Vern sighed internally. This person has to know something, right?
So he answered with a nod, "Yes, that would be me. Sorry for disturbing you like this, but would you happen to know where Ariane might be?"
She still seemed excited a moment ago, but after his question, she calmed down.
"I—I don't really. She hasn't been talking to me since…uh…you know—since everyone disappeared. I tried to chat with her like we used to, but she remained cooped up in her room all day. Our group…or what's left of it, actually wanted to go check out what's happening at the academy, but she never opened the door," said the girl.
"She can be…difficult at times. Did you notice anything out of place?"
"Yes!"
Vern waited for her as she collected herself and continued, "Few men in white robes were pestering her every few hours."
"She never gave any of us a reaction, but when those men came, she always yelled very loudly. It was always something along the lines of, 'Please leave me alone.'"
"I—I tried asking her about that too. But she just wouldn't talk to me, no matter what. Since it was becoming fruitless, I didn't even come to the door to check yesterday when it last happened."
"Yesterday? Do you remember when exactly?"
"Umm, early Morning, I guess?"
"I…see. Anything else that you noticed? What did these men look like? Were there any signs or symbols on their robes? Did they say anything?"
"Umm…not really. I was only ever looking at their backs through the peephole, and their robes were pure white. I never heard them say anything at all. They just knocked and stood there for a while before leaving."
"Did something happen to her?" she murmured, clutching at the hem of her day dress.
"The door was unlocked, and she hasn't returned since the last two hours."
The girl seemed surprised as she stuck out her neck, looking past Vern, and murmured, "Did they really take her away?"
The same worries were running through Vern's mind as he tried to think of who these men in white robes could be. Someone from Ascendant Council? Asea's church? But if they were coming here repeatedly, then that's to say they didn't use force for the first…uh…?
"Sorry, but can you recall how many times these white-robed men came?"
"I heard it about seven or eight times, including the one yesterday."
So, at least the first eight times, they didn't use any force and just asked for her cooperation? Did they want something from her? That Observation Record? But how would they ever know that Ari had it on her person? Was it something else?
"Is—is she going to be alright? Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You've already helped quite a bit, Miss. Thank you very much," said Vern with a shallow bow.
She seemed disappointed as she replied, "Hope you find her safe and sound. Please tell her to come chat with me. There's a lot to talk about."
The girl curtsied and seemed to want to say something. Her eyes lingered on his face, but she eventually closed the gate.
Not minding the awkward farewell, he went back into Ari's room and donned back his hat and coat. Grabbing a notepad from her desk, he penned a short note, 'Ari, this is Vern. Please wait here tonight if you're reading this, I will explain everything when I am back.'
Shoving all the clutter on her bed to one side, he left the pad with that note in a conspicuous position. Closing the door, he left her room.
His next destination was Ascendant Council. It was about time he gave them a visit. Repercussions be damned. Someone was messing with Ari, and he wasn't going to sit around and wait for bad news.
Westerleigh borough lay beneath a solemn, amber evening sky, a veritable forest of gothic mansions that loomed over the winding cobblestone streets. Each edifice was a brooding silhouette of formidable architecture, punctuated with pointed arches and intricate stonework. Their tall metal gates supported by sprawling fences housed massive gardens in their dark elegance—looking austere.
Steam released from the vapor spire of the carriage as it came to a halt, and Vern stepped out, one hand on his top hat as he paid fifteen crowns to the man. Carriage ride's prices were becoming exorbitant. Then with another plume of steam, the carriage sputtered away as he stood there, his eyes closed, waiting for his vision to clear up.
This design with sideways exhaust is just atrocious.
Heaving a sigh, he looked at the map again. The driver said he wasn't allowed to drive up all the way to Duke's residence. But it was only a few minutes walk from here.
So he started his march up the inclined road as carriages drove down the hill—some with unique designs, others exhibiting the symbols of noble families. This indeed had to be the place for the aristocracy with all that unnecessary and inefficient design choices.
