Through a dimly lit corridor, two men in thick, ashen leather robes. Their footsteps echo through the long tunnel. Masking their faces using a thick bronze mask. In front of them was a floating unconscious man chained by a magical rope. There were no wounds, no blood coming from that man, and from the looks, he was a noble figure from his clothing.
"Finally, this old bastard was caught." One of the cultists scoffs.
"If it weren't for that man, we wouldn't have another change of plans." The other replied, tightening the chains.
"What the fuck are you doing?" The man slaps his hand. "You want us to be killed by that man."
"I'm just having a tease, that's all, my blood boils from catching this elusive man. I just hope he didn't alarm the temples and his associates."
"Not to worry, our leader placed a doppelganger on his behalf; they wouldn't know the difference."
"A doppelganger? Would Adra's eye see through that?"
"No, that was a soul doppelganger. That will give the tricks."
"Good, that man had better give us a pouch full of coins."
The two continue, fading to the shadows of the corridors where the torches' light can't reach.
Night takes its turn across the guild library halls of the adventurers' guild. In one of the great halls of libraries, books, parchments, and scrolls were torn open. Scanning page by page, paper by paper. A person wearing glasses was in her studies, two dangling orbs situated on both sides of the table. Books and parchments lay waste on the table. There was no food to be seen, only a hot coffee, and from the stained porcelain, it was her fifth coffee.
Through her immersive research, Ashalain lost track of time; she didn't even feel the touch of hunger rumbling through her stomach.
"This is so frustrating!" The paladin pauses, removing her glasses for a short eye massage. "Haa… if only I had the necessities to enter the Endless Shelves." Ashalain sighs heavily as she leans in to surrender.
"Why can't I find you?" She murmurs.
She turns her head towards a specific piece of jewellery on the table. It was a pendant, and on that pendant were two magical rings. Clutching the pendant, she raises it for her to stare.
"If only I had given you earlier before that time." Her fingers fiddling with the two rings.
Taking a little of her time, she trifles with the ring as she laments her past. A footstep can be heard through the other side of the room. The door creaks open, and Mishel came to visit, with her was a tray of food levitating. Three orbs can be seen dangling and orbiting following the movement of her eyes.
Hurriedly pocketing the pendant, the paladin quickly hides her emotions, from sombre to a tired face.
"I've brought you food, you hungry?" Mishel said.
"You don't need to bring me food; you are not a servant."
"I'm your friend, you old hag." Mishel coldly replied.
Using her magic, the parchments and books that litter the table hover through the air. Through a sharp eye, Mishel noticed the books were those of paladins and knights' books, and histories of cults from the past. From that single glance, she already knows what her friend was searching for.
"Fill your rumbling stomach first; the night is long." Said Mishel, placing the tray using telekinetic magic.
"Thank you-thank you." The paladin's hand clasp in prayer.
"Just eat, you old woman." Bonking her staff on the paladin's head.
In only fifteen minutes of her dining, the food that needed four people to empty was completely devoured. As for Mishel, she was already aware of her natural characteristics.
"Oh, I'm stuffed!" Ashalain groans, leaning back in her chair.
"This old woman." Mishel gave her friend a disapproving look.
Searching for a comfortable chair, Mishel, with a point of her finger, lifts one of the chairs sitting on an isolated shelf. And with little to no effort, she transports it, facing Ashalain.
Taking one parchment and a single look at what the document holds, Mishel quickly returns. She was averse to such cults, and those abyssal things, nor the nether realm.
"I'm a bit curious what happened to that man you have been chasing from those past days?" Mishel initiates.
Ashalain unveils her eyes, though she would avoid Mishel's gaze.
"Don't worry, I won't tell Sir Garrick. It's pretty pitiful having your ass being chewed by Sir Garrick many times."
Ashalain sniggered, a chuckle of embarrassment.
"He's gone, escaped like a coward."
"Hmm, but from your dedicated shadowing of him, I think you might have quite a care for that young traveller."
"He's no concern of mine, not even the slightest."
"Liar." Mishel gave a smug look.
"What—" Ashalain turns her head to Mishel's location, and was embarrassed that Mishel, using her index finger, was fiddling with a truth-seeking orb.
"They say, paladins are not to be trusted when they lie."
"Well, only slightly."
Corrected— the dark spot from the Eye of Adra quickly expands.
"Ugh, fine… I tell you, but you need to keep this a secret." Ashalain answered, massaging her forehead.
"I hope it would be an interesting one, if it's not, you're going to sing me a lullaby."
