The Three Ouellets

[The International]

The Three Ouellets


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Fact
All locations in this quest exist, including Ankhas, Ettermire, and the Fields of Khu'fein. All historical events and lore are canonically confirmed by Alerar - The Basics The Timeline of Althanas and The Codex of Thayne Lore. This quest is simply an expansion of some of those events.

All bunnying has been planned and approved.

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“We are not interrogating you!”

“Yes you are!”

“No! We just want to know more about you. We're tired of this. We're tired of the same vague story of your past. We want to know more!” Maelle said to her mother in a raised voice. “Do we have aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents? When are we going to get to know?”

“You won't get to know anything at all at the rate you're going!” Alix's emerald eyes grew wide and she retreated across the main deck of The International to finish her share of the ship work. Even in her roused emotional state, she was able to float across the hardwood floor with uncanny grace. “Your father and I have told you everything we can within safe boundaries.”

“But which part of it is a lie?” A quiet but piercing voice emerged beside Alix. She looked up to see her middle child's sinister smirk. Ludivine continued as she tied a rope along the bowsprit of the ship. “It's one thing to withhold information, but to lie to your own children... Tisk tisk. So which part is it?”

Alix remained silent as she scrubbed down the chrome railing of the ship. “The original name of this ship couldn't have been The International.” Ludivine said. Alix continued to ignore. “This ship in all its might is too solid to be as old as you say it is.” Ludivine went on and Alix continued to scrub. “Is it your age you're lying about?” Alix froze.

“Now that was a low blow, Lu.” Esme finally intervened as he and Vespasian sat at the edge of the ship's helm overlooking the action. “You didn't say that because it may have been a lie. You said that to insult your mother, which I will not tolerate. A healthy curiosity about your heritage is understandable and acceptable, but save the verbal attacks for your enemies.”

“I'm glad you could finally step in, dearest husband of mine.” Alix said as she threw the used cloth overboard. She decided not to turn around. Instead she decided to distract herself with the beautiful view of Etheria Port. Hopefully the earthen hues, the golden sunset, and the less than savory smells of the busy harbor would calm her down. And perhaps keeping her back turned towards her eldest daughter Maelle would keep the truth hidden.

Maelle was an especially talented interrogator because she didn't have to pressure her targets into telling her the truth. With her background in applied psychology she could spot if anyone was lying to her, she could find the emotion behind the words, and from there she could simply use deductive reasoning. However, a good spy, like every single member of the Villeneuve family was able to throw her off with proper acting and inserting a bit of truth into their lies if they ever saw it fit to lie to each other, which was a rare occurrence. Maelle couldn't get past her mother's wall unless she could get an emotional rise out of her, which she had already done by double teaming her alongside Ludivine, the black sheep of the family. It didn't help Alix that her husband and son simply watched from above in apparent amusement. With all of this around her, the Villeneuve Matriarch was too angry to meticulously watch her body language, eye contact, and voice tonality the way she needed to.

“By the way, honey, I am helping. I'm distracting the boy. If he was involved it would be Hell for you, so you're welcome.” Vespasian handed him a paper bag from which he extracted potato chips of blue hue. He stuffed a handful in his mouth and spoke with a muffled enunciation. “These are some good chips. A little bit sweeter than the conventional kind. Only in Alerar, eh?”

“What nations did the the two of you hail from, mother? Just give us something, please.” Maelle said in a calm voice. It was almost as if she was allowing some sort of catharsis to enter the arena of emotion. “Was it Corone, Alerar, Raiaera? We just know that given the lives we lead, we could loose the two of you tomorrow. I believe I even speak for Vespasian when I say we don't want to have to wonder for the rest of our lives. We love you. Put some thought into it. We've got a mission to go to.”

Maelle made her exit and her other siblings followed behind. Esme joined his wife at the edge of the ship as she ran her fingers through her auburn hair. He rested his hand on Alix's back as the two of them watched their three children disappear into the sea chaos that was Etheria Port. “You knew that was going to happen sooner or later, right.”

“Yea.” Alix said as she sighed in relief. She lay her head on Esme's shoulder. “I suspect this little mission of theirs is a front. They're going to find out about us. My worry is how much are they going to find out?”

“To find out every detail of our lives before we met would lead them into some dangerous territory that even they wouldn't dare cross into.” Esme said as he comforted his wife. “They're smart. They could just as easily wait for the right moment, and that moment certainly isn't right now.”

“I just can't believe Maelle.” Alix said with a sigh. “I would have expected some kind of antagonism like this from Ludivine, but Maelle? That surprised me. It was an unconventional tactic.”

“And which one of our children is good with the unconventional tactics?” Esme said with a laugh.

Alix straightened up as she folded her arms. “Vespasian! Do you think he's behind it this time?”

“Yes. I do.” Esme turned and paced towards the middle of the ship. “This will be the first time, as far as we know, that Vespasian has been involved in the investigation. You and I have done a very good job of raising three very capable children. I have a feeling that together they're going to make some real headway.”

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With his eyes closed and his ears more or less deafened, Vespasian was able to take in the full pleasure of his drink. As he tilted his head back his nose was able to fit conveniently within the rim of a large wine glass. His nostrils became filled with Khu’fein blackberries, Kachuck minerals, and Ettermire tar. His tongue followed suit as it explored a wealth of complexity with layers of velvety soft fruit and cedar flavors. Vespasian enjoyed his first sip and returned back to the real world. He opened his eyes to the smiling bartender as he peeked above the black liquid glass, and opened his ears to the symphony of organized chaos around him though his immediate company was silent.

“Bwael. Bwael.” Vespasian said with a sultry smile as he raised his glass to the ashen bartender. His pointy ears flickered in excitement. “I’ll pay you extra to take the glasses along with us. We’re due for the next rail car.”

“Go. The glass is on me.” The bartender said with a thick Aleraran accent. The land’s language was a beautiful one, but these people could make Trade sound abstract. “I dare not hold my favorite three Humans back, eh.”

“Thanks, Jhinrae.” The three said in unison as they left the local inn and reentered the wave of activity outside. They made their way towards the rising pillars of smoke in the distance. That’s where their ride to Ettermire would be.

“So, Maelle,” Vespasian said as he led the trio through the crowd while amazingly holding the glass of red wine still. “What’d you get?”

“You’re not going to believe this. Our two Human parents were born into noble families of two very not Human countries.” Maelle said before she took a sip of the platinum liquid that was her sweet plum wine.

“So we’ve been looking in the wrong places all these years?” Ludivine said as she grasped her bronze glass of whiskey. “Salvar and Corone would be the only Althanas countries with an established lineage of Human nobility. Were Mother and Father even nobility?”

“That part was the truth. When I asked about Salvar and Corone earlier in the confrontation, the corner of Mother’s mouth twitched. It was like a half second smile, which meant I was going in the wrong direction and she enjoyed sending me on a wild goose chase. It’s when I mentioned Alerar and Raiaera that her body language became reclusive. Did you two notice that?”

“No. We don’t notice half the things you do.” Ludivine said with a roll of her jade eyes. “But if you’re right that begs a question. Are the two people we know today occupying the original form they were born in?”

“The answer to that is no.” Maelle said as a mischievous smile more worthy of her younger siblings emerged. “Lu, you were on to something when you hounded Mother about the age of the ship and her age. So much so that Father saw it fit to intervene. They’ve been lying about their age and the ship’s age. It’s safe to assume that they acquired a new ship before I was born at the latest.”

“Alright. This changes our approach.” Vespasian could imagine that. Each member of the family had in their possession a small sketchbook containing drawings of different Althanas peoples. When they looked upon these drawings and lay to rest they would wake up as said person. This was not illusionary magic, this was complete and utter biological transformation, which was confirmed on a recent mission when Vespasian used a secret Aleraran invention to examine his own cells. If a Villeneuve’s biology was changed then their age was changed as well, and their parents could have cheated natural death for thousands of years. “Does everything else in the story check out?”

“As far as I can tell. They met each other, fell in love, faked their death by way of house fire but were too hasty to leave any kind of body behind. But now we have a potential of thousands of years to look into.” Maelle paused and her face suddenly grew somber and her amber eyes seemed to gloss over. “I feel bad about the way I did that to her. I knew I would have been able to do that for years now, but I didn’t do it. She’s our Mother, not our target.”

