Chapter 39 #3
Alsen felt the mana even from the door. A bound elemental, clean work, tied into the glass with a containment that was probably older than Alsen’s grandmother had been.
“That’s my Whistle,” Volsk said, catching his look. “She doesn’t talk, but she hums if you sing to her.” He beamed. “Sit, sit. Tea will be just a moment.”
They sat at the table, Alsen sagging into the chair. What a waste of time. Volsk turned to prepare the tea, and Alsen phased out of the situation. This was an absolute waste of time. They owed the old mage the courtesy of staying through the visit.
If anything, his being investigated was going to be a highlight of his recent years. Alsen pulled on the System, activating a level scanner, catching both Volsk and Garrett.
Name: Volsk
Age: 78
Level: 17
And the other one.
Name: Garrett Landon
Age: 29
Level: 32
Yeah, the level seventeen mage wasn’t a suspect.
They sat through the tea. Garrett gave Volsk the courtesy of asking a few inquisitive questions, but by their nature, he also had the level scanner ability, so he mostly asked if Volsk knew someone strong enough.
Nope, and there was no hint of a lie in his words.
After the customary half-hour visit, they left. They gathered on the street, waiting for Volsk to close the door.
After he did, Garrett sighed. “I’m afraid that might be it.”
Alsen and Luna both nodded. “The only lead we have is the bracelet and the anti-magical shackles,” he said.
“Which have most likely been nicked by the guards,” Garrett replied.
He knew. He damn well knew. “And even if they weren’t, they aren’t going to have the signature of the perpetrator on them. We will find them either at a shop, or they are long out of town, together with the perpetrator. Nobody sane would stay around the city after doing that.”
“Yeah.” Garrett shrugged. “Well, I guess I’ll be going. I told Renauld that you’ll lead the investigation, so his men will send you any updates, if they have any.”
“Where are you going?” Luna asked.
“Back home to Yellowrest. Need to break the news to Marena’s and Theron’s families, and leave them with at least some gold.
I’ll take a break then, I guess. My party’s gone and, admittedly, I have no desire to meet whatever wiped out the guild.
I’m not going to kid myself by thinking that me being there would have made any difference.
Plus, all adventurers are to meet Verathras tomorrow.
I couldn’t care less about what the lizard wants. ”
Understandable. “Very well.” Alsen forced out a smile. “Best of luck on your future journeys.”
“To you too.” He glanced at Luna. “Try not to wear Alsen down to death.”
She gasped exaggeratedly. “I would never.”
Garrett chuckled. He turned and headed away.
Well, that was that. He wanted to give Garrett some extra gold, but he barely had any since they never cashed out the reward for the frost harpies. And he didn’t even know how to reach the lord who hired them.
Tiredness washed over Alsen.
After Garrett left, Alsen turned to Luna. “I’m sorry, but I need the afternoon alone.”
She shrugged. “Sure. See you in the morning.” She turned and left.
Alsen watched her walk away. With a sigh, he headed to buy some booze. He had more than enough gold for that.
He found a shop after a bit, bought a couple of bottles, and, for lack of a better location, he went to Luna’s room. She wasn’t in the room, so the awkward conversation would happen later or tomorrow.
He poured himself a cup, drank, and poured again.
The first cup was for Arleria. Only Arleria. The pink light she’d woven into his arm was still there, slowly fading, still doing its work without her. He thought about the way she’d cataloged his injuries the first time he’d visited her apartment, muttering to herself as she worked.
He missed her dearly. All the evenings when she huddled against him, all semi-inquisitive questions and sneaky smiles.
He drank to her until he couldn’t hold the shape of her face clearly in his head anymore, and then he drank again to hold it longer, and the holding didn’t work. It never worked.
The second part of the bottle was for the investigation.
No theory other than Luna’s, no leads, no explanations, nothing.
In a way, he was impressed with how little they had found. He couldn’t have done that himself.
And, frankly speaking, he wasn’t sure they would win the fight even if they found the perpetrator.