"You do know about The Void of Inagang?"
"Yes, I know that very well, a bag that holds without being full. Don't tell me that man carries one."
"Yes, he does carry one."
"Liar."
"I'm telling the truth." Ashalain, using her gaze to signal Mishel to look at the crystal orb.
True enough, Mishel stares at the orb; it doesn't leave a dark spot; instead, it quickly returns to its original clear white colour.
"W-why didn't you say that in the beginning. He could have been a spy, or a who-knows-a descendant of evil." Mishel stammer.
"He's not a spy, nor is he some demon in the abyss. I did suspect he's a veilmage, but he's not."
"So, he is a normal human then?"
"Yes, a man who couldn't even develop magic."
"Hmm… but it intrigues me, you used to tell Sir Garrick what you've found. Don't tell me you're going to use him?" Mishel again rolls the orb left and right using her fingers.
"No, why would I?" And quickly, a dark spot emerges from the orb. "Ugh, fine… I was going to ask him something about the Endless Shelf and how to enter it. But my emotions got carried away, so I forgot to ask if he might know something about how to enter that realm."
"As expected from you." Mishel leans back on her chair.
No subject to discuss, Ashalain fixes her glasses and continues her research. Suddenly, Mishel was rummaging through her satchel.
"Oh, I almost forgot." Mishel then extended a letter towards the paladin. "I think it must be from your father."
Ashalain looks at the seal; it's their family seal. She paused for a moment, intently analysing the letter.
"You're not going to open it?"
"I'll open it once I'm done with this." Ashalain set aside the letter.
The night continues, and Mishel lies sleeping on the table. Ashalain slowly opens the letter; to her surprise, it isn't from her father but rather from someone at the estate.
"Dear Lady Ashalain,
"It has come to my knowledge that I have been silently observing Lord Ariendal de Shilvia for more than three days now, for I have noticed that your father's actions have changed. And I fear, and hope that I am mistaken, that my Lord Ariendal seems to be different or rather not to himself."
"I have not sent letters to your sister, fearing it might endanger her. Perhaps it would be best that you take your visit to your father's estate if you have time, Lady Ashalain."
Best wishes;
Watson Hill Butler to Lord Ariendal
It was short, but the moment she finished the letter, her eyes turned grave. She sighs heavily as she rubs her face. Looking at her friend sleeping like a grave, Ashalain, without any effort, lifts Mishel, and silently they exit the great hall of libraries. And once they take their departure, the books and parchments levitate through the air, swiftly, and then they shelve themselves to their designated places.
Morning came— the paladin walks through the bustling road. Wearing her paladin armour, she strolls through the teleportation terminal.
"Stone or Scroll?" The receptionist asks.
"Stone if you would."
"To where?" The receptionist followed, her hands on the documents.
"Phelenar."
"Here, you go, lady adventurer." The receptionist offered once her documents were signed.
Teleported through the borders of Phelenar, she hires a carriage, and soon she arrives at her family estate. Before she could open the carriage's door, a guard quickly moved into action.
"My lady." The guard bows.
"Oh, thank you."
Through the estate lodge, the guards quickly open the gate upon seeing her presence.
"Welcome home, my lady." The guards nod.
Returning respect towards the guards, the paladin quickly goes inside.
"Forgive me, Lady Ashalain, but Lord Ariendal had already left during that night." The butler said.
"Might I ask if Father left a message on where he went?"
"I'm sorry, my lady, but your father didn't leave any indication of where he was going. He hurriedly left in the middle of the night. However, there have been instances in the past when he would secretly leave the estate without a word. Though it's good that you've returned, is there anything that you desire at this time?"
"Ah, nothing at the moment… I think a good bath might be good."
"As you wish, my lady."
"Oh, by the way, what makes you think that father is different from today?" Ashalain ask.
"A hunch."
"A hunch?" Ashalain then crosses her arms.
The butler nods, "I have been serving Lord Ariendal for a long time; this, however, gave me a cold shoulder."
"I see." Ashalain gazes at the floor. "That's all I needed to hear; you can take your time now, Mr Hill."
"As you command, my lady."
Moving towards her father's office, Ashalain tries to force open the door. A powerful magical seal met her.
"Always keeping secrets, father." Ashalain gave a disappointed look.
She looked through the walls and thought of an idea.
"Do you hear the rumours regarding Lord Ariendal?" One of the stout maids whispers.
"Well, he's been like that ever since I was hired at this estate. It's quite common for him to leave in secret." Replied the slim old maiden.