“I know.” Vespasian placed a hand on Maelle’s shoulder and looked at Ludivine with a face of gratitude. “If I could have done it I wouldn’t have put the two of you up to it. We’ve made some real progress already. I promise your actions won’t be in vain.”

“Where are we going?” Ludivine said as the three passed under a wrought steel archway. Before them stood a colossal chain of wooden boxes that stretched further than the eye could see. They had windows, roofs, and giant steel wheels. There was a strange smell, a smell of something burning, but it was a mystery as to exactly what it was.

“We’re still going to Ankhas.” Vespasian said as he flashed a piece of paper to a guard clad in the colors of his nation. “This revelation won’t change our plans too much.”

:::::

Two days later the Villeneuves entered the South entrance of the Library of Ettermire. The great azure lit dome of the library hung far above them almost mimicking the sky itself. They could tell they were in a library for as soon as they stepped in Maelle’s sensitive nose took in the dust of a thousand years and reacted in a sneeze more befitting an Orc. Her younger siblings nearly leaped out of their grey cloaks, just as she almost exploded out of her own.

“So what’s the plan?” Ludivine said as she floated silently into a valley of bookcases. She became satiated in the shadow caused by the tall structure. “What are we looking for?”

“We’re looking for the cold cases, preferably the ones dealing with arson.” Vespasian said as he took in his surroundings and handed Maelle a handkerchief.

“Fire is very common in an industrial nation.” Maelle took the cloth and wiped her nose. “There must be thousands of reported cases, and that’s not counting the ones that may not have been reported.”

“Well then let me help you out. We’re looking for a case of unsolved arson regarding a noble residence where a body was never found between fifty years ago and seventy five hundred years ago. Be lenient with your Aleraran vocabulary. I don’t think the word arson goes back too far.”

“What!?” The two women said in unison.

“I know that sounds like a lot.” Vespasian said with his hands in the air. “But it’s not when you look at the numbers. The nobility of Alerar has always occupied half a percentage point of the population. That’s at most eighty thousand Dark Elves with a life expectancy of five to six thousand years, a notoriously high socioeconomic status, and a birthrate of approximately two surviving children per mother. Add that with suspicious arson with a body missing and we’ll have narrowed it down quite a bit.”

“This was your plan?” Ludivine said from the shadows. Vespasian could see her cloaked silhouette and could tell she had her hands on her hips. He simply nodded. “In that case we’re going to need some assistance. Does this library have any staff?”

“I think so.” Maelle made her way across the center of the building near an immense desk, where alongside a mountain of books was a young woman of pale complexion and flat black hair. “Sjaad'ur uns'aa, lle'warin. Udos inbal natha ves dubo ilindith pholor udossta rahi, lu' udos zhahen nictus dos gumash tlu d' xxizz... Qualla. Udos orn'la tlu mal'rak wun dosst n'belaern.”

Translation
Maelle, prior reply: “Excuse me, miss. We have a very hard task on our hands, and we were hopping you could be of help. Please. We would forever be in your debt.”

[Ataraxis]

Somewhere deep in the hundred-billion-piece orchestra of grinding gears and firing neurons that was her mind, Lillian had registered a voice from the outside world as nothing more than a point of aberrant data. In her defense, it had been days since her last confabulation with another sentient entity, a dire lack of interpersonal communication that her recent stints in the library of Ettermire had done nothing to remedy. Moreover, there was an unspoken rule here in these scholar-hallowed grounds that no soul was to invade another’s intellectual space, which was, point of fact, often defined by endless stacks of books, scripts and reams of paper arranged in a generally circular array around the subject – much like the one surrounding her right now, a bulwark rarely failing. Thus, in light of that, the mere notion that someone could have actually spoken to her was ludicrous.

Just as her brain prepared to discard this seemingly-irrelevant packet of information, however, the girl’s eyes wandered up in an attempt to dispel any reasonable doubt. Much to her surprise, she instead found a comely woman with eyes like wells of amber, so brilliant at the surface yet somehow far too deep to even fathom. Lillian stared on at the stranger, almost rudely so, the endless dangling motion of her legs now stilled underneath the rosewood table. From the depths of her mind, Lillian was trawling back the woman’s request verbatim so that she could piece together a proper reply. Oddly enough, instead of answering that she did not in fact work here, as would have any self-involved scholar, the teenager decided on taking an altogether different route.

“Del heen! Lu'oh xal usstan xxizz dos? Gi, lueth udos shlu'ta telanth wun lil rivvin xanalress, ka dos hull'phir.”

Seeing the relief and delight on the older woman’s face had been a guilty pleasure for the girl, who knew all too well about her bad habit of being kind to a fault and seeking the acknowledgement of others everywhere she went. It was not the first time she had put aside her own projects to provide others her experience and expertise for such trivial reasons, and it seemed it would definitely not be the last. At this point, she shot up to a stand and rapidly sidled barefoot around the huge worktable that had been dwarfing her all this time, stopping short of her interlocutor by an arm's length. “Oh, and I’m Lillian Sesthal, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

“Likewise. My name is Maelle Ouellet, and these are my siblings, Vespasian and Ludivine,” she replied with a warm and disarming smile, distracting the girl from the fact that her brother and sister had almost given a reaction to this denomination. “We’re looking for records of any and all unresolved cases of arson that have occurred here in Alerar, within the past… seven millennia.” At that, Maelle gave her an apologetic look, the sincerity of which made the younger girl chuckle in good heart.

“You’d usually go to the constables or the dousing department for this kind of information,” Lillian began, left index tapping her chin in mild musing. Before the siblings could finish their concert of sighing and dejection, she lifted that very same finger in silent interruption, a dollish grin playing across her rosy lips. “But… every other month, they send their documents to be transcribed here at the scriptorium. You should find copies of all unclassified documents pertaining to, among other things, arson, larceny, robbery, aggravated assault, murder and workplace violence from the past few thousand years in one of the underground archives that are accessible to the public. Vault Thirty-Three, to be exact.”

Maelle positively beamed from ear to ear and her siblings expressed their glee by slapping each other’s upraised palm, a strange but entertaining gesture to Lillian. “We can’t thank you enough for this. This reflects very well on the quality of the staff here at Ankhas.”

“Oh! No, I don’t work here,” Lillian said in a hurry to clear the misunderstanding, shaking her hands and head in emphasis.

“Really? How do you remember everything about this place so well, then?”

“I-It’s not that I spend an excessive amount of my free time poring over every book I come across and perusing every nook and cranny of this library to the point of making myself sick but recovering just enough by the end of the night that I’m ready for a second wind and can thus repeat the same wearisome process over and over without actually losing grasp of my sanity or anything,” she began in one breath, “I just… I have a good memory. Really good. The, uhm… eidetic kind?”

When a decidedly long lapse of time carried without any break of silence, Lillian tried to salvage what she could, rubbing toe to ankle in discomfort as she gave the marbled floor a downcast look. “I also have a tendency to be overly verbose and circumlocutious. Sorry.”

“No! No need to apologize.” Maelle said in an assuasive tone, almost as would a mother to a child on the verge of tears. “In fact, it could really help us – your memory, that is. Would you mind assisting us for a while? I have a feeling the reference librarians here will not be capable to help us as well as you could.”

Having perfectly read the unassuming girl, Maelle had managed to align every word that could sway her to their side. “I would be glad to help,” she murmured with the dawn of a smile, until she realized she had been barefoot all this time. Sheepishly, Lillian raised an index to plead for a moment while she sidled back to her seat and recovered her boots. After slipping them on, she looked back at the trio with an adventurous beam. “Ready! Oh, and don’t worry, it’s not like these books are going to vanish while I’m away. It’s one amongst the many unspoken rules of Ankhas.” She paused to think, then said with a queasy look: “Actually, if you’re planning on coming back here one day, you should probably learn some of them.”

“Will do. Though, what is it that you’ve been studying so hard? We might be able to help you a little, to pay you back. He might not look like it, but Ves is quite adept in social sciences and mathematics.”

“Well, I’m studying the applications of superfluids on power transmission and generation as well as the slowing of light via high refractive indices, among other things. It’s all mostly theoretical right now, but I’m especially interested in using their property of overcoming friction by surface interaction to ignore gravity without loss of energy!

“But… maybe another time,” Lillian answered after yet another awkward moment. “Let me show you the way. I’ll help you look through the files, too.”

Translation
Lillian: “Of course! How may I help you? Oh, and we can talk in the common language, if you prefer.”

