Silas sat in the dimly lit room at the Merry Minstrel Lodge, his fingers tracing the edges of the sealed container holding the Bloodmoon Thorn—or rather, what was supposed to be the Bloodmoon Thorn. The air in the room felt heavy with the aroma of potions and herbs. Silas's mind buzzed with thoughts, each one more troubling to him than the last.
Nyx squawked loudly to catch Silas's attention. The portly crow's feathers ruffled in agitation.
"Calm down," Silas muttered, his voice carrying an unusual softness given his typically harsh demeanor. He rolled the container between his fingers before setting it on the table. "We have a problem."
Nyx's beady eye twitched. He flapped his wings once, twice, a silent demand for explanation.
"It's not your fault," Silas continued, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Anyone else would have been fooled. This herb here—it's another Ambitious Mimic."
Nyx squawked indignantly, hopping from the table to perch on Silas's shoulder where he peered at the container with a mix of anger and curiosity.
Silas leaned back in his chair, still under his disguise, and sighed. "The Rats gave me good information a few weeks back when I bought the details about sightings and sales of Bloodmoon Thorns," he said more to himself than to Nyx.
The crow tilted his head, watching Silas intently as if urging him to elaborate.
Silas's eyes narrowed as he replayed events in his mind. "The original intel we got said that a thorn was known to be with an Artificer called Selen," he began slowly. "And that there was a thorn going to be sold in Rhysling."
Nyx squawked again, this time with an edge of impatience.
"Yes, yes," Silas waved a hand dismissively. "But considering what I've gathered today—about Selen specifically—something doesn't add up." He rubbed his temples before leaning forward, eyes locking onto Nyx's.
"They gave us correct information but I drew the wrong conclusion," Silas said, almost to himself as he processed everything. "The real Bloodmoon Thorn might still be out there, but it's not necessarily tied to Selen in Rhysling as we thought."
Nyx hopped closer, nudging Silas's hand with his beak as if offering comfort or perhaps urging him to take action.
Silas patted Nyx on the head absentmindedly. "We'll need to dig deeper," he mused aloud. "Figure out just what exactly is going on here."
The crow nodded once, understanding perfectly.
Silas took a deep breath and looked at Nyx. "We have more work to do for this herb, hand me the journals" he said simply.
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The echo of clanging metal and arcane alarms still reverberated through the corridors of Castle Rhysling as the Magistrate and Selen walked with determined strides towards her room. The Magistrate's face, a mask of concern, glanced sideways at Selen whose piercing blue eyes were filled with barely contained fury.
"It seems whoever caused this ruckus was targeting you specifically," the Magistrate began, his voice measured. "The most significant damage was in your quarters, after all."
Selen's jaw tightened, her calloused hands clenched at her sides. "I had some very prized possessions in that room. If my Bloodmoon Thorn is missing or destroyed under your guards' watch, you'll be compensating me for the full price I would have gotten at auction!"
The Magistrate sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. "Need I remind you that it was your defense systems that failed to stop the intruder?" His tone held a hint of reproach.
Selen shot him a sharp glare. "And need I remind you that those same defense systems were still in the process of being tuned? If anything, this incident proves they were necessary you bloody idiot!"
The Magistrate shook his head slightly but softened his tone. "Rhysling will not let its honored guest be harmed or her possessions stolen. If the herb is indeed missing, we'll figure out a compensation."
Selen's stern expression broke into one of elation at his words. "Well then, let's see if my money ticket is still intact!" she said with a hint of optimism creeping into her voice.
As they approached Selen’s quarters, the destruction became more evident—scorched walls, splintered wood, and scattered magical components. The Magistrate motioned for the guards to stay back as he and Selen stepped into what remained of her room.
Their eyes immediately fell on the container amidst the wreckage. Miraculously untouched by the chaos around it, it lay there as if mocking their concerns.
Selen's eyes widened with joy as she rushed to it. "The Bloodmoon Thorn!" she exclaimed, her voice a mix of relief and joy. "It's still here!"
The Magistrate heaved a sigh of relief, his shoulders visibly relaxing. "Well, it seems our intruder missed what he was looking for after all…" he muttered under his breath.
