[SS] Hazy Silhouette

The man's insistence on rambling out loud about matters immediately lowered his credibility in Erin's eyes, but she could still not afford to be picky right now, all things considered. With darting eyes and a sigh, she looked toward the interior of the building. The prying eyes and ears of the town as well as those belonging to its many visitors made talking about these things in the open a problem.

And yet...

"Do forgive me Mister Fours, but when was the last time you were home? Call me paranoid if you will, but I have reason to believe malicious actors may be trying to silence those who aren't explicitly working for their specific interests. If anything looks awry on first glance in your home, we should leave immediately and discuss the matter in a safer location."

If nothing else, Birdway had unintentionally taught her an important lesson in not assuming anything or anyone was safe. If this man truly knew something, then he had eyes on him, just like Oldturf. What better way to get access to someone working with a meddler than in their own home? She continued speaking with a hushed whisper.

"And you are correct. I was hoping you could let me in on what your letter contains, as I am investigating this issue myself and would very much like us to cooperate with each other to bring this madness to an end. I could have simply tore it out and read it myself, but that wouldn't be right."

Saravati gave a deep sigh as Albrekka tried to defend her position. It was not like Saravati was unable to understand the point about the divulging the truth of the matter that Albrekka had been trying to articulate. After all, she was only where she was after having a gentle lie unmasked to reveal a harsh truth. One could possibly call Saravati out for her own hypocrisy and sophistry like she was trying to do for Albrekka.

Regardless of how much Albrekka was trying to avoid the fact that Saravati had been making clear, it was a guarantee that revealing the whole truth because the people had ‘deserved to know’ would invariably lead to more bloodshed.

But, in the end, arguing it was probably meaningless. The two were standing at an undeniable impasse and there was no need for her to try and take the last word. All she needed to do was keep a watch on what was going on.

“I guess I’ll take you up on that offer, then. However, the moment the situation shows any signs of spiraling out of control, I’m pulling us out.” That was the only declaration that was left for her to make as she followed into the police station and kept minute watch of her surroundings and of what Albrekka was saying.

I guess I really do have to stick with that non-intervention policy for the time being.

Malicious actors silencing people? What was that girl going on about? Could it be that her love for literature had dragged her mind so far astray to mix imagination with reality, entirely lost in fiction? Or had there actually been something else on the matter? Nate Fours was by far no fool, no matter how advanced his age. Yet still even his own sharpness didn’t quite cover for the work that was seeing through the scene he’d ended up caught up in right now.

As a matter of fact: This hadn’t been the first time he had encountered such a strange individual.

That man had been the same.

Those people had.

The more the girl said the stranger the entire deal became. Right after she unveiled the true reason for her arrival: That letter.

«What? What are you talking about? What do the contents of a simple letter have to do with the amount of sightseers that have come to Whitby? Just what are you implying? I don’t understand.»

Yes, to him the domain he was about to step into occurred only as a distorted far-fetched fantasy. Like many people he had seen the recent developments as a result of the news making a big round around the country and overseas, leading many to pursue their romantic thoughts linked to fairy tales from their youth; nothing beyond that.

Furthermore the way she spoke and the contents of her words, paired with her entire get-up only led to the impression of some conspiracy theorist. Entirely everything about her was doubtful. Allowing that intuition to surface on the outside the old man raised his brow again, glancing at the girl with strong perplexity. However…

«Siiigh. I wish I could just shrug it off like that, yet for a fact I do know some as strange character as you, young miss. Therefore I’ll hear you out. Be my guest and have a cup of tea with me. Would that be fine with you?»

That, though, wasn’t all that had led to the decision. In the end that old man was just a lover of intriguing tales.


A few minutes later the sound of an old tea pot’s shrill whistle would break the dampened mood of the small cabin. There was a tiny old wooden table with two chairs right next to it, a bunch of shelves containing mostly classic types of dining accessories, as well as a commode on top of which a bunch of rather old framed photos were gathered, the majority of those black and white. Logically spoken the entire interior of the surface floor apartment belonging to Nate Fours was just old school, not to say old fashioned. But that was fine considering his age.

Well, it would have been, if it wasn’t for the strange decorations. Every aspect of the interior had been a product of cabinet-makers’s or some other aspect of craftsmanship, except for the plastic objects hanging down from the ceiling or simply being installed on the walls here and there. Halloween Decoration. Bats. Vampire heads. Crosses. Fake garlic.

But even amidst all that contrast, the man seemed to be entirely at home, calm, normal, friendly, as expected of someone welcoming a guest — even under those absurd circumstances.

«Here please.»

Having poured hot water in two classic porcelain cups you’d usually find at antiquarians with tea bags placed within, he placed the pot on top of the small stove not far from the table, then seated himself right across to face his odd guest directly.

«The contents of the letter. Before I tell you, I need to first ask what the reason for you to inquire them is. Please understand that the recipient is an old friend of mine. So just like you, I do wish to see proof of what it is that you desire to do with the information. What value is there in them to solve this entire situation? Hold on, actually explain to me why there exists a reason to solve this situation in the first place?»

Those were his terms. He had agreed to listen to her and give her what she desired, that was true. However, even he realised that without acquiring the necessary knowledge, her very own proof of trust, he couldn’t go as far as to lay open his and especially his friend’s private life. It wasn’t anything done out of ill will. Much rather the opposite.


«Hello, I was wanting to submit some information regarding a possible kidnapping. Who do I go to for that?»

No response. That lady behind the counter didn’t even seem to bother, was her entire attention caught by something else: The act of sorting papers. It hadn’t been a small pile that was for sure, but the way it was spread felt rather odd, chaotic and in no way systematic. It was as if she was picking up some sheets from here some from there, reading, then putting them back. However after that proceeded for a while, she suddenly stopped in her tracks, laying everything down to finally pay the visitor proper respect.

«Good evening.»

The way she spoke was slow, but that was hardly surprising. On closer inspection one would notice the deep dark rings underneath her eyes, the red retinas and the overall messy situation of her long blonde hair. Like an image of death itself stood a severe insomniac.

She most likely had been working non-stop for the past few days.

«A kidnapping. A kidnapping? Which was it again?»

Rummaging through the amount of paper she had before her, she pulled out one — a standard form for reporting a crime — , then handed it to the girl.

«Fill this out and take it to room 1.33. The officer there will help you.»

That was all. Once explained the insomniac woman immediately returned to the impossibly nonsensical task of moving around the papers on the counter, muttering a string of strange words under her breath. She was most definitely not alright, yet that seemed to be another of the aspects this incident had brought along. Everyone was giving their most in all places, even if it went beyond human limits. That’s how bad all that stir had been.


What lay ahead now was the long road to room 1.33. A glance on a map of the building would prove that it was in located in some far corner of the first floor.

The path to it however was odd. With the lighting in the entire building being more than lacking, most of the lamps were out of commission naturally. The few lights glowing here and there came from other corridors or rooms where someone was still working; the main route was entirely uncovered. To make matters worse there was an eerie silence lingering all around. Except for the occasional sounds of fingers tapping on keyboards or a pen racing across paper there was absolutely nothing. No life. No warmth. An ice cold, silent, dark path, like a mausoleum, uninviting from the first o the last step.

And at the end of it there awaited them a single closed door.

Towards how the children reacted, the young knight could only sigh in deep regret. He had hoped his experience with being an elder brother could help calm the fears the children had, but compared to his sister these kids were vastly different and mainly for the situation they had just experienced.

«…I think it would be best to leave the two of them a bit…for a while…to calm their heads, you know…»

She didn't seem convinced of her words, Alexander had thought, and he didn't blame her for that uncertainty. Sighing he again at this whole situation the girl continued.

«Actually I am not here to chit-chat with the two of you. No matter how much you’d prefer chilling around while the world burns down we do have more pressing matters to take care of right here and right now. Fucking hell, it’d be bad if we lost more time in trusting some unprofessionals with that stuff, so let’s go right ahead.»

"So there is no time, tsh?" Alexander thought as he stood up slowly, again avoiding to make sudden movements. Though any attempt to collect his thoughts were disturbed by the sudden use of a flip phone by this girl. She even seemed pretty adept at using it, though she didn't seem pleased by the method, what followed was a familiar sounding voice which to be honest was expected.

『Mhmhm, what took you so long Bláth? The meat’s already cold, y’know… Either way, I guess everyone is present? Beathen, Moore, whatever is left of your forces? Give me the details, will you? And I mean eveeeryyyything.』

"Richmond Longroad?" Alexander had thought as Moore spoke soon afterwards.