[The International]

Maelle performed her usual superfluous acquainting ritual as her two younger siblings sat back and watched her work her magic. What Lillian the Little Librarian may not have noticed was the subtle way Maelle matched her apologetic tone with her own shy manner, how Maelle synchronized her body language with her own reclusive movements, and how Maelle worded every statement for the intent purpose of convincing her that they were two birds of the same feather. Vespasian and Ludivine couldn't help but snicker in the distance when they heard the girl's mouth churn out words like an Aleraran engine pumped out steam. Lillian's circumlocutious language left Maelle's brain in the dust, but within a moment or two the librarian was in their service. Vespasian was able to do the same thing, but over a much longer amount of time. Ludivine never truly bothered to charm unless it was a target she intended on assassinating in bed.

Maelle's vice was being too nice for she offered Vespasian's services as a study buddy, which he wouldn't have minded until he heard what he might have had the displeasure of studying. “Hell no!” He muttered to Ludivine. “I am not studying theoretical chemistry and applied optics.”

“You knew what she was talking about?” Ludivine said as she crossed her arms and stared the girl down. “That alone warrants your obligation to study with her. I don't know what it is with you and Maelle's incessant need to negotiate. I would have just asked her to help, and if she refused I'd put a blade to her throat and ask her one more time.”

“Now why would you do that to a bite-sized version of yourself?” It was about time someone said it. This Lillian resembled Ludivine in several ways. She was petite, pale, and had long black hair just like the Villeneuve middle child. The most prominent of these similarities, however, were the eyes. Even though Ludivine's were jade and Lillian's were blue, they both had a hint of sinister intent in their stare. “You could teach her some styling tips.”

“I could feed the skinny bitch a few ham sandwiches.” Ludivine said just before the overly petite Lillian came within hearing range. She smiled and allowed the librarian to lead them down a spiral set of metal stairs that made a clanking noise with every step. She didn't much like noisy surfaces. They gave her position away.

The quartet went down three floors, and the three Ouellets, the surname Lillian now knew them by, were all doing the same thing. While on the outside it may have looked like they were taking in the sights of a new and wondrous place, on the inside they were doing what their parents taught them. They were scanning every detail and committing it to memory as best they could, counting every step it took for them to get down to the third basement floor, checking every possible exit, hiding place, and vantage point, and they were even sizing up their new friend. Paranoia was a good thing for a clandestine agent. Vault Thirty-Three wasn't really a vault, which pleased them since a vault was a tactical deathtrap. It was simply the third study room on the third floor down.

As soon as they entered Vespasian assumed lead once again. “Okay here's what we need. Maelle if you could sort out all of the unsolved arson cases regarding noble residences, Lillian if you could sort out all of the missing persons cases regarding noble identity, Ludivine and I will wait for the two of you to hand us the files and we'll see if we can find a match.”

“You'll wait. I'll wander.” Ludivine said with a scowl at her brother. He nodded in approval. She knew her true role in this trio.

Ludivine didn't have the intellectual prowess her baby brother did, nor did she have the charisma her older sister had. What she lacked in those qualities she more than made up for in combat and tactics, and she knew, just like the other two knew but sometimes forgot, that it was wise for a team to always have a lookout. What better lookout would there be than a petite little Human girl, innocently perusing the bookshelves. Who would have thought that the smallest member of the family would be considered the muscle?

Every few seconds Ludivine would peek in between bookends and around corners at the staircase and the dark corners of the room. It was a lot larger than originally thought. The room itself actually wrapped around the entire structure of the building. Thus below the first floor, where the bookshelves formed a spoke wheel around the center structure, were more wheels. That was valuable tactical information, which Ludivine kept in her mind as she continued to scout on. She ran her fingernail along the railing of the staircase they had just used, and that was when her keen ears registered several voices being carried by the curved walls. She would have paid them no mind had it not been for the obvious anxiety in their tones. Tonality was something Maelle was trying to get her to catch on to, and these voices sounded like cellos in dark tones, which she was told was a sign of anxiety. She glanced back at the vault where Vespasian was now burried in a pile of files attempting to sort them out like a jigsaw puzzle. It was almost as if he was able to read her mind for he glanced up just before she looked away. She nodded her head in the direction she was going, and he signaled confirmation.

It was time for the Little Scandal to do what she did best.

[Ataraxis]

When they had first set foot in Vault Thirty-Three, none of them had truly realized what an overwhelming task it would be to sift through an era of accumulated documents. The impeccable tidiness of the chamber was one of the foremost factors that brought on this deception; each and every of the black-marbled flagstones had been polished to nigh a mirror’s shine, and there was not a speck of dust to be seen, giving the vast archives a false measure of emptiness. Though the filing cabinets were many, they merely lined the walls like a pageant of unobtrusive adornments, their matte black panels almost melding with the backdrop. Only a massive slab of dark granite stood in the chamber’s heart to offset the illusionary void, and it was there that Maelle, Vespasian and Lillian had begun their colossal task.

They had endeavored to be efficient and diligent in their work, with Maelle flitting through all relevant cabinets on arson while Lillian search on the opposite end of the room for any case of unresolved disappearances, both focused on victims of noble lineage. Their drive had been commendable, but the more they did, the more they realized how much more was left to do. Vespasian’s growing frown noted how the piles he now had to pore through had become sizeable and ever-growing. Lillian saw his hands hover atop a stack, stopping short of the yellowed folder in dark contemplation.

“At our current rate, with an average of five minutes per cabinet drawer, with four drawers per cabinet and an estimate of fifteen relevant cabinets, it will take us up to five hours to sort out every pertinent file,” Lillian told him after a perfunctory calculation. It was no feat of observation that she had known his very thoughts: it was obvious they were all wondering the same thing. “I didn’t take into account the actual perusal and analysis of these files, naturally. Could be a few extra hours. Could be we’ll be sleeping here tonight.”

“I was afraid of that,” Vespasian muttered after a sigh, his hand smacking the folder in defeat; he had reached the very same conclusion. A deep breath later and he flipped the cover open, resuming his work with a second wind. “It might be better for us to think of a more sophisticated methodology. We’re in no particular hurry, but staying confined here well into the wee hours of the morning isn’t the most encouraging notion.”

“Lu’s got good instincts, having left when she did,” Maelle pointed out, partly amused but mostly annoyed. She leaned over the drawer again, sweeping her long, mahogany hair back with a sigh. “We should have seen it coming.”

“Um,” Lillian interjected without much conviction, feeling rather rude by interrupting. “I’m sorry, but as much as I want to help, I can’t stay for a whole night, or even five hours.” When she noticed what a blow those words had been to the two siblings, Lillian quickly corrected herself. “No! It’s not what you’re thinking. I just meant that I do have a system that could be of assistance in our current predicament. I didn’t mention it until now because… well, it’s not the most pleasant system for me.”

“That’s excellent,” Maelle said, quite relieved. “What do you need us to do?”

“This might sound demeaning but… opening and closing drawers.” After a silent round of blinking, she decided to be a thimble more elaborate. “They are quite heavy and difficult to pull for me.”

“Oh.” Though dubious, Maelle did just that, and beyond that simple act was a preternatural phenomenon.

The moment it had clanked open, Lillian produced a pair of exceptionally thin gloves from the pockets of her summer dress, gauzy little things that looked better suited on the hands of a surgeon. She slipped them on and dove into the drawer, expertly fingering the folders open and flitting through the pages without dawdling on one for more than a fraction of a second. There was an intricacy to those hundreds of minute and economic movements that reminded her of a seamstress’ hands, a deftness most unexpected in this girl. Vespasian had unknowingly risen from his seat, standing in a half-crouch as he watched her work, seeing the flitting of paper reflected into deadened eyes that processed and absorbed with the frightening efficiency of a machine.

Every once in a while, she would remove a folder she had already flitted through from the drawer and throw it atop the cabinet. Reaching the end of the drawer, she would merely draw back, watch Maelle shove the drawer to a close and pull the next out, and step in again. Every twenty five seconds or so, she would step back and step in as Maelle repeated the same motions over and over.

“Can... can you actually understand anything you read like that?” Vespasian asked after a stretch of dumbstruck silence, now wholly incredulous. “How do you even read at that speed?”

