Civil guards were dispatched to every corner of Camelot to apprehend the Crimsonmane mages responsible for the failed assassination attempt on the Donar family. The Magisterium's mages were also called upon to chase down the fugitives, even if it meant venturing to the world's edge. The patriarch Alasdair's palace was no exception, swarming with both guards and magi as they dragged Aunt Florence Crimsonmane out kicking and screaming.
"What are you doing to me, damn it! Let me go! You can't drag me like this. I'm innocent! Let go or I'll destroy all of you. Don’t you know I am a witch of the esteemed House Crimsonmane!"
Aunt Florence's struggle did not awaken the patriotism of the housemaids. Her husband, Ulysses, was left speechless after learning that Florence was involved in an international cabal of wizarding terror. Elsewhere, Spencer, Doyle, John, and Aimee—fellow kin of the Crimsonmane lineage—faced arrest within the confines of their abode. Of course, they did not hand themselves as voluntary prisoners; they ought to feel the heat of lead and the sting of mana before surrendering their limbs to the manacles.
Though only a scant of Crimsonmanes were known to have conspired, it was folly to assume that they were alone in their perfidy. Under the guise of anticipation, Grand Magus Haddock had decreed interrogations for every member of the Crimsonmane clan, save for the three dwellers of Trinketshore residents. Through tiring interrogations, they unfurled new culprits lurking in the shadows. They found not only Crimsonmanes but also men from certain circles. Some were from other wizarding houses, while others were government officials. The capturing process was chaotic, with suspects playing cat and mouse with magic brooms, setting ablaze several residential blocks, and fanatical supporters staging protests. Capturing these people was like detaining wild horses on a steep slope. This massive hunt severely damaged the Crimsonmane's reputation and lowered people's trust in the Camelot royal hierarchy.
The attempt to seize Orb back then was a grand blunder. The authorities found and arrested a multitude beyond their initial estimation. This was worrying. How could these cases spread to the dark side of the government? It was possible that those honourable servants of the country ended up against the country itself!
But with all those big catches, the authorities were struck by a thousand misfortunes. They found nothing out of those throngs. All the suspects could neither tell the name of the organisation they served nor the mastermind behind the grand scheme. The suspects' minds were shrouded, preventing them from revealing anything, even though they knew and were willing to share the truth. Their memories lingered at the nerve endings, ready to be spoken, but something was holding them back. They remembered, but they also forgot. They knew, but "knew not".
Every conceivable way was pursued by the Magisterium, yet all yielded nought. Meticulous inquiry, torment, mind-reading, and the coercive extraction of knowledge to motleys of spells—all left the Grand Magus Lachlan Haddock and all the authorities puzzled. They still hit the same dead end.
"You absolutely didn't find anything?" Donar asked Haddock in an office at the Wizarding Prison Complex. A box building covered in grey paint (or perhaps plain cement) was used as an interim office of the Magisterium while Skycastle was being rebuilt.
"Not at all, 'My Lord'," replied the Grand Magus. "But I found this."
Several photographs were presented to Baron Trinketshoree, each depicting distinct scenes: a letter, a wall, the interior of a hidden chamber. After a thorough examination, Baron Donar found similarities between all of them; there was a symbol emblazoned on it. An eye with horns facing sideways—one nestled at the eye's corner, the other upon the upper arch not far from the first. He saw the symbol painted large on the wall and discreetly marked on the envelope's reverse. He also noticed intricate characters in the letter's photo that eluded his recognition. Maybe some kind of communication code? Whatever those were, none of them helped.
"I glimpsed a symbol...," Donar began.
"Yes," Haddock affirmed.
"The Crimsonmanes are part of the 'saviours' too, are they not? I thought the things my family only comes to mind arenae far from wealth and power."
"Oh, don’t worry yourself, Donar. That's still most of your family." A sardonic grin played across his features.
"But this is all you've found?"
"Other than the nauseous 'save the world from the adversity' blarney? Aye, that's all we've found for now."
"What about the writings on the documents and the walls?"
"That's one of the issues. No one knows what the writings mean. The epigraphers are trying to decrypt the meaning of them. Well, though, they still don't know what to describe. The writing used does not have the equivalent of known characters, not even the historical basis."
The two of them just leaned back and sighed in resignation. Donar took a sip of his cold whiskey, while Haddock indulged in a puff of the cigar that had been neglected in the ashtray before Donar followed suit.
The Grand Magus's brown cigar dangled listlessly from his lips, and a wispy trail of smoke dispersed as he sighed. Not even a roll of a quality cigar could lighten the wizard's burden, and Haddock wore his desperation openly. "Furthermore, what kind of magic did the mastermind cast? A forbidden one of some sort? We've tried to undo it by any means, even with Arcane. Nothing."
"At this rate, there's no point in imprisoning more men. It's even considered as arresting with prejudice." Donar agreed, "I just hope it's not a vain work. What my wife has done… wasnae in vain, either."