As they were about to continue their chatter, they heard a loud bang. It's as if a powerful cannon had been fired relentlessly from the first floor of the building. Guards rushed in, as servants too followed the racket's source. What they found was Ashalain in her flaming fist, persistently punching the sealed door. And from the looks, the seal gradually lost its power, until with the forty-seventh punch, the double door was flung, hurling the door six meters from the inside.
"M-my lady!" One of the servants implores.
"There's no need to worry, I'll take full responsibility when father arrives. And do prepare me a cup of coffee and a dessert." Ashalain gave a warm smile towards the servants and the guards before entering Ariendal's private office.
"Okay, that's enough sightseeing. Return to your duties." The guards implore, calmly dispersing the servants.
"Oh, could you take the guards for a moment?" Ashalain commands one of the captain's guards.
As she takes her step inside her father's office, she notices the magical anomaly festering in the whole room. There were desks and small libraries that filled the area, but what Ashalain takes an interest in is what secret is inside the room.
Placing her ears on the floor, Ashalain knocks on the wooden floor, hoping that she can find some vacuum space. Disappointed, she moves towards her father's desk, which was centred in the area. What she discovered were documents and papers that were of no value to his secrets. It was only filled with drafts of letters and accounts of many wealthy people.
She scrutinised the paper; it contained obsolete information; the papers were letters long before she was born. Sigils of different kingdoms and empires, stretching from Mavigrid to its rival merchants, are called Mavigrid. Uncontented, she then rummages through every inch of the room, gliding her fingers over the shelves and furniture, hoping to detect any secret switches or buttons.
Alas, dusk came, and still there were no signs of information that would help uncover her father's secrets. She had already consumed seven rounds of coffee and ten slices of cake.
"Ahh… I need a rest." Ashalain sighs heavily, throwing herself on the chair made of cushions.
Taking ten minutes of rest, the paladin then leaves the area, but not before putting back the doors, as temporarily barricaded.
As midnight soon arrived, silence prevailed in the corridors and the walls of the estate. A man in black leather, shadows through the dim corridors, turning invincible once he enters the shades. But when he crossed the moonlight, five seconds were enough to reveal his true figure.
Dressed as what an infiltrator wears, he covers himself in a thick, dark, metal human-like mask. When he arrived at Ariendal's private office, the infiltrator found two guards standing asleep, with only a halberd for support.
Analysing the barricaded door, the man saw that it would fall if opened the common way. Pulling out a flask of glowing cobalt, he gives a simple squeeze of his fist, shattering the glass and releasing the chemicals.
There was no water; only a mist of glowing azure was discharged. Fascinatingly, the mist would envelop the man, turning his form ethereal. His presence was silent; his footsteps were cat-like, muffled to the brim, enough to pass through the guards easily.
"Peh, lazy guards."
And like a ghost, he was, the man passed through the door.
Thirty seconds pass, his ethereal form fades slowly as the glowing mist dwindles its light. Close enough, the man was an expert in his classes. Moving chairs and scanning books made no noise.
Immersing himself in searching the room, fully confident in his talents. That changes when he tries to go through one of the bookshelves. There was a strong magical seal in that room, and as they say, when there's smoke, there's fire. Only two feet from the bookshelves, the setting warps for a small time, and there, a hand grabs his arms.
"Shit!" The man scoffs, pulling an ethereal flask.
Unfortunately, his struggle was already sealed when Ashalain quickly hammers him on the bookshelves. His misfortune didn't end when Ashalain coils the man in flaming ropes; its colours were those of the early sun in the morning, preventing him from casting his magic. Slamming him on the ground, the guards from the other side quickly bolt into action.
"Who do you work for?" Ashalain exclaimed, ripping out his mask.
The man's face was completely burned, and only a few hairs were left.
"Damn it, oh well, I guess this is the end for me." The man smiled.
"Talk."
Hidden from the eyes, there was a symbol branded on his tongue. Biting his tongue, it quickly activates the seal, turning the man's flesh and clothes to ashes.
"Better than to have your soul be used." The man chuckles before his entire body disintegrates into ashes, leaving no evidence for Ashalain to uncover.
"W-what now, Lady Ashalain?" The guard captain asks.
"I need you to keep this a secret," Ashalain suggest. "I believe father might not be what he was in those past days."
"Well, I did notice that lord Ariendal would try to open his office many times." One of the guards spoke.
"I see, it seems Mr Hill was right," Ashalain said, gazing at the crumbled ash.