self-absorbed.

For a moment though, he wondered if the man could be cross-dressing, but quickly dismissed the notion.

Olleric was handsome, but built like a bear with a booming voice and the distinct musk of a bachelor about him. There wasn't a hint of feminine delicacy.

What kind of woman could disguise herself so convincingly?

Then another thought struck him. "This guy enjoys Uncle's company so much, could he be romantically interested in men?"

"Thinking too much. In any case, he's dangerous and secretive. We best be wary of him."

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Having finished eating, Rosen stood to take his leave.

"I'm feeling uneasy, Uncle. I don't feel like painting today. I'm going to head out for a walk to clear my head."

Harrik assumed the matter with Sellandis had upset Rosen greatly. "Go on then, anyone would feel rotten about this whole mess. A stroll will do you good."

"I'll go upstairs to fetch some money first."

With Olleric gone, Rosen now felt at ease walking up to his room door.

He scrutinized the wooden door, inspecting the handle area in particular, before turning back to ascend to the third floor.

Once in his room, he immediately opened his adventure log to check for fingerprints.

To his shock, there were none!

"How can there be no prints?"

By now he was certain normal people in this world had fingerprints, and few paid them much mind.

"Could Uncle Harrik have wiped them clean?"

Harrik was fastidious, couldn't stand the slightest speck of dust, and was constantly cleaning whenever he had time. It was very possible he had wiped the prints away.

Unable to obtain Olleric's prints for the moment, Rosen decided not to dwell on it and seek another angle of approach.

"Maborri Preservative Fluid."

Sellandis had shown him an alchemy book, so Rosen knew this was a specialized alchemical concoction that required an adept alchemist to formulate.

There were few experts of such caliber in Silvermoon City, and each was renowned by name.

If he could determine who had recently purchased large quantities of Maborri fluid, it would provide a trail to follow.

But where to find such an expert?

That was simple enough.

Rosen briskly walked to the southern city market, soon locating an herbalist shop named 'Vibrant Vigor'.

As luck would have it, he had painted portraits of both the owner and shophand, who greeted Rosen as he entered.

Rosen returned the greeting, then inquired, "Is Mr. Homersin in today?"

"I'm right here," came the reply from behind the counter.

Rosen approached with a smile. "Mr. Homersin, I was hoping to buy some bottles of Dragonfire Liquor. Do you have any in stock?"

Dragonfire Liquor, a specialized solvent used for brewing mage potions, required expertise on par with Maborri fluid to make. Anyone able to concoct one likely could handle the other.

Homersin shrugged. "That's too high tier for an herbalist like me. You'll have to find a proper alchemist for that."

Rosen sighed. "That's just the trouble, I can't seem to find one. As you know, my former mentor... well, with what happened, I thought to ask if you knew where I could look."

Homersin sighed sympathetically, then jotted down an address and name, passing it to Rosen. "There's only one alchemist living in this part of the southern city. See if he has any supplies."

Rosen profusely thanked him. "I appreciate the information greatly, Mr. Homersin. When I have time, I will paint a family portrait for you."

"Ah, I look forward to that!" Homersin seemed delighted. Commissioning a family portrait was quite a luxury nowadays, typically only affordable by nobles.

Rosen smiled. "Don't worry, I'll come by when I'm free."

With a parting wave, he left the herbalist's and followed the address.

'36 Sweetwater Lane, bit of a distance and not too familiar with the area, but shouldn't be hard to find.'

After winding through alleys for some time, over half an hour later, he finally arrived.

It was a distinct wooden house with a sizable yard. Many unknown plants grew in the yard, with special warm houses and rain covers erected in places.

The yard gate was closed. As Rosen approached to knock, he noticed a wooden sign hanging by the entrance.

Scrawled in charcoal were the words: "Owner away procuring materials, return date uncertain. Sincerest apologies for any urgent business delayed."

"Not home? What a coincidence..."

Observing the lush greenery flourishing in the yard, this didn't seem the home of one who traveled often.

Otherwise these plants would wither from neglect during rain or snow, like the light drizzle mixed with flakes coming down presently.

Rosen looked closer at the writing on the sign. "Very sloppy penmanship. The sign is barely wet from rain, must have just been put up. So he left recently? No, something's not right!"

"Education is expensive nowadays, scholars and academics tend to have fine handwriting. A renowned alchemist's would not be this poor."

A disturbing notion dawned on him, his heart pounding. "Don't tell me he's been silenced?"

Had someone been eliminated just as he began investigating? How dangerous was this?

Fortunately the alley remained busy, with patrolling soldiers passing occasionally.

One squad was approaching presently.

Rosen hurriedly stepped in their path to block the way.

The lead soldier glared sharply. "Looking to die, boy?!"

Rosen discreetly slipped four silvers from his pocket, subtly pressing them into the man's hand.

"Sir, I'm Shabolai Omicheus's nephew, a top ranked knight. I'd like to ask a small favor."

Money and status combined had an immediate softening effect on the captain's attitude.

"Oh, Master Shabolai's nephew. What can I do for you?"

Rosen explained his analysis concisely, then gestured to the yard gate. "I came to buy some solvents, but this situation makes me suspect foul play. Please, could you open the door and check inside?"

The captain now looked troubled.

"Er... Stan is a respected alchemist. It wouldn't do to force entry if he's away..."

Rosen's mind stirred, and a lovely gold krone quietly joined the silvers in the captain's pocket.

"I'll take full responsibility, sir. Any damages incurred, I'll provide compensation."

"I'm Sir Shabolai's nephew. Even if I can't cover it, my uncle certainly can."

The captain slid his fingers over the pocket, savoring the substantial weight of the krone.

That alone equaled half a month's wages. His wife had been hankering for a new pair of earrings. This coin would let him please her and avoid the dead fish eyes when he got home.

Retrieving the silver krones, he split them evenly between his two men. "What are you waiting for? Break it down!"

"Yes captain!"

The soldiers kicked the yard gate open, then the house door.

The instant it swung open, a faint metallic odor of blood wafted out.