“Not reading, processing,” she replied mechanically, without losing a beat in her work. “I take pictures. Let my brain sort out the rest. Process of elimination. Discard every file that contains no mention of a royal or a noble title. Discard all remaining files whose victims are not noble. Whose bodies were found.” Though she had spoken brokenly, Lillian seemed to have been convincing enough, as Vespasian merely watched the piles accumulate, happy to see that there were still very few. A look from Maelle was all he needed to remember his own task, however, and he sat back to work on the stacks he had already been given.

A little less than twenty five minutes later, the last of the filing cabinets clanged to a close. Exhausted, Lillian propped her back on one of them, and slowly slid down to sit on the floor. Maelle herself had worked quite a sweat, and she realized that the smaller girl would have collapsed halfway through the process if she had not asked for her help.

“Twelve files, but one final step,” Lillian said between huffs and puffs as she massaged her sore forearms. Her fingers felt on fire, but at least she seemed glad to have worn her gloves. Without them, she was not sure how many pints of blood she would have lost through paper cuts. Maelle then extended her a hand, which she gladly accepted.

“Help me spread all the papers on the floor,” Lillian asked Maelle, taking all previously picked files to the spotless floor. With the little girl’s assurance that there would be no problem, they strewed them out haphazardly until each and every leaf was visible. “I require an overall view of the information remaining. Any out-of-place detail that I missed in the first run-through will become readily obvious, and can thus be discarded. I would do so mentally, but I no longer have the energy to think on that level.”

“It’s a relief to hear that: anymore and I’d have to label you a machine,” Vespasian said after pushing his chair back and exhaling all of his pent-up stress, popping a few vertebrae in the occasion. “I finished on my end: one Luana Selvis Eleriaxim, daughter of Burgraf Armand Eleriaxim. Reported missing seven hundred and eighty-eight years ago after their summer resort in Etheria Port burned down. Most everything was ash by the time fire-dousers came. The belatedness was unprecedented in their records, which might be explained by some expert tampering. No corpse found on the premises.”

“We have two, here,” Lillian called out as she carefully knelt past a dozen or so files. “First is Princess Izlav Elemmire Chath, a cousin several times removed from the king. Went missing on the first year of the Demon Wars, or 3047 of the Coronari a Lindale – about two thousand years ago. Her mansion was burned down, but surprisingly, no charred remains were discovered that could belong either to her or her servants.”

“Is this the other?” Maelle asked while pointing at a file right beneath her eyes, to which Lillian replied with a nod. “Freiherr Jaelim Valaris, missing since the late summer of 4158 C.L., about eleven hundred years before Izlav. This is probably the oddest case of the three: disappeared without a trace after the entirety of his bedroom went ablaze. The rest of his manor was intact. The report also mentions that among the list of suspects could be foreigners, since no technology in Alerar was capable of causing that kind of controlled damage, and the only magic anyone deigned to use at the time was industrial alchemy.”

“And by that, they mean Raiaerans,” Lillian added. “Their branches of magic could be the culprit, which is why they pursued this case for near a century before it went cold. Not one single similar incident in all of Alerar’s recorded history.”

“Three exceptionally suspicious cases,” Vespasian murmured, deep in musing. “Though right now, let’s just be glad there aren’t more. But… you’re certain you haven’t missed any?”

“Positive,” Lillian replied simply as she took to a stand, flattening the crimps from her dress. She then began picking up the papers strewn about, absently reorganizing them in the correct order and folders. “If by some astonishing strike of bad luck, you come to a dead-end in all three cases, I can review the whole of what I’ve looked through by adding and changing certain parameters for differing results.”

“Good to know, albeit strange to hear. Your manner of speech became unusually sedate.”

“One among the several drawbacks of this method. As I said, fairly unpleasant, but fortunately temporary.” At this, she attempted a smile, but in contrast with the deadened glaze of her eyes, it came off as unnatural and almost blood-curdling, like the fanged grin of a demented beast. Granted, a very small and frail-looking beast, but a beast nonetheless.

“Thank you so much, Lillian,” Maelle said with genuine gratitude, drawing the girl into a light embrace. “You don’t know how helpful you’ve been to us. Without you, we’d probably have gone bald looking through all this.”

“I-It’s a pleasure,” Lillian said, her pale cheeks flushing a slightly rosy hue. The feeling that she had managed to make a difference in other people’s lives, no matter how small, had always been a driving force for her. For one, it was much more promising than making a difference in her own; she had tried, very often, but to no avail. Every step further was answered by several pushes backwards, as if the universe itself was loathe to let her breathe. After living one tragedy after another and inviting misery with every attempt at company, the girl had effectively given up. Everything was a matter of catch and release – long enough for immediate satisfaction, but short enough never to get hurt. Unlike most people, Lillian could not forget, and that included the pains of the past. No wound ever scarred in her heart, and no wound truly ever stopped aching.

A crestfallen gleam had crept into her eyes just then, as her brooding and a wave of painful memories began to overwhelm her. Lillian shook herself, trying to push any resurgence of negativity back to the recesses of her mind, long enough to leave the archives without breaking down into a heap on the floor. “Well, this was fun. If you ever need any additional help, I’ll still be here for a few weeks.”

Alas, just as she was about to head for the door, it swung open with vehemence, startling the teenager. From the other side, Ludivine came rushing into the archives, a look of urgency steepled to a point in those somber jade eyes.

“Oh, no,” Maelle said after a mere glance, the rising distress clear in her expression. “You come bearing ill-tides, don’t you.”

Ludivine only nodded.

[The International]

Ludivine made her way into her prime habitat - the darkness. It was here in the shadowy abyss between the bookcases that she was at her best. Her feet became light feathers so she could not be heard. Her midnight blue attire melted into the shadows like liquid so she could not be seen. Here, in what seemed to be a higher plane of existence, Ludivine was free from all five senses available to most sentient creatures, thus she was free from all judgment. The voices became clearer as she seemed to float from shadow to shadow. It became evident that there were three of them. Two were taking a more aggressive tone, while the other was pleading. She could even make out a statement or two.

“We don't want those.” a man blurted out in a muffled growl that masked his true voice. “We want what's under the exhibit.”

“These are worth more.” an older man yelped. He had a thick accent that emphasized the consonants more than the vowels. He wasn't used to speaking Trade. “Honest.”

“In that case, we'll take them both. I don't want to use this.” the second theif, possibly a woman said. A familiar click filled Ludivine's ears. She didn't need her vision to know that someone had a firearm in their possession, but she confirmed it when she approached an opening. In the distance three figures stood around a platform on which a jewelry set was showcased.

These were the crown jewels of the late Queen Valsharess. The set included a tiara, several bracelets, and a necklace. They were minimalist compared to the outlandish jewelry even nobles below her boasted, but that was probably why they fit her so well. Valsharess was a humble, low-profile Queen who ruled from behind the curtain. Simple mythril sets with straightforward designs and pure diamond centerpieces fit the late Queen's career to a tee. The crown jewels were worth hundreds of thousands in any currency, but they were surrounded by artifacts that could have easily been worth millions. Why did these two heavily cloaked, but obviously Human men insist on taking the crown jewels? More importantly, how were they going to get out of the library knowing that security here was most tedious. There were guards at every exit, each armed with a firearm and required to check anyone who came in or out.

The Aleraran librarian knelt down on to the base of the platform and grasped its sides. The struggle in his face showed as he rotated the heavy thing counter clockwise, then pushed it aside to reveal a square hole in the floor. He reached into the hole and pulled out a black chest that he could hold with two hands. The crook raised his pistol and held it there a moment until the librarian got the picture, who then unlocked the chest with his master key and revealed an exact replica of the Crown Jewels of Valsharess. This must have been the real copy, but it was stated earlier that the replica was worth more, so why did these crooks insist on having this one?

Ludivine drifted away slowly and quietly until she was sure she was out of hearing range. It was then that she moved with more haste and alarm. She had no problem with thieves. She, being a realist, considered herself to be a thief at times. Spies were nothing but criminals working for a governing entity. Thieves, however, only wanted one thing. Money. They took things for their monetary value. Villains wanted something else, and it was obvious to her that these guys wanted more than just money from the crown jewels. That was what gave Ludivine alarm. She almost knocked the little girl over when she swung the door open.

“We have two Human malefactors armed with army issue flintlock pistols. They've come to steal the Crown Jewels, replica and original. They sounded Coronian.” Vespasian and Maelle looked at each other, then looked at her. Vespasian shrugged his shoulders. In their world they often had to let criminals get away with doing bad things because being the heroes would compromise their cover. Ludivine would have to give them something interesting. “They're thieves that don't want money!”