The silence that followed gripped their bones as Donar broached the subject of his wife in front of the Grand Magus. The two locked gazes while savouring their whiskey. One could not tell why men were foolproof to play with the look on their faces. Baron Trinketshore saw what the Grand Magus saw; clear eyes, a blank stare, loose eyebrows, creases that told a story of battles fought and lost. It was the wrinkles on the face born of age, the difference between Haddock's sight of Donar.
Haddock broke that temporal silence, "We've had worse—"
"This is definitely the worst of all, Grand Magus," cut Donar.
"Okay, this is the worst," Haddock conceded. "And we'll sort it out again as we've always done, as long as we're patient. Finding new angles might help. This new office of mine might help. You know, like looking at these cement walls. Seeking inspiration behind those grey walls that looked unique, or lazy. Ah, or the moment I’ll take your daughter out on a trip tomorrow to reveal her fateful path. That would be fun, and inspiring. Either way, we'll figure something out. Once again, Lord Donar, do not worry yourself."
The middle-aged man let out another sigh. "About tomorrow. I don't know, can't you just tell her on the spot and just send one of the monks here? Why go all the way to realise that ‘great destiny'?"
"But Donar, she does have a great destiny. And that destiny requires her to investigate the world… You ought to expect that she will leave you soon."
"Why don't you just tell me right here what this is about, so I can tell her everything? Let me also personally hire a Celestian monk to train my daughter."
Haddock leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if searching for an answer in the swirling smoke. "What difference does it make? She will leave you regardless. It's her destiny. Camelot has already proven too dangerous for her. She must go, find the others, and save the world."
"Save the world," Donar's giggle held a tinge of mockery. "What does that 'save the world' even mean? It sounded daft when you utter it out loud in this day and age. Saving the world." Another scoff punctuated his words.
With a creak, Haddock retrieved an ancient tome from his desk drawer and found the desired page. He slid the book across the table to the Baron. "It sounded daft because the current state of this world is just hopeless. But if you really want to know what her destiny is..."
Confusion knitted Donar's brow as he examined the contents. Something was amiss. When he closed the book and looked at the cover, annoyance tinged his expression.
"What’s wrong with you? Yer playing with me, pal?"
"Hey, that was my first reaction, and so will your daughter's. But I don't think this author was wrong. You saw it yourself. The content describes your daughter just right."
Donar held his head, shaking it. "I've never felt this ridiculous. You're making me even more doubtful."
"Please don't be doubtful."
"I'm not ready to lose someone I love again."
"Even though I'm younger than you, 'My Lord', I have gleaned the lesson on letting go. We shall all face losses, Donar, sooner or later. Instead of idling, it is better to take the risk and fulfil the mandate given to us.”
"No wonder you have almost no friends. Not even a soul mate."
"Hey, easy now. Have faith in your daughter. She wielded her mother's strength."
"Strength. Aye, right. Look at what has befallen Ailsa."
"Alicia will not share the same fate, Donar. She will find the others and succeed in fulfilling her prophecy. She must succeed. Otherwise, this world is no more!"
Checking the time on his watch, Donar took a sip of his last whiskey and stood. Just before turning around, he begged Haddock, "Promise you'll protect my daughter if you have to take her to Vanir."
Haddock nodded. "Question no more. I'm trying my best."
Try my best. A bit of worry stuck in the Baron's heart. At least Haddock was honest. Alicia could not remain here forever, it just made her even easier to find. Perhaps the lass should indeed be released into the outside world, facing the path that has been prepared for her. Fatherly instinct still clung to him, but he could also heave a sigh of relief. Her daughter had a purpose in life now. He just hoped that the Silent Divine guide her away from harm's reach. []
Civil guards were dispatched to every corner of Camelot to apprehend the Crimsonmane mages responsible for the failed assassination attempt on the Donar family. The Magisterium's mages were also called upon to chase down the fugitives, even if it meant venturing to the world's edge. The patriarch Alasdair's palace was no exception, swarming with both guards and magi as they dragged Aunt Florence Crimsonmane out kicking and screaming.
"What are you doing to me, damn it! Let me go! You can't drag me like this. I'm innocent! Let go or I'll destroy all of you. Don’t you know I am a witch of the esteemed House Crimsonmane!"
Aunt Florence's struggle did not awaken the patriotism of the housemaids. Her husband, Ulysses, was left speechless after learning that Florence was involved in an international cabal of wizarding terror. Elsewhere, Spencer, Doyle, John, and Aimee—fellow kin of the Crimsonmane lineage—faced arrest within the confines of their abode. Of course, they did not hand themselves as voluntary prisoners; they ought to feel the heat of lead and the sting of mana before surrendering their limbs to the manacles.