"A complete failure, of course," Moore said in the same tone as before. "As for more specific details, you'll have to wait a bit. Our audience consists of children and one Mark Space, and none are suitable for giving a proper report in front of." Moore seemed to have been different from his tone back at the church. It seems from Alexander's understanding paying back for the credit due to Longroad appeared to have long past. Things have changed, and there was no doubt things couldn't go as they have been. Even he has with his view change on things since getting here.

"Mark Space" Alexander took note of his name and appearance it was someone he had no plan on forgetting.

"What is it?" Moore had said turning his attention to the gentleman who has been a player in this past event and Alexander took this chance to turn his attention Neve and Longroad who was speaking over the device.

Alexander was the perfect person give a report, though he had no reason to do so like Moore and besides the point if she was indeed a spy then he will eventually know what happened here. What's more important now was to stabilise the situation, though he would prefer if he could pick his friends up and carry them to safety but something had indicated that would be impossible at this moment.

He wondered though if the church will continue to string them along in a round-a-bout way, which is only hurting the efficiency and results of the knights to act. Something must be done to put both the church and the Knights on equal footing, to make them see there is value in proper cooperation, but even so, trust will always remain an issue.

Though the question would be how? Even though he decided not to give the report either, he couldn't help go through what he would've had said, but that translated just too quick thoughts in his mind.  

"As much as I enjoy giving reports, this isn't the time and place, and besides we need to figure out where to take the children. I'm pretty sure the police would have missing reports, we could give them to... maybe it's best you do the negotiations for that bit." Alexander had said remembering the awkward incident at the station. But they need to get the children to safety and at least some care. Staying with the Knights wasn't going to do them any favours.

“So, he survived.” Mark had accidentally muttered loud enough for the young knight to hear and his eyes narrowed when Mark spoke up afterwards.  “Our jester friend left a message,” he simply said aloud.

“Sincerely yours,

Ambroise.”

Alexander had noticed something, though he thought he did, there wasn't much to grasp here other than assumptions. It was best he left such thoughts to himself until he can confirm it. But that doesn't mean he couldn't ask the questions needed to be asked. Turning his eyes towards the spy girl and the device that she used to communicate with Longroad. Alexander who seemed curious though in an entire serious fashion went to ask...

«Fools that have been daring enough to challenge me and my master. Burn.»

He remembered something just before he spoke.

"Ambroise, that's the name of the jester. I do realise we are supposedly short on time, but you have to give us something." Alexander was angry, he made it known in his words as he said them sharply to make a point.  "Who is Ambroise and more importantly who's pulling his strings? Answering that and what is his goal here in Whitby should be the most important questions you need to figure out." Alexander said who's tone lightened as he continued. "But I say, let's leave that for now since it seems there is an issue that needs resolving? What is the problem?" Alexander said noting the young spy's words before had appeared to indicate there was no time and that they need professionals to deal with it.

The air had grown heavy from one moment to the other. Even with her boss’s usual carefree talk she was sure even he had tensed up on that other end of the line. She’d usually fling a bite-y comment his way, but with everything the way it was, she remained silent only holding onto the phone.

Somewhere inside her head Moore’s words still lingered. That stuff about how she was cut out best to handle the children, to offer them warmth and comfort. But was that really true? Casting glance towards Paula and Ronny, seeing how lost they were right now, she still felt limp. There was no power she held that could do anything. Bláthín Neve had never been in a situation like that, nor had she ever been anyone capable of dealing with others…

She hadn’t been someone people could look up to. No great leader. No powerful monster. No caring friend. Nobody one ever had wished to have around.

Not even human, right?

That’s why she’d just become a tool to serve in their eyes.

『I see, I see. Mhhh. Yeah for the children’s sake let’s leave all the heavy talk for later. I actually am just missing a few minutes of the entire deal. Bláth here did a good job at letting me listen in, until the original line was roasted, y’see.』

She caught up to Longroad’s casual manner of talk. That worry free characteristic he held was unique only for himself. It was a poker face she guessed, but a perfect one at that. Thanks to a communication’s item she had carried with her he’d been able to listen in to nearly everything, he’d been held up to date by her word and should have lived through the same things as her and yet unlike her he hadn’t been taken aback.

『Also don’t mind Mark Space. It’s good to have him here. I actually wanna talk with him as well. So, take a seat…or at least make yourself feel at home, Mark.』

Things shot here and there, the other’s spoke, she remained as silent as the whole time, listening only.

Until that name fell.

«Ambroise, that's the name of the jester. I do realise we are supposedly short on time, but you have to give us something. Who is Ambroise and more importantly who's pulling his strings? Answering that and what is his goal here in Whitby should be the most important questions you need to figure out. But I say, let's leave that for now since it seems there is an issue that needs resolving? What is the problem?»

Ambroise. The way things had quickly moved from caring about the situation of the innocent to the usual serious talk about enemies. She’d known it all along that they would jump quickly to the matters those adults cared the most for. It was true action was necessary, yet it still left a bitter taste in her mouth, especially considering the poor victims that only strived for salvation were first row audience to all that.

『Actually that is one of the problems. The Magician Ambroise is a peculiar case. But y’know I shouldn’t be the one to explain who he is, right Mark Space? After all you guys have a history, don’t you? I mean after what the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight did to him and his little friends.』

There it was again. Longroad’s know-it-all face. Baiting people with information, yet never sharing anything, even though it was clear he knew everything; all for the sake of cornering others. She’d known this facet, this horrifyingly evil and selfish aspect. He’d always been like that. Cold and sharp as ice.

She just wished he’d care for something else just as much…

『As for who is pulling his strings. That’s an unknown value. Could be anyone. I already started digging into that, but looking at how easily the servant snuck past my attention until now the master must be some real expert at trickery. Won’t be easy, but I guess we’ll know eventually.』

It had all been just a game to him. He hadn’t reacted in agitated way, but to her it was clear the by his choice of words it was an outright attack at Beathen. He bit him down by proving that he’d already been on it, yet shrugged it off as something he couldn’t do anything about right now, pretending it was just a thing that would come to terms eventually. Maybe he was even lying about everything. Possibly Longroad could have already researched this whole matter on his own, already holding onto a list possible culprits. Or maybe he had sent them there knowing all along that it would just be to prove suspicions he had been holding ever since the incident on the first day.

Biting her lip, Bláthín suppressed her urge to barge in.

After all there was something she cared for more than listening in on all that…

Mark could only wonder who it was who could have been aware enough of his existence that he would actively ask for Mark to stay and listen. The voice on the other end of the young magician girl’s communication line was, without a doubt, privy to an absurd amount of information, considering how casually he addressed Mark.

Of course, after the initial address from the man and the frantic questioning from the young knight, the man’s absurd amount of knowledge and the feeling of the man having the attitude of a puppetmaster became stark and clear. The very fact that he even knew of the Dawn-Colored Sunlight’s past and connected events was extremely suspect, dyed within a certain color, so to speak.

The feeling of being jerked around by others without his initial knowledge or consent was definitely a normal feeling, though not one he, or anyone for that matter, enjoyed in the slightest. But, he could take the cue here as necessary.

“Ambroise is the former leader of a small Golden Cabal going by the name of Long Forgotten Memoire of Golden Times. It was an eccentric cabal that desired a means to turn back the clock to fall back into their own nostalgia. But, in the process, the cabal ended up biting off more than it could chew when it drew the ire of the Dawn-Colored Sunlight.”

Mark paused to think on his next statement. “The details of how that happened are unnecessary for us, though. In the end, the boss, the headstrong leader that she is, waged what could be on the surface called a war against them, though any outsider could tell that it was nothing more than a one-sided bloodbath. As a result, we had thought them all to be eliminated.”

Tapering off, he stared at the rose in his hand. “Unfortunately, their leader, and possibly a few more, had the luck to somehow survive that. As for who his supposed ‘master’ is and how he was even subsumed into his current organization, I would not know.”

『I see, I see. Mhhh. Yeah for the children’s sake let’s leave all the heavy talk for later. I actually am just missing a few minutes of the entire deal. Bláth here did a good job at letting me listen in, until the original line was roasted, y’see.』

Moore's eyes flickered strangely as Longroad revealed one of his webs, but showed no other outward reaction. The man knew the majority of what happened already, so him asking so specifically for a detailed report meant that it was a test. He'd wanted to see if Moore would attempt to conceal anything and latch onto the weakness created if he did. Seeing this only served to deepen his original impression of the man.