“Why didn't you say that in the first place?” Maelle said as she stood up. “Lillian, I take it you know the layout of this place pretty well. What would be the three best routes of escape?”

[Ataraxis]

“Uhm, wha… huh?”

Lillian was positively flummoxed by this most unusual turn of events: while the last thing she could remember with some measure of coherence was saying that she was leaving and that it was very nice to have met this only slightly suspicious trio of siblings, the girl was now being requisitioned again, this time in a role no less vulgar than that of a divining rod. Even so, she complied with their demands, focusing her thoughts on predicting what route these alleged thieves would take – something that at least required some sort of scientific basis compared to mere water witching.

“Aside from the four cardinal entrances to Ankhas, there are very few architectural points of exit. As far as I know, the windows are locked in permanence and are made of alchemically-enhanced glass, leaving only two rather than three: the emergency escape tunnel in the underground and the door leading to the rooftop, where they might slip down the rubbish chutes that were used during recent repairs.”

“Only two exits to worry about, then.” Vespasian eyed both his sisters, and a succinct exchange of either glares or gleams decided their positions. Maelle and Ludivine had already begun rushing up the spiral stairway to head for the rooftop when Lillian interrupted them.

“But it doesn’t make any sense! All library-owned items and artifacts are tagged by sorcery, and would activate the security field once they pass through it, thus alerting the guards: whichever route they choose, the alarm will sound, and the library will lock down!”

“Is that a fact?” Vespasian turned to the girl, eyebrows quirked in a mix of doubt and anxiety. “I’d assume the Crown Jewels would be surrounded by countless security measures, which means they were deactivated somehow.”

“A librarian was with them,” Ludivine shouted down from the top of the stairway, her tone laden with impatience. “If he can remove those jewels, then surely he can deactivate the field!”

“No, he can’t! Specific members of the library staff can deactivate the security measures in order to move them from display to storage and vice-versa, but that’s all: only the curator has the power to shut it down!”

“Then what?” Ludivine snarled, striking the wrought-iron banister with her palms. The jade of her eyes had focused onto Lillian’s, dark with the cold and silent rage of a professional kept from doing their job. “What bright idea do you suggest?”

“Don’t you get it?” Lillian cried out, now pulling the leash on her own rising temper. “The alarm will sound! You have proof they had a rat on their side, unwilling or not!”

“They plan on tripping the alarm!” Maelle exclaimed, finally understanding what conclusion Lillian had come to. “It’s a diversion, and if they have one accomplice, then they could easily have more!”

“You mean the guards? Then…”

“We can figure out the rest after we stop them, Ves.” At that, Ludivine disappeared behind the door leading to the ground floor, while Vespasian, Maelle and Lillian followed closely. “There, at the northern entrance: I see them!” They heard their sister utter from the front, seeing only a flitting blur as she soundlessly ran from shadow to shadow.

Lillian looked over to the arch that was the entrance, still bathed in the light sepia of an early afternoon. Approaching it were two figures, wearing cloaks of black gossamer, yet wearing their hoods down. The only one whose face she could clearly see was the taller of the two, with dark hair in a princely cut and even darker eyes – not at all the profile of a thief, but of a noble. It was while she attempted to study him that she noticed him slipping something into the duffel bag of a hurried scholar, also heading out for the northern gate.

And, just as she had predicted, the wailing of a siren flooded the library like a tidal wave. A swarm of guards thundered past them, homing in on the shrill screams of an old man in the throes of confusion. One guard had tackled him, crushing him under the weight of his armor and against the cold marble tiles. In the ruckus, she heard the clank of steel, the ruffle of cloth, the groans of struggle, and perhaps even the breaking of a few sexagenarian ribs. Lillian also heard a most unusual click – like the terse sound of an engaged mechanism. “Shield your eyes!”

There was only the ongoing wail of sirens and a wall of pure, blinding light. Then, the heavy clanging of metal bars, falling all around the library. Lillian had protected her sight in time, having once heard the particular sound of this device right before going painfully blind. When the flash was gone, she could see a number of guards with their hands clamped shut over their eyes, while the scholar and his tackler lay motionless on the floor, their sides burned to the flesh by the heat that had been given off. Of the thieves, she could find no sign.

“They’ve escaped,” she said with a defeated sigh, her shoulders slumping as she stopped to rest for a moment, breathless from the run. “The guards on their side must have slipped them out before the lockdown.”

After recovering her breath, Lillian ran ahead of the siblings, who had stopped for a reason she could not fathom. She threw herself down on her knees and crawled next to the unconscious men, to check for heartbeats. They were weak, but still alive. She lay one hand over each burn wound, careful not to touch and infect them. Before she could do anything, however, the battleaxes of the other recovered guards swooshed down to cross at her neck.

“Trying to help your accomplice?” one of them whispered, the hatred seething through his grit teeth.

“No. Just the victims.”

“Don’t even- ”

“Stop,” said the other, realization clear in his voice. In a hurry, he removed the ax head from her throat. “Let her work.”

Lillian had not even noticed when the second axe slowly drew away from her neck, so focused was she on the sorcery that was unraveling beneath the palms of her hands. When she removed them, transparent webs of darkness had overtaken the wounds, smoking black as the flesh underneath seemed to mend before their very eyes. Without even checking to see if she had successfully saved them, Lillian drew herself up to a stand, then began fishing something out of her pockets.

The first guard withered as she handed to him the seven-pointed brass star that was the Mazzra Medal of Honor – one he knew had been recently given to a civilian that had saved the library, and perhaps even all of Ettermire, from absolute ruination at the hands of otherworldly entities that had been unleashed from the heart of this very library. “You’ve been tricked. The real thieves escaped after planting a decoy artifact in this man’s bag, as well as a blinding contraption. One of the two was a man with mid-length dark hair, high cheekbones and dark eyes; he and his companion both sported a gossamer cloak – I believe many of you remember seeing them before the alarm went off, but can no longer find them. However, they also had accomplices, and I believe they were among the guards stationed at this entrance.”

“You dare question our integri– ”

“You ‘dared’ question mine, but do you see me holding it against you? This is not a hunch, this is fact. Those who had no hand in this treason must have realized this by now as well: they would never have gotten away before the barriers fell if they did not have help from the inside.” She saw the acquiescent nods from many of them, and knew there was only one thing left to say to have their full cooperation. “I am fully aware this medal gives me no real authority, but if it is proof of anything at all, it is that I hold the best interests of Ettermire at heart. I would not make these accusations were I not certain beyond the shadow of a doubt that they were true.”

“What do you need?” asked the guard that had first recognized her: he knew her well, and had been there on the day the library had been invaded. While he had not seen the girl accomplish any of the deeds that had been sung through the streets for days following that ordeal, he had seen her on the day she was given that medal - had seen her scowl at being given the mask of a mere figurehead in a ceremony that had only been a diversion to their own failings. Everyone had felt the charade, but a false or undeserving hero would either have gone along with it, or not noticed it at all. To see her use the medal with a clear statement that it symbolized nothing beyond her true desire to help, rather than as an officious mark of false authority, made him trust her enough to have it rub off on his colleagues, bit by bit.

“I apologize, but we will need to question all of you: the accomplices will know where the thieves have escaped. I know this kind of task is usually assigned to your superiors, but… you can see where following protocols would do us no good.”

[The International]

The three Ouellets stood and watched with a strange mix of amusement, wonder, and fear. They didn’t make it up to the top floor in time to become victims of a flash bomb, and as spies their first instinct was to hang back and observe before taking action, which gave them moment to observe Lillian in a rare light. In a matter of mere moments this timid little freelance librarian was able to command the respect of the entire Ankhas security detail. These were men nearly three times her size and probably centuries her senior, yet she was looking down upon all of them.

“Impressive.” Maelle leaned on the makeshift tower of pages and leather spines she found Lillian under less than an hour ago. “We should consider ourselves lucky. I'm pretty sure we would have been in the middle of a fight right now.”

“What's so bad about that?” Ludivine said as she crossed her arms. She allowed her hair to hang over one eye, which made her look even more menacing than usual. “Those thieves would be at our mercy right now, and the whole crime would have been prevented.”

“Like you have mercy to spare, Lu. You use it all to coexist with the likes of us. Besides...” Maelle's cheeky smile slowly melted away into a lifeless glare. “One of those firearms could have been used on us. One of us could have been dead.”