"Indeed," Selen grinned widely, cradling the container like a precious child.
Turning to the staff gathered nervously outside, the Magistrate barked orders for them to prepare another room for Selen. They responded eagerly, assuring him that a room was already prepared and beckoning them to follow.
The walk to Selen's new quarters was filled with light banter between her and the Magistrate, their earlier tension easing with every step. As they arrived at the door and stepped inside, however, both froze in their tracks.
Before them stood three maids in varying states of undress, tangled together in a compromising position that left little to the imagination. Their shocked expressions mirrored those of their unexpected audience.
The Magistrate’s face turned beet red before he coughed violently, struggling to regain composure while nearly spitting out blood from sheer mortification.
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Selen’s reaction was immediate; she threw her head back and laughed uproariously. The sound echoed down the hallway as tears of mirth glistened in her eyes.
"Well," she gasped between laughs, "this certainly isn't what I expected!"
The maids scrambled to untangle themselves, however due to the adhesive Nyx bombed them with they quite literally could not, meanwhile the staff outside peeked curiously inside.
The Magistrate pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "Let's... find you another room… and kindly never mention this again,'' he finally said.
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The bustling of guards and the resetting of defense systems had died down, leaving a tense calm in the castle's guest wing. Selen then finally settled into her new accommodations, ones free of maids in the middle of a threesome.
Inside her room, she flopped onto the plush bed with an audible sigh. She stared at the container holding what she believed to be her ''Bloodmoon Thorn'', her mind clearly a mess of thoughts. Her lips moved in a semi-silent monologue, a habit of hers.
"This has gotten out of hand," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper but clear in the stillness of the room. "I don’t want to get hurt in this ass end of The Empire."
Her eyes grew distant as she recalled her lost journals. Those journals were more than mere logs—they were companions during long, solitary nights.
In a sudden burst of frustration, she grabbed the Mimic and hurled it across the room. The container hit the wall with a dull thud before rolling to a stop on the floor, unharmed but showing what she truly thought of the contents inside.
Selen exhaled deeply and began recounting her plans aloud, perhaps to ground herself. "Auction in two days," she said, counting off on her fingers. "Payout, get as far away from here as I can… then indulge in whatever pleasures I can think off..."
She stared at her hand for a moment, ticking off each step. "At least four days of leeway before the real problems come knocking…"
Selen lay sprawled on her bed, eyes tracing the patterns on the ceiling as her mind whirred with thoughts. She clenched her jaw, feeling the frustration bubble within her. She knew she had to throw a fit tomorrow, show everyone her outrage at being targeted so blatantly.
"Who can I pin this on?" she murmured to herself, tapping her fingers rhythmically against the bedspread. Her thoughts shifted to the people she had interacted with recently, sifting through potential attackers.
An image of the good-natured gentleman Ji surfaced in her mind. She recalled his calm demeanor, the almost eerie ease with which he stopped pushing for the Thorn. A sly grin tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Mr. Handsome may actually be behind it," she whispered to herself, savoring the thought. There’s no Alchemist worth a damn who would just give up after one question about a herb like the Thorn.
She pushed herself off the bed and padded over to the mirror, inspecting her reflection with critical eyes. Her hands patted her chest and then her buttocks, assessing her assets with a frown.
"Not enough here to disregard the Thorn’s value over…" she muttered, shaking her head slightly.
Selen’s mind raced through various scenarios as she pondered over her next steps. And that would most likely mean another visit to Arim after sunrise.
She glanced at herself in the mirror one last time before turning away. "Senior Ji and I will have to have a date, it seems," she said with a sly smile.
Satisfied with her plan for now, Selen lay back down on the bed, closing her eyes and allowing herself a moment of rest before the dawn brought new opportunities.
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The first rays of dawn seeped through the heavy curtains of Silas’s room, casting a muted glow on the cluttered table. Silas, eyes weary, closed the last of Selen’s journals with a decisive snap. His lips twisted into a sardonic grin as he stretched out the pronunciation, "Selen," drawing it out as if mocking its very essence.