『Also don’t mind Mark Space. It’s good to have him here. I actually wanna talk with him as well. So, take a seat…or at least make yourself feel at home, Mark.』

Though perhaps not all the details were clear, there was at least one obvious hint as to Longroad's motivations for keeping company with what should be an enemy: the name that slipped from said enemy's lips. “So, he survived. Our jester friend left a message. Sincerely yours, Ambroise.” The first words that slipped from Space's lips were obviously not meant for them to hear, but they had managed to anyway.

Moore took a moment to turn the name over in his mouth. Ambroise. That was the name of one of the many enemies he had to face in this town. And also... The name of his second failure. He wouldn't forget it.

«Ambroise, that's the name of the jester. I do realise we are supposedly short on time, but you have to give us something. Who is Ambroise and more importantly who's pulling his strings? Answering that and what is his goal here in Whitby should be the most important questions you need to figure out. But I say, let's leave that for now since it seems there is an issue that needs resolving? What is the problem?»

In reaction to his subordinate's question, Moore sent a glance his way. It was hardly disapproving; if anything, he didn't know what to feel. Beathen asked his question with what seemed to the pure intent to cooperate as equals. Even in the face of such obvious ill intent, he was neither conciliatory nor aggressive but diplomatic. Moore wasn't sure whether the boy was naïve, innocent, had some plan of his own, or was just dense, but in the end he didn't see any point in interjecting.

The question was something he'd like an answer to as well, and he figured that exposure to more of Longroad's malice would serve to impress upon him just what kind of people the magicians of Necessarius are. Though he couldn't see Longroad's face, Moore was certain that there was an ugly smile on it just like last he'd seen. The very thought was unpleasant; perhaps he'd let Beathen have a turn wrestling with that monster.

And with his thoughts drifting to faces and his eyes drifting to Longroad, Moore entirely coincidentally noticed another face he'd unintentionally ignored.

"Girly, that thing's on speaker, right? Then we might as well work while we chat. Neither the kids nor my men are getting any better just lying there." Even as he spoke, he'd already resumed shambling towards their collapsed figures.

The girl had gone silent when Longroad had entered the conversation, and the impact of his presence almost led him to forget she was there. But he saw her upset expression while contemplating Longroad's appearance on the other side of the phone, and it wasn't hard to guess what it was for. While unlike a certain subordinate of his, she seemed much less talkative during times like this, if that look on her face was any indication she got along about as well with her boss as any of them.

People like Longroad like to talk, so Moore figured that his lambasting Beathen with one monologue or another was as good an opportunity as any to resume the work that his sudden appearance had stalled in the first place.

“Ambroise is the former leader of a small Golden Cabal going by the name of Long Forgotten Memoire of Golden Times. It was an eccentric cabal that desired a means to turn back the clock to fall back into their own nostalgia. But, in the process, the cabal ended up biting off more than it could chew when it drew the ire of the Dawn-Colored Sunlight.”

Unfortunately, though he'd have liked to have enjoyed the respite from Longroad a bit longer, it seemed he had to interject here. This was too large of a bombshell to simply ignore. From his position on the ground by the knights and kidsーhe'd finally managed to reach themーhe spoke without looking back to face those he was addressing.

"If a shadow from the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight's past is involved with this, then I guess this isn't just a case of them taking advantage of this chaos to snag some 'merchandise'. Though I suppose the warm entrance they'd prepared for us made that clear enough, too. Any idea what this Ambroise could have wanted with a bunch of kids in vampire city? Even if he's not in charge, there should be a reason why his services were enlisted."

Given the relationship between their organizations, Space had no real reason to answer. But this was the Portuguese Market. Distaste for that organization spanned across cabals and factions, and he had already answered once. And in the end, there was no harm in asking a simple question, right?

"Thanks.  Hopefully things will calm down soon so you can get some rest.  Take care of yourself."  The form was certainly something she could fill out, but she decided to fill it out in a place she could sit down; that being this office, after all.

"This way, then."  Though the path was obvious, she muttered this regardless, perhaps as some way to calm her nerves.  The path was certainly dark, the lights going out.  Who was setting such an curious mood?  She could certainly protect herself for the most part, but she was unsure of what ability this girl had, or why she was so insistent on following her.  But, considering what she said, she more than sealed that partnership.

It only took a few steps down the hallway to see it.


So he was chief inspector?  Still, it had seemed that the police force was unaware that Paul had passed away the night before.  That, or someone took his place?  She wasn't sure until the door was open.  Either way, the room itself would certainly clear up a lot.  Who was Paul?  What was his family like?  Where did he live?  What did he like or dislike?  What was he looking into, what did he know?

All of this was necessary to know for her.  Because of this, she knocked and attempted to open the door.

"Excuse us."

“Rest, huh...” Saravati spoke out in a sing-song manner. “That would be niiiiiiiice.” As she followed behind Albrekka, she held out that note and she stretched her arms and back.

Unfortunately, she was completely aware that things were not going to calm down soon. Even if she was on a bit of a semi-related sidequest, Necessarius was in this city for a reason. It’s not like things would get resolved the moment this kidnapping incident Albrekka was focused on was resolved.

Things were hardly that simple.

Things were far, far too hazy for the incident to end that simply.

As she reached the door with Albrekka, she saw the nameplate that designated the office’s owner.

Her eyes simply narrowed at the sight. “I see...”  

It was only natural that the Chief Inspector Oldturf would be the one involved in taking information on possible kidnappings and missing persons. But, the fact that they were directed towards Oldturf’s office meant one of many possibilities (or a combination of them).

Information about Oldturf’s death had likely not been made privy to the police. Perhaps they were going to enter an empty room and get to rummage through for important files and information. Perhaps this combined with the station’s atmosphere meant a trap was in wait.

No matter what, she could only remain cautious in case she needed to reflexively escape.

---

“Unfortunately, I can’t give any definite answers as to what Ambroise’s doing at the moment. Things are hardly simple enough for me to know that answer.”

After all, the Boss was out and about doing her own thing. He hardly had an optimal support network since the Boss had gone off the radar for her own ends.

Honestly, I have to wonder what runs through her head at times like this.

“Even though Ambroise may have been a small blight on our past, I doubt that there’s any enmity towards us driving his actions.”

Based on how he had been acting, he was playing around, but Mark could not find a hint of a desire for revenge. Ambroise and whoever he was working for had their own motives independent of the Dawn-Colored Sunlight. That was undeniable fact.

“Regardless of his past with us, he was taken into the Portuguese Market. That’s all I can say.”

The door was neither locked nor in any sense resistant.

It simply opened on the girl’s push, creating time for any trap to spring into action. Only that there wasn’t any to begin with. But what they saw still would remain a thing to be taken aback by or rather surprised…?


The chief inspector’s office was an actually rather large place, however the state it was in right now made it seemed overly cramped. Tall stacks — actual mountains — of paper were spread everywhere. The entire scenery was just white and with slight shades of black. Handwriting, prints, sketches, all on each of them. The sole pieces of furniture to be recognised were a small desk with two chairs for guests in front and one for the office’s owner.

While the two for visitors weren’t occupied, the third one was indeed.

What awaited was neither a vampire, nor anything that could be interpreted as a police officer.

A scruff man in colourful handwoven poncho wearing a police uniform underneath and an officer’s hat on his messy hair.

His name would immediately come to one of the girl’s minds: Richmond Longroad.

«It isn’t about the children or anything like that, I think. The most obvious course of action for them to take is to steal people, but that’s clear anyway. So if they did that nobody would question why they’re here to begin with, since they’re just exploiting the chances they’re offered for their own gain, correct? I guess that’s what they’re really gunning at. Doing the most obvious and natural thing out there.»

He was talking to someone on a device that was placed before him. From the looks of it and its obvious shape it wasn’t a complicated magical communication’s item, but a simple flip phone. He wasn’t holding onto it and an audible sound of static revealed that it was turned to speaker mode. After all in both of his hands there were items. Pieces of paper he had picked from some of the stacks close by.

Entirely enthralled by the conversation he hadn’t even noticed the intruders. That was how busy he was. Or maybe he was just pretending?

«Going over what happened right there, though, I need to say that things were a little too weird for just some camouflage. They saw you coming, so why didn’t they flee? Why bother fighting, if escaping had already been ensured anyway? If you ask me that whole deal smells like staging. They wanted us to experience this first hand and trigger something within. Like an ensemble would do to their audience. Pretty slick~!»