Passing by gardens that seemed to be forests in their own rights and bungalows that looked to be millennia old, he reached a mansion that would do better to be called a castle with all those flying buttresses, spires taller than the highest hill, and labyrinthine design.
But Vern wasn't here for this. That was Duke Armen's manor.
So he tore his eyes away from that grandiose architecture and looked to his right instead. Under the sky that was growing amber by the second, stood another baroque mansion, its design a touch more…eerie.
Nowhere near as grand as that castle, but large in its own right, it was built of some obsidian stone with sharp corners and tall, narrow windows. The roof was steep and angular, with towering chimneys and wrought-iron detailing. Ivy clung to the sides of the building, crawling up toward the roof, adding an eerie touch. The outer entrance was grand, with large double doors flanked by stone statues and a fence bounding the whole place.
But those weren't the only statues. Tens of other sculptures lined the courtyard, leaving naught but a path that went from the outer entrance to the mansion's door. When Vern looked closely, some were actually figurines of…Lady Lennix? But many other unknown ones crowded around them. Some had their faces melted off, while others had hollows for eye sockets.
How could rock statues melt unless it was intentional? Just why the hell would you have such sculptures in a religious gathering location, for Steam's sake? And next to lady's likening at that. Not that it looked religious at all. It was more than a little chilling.
Shaking his head, he pushed open the grand door, which, surprisingly or unsurprisingly, neither had a guard nor was it locked.
Walking past bronze statues of differing heights and form one after another, he looked to his right, beyond the statues. The section wasn't visible from outside due to the fence, but this really started giving him the creeps.
Why the hell were there tombstones in here? Why were some of them even larger than the freaking statues? If not for that signage by the inner entrance boldly proclaiming in elegant fonts, 'Ascendant Council,' he would have assumed he was in the wrong place.
Well. If they can be in the news and have so much fame and members, it might as well be their trademark. This whole architecture seems like one of those millennia-old ones, anyway. Maybe they just never refurbished it.
Not ready to back out due to the spooky atmosphere, he crossed all the statues and stood in front of the gate.
Knock Knock Knock
No one responded, and a feeling of Deja-vu arose in him. Not even bothering to knock another time, he simply turned the knob, and this time logic prevailed—the door opened up. It wasn't very surprising, though. Clubs were supposed to be free to enter, after all. It's the engagement with other members and perks that warrants the membership fee.
However, they were supposed to be lit and kept maintained. This...was neither of those. Faint light entered from those narrow tinted windows and illuminated some of the articles by the entrance. A reception desk stood in front of two spiraling staircases that met each other on the landing of the second floor—splitting again until the next one.
To both sides of the staircase were long halls—silver patterns on the door of rooms within shimmering even in this dim vista. But even with everything shrouded in darkness, the opulence of the club was clear to his eyes. Extravagant woodwork was a staple in every element of his surroundings. The balustrades of the staircase, thick pillars which supported the ceiling, bookcases, chairs, couches, and whatnot.
All of this wasn't in the style of this era at all. Only a few contraptions existed in here—like that water clock or that ancient steam-powered piano whose notes would boom through the whole building. But this was one of the traditional designs from the time before Fundamentals were discovered.
It was to the point that even the chandelier, which wasn't currently ignited, was one that used kerosene, something that caretakers would have to refuel every night. No pipes ran to the ceiling, which had long mechanized such tedious processes. Now I doubt they even have gas pipes coming in from the city. It is just like those backwater towns that refused to adopt devices crafted using insights from Fundamentals.
But Vern shrugged and moved on. He wasn't here to comment on their distaste for Fundamentals. As long as they could help him with Observation, they could live in huts like wandering hermits for all he cared.
However, something to note was that the club wasn't quiet.
Clack
Thud
angh
A myriad of low sounds registered in his ears as if coming from very far away…or just muffled by the doors. Footsteps also shuffled around right above him on the ceiling.