Nyx, perched on the back of a chair, cocked his head and squawked, a clear inquiry in his beady eyes.
Silas leaned back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. "A decent talent on our hands, Nyx," he said, amusement lacing his raspy voice. "But I'd rather confirm it first."
Nyx ruffled his feathers, an impatient flutter as if demanding more details.
Silas chuckled darkly. "If my deductions about her nature are correct," he began, pausing to savor the thought, "we should soon receive a call from Arim." He leaned forward, eyes shining with calculation. "For now," he continued, pushing himself up from the chair with deliberate slowness, "let's take a walk through the city and wait."
The streets of Rhysling were just waking up, merchants setting up their stalls and early risers bustling about their morning routines. Silas moved with among them peacefully, Nyx perched dutifully on his shoulder.
They wandered aimlessly at first, Silas's keen eyes taking in every detail of the city's morning life. The murmurs of the crowd began to reach his ears—a mix of fear and fascination.
"Did you hear about the attack inside the park?"
"Aye, terrible murder recently. Some say it was a crow that took the man's life."
Silas threw a side-eye glance at Nyx. The crow merely shrugged with his wings in a gesture that could only be described as nonchalant.
Time slipped by in measured steps as they continued their stroll through Rhysling’s vibrant streets.
Just as Silas began to ponder another turn down an alleyway or perhaps into a more secluded part of town, he noticed a young messenger weaving through the crowd with urgency filling every step. The boy’s eyes darted around until they locked onto Silas’s form.
The messenger skidded to a halt before him, panting heavily. "Senior Ji," he gasped between breaths. "Guildmaster Arim requests your immediate presence."
Silas nodded curtly, acknowledging the boy's message without a word. He turned on his heel and began walking towards the Alchemist’s Guild, Nyx still perched on his shoulder.
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Arim’s office brimmed with the scent of rare herbs and alchemical brews. Selen stood by the window, applying a touch of potent perfume that Arim had provided. The golden sunlight filtering through the panes highlighted her silver hair, now tied back in a practical knot.
She adjusted her collar and glanced over at Arim. “I apologize for my less than pleasant odor,” she began, her voice tinged with annoyance. “The castle was a nightmare this morning. At breakfast, everyone—everyone, including the Magistrate himself—was struck with the most vile case of explosive diarrhea.”
Arim winced at her bluntness, though he couldn’t hide his curiosity. “And you?”
“Luckily,” she replied with a grim smile, “I didn’t attend the breakfast. But navigating through that hellish sight? Let’s just say I needed something strong to mask the stench.”
Arim coughed and waved his hand dismissively, shifting gears. “Let us move on from that... unsavory topic.” His tone turned serious as he looked directly into her piercing blue eyes. “The accusation you’ve brought today about Senior Ji is very dangerous if proven wrong.”
Selen folded her arms and met his gaze unflinchingly. “He is the only one who aroused my suspicion,” she insisted. “If he’s innocent and still within the city, he should have no problem explaining himself to a humble Artificer like me.”
A sly smile tugged at her lips as she added, "And if I'm wrong about him, I’ll more than make it up to him." She gave Arim a suggestive wink.
Arim breathed deeply, his eyes steel. “You must hold Senior Ji in higher esteem for everyone’s sake,” he said firmly.
Selen shifted uncomfortably under his intensified gaze, pondering the exact implications of his words.
The door suddenly swung open with a creak that seemed louder than usual in the tense atmosphere. Silas entered the room calmly with a pleasant smile.
“Greetings,” Silas began smoothly, acknowledging both of them with a slight nod. “Apologies for consuming so much of your time these past couple of days, Arim.”
Arim nodded quickly and said it is no trouble, unease on his face.
Silas then turned his attention to Selen. "Would you indulge me by accompanying me to a nearby bar? I believe it might be more appropriate for discussing whatever concerns you have with me in a more private setting."
Selen hesitated briefly before nodding. "Perhaps…" she agreed, offering a polite farewell to Arim as she moved towards Silas.
Arim watched them leave, suppressing the urge to yell out loud what echoed in his mind: "That woman will be the death of Rhysling..."