A moment of silence followed as a disturbing memory flooded their minds. It wasn't too long ago that Ludivine suffered a gunshot wound that nearly killed her. She was at the mercy of a corrupt Graf and his night-prowling entourage, but survived the attack. It was the next morning in the infirmary that Vespasian broke down into tears at the sight of his sister in a hospital bed. The gunshot victim herself was the first one to snap back into reality. “So what's the plan, Ves?”

“Depends.” Vespasian said as he sat on the table near Lillian's mountain of books. He watched as the girl rounded up eight guards and the rest of the security detail confiscated their arms. “Maelle, when you were interrogating Mom you said that you knew you were guessing wrong when she smiled a little, right?”

“Yes. It was only for a split second, but it let me know that I was going in the wrong direction. When people are hiding the truth they'll get a kick out of you taking wrong guesses, but they won't show it for long.”

“Do you think you could do the same thing on a larger scale here?”

“Yes, but we'd need one on one observation. Any signs of enjoyment will pop in and out in the blink of an eye. There are only three of us, and one of us is going to have to play the dummy interrogator, which leaves only two of us to observe two out of seven possible suspects.”

“Would we be able to repeat the process if we get it wrong the first time?”

“We would have to surprise them. Shock brings out truth in all. Every wall, every defense mechanism goes down when a person is surprised.” Maelle watched in admiration as Lillian continued to take charge of the security forces of Ankhas. That kind of respect was real because it was earned. All she had was fake respect brought upon by confidence tricks. She looked at Vespasian, who had a sinister grin on his face more fit for Ludivine. “You've got a plan.”

“I've got a plan. We’ll spit them up into two groups of four, and take turns interrogating them. I’ll play the decoy, and after a few moments of questioning I’ll pick out a random member of the group to accuse.”

“Make it the one complying with Lillian right now.” Maelle said as she pointed to the guard who confiscated the others’ weapons and put them out of reach. Other members of the Ankhas security force began to gather around to keep the peace. “It’s not likely he’s a traitor. That’ll shock the loyal ones and relieve the disloyal ones.”

“Will do. You two and Lillian will be there to observe the other three. We’re bound to find one, and that’s all we need.” Vespasian said as the sisters nodded in agreement. He signaled for the girl to come over. “Lillian.”

“Wait! Before we do this.” Ludivine said as she started for the opposite side of the room. She moved with such intention that it alerted the other two, and they were compelled to follow as she leaped up on top of one of the long tables. Now they knew she was preparing for something. Her ascent to a higher place was like a cobra showing its hood. She stopped in front of a Dark Elf who had just emerged from the lower floor, clad in the colors of Ankhas staff. They had never seen an Elf with eyes so wide. Ludivine wasted little time. “Why did they steal the Crown Jewels?”

“I am…” The librarian, a slender ashen Elf of adult age, was clearly still in shock. The man lived in Ettermire though. Petty crime was a part of life here. It must have been what they stole that shook him to the bone. “I am not at liberty to discuss that with you.”

Ludivine’s jade eyes widened to match the librarians, but not out of fear. This was from enthusiasm. This librarian had set her free. All she needed was for someone to not comply with her, someone to say ‘no’ so that she had the freedom to do things her way. Force and intimidation. Her right hand crossed over to her left side where the handle of her blade lay, and the sword strapped across the small of her back loosened in its scabbard. Just as she stepped to the edge of the table Maelle imprisoned her within a cell of civility once again.

“Wait.” The eldest sister said quietly as she placed her hand on Ludivine’s foot. She then turned to the librarian. They didn’t have the time to charm him into talking to them, but perhaps he would talk to a respected individual like Lillian. “Will you tell her? She has authority.”

He nodded. Ludvine’s shoulders slouched in disappointment.

“No worries, sister.” Vespasian said. “You’ll get your chance.”

“You summoned me?” The timid voice resembling a clarinet sounded from behind them Lillian had finally caught up to them, and just in time.

“Yes.” Maelle said as her face suddenly transformed into the epitome of sadness. “This poor guy was the one the robbers forced to disarm the security magic in place. He has something urgent to tell you and only you. We’re going to leave you two alone now?”

The three siblings started for the crime scene. Ludivine waited until she was out of earshot of the girl before she spoke. “Don’t we need her permission to interrogate before we actually do it?”

“She already gave us permission. Didn’t you hear her say ‘we’ when she motioned questioning? She was talking about us. Nevertheless” Vespasian said. “What she doesn’t know won’t kill her.”

Lillian smiled at her little brother's deceit while Maelle shook her head. Both followed his lead, which was becoming more and more common these days. Even though Vespasian was the least experienced spy in the family he was the most intellectually gifted and the most balanced. Everyone had their niche. For example Maelle was a fine grifter and negotiator, and Ludivine was a skilled assassin and turning out to be a good thief at times. Vespasian was turning out to be a jack of all trades, and while everyone knew how to solve a problem their way and everyone knew what they could do by themselves, he knew what they were capable of together. To them he was a mastermind even if he didn't know it yet.

“You, you, you, and you.” Vespasian said as he pointed at four of the eight suspects. “Lillian has given us authority to question everyone. We'd like to speak to the four of you first. Right this way.”

“Let's make this as quick as we possibly can.” Vespasian said as he led them out of hearing range of the others, which ended up being quite a distance due to the acoustics of the library. He had them take seats along one of the tables. He sat across from them and his sisters sat behind him leering at them one by one. “As you may know the thieves have stolen something extremely valuable to the library. Now I know this isn't saying much coming from a Human like myself, but I can guarantee you that if one of you comes clean with some information that will help us get the stolen items back we will work something out. No limbs severed, no death sentences. Jail time? Yes. But not much. We just need as much information as we can get to catch the real thieves.”

“Vespasian?” That timid little clarinet voice came chiming in once again. They looked over to see Lillian signaling for him to come. His face exuded a pleasant smile as he stood. She reminded him of an innocent version of Ludivine.

“That didn't take long at all.” He said as they walked away. “What did he need to tell you? Is it something you can tell us? Something we can use?”

“It isn't good news, but it is something you can use. Act like I'm telling you everything you need to know.” Lillian said in a lowered voice as her icy eyes pierced him with alarm. “The diamonds set in the original Crown Jewels of Valsharess were used in the Battle of Khu'fein to seal the Valinthe tribe away in the Anti Firmament more than seven thousand years ago. For generations those diamonds have been set in the Monarchs' crown jewels for who has better protection than the King or Queen. When Edari'axa took the throne he opted for a brand new set and decided not to include the diamonds, and Valsharess' set to Ankhas. Knowing the Jewels' potential a few Grafs created a replica worth more in monetary value than the originals.”

“The original set's ability makes it priceless. That King is going to be the end of this country. Thanks Lillian. You've been helpful all day.” Vespasian returned to the interrogation area where the four guards waited. His sisters hadn't uttered a word, which was a wise move. For the culprits a moment of silence was like an hour. He sat down, waited a moment, then began to dangle the bait. “We have been informed by one of the suspects that the diamonds set in the Crown Jewels of the late Queen were used in the Battle of Khu'fein. You know your history, don't you boys? It's why the Fields have such a reputation for instability. Tens of thousands of Valinthe are sitting on the other side of reality. Not dead, just trapped and angry. Your thieves are going to set them free.”

“Ves.” Maelle said. “We've got one. Lu...”

A blur of midnight blue shot across the table engulfing the guard at the far right. His chair toppled back, and he tumbled to the ground as an obsidian mist exploded into reality and buried him and his attacker in darkness. The mist was harmless, only impairing the vision, but the deadly assassin inside it was far from harmless. Noises of struggle and strife could be heard, but only the guard grunted and cried in shock... then pain.

“Alright! Alright!” A deep voice cried in a thick accent. The mist subsided and revealed a chilling scene of Ludivine standing above an olive skinned guard with a blackened eye and a few cuts to his clothing. He was tending to his right arm. It was fully covered, so Vespasian couldn't tell exactly what his sister had done to it. “They are. They are bringing the Valinthe back, but they need the Arch Bones of the Death Gate. I don't know anything else.”

“He's telling the truth.” Maelle said as she stood up with her hands on her hips. “He doesn't know anything else. I don't think anyone knows where the thieves went.”