So Vern hollered, "Hello! Is anyone here?" and all the sounds disappeared, falling into a pin-drop silence. But after another few seconds, they resumed their earlier cadence as hushed noises came from all around him.
Vern didn't walk inside the building completely and stood outside, one hand keeping the door propped open. This wasn't the most inviting environment. He had expected quite a lot of things coming up here, but this wasn't one of them.
Ascendant Council was supposed to be this group of politickers and motivated individuals that worked towards a goal. They were meant to be these highly enlightened individuals that had their own perspectives regarding Fundamentalism and Observation.
Not this…creepy mansion with people hiding in the shadows. This helped him make up his mind about a purchase. It was about time he started carrying a pocket illuminator with himself—maybe even a winding one so it wouldn't run out at the most opportune times. Would really help him feel less anxious navigating Elmhurst where anything can become dark out of nowhere.
Vern stood there and waited, focusing on all the muffled sounds,
Thump thump
See See See
Anghh Anghh
eyesabovehelpgoddownseemehelplife…
Hungh Hungh
Secret I tell come
It was all so bizarre. Faint echoes of laughter, shouts, unintelligible whispers, or anguished cries came from far-off rooms, softened and distorted by the mansion's many walls and corridors. They seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, permeating the whole mansion. Apart from that were rattling and creaking of doors overlaid by some sounds that didn't make any sense to him.
But in this amalgamation of garbled voices was a special one, coming from some direction in particular. Yes. Seems like it’s from the first door down the right hall. It said, "Secret, I tell. Come. Come." Vern concentrated on it further, "You. Yes. You. I got secrets. Give it to me, and I give secrets."
Not sure what to make of it, he just waited there, not making moves to walk in. The whole thing was giving him the creeps. He had read enough fiction to know not to jump head first into things like this.
.
.
.
Minutes passed by, but nothing happened. All the ambient noises continued their course except that voice which uttered new sentences every few seconds, "Come. I show secret. Secret of the sphere. Come, I give secret, you give back."
Sphere? Insight Sphere?
Vern sighed internally. This person has to know something, right?
So he answered with a nod, "Yes, that would be me. Sorry for disturbing you like this, but would you happen to know where Ariane might be?"
She still seemed excited a moment ago, but after his question, she calmed down.
"I—I don't really. She hasn't been talking to me since…uh…you know—since everyone disappeared. I tried to chat with her like we used to, but she remained cooped up in her room all day. Our group…or what's left of it, actually wanted to go check out what's happening at the academy, but she never opened the door," said the girl.
"She can be…difficult at times. Did you notice anything out of place?"
"Yes!"
Vern waited for her as she collected herself and continued, "Few men in white robes were pestering her every few hours."
"She never gave any of us a reaction, but when those men came, she always yelled very loudly. It was always something along the lines of, 'Please leave me alone.'"
"I—I tried asking her about that too. But she just wouldn't talk to me, no matter what. Since it was becoming fruitless, I didn't even come to the door to check yesterday when it last happened."
"Yesterday? Do you remember when exactly?"
"Umm, early Morning, I guess?"
"I…see. Anything else that you noticed? What did these men look like? Were there any signs or symbols on their robes? Did they say anything?"
"Umm…not really. I was only ever looking at their backs through the peephole, and their robes were pure white. I never heard them say anything at all. They just knocked and stood there for a while before leaving."
"Did something happen to her?" she murmured, clutching at the hem of her day dress.
"The door was unlocked, and she hasn't returned since the last two hours."
The girl seemed surprised as she stuck out her neck, looking past Vern, and murmured, "Did they really take her away?"
The same worries were running through Vern's mind as he tried to think of who these men in white robes could be. Someone from Ascendant Council? Asea's church? But if they were coming here repeatedly, then that's to say they didn't use force for the first…uh…?
"Sorry, but can you recall how many times these white-robed men came?"
"I heard it about seven or eight times, including the one yesterday."
So, at least the first eight times, they didn't use any force and just asked for her cooperation? Did they want something from her? That Observation Record? But how would they ever know that Ari had it on her person? Was it something else?
