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“No, I’m afraid not,” he replied, ‘-why are the students giving the side-eye?’

“My bad,” she exhaled, “-it’s just I had hoped to see him again.”

“Why?”

“It’s about Eira,” she gasped, “-well, not matter, she’s not likely to talk to her old classmates now is she. Empress of Alphia must have much on her plate,” said a vacant smile, “-I apologize for bothering,” she turned, her arms relaxed and back hunched slightly.

“Hold on a moment.”

“...” a distant gaze matched his, in a way, her face told she had moved on to another matter.

.....

“If you wish to speak to the empress, then by all mean,” éclair understood the intent, her number dialed automatically. “Hello?” said the other end.

“Hello big sister,” he cheered, “-Igna here, long time no see.”

“IGNA!” yelled across, he distanced himself from the phone, “-WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN!” cried through and through.

‘What’s this about?’ read across Mille’s face. He nodded in reassurance, waiting for the onslaught of words to end, “-are you done?” returned when the volume lowered.

“Yes,” she audibly exhaled, “-why did you call?”

“I’d like for you to speak to someone,” without further ado, he handed over the phone. The duo exchanged words till Mille’s lack of focus and interest heightened, her pitch rose in with greater energy. She immediately headed into the campus, he followed, not too close nor too far, at the right distance to not arise suspicion. Meanwhile, the ladies reminisced, he dug up the profiles of the princess’s classmate. The unexpected trail ended on a timidly reserved garden, Mille went back and forth between crates of cut flowers.

‘Mille Stalin, a prodigy, the first lady who cracked the Esoplam Rule of Attenuation. The latter is, let’s see, I get it, the process in which the converted energy is lost during transference. She found a way to lower the resistance, very impressive. No wonder the University scouted her, she’s an eccentric researcher, not that I’ve seen any of her peculiar sides. The others are gone, no records on the boys, some of them, dead or missing. Ysmay Mallkin, where’s her...’ he searched till a hit, ‘-Ysmay Mallkin, Anastasia Whitstar, Kim Lone Franquet, Timothy Clark, Fletcher Vega, Harold Cumber, Simone Styles, and Tony Parker – students of the 50th graduating class at Claireville Academy were reported dead, the only survivors being Eira Haggard and Mille Stalin. The report says on the morning of the 25th of March, during a good faith visit to the Azure Wall, a meteor from unknown origin, crash-landed; killing hundreds of adventurers in what was described as, Kiel’s Fall. Search parties have swept the area to no avail, the 27th arrived, monsters attacked in full, any hope of survivors was abandoned. Princess Eira ordered for the search to be halted personally, in spite of her friend’s death, she strode forth, concerned by the safety of the populous.’

A black rectangle loomed into the closed field of vision, “-here,” said Stalin, “-thank you for that,” she smiled, “-I can finally put my worries behind. It wasn’t her fault, the projectile came suddenly, I-I, never mind. She told me to relay this message, ‘-fly to Alphia when you’re able, I need to give thee a stern talking too’.”

An unlikely personage stumbled into his life, such was the journey and point of the many ventures made. Hands in the pocket, he ambled to the nearest bus stop, took the transit for the airport, and arrived shortly at the airfield. The walkways followed the road where which lain a long line of halted cars. Each waited patiently for a chance to cut into the parking lot. The current location, the Rotherham airport, is one of the bigger facilities where trading and commons flights were sent and received.

Leading in, one must either talk the expansive road or make for a flyover shy of the gated restricted entrance to the runway.

‘-Seeing her talk with big sisters made me remember the friends... no, not friends, perhaps, acquaintances? yes, them, they who I met at the adventuring academy. I wonder what’s happened to them, hold on a moment, wasn’t there... Prophecy, she ran away from Queen Shanna and started life anew. I did sort of depart from their lives, I wonder,’ a blue-haired lady dressed in a black suit came from the town, fighting against the wind. She pressed her sunglasses to her glabella and smirked. The buildings in the vague distance added to her figure, each movement held power and authority – meanwhile, Igna stood shy of the flyover, the stairs led up and over. Awaiting cars, upon the signal turned green, split either left or right, drove under the overpass, and were lost in the complex layout of the terminal.

“Hello again, Igna,” said she easing to a stop.

“Hello, Fenrir, I see you prefer pants and shirt as opposed to the more feminine choice of attire?” bystanders watched curiously at the elegantly dressed lady.

“Men’s clothes are much better,” she held a leather case, “-should we head out?”

“Over here, master,” hailed a voice towards the left, they turned the corner to a group of suited men standing under a supporting pillar.

“éclair,” they gathered at the same place, concrete ground, full crowds, and jammed roads, “-this place sure is popular.”

“If I remember right, this is the first time visiting, right?”

“Yes,” he replied, “-we normally take cars and make for the private airfield further north. Why did we have to meet here?”