“I agree. He and his fellow traitors have been informed on a need to know basis.” Vespasian stood up with her and signaled for the rest of Ankhas security to apprehend him. He met up with Lillian back at her mountain of books. His sisters weren't far behind. “Well we found out what they're up to. They want to bring back the Valinthe as you may have gathered already, but they need the Arch Bones of the Death Gate in order to get it done.”

“They need more than that.” Lillian said as her eyes darted into space. Vespasian assumed she was scanning the vast reaches of her personal knowledge for a determinative detail. “Theoretically if one wanted to they could send souls to or from the Anti Firmament with a single ritual, however it must be proportionate to the number of souls they want to send. If they want to bring back ten thousand Valinthe they would need an experienced Thayne priest for every five hundred souls or so, and the Gate would have to be quite large. One thing is for certain. The ritual would have to take place at the exact same location as the first one.”

“I'm sure the authorities have been alerted but we need to stop this from happening.” Vespasian said without any objection from his sisters. “We need information, but all my contacts are in fields that don't concern this.”

“All I have are government contacts.” Maelle said with her hands in the air. “And if Edari'axa's people let it get this far then they know nothing about it.”

“I believe I can help.” Ludivine said with a refreshed look on her face. Attacking that guard was a relief for her. It was almost as if she had just finished having sex. “I have an informant we can talk to. We need to get to The Bottomless Pit.”

“The shady little brother of El'inssring. So be it.” Before they stepped out Vespasian turned to Lillian. “You coming?”

[Ataraxis]

When she heard that question, Lillian felt the call of adventure tugging at her heart, compelling the naïve little girl inside her to undertake yet another task that by all odds was too grand for her to handle. So many times before, she had abandoned herself to it without a second thought, revelling in the potential to experience things most people never encounter in their lifetimes; but in the years following the departure from her home of Fallien, the naïve girl had grown slightly more jaded. Every time she had succumbed to the call, it robbed her of something dear to her heart, and killed a little bit of herself. She had come to know so much, and so many people; she had accomplished so many things, saved so many lives, and risked her own so many times. Yet, even so, Lillian regretted none of these meetings and sacrifices, and were she given the choice to undo them, she would leave things exactly as they were. However, at the end of the day, she was forced to face the facts.

All she had was herself.

She heard herself lie, then, in a voice of bittersweet abandon. “Without question.” The answer fit so naturally with the honesty of her smile, but an attentive soul might have seen through those periwinkle eyes the faint breaking of her heart. Lillian knew all too well this was much bigger than herself, and that no matter how much the next few hours would shatter her, it was all for the sake of others – like it had always been, and always would be.

As the siblings were being ushered out of the library while the guards lifted the barred gate partway, Lillian began to follow suit when a hand lightly, almost shamefully rasped against her shoulder. Quietly, she turned her head askance, to see the librarian that had been forced to betray his own kith and kin under some unknown duress. His pale eyes, like blossoms of hydrangea, held beneath the shame a layer of sorrow restrained, almost as if he knew the turmoil within her.

The dark elf, however, did not address it, and she did not know whether she felt relief at that or an even deeper despondency. “Young miss, there is more I must tell you before you leave: as I’ve told you, the diamonds set in the genuine Crown Jewels are indispensable to the ritual, but the twenty priests they will need for a ritual of this size and the corresponding twenty bones from which the Arch will be built are not subject to such requirements of uniqueness.”

“Then any will do?” she asked, the worry born from this newfound information overshadowing any emotion she had felt before. “Then if they know what they’re doing…”

“Which, from my educated guess, they do,” continued the librarian, mirroring her anxiety, “they may have already found most, if not all of the necessary pieces for the ritual...”

“And the Valinthe may very well walk the streets of Ettermire within mere hours,” Lillian concluded, her tone laden with gravity. “Then we had best make haste.”

After picking up her backpack and a long, tubular item wrapped in cloth from her worktable, Lillian made her way to the exit, flooded with the gaslight from the streets, where the siblings had been waiting. As she slightly crouched to pass beneath the half-raised gateway, she turned back to the librarian, openly remarking something that had been bothering her for quite a while, now. “You know, for a country that tries to have nothing to do with magic beyond archiving and the few practical defensive knickknacks, it surprises me that the internal dangers you’re most often exposed to are sorcerous in nature.”

“Make not the mistake, young miss,” the librarian answered gravely. “This is not sorcery: it is religion.” She had thought it mere jest at first, but that cautionary glare in his eyes proved otherwise. As she ducked under the wrought-iron bars, she felt a surge of unease clutching at her chest. Still, even with this dreadful sense of foreboding, she would not turn her back on Alerar.

She would not turn a blind eye as the closest thing she had to a home teetered once more on the verge of ruination.

:::::

“This, uhm, this informant… can he be trusted?”

As they walked under the cover of night, illuminated only at rare intervals by the gleam of pipe-fed gaslight through the lampposts that lined the streets, the question went for a moment unanswered. Ludivine was staring her shier, more unassuming and diminutive counterpart down, almost as if those very same words the girl had spoken were flitting through her own mind, however aimed at Lillian instead. “Trust means much less in this business than good results, and the latter he provides. But in your words, yes: he can be trusted.” The assassin spared her another patronizing glance before adding: “You, however…”

“Ludi!” came Maelle’s irate interjection, cutting her short. “I apologize on behalf of my sister, Lillian. She didn’t mean to– ”

“To question what worth she is beyond deskwork and high-speed avoidance of paper cuts? I do mean it.” Without breaking her silent stride, without even looking back to show the girl any care beyond mere annoyance, she went on. “We won’t be able to work: she’ll slow us down.”

“How can you say that? If it weren’t for her, we’d still be down in the archives, pulling our hair out in hopes of finding clues!”

“I’d still have been on the lookout, and I’d still have found the thieves in the middle of their tryst. We’d have put our personal search aside for this, and you know it as much as I do.”

“Ludi,” Vespasian spoke this time, his tone as calm and assuasive as he could make it in hopes of tempering his sister. He held her lightly by the upper-arm, carefully pulling her back without alarming her honed instincts. “We’ve already talked about this: it was thanks to her that we avoided a clash with the guards. If they’d used their firearms…”

Ludivine violently shrugged her shoulder, pushing his hand away. “Don’t keep hanging that over me,” she murmured, almost hissing between her teeth. “This time, we’d have found a way. I’m not saying she didn’t make some things easy, but this isn’t about efficient filing methods and psych tactics anymore. Healing isn’t going to cut it when blood is spraying every which way, and believe me, this is what this night will most likely shape up to become: an utter blood bath.” For the first time since their argument began, Ludivine spun on the balls of her heels, sweeping her arm in the girl’s direction as her siblings’ eyes followed the motion. “Are you really going to let her risk her life like… wait.”

“Where is she?” Maelle asked, bewildered by her sudden disappearance. Then, it struck her. “You... you don’t think she left while we…”

“Debated her usefulness like some sort of army-knife?” Vespasian ended his sister's sentence dejectedly, pressing a palm against his face in a mixture of shame, guilt and regret. “That was terrible. I can’t believe we…”

“What’s the hold-up?” came a lilting, singsong voice from up ahead. They all turned as one, only to see that dollish face under the soft glare of a lamplight, arms crossed at the back, smiling at them. “People have questioned things much worse than my worth in a fight. Being compared to an army-knife is actually a compliment compared to that: I’m very versatile.”

“When did you get there?” Ludivine asked, her voice laden with a smidgeon of suspicion, but most of it was defensiveness from an unseen threat. “You couldn’t have actually rounded through and alley and ran all the way back just for a prank. I’ve seen you run in Ankhas: back then, you were sweating after walking up the stairway, but now you haven’t broken a sweat.”

“I walked up here while you three weren’t looking is all.”

“I’d have noticed you: it’s my job to notice, and not be noticed.”

“And it’s my life,” Lillian replied simply, but without a single hint of amusement. The words had been heavy with grief and stifled anger, and her stare colder than they had ever seen to this moment. “Nowadays, the library is the place in which I spend the least time. Even outside, I… pick up things.”

Vespasian smirked at that, remembering what the girl had said before. “Versatile, hm?” He could feel she had truncated the explanation, if only to vex Ludivine by confronting her in what she held as one of her greatest prides. To be matched on those grounds of predilection by a person she thought as nothing more than a meeker version of herself... it was definitely a straightforward way of alleviating any doubts as to her skills outside the stuffy walls of Ankhas. Perhaps at the expense of any future friendship with the assassin, but then again, who really did make friends with his sister?