The man’s demeanour of conversation was an entirely jolly one. He spoke an upbeat talk; however that had been in stark contrast with his facial expression and body tension. It affected him, clearly, he just attempted to hide it as good as he could by pretending on the phone. Nobody could see him after all, so nobody would be able to read into him.

Yes, even Richmond Longroad couldn’t help but grow nervous at this vicious beast they were currently facing. Even he couldn’t help but fear what was yet to come.


It seemed the man had been so absorbed in his talk that he hadn’t noticed the ones listening in. Looking at how confidential the information appeared it was utterly questionable how careless his entire way of acting was.

Or hadn’t it been?

Suddenly his eyes had wandered. Hidden by the strands of chaotic hair just a moment ago, a single one had grown visible, shooting out and piercing the two guests like the Lance of Longinus itself with its glance.

«Now, were these the kind of things you wanted to hear?»

He asked, unveiling an unexpected step to victory?

But whose?

The oddly attired detective assumed a proper posture as she gazed at the man with eyes ablaze with the flames of hope. Hope that she has for once actually stumbled on something that could provide some answers. Some perspective. Some guiding light in the darkness. This was all she had, so she might as well gamble her hopes and dreams on this one move!

"I know what I said sounds a bit, or well... a lot preposterous. However, please hear me out, Mr. Fours. You have a good head on your shoulders; surely you've noticed that ever since reports of a so-called 'vampire' came in, this town's been host to a large influx of...visitors? People have died, or at least someone has saw fit to make people believe that people have died. The police are tight lipped, and what little remains of their active presence is tenuous at best. Even you must have seen or heard that explosion the other day, and noticed the people in weird clothes?"

She blushed when she realized the last one would include herself. But on she pressed, even through the man's likely stare of incredulity at the hypocrisy of calling out people dressed oddly.

"...Clothes like dark robes, covering their faces, and other shady stuff, I mean. I even came across what looked like human traffickers at one point, brazenly and boldly walking the streets like they owned the place. People are staring daggers at each other for the crime of even existing within their sight, and nobody is leaving. Vampire or not, something is happening around here, and there's a potential for further problems. We already have a body count and an apparent explosion if the reports are true. I'd like it very much if they could be convinced to just leave this town alone and take their problems with them. If that includes finding out whether or not there's some forces at work here who are responsible for the rumours in the first place, I would like to have them dealt with too. Preferably by talking them down, but many options are on the table."

She produced the letter and pointed to the name of the recepient. Silas Sharpthorne.

"I came across this man's name in the context of vampire-hunting and the like. Something tells me that this letter may contain information about the so-called 'vampire' case taking place here. An appeal for assistance with some clues or information you've discovered, maybe. Or even asking him to come here to investigate things personally. But I haven't opened it, so I don't know. I easily could have just taken it and kept its contents for myself, leaving you none the wiser as to why you could neither find your letter nor received a reply. Rather, I hoped you would share with me its contents so we may try to get to the bottom of this together. If you've found something, no matter how inconsequential it may appear to your eyes, please share it with me so we can prevent any more needless suffering. Not to mention, this would make for a good detective case, wouldn't it?"

«I see.»

After the detailed overly lengthy explanation the girl had offered he only gave her those two words. He inhaled, then exhaled. Silence fell for a moment. It seemed he was making sure to process everything he had just heard. Once he was sure he had, he blinked for a moment, took a sip of tea and exhaled again.

«Actually I might not see entirely. But it sounds better if I pick those words. To say the least I do get the gist of the situation. You are concerned over this incident growing out of place, believing that the solution to it all can be found in Silas. Or at least you hope that it will be.»

He summarised the main facts for himself, rather than for her, then fell silent again. Even going as far as to close his eyes, he made it rather clear how hard it was to process everything. Yet just a moment later, when he opened them again a change had occurred.

«Fine. I will tell you everything. Everything that might be relevant to explain the situation behind the letter and why it won’t be of much use for you; unfortunately.»

That was what Nate Fours had decided, laying open the sad truth. He was dead serious as he did so, meaning the disappointing news were in fact true. But then again, even if the letter didn’t seem to have contents of use, what he was about to tell may have been a different story — after all he had settled on sharing it to support her in her quest.

«Silas Sharpthorne is an old acquaintance or friend of mine. We met years ago here in Whitby. Back in the days he had been a young tourist and I an already old man. As you might tell, I do have a certain degree of interest in literature and especially that associated with vampires. In fact after I retired from my old job, I got one at the local Dracula museum. It’s not the best and most authentic place, but it perfectly aligns with my strongest interests and love.

A few years before that I met him at the Whitby Abbey, as he was investigating the many sceneries mentioned in Bram Stoker’s novels. Discovering our common interests we immediately started to talk. It was truly a funny first encounter. I, who thought of himself as an expert, was talked entirely into the ground by that youngster. He just would’t shut up with his facts and all that, it was terrifyingly amazing. Haha. Back then he told me that he was travelling the world chasing after any kind of myth, rumour or tale associated with vampires and that he used his family’s wealth just for the sake of accomplishing that. He apparently also wrote books and sold them in the strangest kind of circles. I was impressed and am it even now. After all, unlike me, he truly had managed to make his passion his life.

We became friends and whenever he’d visit Whitby he’d come by my place, spending entire afternoons talking about his favourite topics. He’d tell me tales from all over and I would tell him my personal opinions on it, as well as some interpretations to his stories. That was how it always went, for years. He’d come once or twice during the year, sometimes even more, but those were the rather odd cases.

Unfortunately, though, besides those visits I never got the chance to communicate with him in any other way. Neither did the man have a mobile phone, nor a fixed address was he travelling the entire time. All I was left with was send him letters to an address he told me was the most frequent he used. I did so and after weeks or months I found a reply in my mailbox. That was all we had, but that was the charm about our friendship.

It has been a while since we last talked, however. He hasn’t visited the town in over a year and even the last letter I received is about a year old now. I think last of what I heard was that he found a woman crazy enough to marry him…

And last time I have seen him…hm…he behaved odd. …Right. That was when he left that with me.»

Sunken deep into the tales about a long lasting friendship the old man recalled something that caused him to furrow his eyebrows. A memory that neither seemed pleasant nor easy to shrug away. Yet again the latter was exactly what he tried to do the very next instance.

«The reason why I am intending to send this letter is because it is strange that I haven’t seen him yet. With all these ongoings and the fact that vampires stand at the centre of it, he should have been the first one to show up in town. And yet he hasn’t. That has me worried.»

Simple people have the tendency to not look beyond what is in front of them. Like a child who doesn't understand that things still exist even when you're looking away from them, they think that what they see before their eyes is all that needs to be considered. While Moore undoubtedly fell into that category of people, considering all he had done to exceed that it might be too cruel to limit the standards applied to him to that.

"So in the end, we know nothing except that we were lured here. Nothing except that they know more than we do."

That wasn't expressly true. They had learned that a phantom from the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight's past was involved, though that was apparently of little consequence to the present. Even as Mark Space stood here at the scene. They'd learned that they somehow knew the Knights would be arriving in advance. Even as Longroad, who had tracked their every move, looked at them from the safety of his web as usual.

To give a kinder evaluation. Because he is a simple person, he had no other choices. The only thing he could question was that which was before his eyes, despite all he had done to surpass his limits. In the end he had remained constrained by those definitions. Rather than any of the larger questions, that was all he could address. He lacked the power, information, the station to do anything more.

«Now, were these the kind of things you wanted to hear?»

"I don't like what I hear at all, but yeah. Thanks for clearing away my misgivings."

A fly can't fight back against a spider. Even if it sees the web, once caught it's too late to attack the spider for creating it. What Longroad said was likely the truth. The more lies he told, the more vulnerabilities he exposed. So we wove his webs with the truth, obscuring the things Moore desired to know the most but deserved to know the least.

"However, Longroad. There's still one more question I need to ask you."

To reiterate, Moore is a simple man. He lacks everything that is needed to defy Longroad properly. But improperlyー

"As the one holding our leash, in the end, why did you send us here?"

Improperly. Improperly; in that manner he had already once destroyed the webs that Longroad had so carefully woven. It had resulted in him falling to his current position, but that was unmistakably a definite blow which had impacted the proud magician.

