As the sun rose that morning, casting a warm golden light across the landscape, I felt a heavy weight settle in my chest. My task loomed before me like a dark cloud on the horizon: I had to find Sybil’s body. The thought of her remains, possibly mangled and torn, sent a shiver down my spine. I had heard of magics that could identify corpses, but I knew the Council would scoff at the idea that a mere pile of bones could ever represent our dear friend, even if the arcane arts could substantiate such a claim.
With a deep breath, I resolved to start my search at Sybil’s home, hoping against hope that Crimson might have left behind some clue—something, anything, to guide me through this haze of despair. I wasn't particularly optimistic, but it was a beginning, and I clung to that.
After a long moment of contemplating the day ahead, I swung my legs over the side of the bed and planted my feet on the cool wooden floor. The chill of the morning air prickled against my skin as I moved to the bathroom, where I ran hot water over my body. The steam enveloped me, waking my muscles and sharpening my focus. I dressed quickly in my uniform, the familiar fabric hugging me like a second skin, before gathering my equipment—an assortment of potions, charms, and my trusty dagger, a token of my past battles.
I made my way to the kitchen where Maria was already waiting. The rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of the chocolate chip muffin she held in her hand, a small comfort in the midst of our chaotic lives.
“Got the spells prepared for today?” she asked, her eyes bright with a mix of eagerness and concern. I could sense the hope radiating from her, a desperate wish that we might finally overcome this hurdle and find peace for Sybil.
“Mhm… I got Locate Creature, Soul Tracker, and Locate Objects prepared,” I replied, my voice steady but my heart racing.
“Why Locate Objects?” she inquired, tilting her head slightly, curiosity dancing in her eyes.
“She always wore that golden rose brooch, handed down through her family. Maybe I could track it?” I explained, recalling the last time I had seen Sybil—her laughter ringing like music in the air, the brooch gleaming in the sunlight. Crimson hadn’t been wearing it when we last confronted him, and that fact gnawed at me.
“Fair point,” Maria nodded thoughtfully. “We haven’t seen it in a year.” A year since Sybil’s disappearance, and the weight of guilt pressed heavily on my shoulders.
The silence between us thickened as I wrestled with my regrets. “Theo, it isn’t your fault,” Maria’s voice broke through my brooding thoughts. She rose from her dark oak chair, which matched the dining table, and wrapped her arms around me in a comforting embrace. “Neither of us had a clue,” she whispered softly. “In our defense, a lot was happening back then to notice.”
I nodded, fully aware that her parents’ passing had cast a shadow over her life, consuming her thoughts and emotions. “I’m going to stop by Pari’s today to see if she has a scroll called Speak with Spirit,” I said, my mind already racing ahead. That spell, specific to the Fey wild, could summon the spirit of the deceased. Maria had used it once to communicate with her parents after they passed, and it had brought her a measure of closure.
“I think that would be wise…” she replied, though I could sense the hesitation in her voice, the unspoken fear that came with delving into such dark waters.
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“I’ll get two if she has them. I know you miss them,” I added, giving her a reassuring smile that felt too bright against the backdrop of our shared sorrow.
Her soft smile in return lit up her face, and I leaned down to give her a gentle squeeze, followed by a kiss on the lips. I grabbed a plate of food and devoured it quickly, the bacon crisp and savory, grounding me in the present moment.
“What should I do today?” Maria asked as I finished my last bite, her expression shifting from concern to determination.
“Meet with Tracker, the werewolf. See if he can sniff her out while I search. Maybe try to talk to Crimson, but use your words carefully.” I advised, my voice steadying with purpose.
She nodded, her brow furrowing slightly. “Be careful. It wouldn’t surprise me if Crimson has Sybil’s body trapped.”
I agreed with a solemn nod and stood up, placing my plate in the sink. Before I left the kitchen, I leaned down to kiss her forehead, a silent promise to return.
On my way to Pari’s shop, I stopped by my office to check on the reports from the night shift guards. The usual disturbances were noted—poisonings, skirmishes in the streets—but nothing that immediately caught my attention. I dismissed the poisonings as the work of Marcel’s minions, a persistent threat that I planned to track alongside Sybil’s body.
“Alright…” I murmured as I left my office, locking the door behind me. “Pari’s store.” The air was warm and breezy as I made my way, the wind teasing at the crevices of my dragon armor. The streets were beginning to come alive as the sun climbed higher, casting long shadows over the cobblestones. It was remarkable how the world seemed to awaken in a normal rhythm, while underneath, chaos brewed and threatened to spill over.
As I approached Pari’s shop, a sense of calm washed over me. The wooden door creaked open, and a small bell chimed, announcing my arrival.
“One moment!” Pari’s high-pitched, ethereal voice floated from the back room, a melodic sound that felt familiar and comforting.
I made my way to the counter, anticipation bubbling within me. “Ah! Captain! It’s nice to see you again!” she exclaimed as she flitted towards me, her iridescent wings catching the light and scattering it like prisms.
“Good to see you too,” I replied, offering her a gentle smile in return.
“What can I do for ya?” she asked, her bright eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“What are the chances that you have two scrolls of Speak with Spirit?” I asked, urgency creeping into my voice.
“Hmmm… let me check in the back.” She fluttered away, and I could hear the sound of boxes shifting and clattering as she rummaged through her stock.
After a few moments filled with the sounds of her chaotic search, she returned, triumphantly holding two scrolls. “You’re in luck! I have two left. I thought the Princess might need them, so I placed an order with my seller a while back.”
“Thank you. How much?” I inquired, knowing full well that rare magic came with a price.
“10,000 gold per scroll. You know these are hard to get,” she replied, her tone matter-of-fact.
I nodded, feeling the pinch of the steep price but recognizing the value of the scrolls. “Can I come back and pay later?”
“Of course! I’ll put them on your tab,” she said with a smile, her kindness a balm to my troubled spirit.
“Thank you. I’ll be back later.” I took the rolled-up parchment, tucking one scroll safely into my bag of holding, and left the shop, the weight of my mission pressing down on me.
Back in my office, I closed the door behind me, sealing off the outside world for a moment. I approached my large desk and unfurled one of the scrolls, feeling the ancient paper’s texture beneath my fingers. I began to read the incantation, focusing my energy and intent. As the words flowed from my lips, I felt a strange sensation wash over me, ethereal and chilling. The colors of the world around me dulled, the vibrant hues fading into shadow as the air grew cold and heavy.
And then, in a shroud of mist, a ghostly figure materialized before me. With a voice that echoed with pain and longing, Sybil spoke, “Help me…” Her words hung in the air, a desperate plea that sent a jolt of urgency through me.