"Is—is she going to be alright? Is there anything I can do to help?"
"You've already helped quite a bit, Miss. Thank you very much," said Vern with a shallow bow.
She seemed disappointed as she replied, "Hope you find her safe and sound. Please tell her to come chat with me. There's a lot to talk about."
The girl curtsied and seemed to want to say something. Her eyes lingered on his face, but she eventually closed the gate.
Not minding the awkward farewell, he went back into Ari's room and donned back his hat and coat. Grabbing a notepad from her desk, he penned a short note, 'Ari, this is Vern. Please wait here tonight if you're reading this, I will explain everything when I am back.'
Shoving all the clutter on her bed to one side, he left the pad with that note in a conspicuous position. Closing the door, he left her room.
His next destination was Ascendant Council. It was about time he gave them a visit. Repercussions be damned. Someone was messing with Ari, and he wasn't going to sit around and wait for bad news.
Westerleigh borough lay beneath a solemn, amber evening sky, a veritable forest of gothic mansions that loomed over the winding cobblestone streets. Each edifice was a brooding silhouette of formidable architecture, punctuated with pointed arches and intricate stonework. Their tall metal gates supported by sprawling fences housed massive gardens in their dark elegance—looking austere.
Steam released from the vapor spire of the carriage as it came to a halt, and Vern stepped out, one hand on his top hat as he paid fifteen crowns to the man. Carriage ride's prices were becoming exorbitant. Then with another plume of steam, the carriage sputtered away as he stood there, his eyes closed, waiting for his vision to clear up.
This design with sideways exhaust is just atrocious.
Heaving a sigh, he looked at the map again. The driver said he wasn't allowed to drive up all the way to Duke's residence. But it was only a few minutes walk from here.
So he started his march up the inclined road as carriages drove down the hill—some with unique designs, others exhibiting the symbols of noble families. This indeed had to be the place for the aristocracy with all that unnecessary and inefficient design choices.
Passing by gardens that seemed to be forests in their own rights and bungalows that looked to be millennia old, he reached a mansion that would do better to be called a castle with all those flying buttresses, spires taller than the highest hill, and labyrinthine design.
But Vern wasn't here for this. That was Duke Armen's manor.
So he tore his eyes away from that grandiose architecture and looked to his right instead. Under the sky that was growing amber by the second, stood another baroque mansion, its design a touch more…eerie.
Nowhere near as grand as that castle, but large in its own right, it was built of some obsidian stone with sharp corners and tall, narrow windows. The roof was steep and angular, with towering chimneys and wrought-iron detailing. Ivy clung to the sides of the building, crawling up toward the roof, adding an eerie touch. The outer entrance was grand, with large double doors flanked by stone statues and a fence bounding the whole place.
But those weren't the only statues. Tens of other sculptures lined the courtyard, leaving naught but a path that went from the outer entrance to the mansion's door. When Vern looked closely, some were actually figurines of…Lady Lennix? But many other unknown ones crowded around them. Some had their faces melted off, while others had hollows for eye sockets.
How could rock statues melt unless it was intentional? Just why the hell would you have such sculptures in a religious gathering location, for Steam's sake? And next to lady's likening at that. Not that it looked religious at all. It was more than a little chilling.
Shaking his head, he pushed open the grand door, which, surprisingly or unsurprisingly, neither had a guard nor was it locked.
Walking past bronze statues of differing heights and form one after another, he looked to his right, beyond the statues. The section wasn't visible from outside due to the fence, but this really started giving him the creeps.
Why the hell were there tombstones in here? Why were some of them even larger than the freaking statues? If not for that signage by the inner entrance boldly proclaiming in elegant fonts, 'Ascendant Council,' he would have assumed he was in the wrong place.
Well. If they can be in the news and have so much fame and members, it might as well be their trademark. This whole architecture seems like one of those millennia-old ones, anyway. Maybe they just never refurbished it.