The question was that was of a dissatisfied flunky. In the end, at the very least, tell me why you sent us all this way, he said. He asked as if he wouldn't accept a non-answer, like he had to at least know that much. And that was true. He had no need for fabrication, he simply allowed the emotions he had shoved down to bubble up.

But the failure lied in the loose tongue. Casually as if he saw no need to conceal it or didn't even think of doing so, he revealed the reason the knights were present, and the power that Longroad held over them. To answer the question of how the Market knew they were coming, Longroad was the ideal suspect. Unable to see anything beyond what was before his eyes, such considerations were beyond himーbut the audience had a better head than him. The viewers would put the pieces together.

Mark Space, Alexander Beathen, Bláthín Neve, the children, and later through Space again, the nunーif it had not occurred to them before, the seed had now been sown among them. What it would blossom into was for the moment unknown, but if Longroad was unlucky, it would make waves. It would be the second of Moore's blows against him.

---

A still kinder evaluation, kinder than he deserves. Perhaps he exceeded the bounds of the simple man after all.

As Longroad spoke on the phone, Albrekka took the time to check the walls and shelves.  Certificates, diplomas, pictures of family, picture of friends or colleagues, books, what have you, whatever she could see at her position, perhaps even a picture of his home, which would be lucky.  But it did not take long to realize that the man in the chair was glaring at her.

"Seems we're intruding, though...you're certainly not Paul."

One thing was clear.  Whoever this was knew enough about Paul to know that he died.  Why take his position in the police station, seemingly discussing the situation at hand, if he didn't know?  With the conversation at hand, it was clear that he knew more than he put on, and this conversation on the other end of the phone was that he was seemingly stringing another party along for something.

"Since I have your ear, I have my own question: several orphans were left in the care of a Mark Space by a nun named Francesca.  A priest of the same church approached me today in order to kill me regarding this fact.  Since this was now known, I figured that the orphans in question were snatched away, perhaps at the behest of Leivinia Birdway, leader of Dawn-colored Sunlight.  You seem to be discussing the same situation.  Where are they?"

She asked, seemingly interrupting the call in question; though, it had seemed that this call was going nowhere, as whoever was on the other line had hit a dead end, the man in front of them not giving them the proper details.  Asking openly like this...perhaps whoever this was, both sides could benefit from this man's knowledge, if he had any?

Following behind Albrekka with an absurd amount of alertness to watch the door open to something she had not expected in the slightest. Sitting on the chair in behind the office table was an all-too-familiar man.

When someone asked her to describe him, he would be the farthest thing from a police officer. The person who sat before her was…

“Boss?”

She uttered one single word before letting a sigh of relief break. While it was definitely not what she had prepared for, running into Longroad here was probably the best case scenario if not close to it.

But, as she paid close attention to his demeanor when he was talking on the phone and fielding questions from all over, it was fairly obvious that things were getting to him. His demeanor may have been upbeat from voice alone, but his body language made it clear that that was all a facade.

Meticulous manipulation of a situation and the creation of a balance was tough on its own and it was even tougher when there were people working to throw off that balance, whether unknowingly or knowingly.

The moment she would try to say anything to support her boss would be the moment she would break his balance.

“These orphans involved are not the ones we took in yesterday. These orphans, however, are...mostly fine,” A new voice resounded from the phone’s speaker. It was different from the one who was speaking before and was likely responding to Albrekka, who would likely recognize it. “Most of them are now safe, though a small number have perished.”

It was simple, cold report which the one behind it used to sugar coat.

Understanding Richmond Longroad was quite similar to solving the final puzzle in the final dungeon of an old school RPG. Difficult, straining, yet not impossible.

He heeded the girl’s question first, moving the knights to the sidelines for only a second. After all the wishes of the civilians in need always held the highest priority for any man of the law. However before he could reveal the answer on his own someone cut in from the other side of the line; not an unexpected event if he was honest.

«Indeed. The children in the Dawn-Coloured Sunlight’s care should still be fine as they are. It would seem quite illogical for them to act in way that would impose harm on the innocent, looking at their past behaviour that is. However, there were more endangered by the current situation than just those children. Those Franceska Purezza was unable to protect. My colleagues have taken care of that job faithfully, though. The most have been secured and will be placed in good care ASAP. So I guess, case closed~? May I have your forms in that case please~?»

With a fake jolly smile the even faker police officer stretched out his right arm to welcome the sheets the visitor had filled out in the lobby. It seemed to be more of an unnecessary formality than anything of use, but his entire behaviour did give him out to be rather insistent on the matter.

Having worked one stack to the bottom, he returned to the other one right away.

«However, Longroad. There's still one more question I need to ask you. As the one holding our leash, in the end, why did you send us here?»

A simple question would linger between the two of them. No, it would linger between the entirety of their factions. Was that accurate or wasn’t it? Was it a heavy blow or wasn’t it? He’d left it in an entirely enigmatic state not replying until the moment he saw the most fit. But why?

«Good will. That sums my reason up perfectly. Nothing more, nothing less. You guys are in a tight spot. You wanna do something good. I had an important task for you to take care of. Something that could help you regain your reputation, even. So why shouldn’t I have sent you? Well, I could have sent someone a bit more skilled at dealing with the delicate stuff, but that would have left a bad taste with me, considering the position you’re in. I’m a man of honour, you see.»

No trace of pressure. No trace of worry. No trace of anything like a corner even remotely close by. Richmond Longroad simply shrugged what Moore perceived as a heavy blow off as nothing but a small fly.

«Believe it or not: I do not have any ulterior motifs. Unlike you, I would say. Or can you deny that your position on Magicians and the Anglican Church in general is affecting your judgement right here? Or is there another reason for your blatant lack of willingness to cooperate, communicate or apply common sense?»

There hadn’t been a reaction from her. Of course there hadn’t been, looking at the tension she had to endure right there. This situation was far beyond anything she had handled before, as its scale was greater than there could have ever been one.

This wasn’t a conflict between two men or between two factions. She knew just how much was on the line. And for some reason it truly felt as if she who was just serving as the catalyst somehow stood at the centre of it all.

Yes her thoughts had been with the children the entire time, yet she couldn’t let that burst out right there. After all what was going on right now was nothing she had hoped to experience first hand…

She knew everything, understood everything.

So she could tell. This was bad.

But even so…somewhere inside she felt like…could they move that aside for the time being…?

Alexander sighed deeply after remaining silent for a while listening to the advancing conversation going on around him. He took careful note of what was being said and wasn't he also realised that something else was occurring on the other side of that device. But either way, he wasn't pleased though the reason why was hard to emphasise in words.  

"Man of honour, huh." Alexander said clearly, not hiding those words hearing it from Longroad felt insulting. "Tough spot or not do you think how you handle our 'cooperation' if you understand what that word truly means with any sense of honour? I don't know if you realise, but our image at least mine isn't important. As the only thing that matters here remains the only important thing to my mind..." Alexander continued to what seemed like a rant he had turned towards Moore and walked towards him as his hand begun to glow.

It was a faint white glow, and it appeared to have a calming effect on those lost in its light.

He had no reason to hide his ability to heal, for this entire time his body has been on self-healing in front of everyone. It was clearly out of the bag that Alexander had the ability to heal. And he showed that also to a certain extent at the station controlled by the church. So again any reasons to keep his ability a secret was now redundant.

"To never abandon the weak and injured, to protect them from the strong who seek to take advantage. To never abandon one's duty and loyalty to the one you serve and to never leave your allies when in danger." Alexander said who nodded towards Moore before placing his hand near where he seemed the most injured and at that moment a calming sensation enveloped his superior as Alexander begun to heal him. Though he was no longer focused on the device, the young knight's words remained sharp and clear towards Longroad. "And most importantly to always remain faithful and honest," Alexander emphasised that last point clearly and to highlight his resentment over this whole situation. "Honour doesn't play to your advantage, it often works against what you want to achieve, and it sometimes contradicts... But please understand it doesn't matter to me if you're a knight, magician or some dead man in a clown suit. If you get in my way from protecting this town and the innocent people in it, then you're nothing but an enemy. Call me naive; I don't care as long you continue to play your games I will focus on what's important. And at this moment it's to get my fellow knights and the children here to safety." Alexander had said who looked towards Moore to make a decision on what to do next.

That's the thing about honour; it does contradict, the guidelines any man of honour has often worked against each other as if to challenge the person morally at any moment.

It's why he had to leave that man in the station to die so he can protect his fellow knights.