“Lillian, I apologize… sincerely,” he added. “I understand if you no longer wish to aid us. We’ve already asked so much, and have only repaid you with oafish inconsideration.”

“Far from that,” she said in a hurry, eyes melting and turning sheepish. “It was more entertaining than insulting, I have to admit!” the girl exclaimed with a nervous chuckle, which she did her best to smother out quickly. Meeting eyes with the middle child of the Ouellets, she felt she needed to say one last thing. “And, also… thank you, Ludivine. For worrying about me. I really do appreciate it.”

Alas, just as she had expected, the assassin turned her gaze away. Deep inside, she had wished that both issues of trust and animosity would be resolved this way, but it seemed as if she would have to make do with only the former. It was the price to pay for treading on the woman’s pride, she knew.

“We… we’d better hurry.” As Lillian turned away to face the half-light that spanned beyond, they could see her fade somewhat, even under the glare of the lamps. It was as though the essence of her existence depended on what faith the girl had in herself, that every moment she was struggling to keep her body from being spirited away. Perhaps, they thought, this was part of the mystery behind her prior prestidigitation. No smoke, no mirrors. Only shadows of hurt, and the mask of a smile.

[The International]

A moment of awkward silence dominated the air even though they were outside and among the busy Aleraran Capital. Ludivine looked at her siblings, who were both staring at her. They sensed her wounded pride like a shark smelling blood in the water, and they proceeded to strike albeit very subtly. Their blank faces slowly molded like clay, cheeks rose, eyes took on a twinkle, and dimples caved in, to expose faces of pure joy. It was extremely difficult for anyone to successfully strike a nerve with her due to years of judgmental berating by their parents. They didn't approve of the way she did her job. She was an assassin and a seductress who had more kills and more time in bed under her belt than anyone else in the family combined. Alix and Esme never approved, so they did everything they could to pull her away from her devious methods, including every conceivable way to damage her self-esteem. Instead of giving in, however, she grew stronger.

The black sheep of the family crossed her arms in front of her chest and started after Lillian. Her face, her body language, even her angry strut indicated that she was about to strike at the young scholar, but her siblings knew that she knew better. Instead Ludivine passed her and sent her a nasty look as she went by. It was a subtle reminder that this was her part of the mission.

The party followed Ludivine for half a mile through the colorful city of Ettermire. One wouldn't think that the industrious Dark Elves would make their capital an intensely hued metropolis, but it wasn't intentional. The various factories around the city spewed flames out of their chimneys, thus creating a brilliant golden canopy around the clock. Iron and chrome archways and clock towers were meticulously kept and had a luminosity of their own. Several varieties of fire-proof brick, which made up most of the buildings, created a rich tapestry of warm colors ranging from neutral to brown. Finally the streetlamps, all installed in different eras of the city's past created a rainbow tinted catwalk for the flamboyantly dressed pedestrians. The smell of sulfur and other factory substances saturated the air with a pepper like scent so strong that it could almost be tasted when one inhaled. It was almost as exotic as the spices of Fallien. The most beautiful woman in the world was the one who didn't know she was beautiful at all.

“You know,” Maelle said as she crept up closely behind Vespasian. “If we're going to stop this from happening we may have to draw some blood. I'll be the first to tell you not to judge a book by its cover so I think we need to at least read the first couple of pages on this one.”

Vespasian nodded his head and picked up the pace until he was right beside Lillian. “As rude as she was, and again I apologize on behalf of the entire family, Ludivine has a point. We may end up in some pretty sticky situations, and we need to know if you can defend yourself.”

Lillian looked back at him obliquely as they walked, and he thought he caught a wave of unease in those pale blue eyes, as if she would rather keep such matters close to the heart. "From what little I've seen of you all, I know you can understand why I'd much rather keep certain things about myself in the dark." She stopped to consider, mulling over her next words carefully. "Do you see that trash barrel, under that faulty lamppost?" she asked, pointing to the flickering light far ahead on the opposite street while unsheathing a blade from the rope belt about her waist.

"Yes, that's well over sixty feet away, but..."

Before he could finish, he heard the sharp whisk of wind and the hollow thunk of punctured wood. When he looked, he saw that not only had the knife struck true, but that the embedded cut had quite nearly sliced the bin in half. "Please, tell me that this was enough."

“It'll have to do.” Ludivine said casually as she turned the corner. They made their way towards a brick complex with a formidable crowd around the front. To the inexperienced, The Bottomless Pit was nothing more than another bar, but those familiar with the city knew that it was the core of Alerar's underground. “Vespasian, take her with you around the back alley. Her long range abilities will compliment you well when my man comes running.”

“Right.” Vespasian waved Lillian to follow as he made his way along the edge of the crowd and descended into the shadows between the buildings. Maelle knew the plan well as she stayed in the street in front of the building.

“Our target will make a retreat into this alley.” Vespasian said as the two of them stopped about thirty feet into the alley. “When he does I need you to wait for him to get at least ten feet into the alley before you give him a warning strike...”

[Ataraxis]

Lillian merely nodded her understanding, punctuating it with the silent unsheathing of two aesthetically opposite knives. These were different from the dirk she had thrown and subsequently recovered in her prior demonstration, to the bewildered eyes of the onlookers that had witnessed this blatant act of vandalism: rather than cut from cillu glass, their matte black and glossy white blades were forged from pure prevalida and their edges had been serrated to an almost wicked degree. Knowing these would be more fitting for the task at hand, she twirled them once by the hole in each tang and receded into the darkness of the alley, her pale silhouette swallowed whole as if by living shadows.

Vespasian could guess she had taken refuge behind either the piles of foul-smelling sundries that lined the brick passage or the galvanized dumpster that was overflowing with broken bottles, but the action seemed oddly redundant. He had already lost track of her, as if by magic; in fact, he no longer had any doubt that this stealth and her previous vanishing act were sorcerous in nature. Perhaps, he mused, his sister’s wounded ego could be soothed by the notion that the mousy librarian had only managed her deception with the assistance of greater powers. After careful consideration, however, he decided to keep that little tidbit of information to himself: there was no point in prematurely ending the rare sight of a humbled Ludivine, after all.

He himself decided to crouch behind a nearby stack of straw-bundled crates, likely discarded after being emptied of their lower-class ale imports. Then was the wait: for a minute that had felt like ten, there was nary a sound save for the shady bustle on the streets by the evening ragtag. It all came muffled to the ears of the two lying in wait, so focused they were on the chipped, whitewashed door that lead into the back alley.

There was a low thumping, clumsy, hurried. It grew into a series of muted thuds, until it became the clear thundering of boots against wailing floorboards. The door flung open in a storm of heaving breaths and heavy foot falls as a bulky dark elf with umber skin came tumbling out, lumbering feet bending the three-step stairway that brought him to the brick alley. Another tripped down the wooden flight, scrawny head flattening against the back of the bouncer before he righted himself, frightened eyes buzzing every which way as if the end of days had finally come. The larger of the two spied to the left, hoping to make a break for it into the public eye of the busy streets, but his hopes were shattered when Maelle waltzed into view, blocking his path to freedom. He turned heels at once and dashed for the right, hopping over gutted bags of trash in his escape, with the other bumbling in tow.

Ten steps into his mad dash, he saw a ghastly face spring from the darkness, cutting through him with its sharp-blue eyes so wide and eerie. Two blades rose threateningly, seemingly floating in midair before flashing as one was thrown. Chips of rock pelted his chest from beneath, and as he looked down, the elf saw a blade of white, burrowed halfway into the stone ground, still oscillating. Lillian readied herself deliberately for another throw, in case the warning had been insufficient, but the bouncer was no dolt. In a final act of desperation, he spun back, but rather than seeing Maelle spontaneously vanish, he saw her ranks joined by that deadly vixen with dead, jade eyes. “Vith,” he cursed between grit teeth.

His companion did not have the clarity of mind to see defeat as he had, however. Seeing that the knife-thrower was nothing more than a child, he bolted in her direction, hoping to knock her out before she could take aim. Instead, he felt his throat ram against something that reminded him of a steel bar; his feet left the ground to fly, but the rest of his body came slamming down with unforgiving violence. Vespasian stood casually beside the gangly elf, right arm outstretched and as straight as a clothesline.

“Hm,” Vespasian began with a corner smile.“You walked right into that one.”