Not ready to back out due to the spooky atmosphere, he crossed all the statues and stood in front of the gate.
Knock Knock Knock
No one responded, and a feeling of Deja-vu arose in him. Not even bothering to knock another time, he simply turned the knob, and this time logic prevailed—the door opened up. It wasn't very surprising, though. Clubs were supposed to be free to enter, after all. It's the engagement with other members and perks that warrants the membership fee.
However, they were supposed to be lit and kept maintained. This...was neither of those. Faint light entered from those narrow tinted windows and illuminated some of the articles by the entrance. A reception desk stood in front of two spiraling staircases that met each other on the landing of the second floor—splitting again until the next one.
To both sides of the staircase were long halls—silver patterns on the door of rooms within shimmering even in this dim vista. But even with everything shrouded in darkness, the opulence of the club was clear to his eyes. Extravagant woodwork was a staple in every element of his surroundings. The balustrades of the staircase, thick pillars which supported the ceiling, bookcases, chairs, couches, and whatnot.
All of this wasn't in the style of this era at all. Only a few contraptions existed in here—like that water clock or that ancient steam-powered piano whose notes would boom through the whole building. But this was one of the traditional designs from the time before Fundamentals were discovered.
It was to the point that even the chandelier, which wasn't currently ignited, was one that used kerosene, something that caretakers would have to refuel every night. No pipes ran to the ceiling, which had long mechanized such tedious processes. Now I doubt they even have gas pipes coming in from the city. It is just like those backwater towns that refused to adopt devices crafted using insights from Fundamentals.
But Vern shrugged and moved on. He wasn't here to comment on their distaste for Fundamentals. As long as they could help him with Observation, they could live in huts like wandering hermits for all he cared.
However, something to note was that the club wasn't quiet.
Clack
Thud
angh
A myriad of low sounds registered in his ears as if coming from very far away…or just muffled by the doors. Footsteps also shuffled around right above him on the ceiling.
So Vern hollered, "Hello! Is anyone here?" and all the sounds disappeared, falling into a pin-drop silence. But after another few seconds, they resumed their earlier cadence as hushed noises came from all around him.
Vern didn't walk inside the building completely and stood outside, one hand keeping the door propped open. This wasn't the most inviting environment. He had expected quite a lot of things coming up here, but this wasn't one of them.
Ascendant Council was supposed to be this group of politickers and motivated individuals that worked towards a goal. They were meant to be these highly enlightened individuals that had their own perspectives regarding Fundamentalism and Observation.
Not this…creepy mansion with people hiding in the shadows. This helped him make up his mind about a purchase. It was about time he started carrying a pocket illuminator with himself—maybe even a winding one so it wouldn't run out at the most opportune times. Would really help him feel less anxious navigating Elmhurst where anything can become dark out of nowhere.
Vern stood there and waited, focusing on all the muffled sounds,
Thump thump
See See See
Anghh Anghh
eyesabovehelpgoddownseemehelplife…
Hungh Hungh
Secret I tell come
It was all so bizarre. Faint echoes of laughter, shouts, unintelligible whispers, or anguished cries came from far-off rooms, softened and distorted by the mansion's many walls and corridors. They seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once, permeating the whole mansion. Apart from that were rattling and creaking of doors overlaid by some sounds that didn't make any sense to him.
But in this amalgamation of garbled voices was a special one, coming from some direction in particular. Yes. Seems like it’s from the first door down the right hall. It said, "Secret, I tell. Come. Come." Vern concentrated on it further, "You. Yes. You. I got secrets. Give it to me, and I give secrets."
Not sure what to make of it, he just waited there, not making moves to walk in. The whole thing was giving him the creeps. He had read enough fiction to know not to jump head first into things like this.
.
.
.
Minutes passed by, but nothing happened. All the ambient noises continued their course except that voice which uttered new sentences every few seconds, "Come. I show secret. Secret of the sphere. Come, I give secret, you give back."
Sphere? Insight Sphere?