"Sir Moore.."Alexander said quietly enough only for him to hear his words. "I think it's best we regroup and get these children to safety first before we act on anything else. We can't realistically do much when we're not even at half strength... But.. it's your decision whatever it may entail..."

He had so much to learn, he doesn't know if he's doing the right thing so he acts on what was important to him. He wanted to protect the kids, he wanted to get his knights to safety until they can recover and hope the very least that was enough.

To some extent, there was some charm and value in being persistent and stubborn. Those who walked headstrong with a defiant attitude could be the linchpin that break down even the toughest of situations. On the other hand, life was not so simple.

“I won’t call you naive. Naive is too kind a word for what you’re all being, Sir Knight.” Saravati was not even trying to hide the bitter, mocking tone that was overpowering her voice. “Perhaps, reckless? Tunnel-visioned? Ignorant? Paranoid? Unnecessarily confrontational? Egocentric? There’re a ton of good words I could use to describe you right now. But what this whole situation boils down to is that you’re right now in no position to talk about cooperation.”

In the end, that persistence and stubbornness could be a cause for even more pain and heartbreak than progress and breakthrough. An attack at a wrong angle could cause far more damage than non-action in the end.

The young girl sauntered over to her superior as she spoke, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll put it bluntly. Your defiant tone. Your rash actions at the police office. Your seeming desire to one-up Necessarius and control the situation has done more to harm Whitby and its residents than you think. You may think that you’re the ones in the right. The great heroes protecting Whitby and her people with knightly valor while the evil puppetmaster that is the Church laughs from the background.”

With her free hand, she began to tug at her bangs and twirl her hair, giving off a deep sigh to calm herself down.

“You’re wrong. Boss has been honest here the whole time. His answer of ‘good will’ was far from facetious. After all, from the beginning, you’ve been actively sabotaging an intricately tied together plan to prevent further innocent deaths in Whitby and bring this entire incident to a relatively clean close. Your tantrums have been spurring that. All you’re doing is getting pissy because certain information needs to be restricted to higher up the chain of command that you’re not a part of.”

As if to seal off her ablative words, she laid one final cut for the knights’ defiance.

“The people here most getting in the way of any efforts to protect the town and its people are you knights. The ones holding that chain are you all. So, please feel free to brand yourself as part of that list of enemies you so eloquently listed unless you’d like to take a moment for some actual introspection.”

A stranger intruded upon the conversation from the other side of the phone, and a conversation regarding events he had no knowledge of immediately began. However, Moore made no attempts to interject. That was not his business. Far more pressing were the words of the magicians on the other side of the phone. The words from those tricksters denigrating the pride of the knights.

«Believe it or not: I do not have any ulterior motifs.» From those words onwards, from the very beginning, everything was a sham. He repressed it with ease that only came with diligent practice, but those words lit a small flame in him, and the way the second newcomer spoke in response to Beathen's conviction only fed it. He would not act rashly, he would not move according to emotion; but as Beathen had said, honour doesn't always play to your advantage. Perhaps true defiance by action was still impossible, but silence was not an option.

"You have a funny definition of cooperation, and a stranger way of showing good will, then." Finally, just the slightest hint of emotion leaked into his voice.

"No, I suppose you truly have shown us your good will. What you've done for me was an act of charity no matter how you slice it. But cooperation?" In the process of suppressing the flame, an icy cold found its way into his words.

"This is the last place for you to be telling jokes; have some decency. You claim that we're the ones refusing to cooperate? Don't bother trying to hide it. You don't want cooperation, you want obedience. You want us to tamely listen to every command you give, you want the world to dance upon the strings you've laid out so it becomes just the way you want it to."

Liking Necessariusーmuch less Longroad himselfーwas something impossible for Moore, but he could at least accept their usefulness. He would not deny their existence. They had long since overreached their bounds as an organization, but that at least hadn't changed. Thanks to that, no matter how much dissent existed between them and the Knights, he could still work in the same quarters as them. But there was just one thing he couldn't accept, no matter what he did.

What he had accepted the existence of was the den of spiders and serpents called Necessarius. However, for them to pretend to be anything but what they wereーto act like they weren't dripping with venomーwas the greatest insult they could possibly be capable of. Certainly, to Moore at least, there was nothing in this world more repulsive than a snake pretending to be a sheep.

"I don't doubt that you, too, are acting for the people of Whitby. But don't put up any fronts about your methods. The ones refusing to communicate, sitting back in your den and giving us scraps as you see fit, are you. The ones giving us no reason to trust youーare none other than you."

"We, the Knights of England, cannot and never have accepted your methods. You might be acting for the same cause as us, but we cannot afford to blindly believe that your actions will not bring about a result that we cannot accept. That is precisely because you like to pretend you stand above us, and as you bathe in the sense of superority you gain from that act, expect the world to give you everything you want as you do nothing but take. Whether it's us knights, the citizens of this town, or even the enemies we're facing, it doesn't matter. We are not your playthings."

It was his own fault, so Moore could endure any amount of being painted as a villain. But the words of Longroad and the second newcomer alike, painting themselves as heroes, wereー"Disgusting," he said, giving his honest impression in a voice only Beathen could hear.

As Longroad extended his hand, she simply showed him the form; it was blank.

"I didn't expect this to end up being Paul's office, nor that you would be in it, so I figured I would fill it out once I got to the office."  She shrugged.  "Regarding Dawn-Colored Sunlight I will keep that in mind, but I imagine I would need to confirm that with...well, Mark, if he is willing."  That was actually fairly surprising; her interactions with Birdway, as well as what she had heard of the group, it was likely that they would stoop that low.

Still, the assumption was that Mark would be able to reply to her confirmation, but the knights were not going to let Longroad's smug comments lie.  Neither was Saravati going to let the knights insult what seemed to be her supervisor, as she had left her side, confirming Albrekka's personal suspicions and clarifying Longroad's involvement.  Still, the reveal that it was possible that Birdway didn't use the children as bait, as well as Longroad and Saravati's loyalties, helped clarify the position the town was in just a little bit more.

This was a rather perfect opportunity, actually.

"Well, I'll let you two to discuss things with the knights, seems things need to be worked out.  I'll just look around in the meantime."  With that, Albrekka simply helped herself to the office, looking at any of the books, pictures, drawers, and whatnot, though of course she didn't bother with the desk yet, as it was in use.

What was she looking for, anyway?  It was obvious; Paul's death was linked to the situation in Whitby.  Because of that, there were two possibilities that existed in the office:  one, papers describing his knowledge, or places of interest, and the other was more personal.  If his research wasn't here, either because he didn't have it in the office or because people such as Longroad hid it from view, there was more trifling items that not even Longroad would care for: pictures of his family, his home, perhaps notes or comments regarding Paul and his interactions with the police force, past cases.  In fact, the only way it was impossible to find such information was if Longroad had literally cleared the office of everything.

This would, obviously, take some time, but was likely fruitful.  If she could find the location where Paul died, which wasn't public knowledge, she could potentially find more clues.  And she was uncertain if Longroad would be willing to divulge.  It was Necessarius, after all.  Though...the idea that Longroad was willing to divulge anything to the knights was in itself curious.  Perhaps, just like with Birdway, there was more to it?

But these thoughts were simply distracting her from her work.  Perhaps something could be found in the scattered pictures and documents the late Paul Oldturf had left behind.

"I didn't expect this to end up being Paul's office, nor that you would be in it, so I figured I would fill it out once I got to the office."

The empty form was worth a cut short chuckle. Not even he had expected such a blunt and blatant move, however that was a rewarding change considering the gloominess of the situation. With himself busy talking down to the knights he didn’t find much more to add to Albrekka’s words. Rather he simply nodded her off when she announced to go checking around on her own.

Yes, he hadn’t even minded.

Proving that his focus returned entirely to the conversation at hand, into which Sara did interfere with words of her own, giving him and her group the support that was needed; only to hit a wall right away.

Words about honour were thrown about, Longroad's own belittled and even more distrust shown. None of what was spoken achieved anything. None of what he had attempted to express had been taken note of. Not a single train of thought had been set into motion. Instead it had just been the same blabber as the entire time. Those were the knights of England for you.

«How underwhelming. I hadn’t expected you to be this quick at proving all of my points, you have my respect.»

There was no anger, no tension, only disappointment. He could place a hand on his forehead or smack it against the table, either would have been the correct option. However instead he just tried to move on, discarding the hope he had held a moment ago.