“We’ve run into a few problems. Our private jets were commandeered by Midas, the director of security wanted to include the new AFR and upgrade the weapons, maintenance, and whatnot.”

“I get it,” he smiled, “-where’s Julius, I haven’t seen him?”

“The prince is on a business trip to Dreqai, seaport Danzai to be precise. Master, Alta wished to discuss Glenda’s future.”

“I’ll handle the matter of statecraft when I return from the expedition. I expect my hard work to be implemented, understood?”

“Yes, master, I shall get right on it.”

Fenrir’s leather case held plane tickets for Oriaon – the trading hub of Oxshield South. Before much longer, they were onboard a lesser crowded plane, the takeoff followed without hassle. The window seat provided a nice view, a glance to the right, where Fenrir waited, showed her in deep slumber. Therein, a notification from an acquaintance read, “-dear Igna Haggard, Count Stark speaking. I wish for thee to read this article,” it linked to a differing page, “Casefile 89 -The Royal Conspiracy, written by Count Stark.”

“I begin my summation of the story on a particular message I received a few weeks ago. The letter the following, ‘-dear Lord Stark, tis come to our attention a few of our associates have gone missing. Those who spoke ill of her majesty, view under close prejudice, have chosen to keep their mouths shut on the matter. Alas, tis not within my morale to keep such a malicious ploy to remain undiscovered. Please, whatever the price may be, my associates and I are willing to pay full recompensating for the following endeavor. We implore to thy intellect and world-renowned skill,’ although I keep a strict policy of accepting jobs which are under law whereby, I know the crimes and criminals are sentenced accordingly, the seal, noble in nature and from the continent of Hidros, drew my curiosity. I accepted the job and made for the continent, there, upon meeting with the employer, I learned of a greater, possibly deathly, code-of-conduct people in the know must abide by and follow. Various lunches I held, whereby, lady Katherine Goldberg, vividly remains, particularly, her way of disclosing information without so much flinching an eye. The letter I received and when I ask for her written consent to use her testimony, led to a blatantly obvious truth, she was the secretive employer. A noble daughter of the Goldberg dynasty. Her obsession with the facts and how the murders were reported greatly benefited the investigation. For ones, the statements were true and we grew to spend much time in each other’s company. I began on the streets of Rosespire, inside the outlier districts where one of the only three bodies were recovered. Public safety didn’t like the idea of a private investigator hanging around their territory. Regardless, I spoke to locals and learned of a secretive organization, the D.G. They but had one thing to say, ‘-if people are dead, it’s them.’ The statement wouldn’t ring true till a strange interview with a man named, Azal, most probably a nickname. In our parle, when I confronted him of having played a part in the murder of Baron Ogusta, he casually placed his revolver upon the table and relaxed. The glare he gave remains with me to this day; I was surrounded, and without my usual planning, I had to admit defeat. ‘A man of your intellect should know better. Take my advice, forget Baron Ogusta, focus on the third disappearance; after all, we’d like to clear our name as well.’ I asked for a lead, he remained silent. The second name, Uie Gaham, a reporter working for the Starrie Gazette went viral, damming proof of his affection to the younger demography blasted his name over the Arcanum, rendering his investigations into big names such as; Piers Riverty, the king, Empress of Alphia, and Aceline, the pride of Hidros, who’d recently made a return, useless. He was found dead, hanged, and pronounced a suicide. The body was cremated and the case file was conveniently lost. Every step I made; the world seem to counter. I must confess, in the decades I’ve worked this line, I have never come across such a complex maze of dead ends and leads, the more logical and attention to details I took, the tighter grew the roads till I was inevitably left stranded, unable to think nor act. I spend the long months working for an acquaintance I made, I solved their cases and they gave me access to the restricted cases. The winds of change blew on a cold evening, I took the train to Riverwood upon receiving news about a newly discovered body, the victim, aged 17 and working in the court of Viscount Jenao, was found mutilated in clinical fashion inside a sugar cane field. I drew the conclusion of the body not being related at first, then, revelation hit, and I have to admit, was a lucky guess, the nobles and victims were affiliated in some way or another to the D.G. Also, the victims had spoken badly about the leadership at one point in time. Where there is distrust, there is revolt – I returned the very same day on the train and met a curious individual, Casefile 88 – Murder on the Riverwood Train, has more information on the matter. The story went a particular road, therefore, I observed a pattern, not purely blasphemous to the crown; but also, tied to adversaries of the Goldbergs. Without proof, there isn’t much to say save my last confrontation with lady Goldberg, my employer who knew who did the murders and who was responsible. She wanted someone of caliber to investigate the trail and verify the astuteness of the fa?ade. My suspicions were confirmed, which I sadly cannot reveal under oath. Sad to say, I could only link the murders to the D.G, tis all I can say. The mystery is yet to be solved, I was bested, Hidros is a very interesting continent. I know of the real people, and for my own safety, will remain silent.’