Especially if that perpetrator was Luna.
The mark of Luna’s fingers on his arm still remained, as if the torn joint and muscles and ligaments weren’t enough of a hint.
That wasn’t some super-secret final technique.
He was falling, so she caught him. Without preparation or effort.
That his arm couldn’t handle it might have never crossed her mind. Because her arm could have handled it, she automatically assumed his would too.
Any fight between them might well boil down to her dodging the Lance of Annihilation and simply forcing her way through his shield to deliver a very gruesome end.
Fuck.
He drank himself unconscious.
As he was about to pass out, he remembered something.
On the way to the Pellicle, he passed through multiple spiritual layers. One of them was the transference layer, through which souls passed to the afterlife.
He closed his eyes, focused, and ejected his mind out of his body.
His consciousness left his form, the world blurring around him.
He blasted through the spiritual layer, swiftly passing through to the realm of the dying.
Everything around him turned into shades of gray. Partly what Vellhorn looked like, mostly ruins of what had been. He flew through the space, looking for souls that had yet to pass.
A current hit him from the side, an invisible wind. It tore at his soul. He pushed against it, stabilizing. It passed, and it continued, flying to where the adventurers’ guild stood.
The former church still stood there, looking like a ruin. A part of the roof had collapsed in, and half of the windows had shattered. The symbol of the thousand-faced god, a sword with wings, still dominated the front wall.
A man stood by the building, his form partly faded. Alsen instantly recognized him.
Savnoj.
His heart jumped in his chest. He didn’t know how long souls took to pass to the Void, so at least one hadn’t yet.
He descended, landing in front of him.
Savnoj greeted him with an ironic smile. “You don’t look dead.”
“No,” Alsen said. “I’m sorry to ask, but who killed you?”
“Straight to the point.” He smirked. “It’s understandable, I guess. I also don’t know how long until the currents sweep me away.”
Alsen raised an eyebrow. That wasn’t an answer.
“A monster appeared out of nowhere. We fought. We lost.”
“What did it look like?”
“Demonic. Had four arms with claws, shoulders too wide to pass through the door, and a mouth full of fangs. It tore through us like nothing.”
Alsen nodded. The crime scene did match the description. “Did you have the anti-magical shackles with you?”
“I did. Though with how expensive they were, the monster’s summoner likely took them.”
That also matched. “Did you see the summoner?”
“No. Didn’t even hear the spell, just saw the monster appear. Thought it was you.”
Alsen sighed. “What of the others? Did you see any of them?”
“They all have passed already. The currents get most within minutes of arriving here. I’ve resisted them out of pride alone, though admittedly, the next one will be my last. I barely saw anyone. Though I did spot Theron and Marena holding each other as the afterlife claimed them.”
Alsen’s eyes watered. He came too late. If there was ever a time early enough to see Arleria for one last time.
The grayness tore up above Savnoj. From the tear, a being formed. A twisted angel with steel wings and a featureless mask that covered its face. It flew to Savnoj. “Time to go. The Faceless Goddess accepts you.”
Its voice had a strange sense of gentleness and finality to it.
Savnoj smirked. “So long, mage.”
The angel swept its hand, and Savnoj turned to dust, vanishing with the angel back into the tear.
It sealed behind them.
Alsen woke with light through the shutters, his head a cathedral bell, and his stomach considering a career change.
No sign of Luna, but two large cups of water lay near him. Thanks, he uttered in his mind, and drank them both.
With utmost effort, he got up, wobbled to the washing barrel, and washed himself.
When he finished, Luna was in the room, observing him from the far wall with an amused glint in her eyes.
“Morning,” he managed. “It’s a bit awkward to ask, but I can’t change my clothes without help, and I just washed myself in these…”
With a smirk, she walked to him. She helped him undress, uncharacteristically gentle in her movements. She got him out of his current clothes and into his best outfit, a semblance of a suit and a robe.
They caught a quick breakfast at the inn, packed up all their things in case they would have to run, and headed to meet Verathras.