At a certain point in time he had expected the knights to grow capable of understanding the way things really worked in an incident like Whitby. He had hoped they would see through the amount of issues he had been forced to tackle, both on the information front and the political one, however that had been disproven in a few sentences. No matter what he would tell them, they wouldn’t believe blinded by their own self importance. No, they wouldn’t just leave it at that, they would go ahead insulting him just because they felt like it.

«You are most certainly the most stubborn fools I have ever met. All that talk about honour, saving the innocent, protecting the citizens, being great heroes and yet you can’t even tell an ally from an enemy or the true shape of ruin. I’d expected you to at least have the mind to see through the things placed before yourselves or even question what you find. Instead all you do is make assumptions without thoughts behind them, jumping the trigger like the muscle heads I didn’t wish to take you for. But I guess I was wrong in my hopes and expectations. Man, this is seriously tiring.»

All he had felt a moment ago was gone. He still held his pain, but beyond that there was nothing to feel when talking to these two. He’d made that clear, both by his voice and the manner he talked. They were no longer important.

«Fine fine. If you really think you can handle everything by yourselves, I won’t stop you. Go ahead. Try save the world. Chase the call of glory. But don’t ever forget, you’re free now, no one’s gonna watch your backs. So if you fuck up, all’ll be on you.»

That was his conclusion. He’d no longer bother communicating, if the other side held the understanding of a grade schooler. A single warning would be all he’d leave them, that was it. If they’d understand the true meaning, they’d worry, but he didn’t expect any of that anymore.

«Right…right…it’s about time for them to arrive. At least try to be nice to them, will ya? Thanks. Break a leg~!»

Not even taking a break anywhere in between his words, denying them any chance for a retort, he’d simply cut the line the next instance.

…

Right after a long sigh escaped his lungs, as he turned towards the sole girl left to stand before him. A soft smile formed on his lips as he eyed her, then it transformed into a grin, then a short chuckle followed.

«Seriously that was a drag. Thanks for helping out your old boss~! You’ve made yourself deserve a burger, hahaha. Veggie right?»

Switching the moods just like that, the scruffy poncho police officer began to rummage inside of his pocket, tossing a neatly packed semi-hot item the girl’s way just a moment later. Wrapped in two layers of good old classic paper her non-meat meat sandwich would await surprisingly fresh and tasty. The reward of the kings, or something like that.

«Sadly you won’t be getting a break. Now that you’ve brought me the girl I already have another job for you. Head for the Russians’, tell ’em we’d like to cooperate. But don’t mention anything about that Ambroise, K?»

Just like that the mood had changed yet again. From a friendly amused smile to a serious sharp glance. Richmond Longroad was a man as strange as they could be…

Beep beep beep

There were no words for any of this. Entirely dumfounded Bláthín Neve stood on her spot still holding onto the now pointless flip phone. She’d never seen anything like this and she’d never thought to see it from people claiming to be high ranked authorities. Was this for real? It couldn’t be, could it?

She’d fall silent for a moment, collect her thoughts, then glance at the two men she’d designated as thugs before. Now she was entirely sure. Those guys were indeed thugs. Dumb thugs even.

«Seriously? SERIOUSLY? No seriously…what? What is your problem goddammit?! God why are adults such retards?!»

Shaking her head the girl put away the cellphone. She for some reason felt the urge to explode well up even stronger than before, yet again she also felt like behaving like an adult and burying that for the sake of other’s. Paula, Ronny and their friends, those were the ones that truly mattered. Not the adults’ shit talk. Not their stupid unnecessary arguments.

She just shook it off, rejecting the tension of this moment and the fact that she was currently standing on the same ground as someone who’d technically had been labeled an enemy indirectly. After all their groups’ ties had been severed, at least in terms of this incident.

For now something entirely different should matter. The children’s future. Eying the two by her side carefully, she tried calming them with soft smile and grimaces, knowing fully well that it wouldn’t cut it. She also couldn’t let things move on like they did right now. Especially not with how the situation had turned out to be. She didn’t know for sure, but could tell that those two in the lead would likely attempt to take away the children in an overly self-conscious sense of rightfulness; something she could not permit for their sake.

She was getting prepared mentally when…

Suddenly a chance occurred. A new presence entered the storage hall’s ruins.

With quick steps and under heavy breath their hurry brought them to the large space’s center.

«Excuse us. I hope we are not too late. The way out here was a rather tough one, yet we tried our most to hurry.»

A group of women, ten in numbers, all clad in navy robes from head to toes, wearing pendant crosses around their neck and a nurse cap on their other caps. Their impression was soft, caring, faithful. They were all so much unlike that other nun, free of blood, free of murderous intents, just motherly.

Those were the nuns of the Anglican Church. Those were the members of the medical support unit sent out to return hope to the lost children’s world.


An unending ocean of paper. Paper as far the eye could reach. Here, there, everywhere. That was the state Paul Oldturf’s office was in right now. That was what Albrekka Starbright would find herself digging through this very moment.

She’d stumble upon a lot that was useless or could have been useful under right circumstances. Papers about events in Whitby, articles, summaries, maps; dossiers about people, citizens, visitors, basically everyone in town; reports on incidents, minor ones, major ones, to all attached notes on how to handle them or how they had already been dealt with. Everything could be found here and yet there was one thing that was missing, one person’s name: Paul Oldturf.

He had been like a phantom to the entire collection of knowledge belonging to that Magician, he had been a phantom to the entire office. Had it really been his or had it belonged to another man or had someone actually removed the important contents?

In the end, however, something was there.

It was neither among the stacks nor in the shelves. It had fallen underneath the latter, down into a corner where it remained seen by none. And yet it was there. A plain notebook, waiting to be found.

"He was acting odd? Could you explain what was out of the ordinary about him? And have you tried contacting his new wife? What was her name, if you know? Or any other details he may have mentioned previously? And...what do you mean, by 'that'? Did he leave something with you, or did his last letter contain something troubling?"

After writing everything down and examining the man's explanation and furrowed eyebrows, something seemed to be off. A worldly expert in vampires who was noteworthy enough to be named by even that brat from earlier, suddenly acting odd, did something which disturbed his close friend in a notable way, and disappearing right before a so-called vampire incident has drawn dangerous people from all over? And in a town he frequently haunted, to boot? It was just a hunch, and a farfetched one at that, but the mention of a marriage prompted memories of Millinda and her making vague references to her 'beloved.'

If Millinda's 'beloved' was Silas, then she might finally be onto something. These details were not coincidences; once one begins to unravel something, more and more is revealed to be tied up in it. Could this be her first step into that unraveling? Not that this was her sole clue, but the possibility of a big catch would not be overlooked.

"And besides that, are there any other places or people he's known to associate with in this town? Old haunts, the Abbey itself, subordinates or contacts concerning his realm of study? Perhaps even additional friends? If so, we should check them out immediately for answers. And...this may be hard to think about, but is it possible he went under any other names, pseudonyms? Lived a double life of some kind?"

The young knight listened throughout, but he didn't comment further on what had been said when Longroad symbolically cut ties by just hanging up. While Alexander wasn't exactly happy with his part of the breakdown in relations the exchange fell oddly down to the dividing lines. He thought about what had been said as he finished healing Henry Moore to a satisfying standard.

"There that should--" Alexander had said as a pain struck his head, the sudden headache was a reactionary response that indicated a toll had been paid to heal Moore. It was like that Alexander takes the pain from others and shoulders that burden upon himself sapping his mental strength each time.

Knowing this Alexander couldn't completely heal Henry Moore who also knew about the limits of his ability, it's why it would be irrational to heal every knight here. Though with Moore alone recovered he was strong enough to handle any possible threats imaginable while waiting for reinforcements to arrive and help move the others.

It would be a slow withdraw as the healing process would probably take longer, since going from each knight to the next would increasingly increase the toll and time taken. Also, there was a point Alexander wasn't going to sap his strength at this stage needlessly. He wanted to make sure those children reach someone safe, but how would be a question that would answer itself as new arrivals almost crack his stoic expression with a sense of disappointment with himself.

A group of nuns which Alexander quickly identified as members of the Anglican church hadn't raised any alarms, actually just from seeing them the young knight knew exactly who these nuns were from experience. In the United Kingdom children going missing is a significant issue and while there was a straggling thought Ambroise's little group had a hand in it. It was considered impossible that they are the sole cause. This problem was a deep rooted issue that has been going on for many generations, and something was happening beyond the actions of one group. It was a problem with today's society and mentality, but that was a conversation for the halls of debate and not the landscape of a living hell.

Either way, Alexander had dealt with this on a small scale. Not all end though with a happy note as once a certain time has passed it becomes almost impossible to track missing people in general. But when they were found or recovered there has always seemed to be nuns who take over to look after them.

Something which his father often invited to do and Alexander had never questioned it. So from his understanding, his father taught him earlier on the usefulness of allowing other groups doing what they can more efficiently than a military organisation. The public image and identity of the church had a lot of connections with charity work, so Alexander had imminently understood from seeing these nuns they were here to help the children.

But there were concerns which kind nuns can't sort out, there were many questions left unanswered and the state of that was partly the knight's mentality. However, there were strings that Alexander could grasp and that started with confirming just what these nuns intended to do to with these kids.

So walking calmly to meet them, but not getting in their way so they can continue to do what they had planned. The young knight respectfully nodded before asking the opening question to a conversation he wants to have with them.

"What do you exactly intend to do with these children?" Alexander said breaking his stoic expression showing he genuinely cared.

Behind all that political infighting and the enmity and lack of trust that almost seemed uncharacteristic of the knights, Mark Space still stood. It was almost as if he had been forgotten in that verbal chaos.

Though, in all likelihood, that was probably for the best.

Knowing the Anglican Church, they had a surprising amount of control here and would likely send in some form of reinforcements at any minute. There was no more new information to be had and the political struggle was not enough to hold his interest or need to stay. After all, there likely was no chance any new information that would be divulged.

There could definitely be much worse outcomes for this.

He had already given the young green-haired girl all the information she would get on the orphans’ status from here.

In the end, was there anything really left for that man to do here? Was there anything tying him to this warehouse?

Though, I guess there is that…

---

“Mm-hmm.” She made a single grunt of approval as her superior offered her a burger. Luckily, he seemed to remember that she deemed herself to not be a carnivore, so that was nice.

Catching the lightly tossed offering of a veggie burger, Sara decided it was best not to let the food go to waste so she opened up the wrapping and began to chow down on it.

As she continued to bite down on what was definitely a tasty morsel, she began to wonder about what would happen to the knights. They refused to take her advice to have a little introspective moment in the end so things were definitely not going to go easy for them in the slightest anymore.

Really, pride can be such an annoying wall…

But, before she could muse any further, her superior had decided to give her a new set of orders.

The Russians, huh. Guess Annihilatus wouldn’t be a bad choice for this kind of incident.

“Gassha, Gassh--” In embarrassment, the girl realized that she was trying to talk with her mouth full and cut herself off to swallow the food that was in her mouth. “Gotcha. I’ll be off, then~”

Being a conversationalist was truly useful for these kinds of less combat-intensive jobs.

As she finished the last bits of that burger, she walked out the door and tossed the now empty wrapping into a nearby rubbish bun and waved, leaving Albrekka and Longroad to themselves.

“Now then~” She muttered, stretching her arms as she walked out of the police station.

---

When the nuns came in, there was no longer any sign of the second in command of the most feared Golden Cabal.

The spot where he had once stood was now occupied by a single sleeping orphan girl, the one named Diana. In the end, under the care of the Anglican nuns was likely the best place for her at the moment.

However, the two who had saved her were nowhere to be seen in the vicinity.

It was like a heavy burden falling off of Bláthín’s heart. The nuns’ arrival came in like the ray of hope she had been longing to grasp this entire time. Even with all that cold, unmindful talk of the adults something good had come as the final outcome. Looking at the timing of their arrival and that man’s last words, she could easily tell that this had been his intention from the start. He’d never mentioned it, not talked about it, because there was no need for him to. He just had acted on a whim, probably back when the connection had cut, already ensuring a happy end.

«Why did I ever doubt that bastard? He’s an asshole, but even he’s a bit caring, huh?»

A soft smile formed on her lips as she thought loudly, then did the very same thing Beathen did: Approach them for a greeting.

«What do you exactly intend to do with these children?»

She’d been a tiny bit worried when the knight had decided to make the first move, yet the way he voiced his inquiry blew the negative mood away for a bit. In the end, no matter how ugly their stance, they were still on the same side for that matter.

The nun in the lead, voluptuous, overly female, the most motherly of the group, gave a soft smile as the knight approached. There was no fear, worry or even dissatisfaction. They likely hadn’t even heard about the other incident. Good.

«The sole acceptable action: Save them. The Lord’s will is for all to be saved and brought back onto the path of light. Solely from the looks of this place we can tell that what happened here must have been equal to hell. A hell no child should ever have seen. Thus we will have to heal not only their physical wounds, but those to the mind as well, so that in the end they can return to smiling happily.»

Her voice was like the ring of bells, the way she spoke her words was entirely soft and filled with an attitude that showed her positive belief. Unlike the man in control of the operation ill will or hidden intentions could never be attributed to this woman. That was the kind of person Sister Celine was.

«Furthermore, it seems your men are also in need of our care. Understand, that while we will take the children with us to the our headquarters, the safest place in Whitby, we will try to help your comrades recover before that.»

No hostility, no madness, no bad intentions. She’d just announce all she had on her mind, slowly and calmingly. It was as if even her manner of speech was already an act of healing, sweeping away all darkness corrupting the mind.

As she concluded, the other nuns gathered behind her spread out, making their way to both the children and the adults, making sure to save everyone with equal dedication.

It was an odd warmth to the fairy girl, but she didn’t mind. She wouldn’t interfere, but instead remain in the background, not dropping the bomb of the current situation between the knights and the church. Instead she just gave the two dumbest thugs a smug grin, rubbing her obvious superiority due to not dragging the situation down for whatever selfish reasons straight into their faces.

«So how long till we can have them brought to safety?»

«It shouldn’t take anything more than 30 minutes for us to give sufficient aid to everyone present. From then onwards they should be able to move freely again, then we will guide them to the church. However…»

«I’ll have your back. My job here seems to be done either way, so I’d be glad to help them in any way I can…siigh…I wish I was more useful than that…»

«You do not have to worry. Everyone has a use in their own sense. The Lord wouldn’t have brought you here and given you those feelings if it wasn’t for that. Your worry alone gave them the strength to stay strong. Haven’t you noticed their faces?»

It had never occurred to her before, but when she glanced at Paula and Ronny who were currently under the care of one of the sisters, she could see how they were still looking her way, tears in their eyes, but hidden among that worry and a glimpse of determination.

Had they really been sticking with her not only because they felt safe by her side, but because they thought she needed their strength as well?


Only a moment later, Nate Fours felt something in his mind disagree with the accidental slip of words he’d left the girl with, looking at how quickly she had leashed onto it. Then again, he had settled on helping her situation by sharing what he knew, even if it meant giving out information his friend wouldn't have wanted him talk about.

Also, it had been far too late already.

«Usually Silas would have been a laid back and calm person, even though odd, but last time I saw him he seemed overly worried over something. Yes, he was often thinking loudly and eager, but back there he seemed rather afraid. I think he even mentioned that someone was after him, so he gave me that. Something I should keep hidden for him, until he would come to retrieve it again.»

From one moment to the other the old man seemed oddly thoughtful himself. It seemed he had never found an answer to his friend’s situation, yet remained caring for him all this time, even after a year. It was like he was praying for that man’s safety inside his mind.

«What exactly it is I can not tell you, since I do not know myself. What he handed me is a sealed box with unknown contents. Something I would never even attempt to pry into, as you may understand. However, I do need to admit that it felt somewhat gloomy. A terrifying thing, most certainly.»

Her further questions on people aligned with Silas he could only answer by shaking his head.

«Silas never talked about others or introduced others to me. That is why I do not know his wife’s name or even any way to contact her. It was just him and him alone I knew from his world. It felt a lot like there was a definite line separating both of ours.»

Silence again. Thinking.

«Then again…there have been people approaching me these days. People, odd like him, asking questions about him, but unlike with you I kept sending them away without any proper answers.»

Then he finally leaned back into his chair, giving off signs of exhaustion, as if to announce he had done all in his might to answer everything he found himself capable of answering. Looking at the amount that had been thrown at him that was only understandable.

«There weren’t many places he liked to visit. It was usually just the museum, the abbey and the graveyard. Like I said he is an odd one…I think in retrospect I should have tried finding out more about him. He talked and talked a lot, but I never saw the man beyond his interests and what connected us. If I only knew more I could help you more…or could have helped him…»