Though only a scant of Crimsonmanes were known to have conspired, it was folly to assume that they were alone in their perfidy. Under the guise of anticipation, Grand Magus Haddock had decreed interrogations for every member of the Crimsonmane clan, save for the three dwellers of Trinketshore residents. Through tiring interrogations, they unfurled new culprits lurking in the shadows. They found not only Crimsonmanes but also men from certain circles. Some were from other wizarding houses, while others were government officials. The capturing process was chaotic, with suspects playing cat and mouse with magic brooms, setting ablaze several residential blocks, and fanatical supporters staging protests. Capturing these people was like detaining wild horses on a steep slope. This massive hunt severely damaged the Crimsonmane's reputation and lowered people's trust in the Camelot royal hierarchy.
The attempt to seize Orb back then was a grand blunder. The authorities found and arrested a multitude beyond their initial estimation. This was worrying. How could these cases spread to the dark side of the government? It was possible that those honourable servants of the country ended up against the country itself!
But with all those big catches, the authorities were struck by a thousand misfortunes. They found nothing out of those throngs. All the suspects could neither tell the name of the organisation they served nor the mastermind behind the grand scheme. The suspects' minds were shrouded, preventing them from revealing anything, even though they knew and were willing to share the truth. Their memories lingered at the nerve endings, ready to be spoken, but something was holding them back. They remembered, but they also forgot. They knew, but "knew not".
Every conceivable way was pursued by the Magisterium, yet all yielded nought. Meticulous inquiry, torment, mind-reading, and the coercive extraction of knowledge to motleys of spells—all left the Grand Magus Lachlan Haddock and all the authorities puzzled. They still hit the same dead end.
"You absolutely didn't find anything?" Donar asked Haddock in an office at the Wizarding Prison Complex. A box building covered in grey paint (or perhaps plain cement) was used as an interim office of the Magisterium while Skycastle was being rebuilt.
"Not at all, 'My Lord'," replied the Grand Magus. "But I found this."
Several photographs were presented to Baron Trinketshoree, each depicting distinct scenes: a letter, a wall, the interior of a hidden chamber. After a thorough examination, Baron Donar found similarities between all of them; there was a symbol emblazoned on it. An eye with horns facing sideways—one nestled at the eye's corner, the other upon the upper arch not far from the first. He saw the symbol painted large on the wall and discreetly marked on the envelope's reverse. He also noticed intricate characters in the letter's photo that eluded his recognition. Maybe some kind of communication code? Whatever those were, none of them helped.
"I glimpsed a symbol...," Donar began.
"Yes," Haddock affirmed.
"The Crimsonmanes are part of the 'saviours' too, are they not? I thought the things my family only comes to mind arenae far from wealth and power."
"Oh, don’t worry yourself, Donar. That's still most of your family." A sardonic grin played across his features.
"But this is all you've found?"
"Other than the nauseous 'save the world from the adversity' blarney? Aye, that's all we've found for now."
"What about the writings on the documents and the walls?"
"That's one of the issues. No one knows what the writings mean. The epigraphers are trying to decrypt the meaning of them. Well, though, they still don't know what to describe. The writing used does not have the equivalent of known characters, not even the historical basis."
The two of them just leaned back and sighed in resignation. Donar took a sip of his cold whiskey, while Haddock indulged in a puff of the cigar that had been neglected in the ashtray before Donar followed suit.
The Grand Magus's brown cigar dangled listlessly from his lips, and a wispy trail of smoke dispersed as he sighed. Not even a roll of a quality cigar could lighten the wizard's burden, and Haddock wore his desperation openly. "Furthermore, what kind of magic did the mastermind cast? A forbidden one of some sort? We've tried to undo it by any means, even with Arcane. Nothing."
"At this rate, there's no point in imprisoning more men. It's even considered as arresting with prejudice." Donar agreed, "I just hope it's not a vain work. What my wife has done… wasnae in vain, either."
The silence that followed gripped their bones as Donar broached the subject of his wife in front of the Grand Magus. The two locked gazes while savouring their whiskey. One could not tell why men were foolproof to play with the look on their faces. Baron Trinketshore saw what the Grand Magus saw; clear eyes, a blank stare, loose eyebrows, creases that told a story of battles fought and lost. It was the wrinkles on the face born of age, the difference between Haddock's sight of Donar.
Haddock broke that temporal silence, "We've had worse—"
"This is definitely the worst of all, Grand Magus," cut Donar.
"Okay, this is the worst," Haddock conceded. "And we'll sort it out again as we've always done, as long as we're patient. Finding new angles might help. This new office of mine might help. You know, like looking at these cement walls. Seeking inspiration behind those grey walls that looked unique, or lazy. Ah, or the moment I’ll take your daughter out on a trip tomorrow to reveal her fateful path. That would be fun, and inspiring. Either way, we'll figure something out. Once again, Lord Donar, do not worry yourself."
The middle-aged man let out another sigh. "About tomorrow. I don't know, can't you just tell her on the spot and just send one of the monks here? Why go all the way to realise that ‘great destiny'?"
"But Donar, she does have a great destiny. And that destiny requires her to investigate the world… You ought to expect that she will leave you soon."
"Why don't you just tell me right here what this is about, so I can tell her everything? Let me also personally hire a Celestian monk to train my daughter."
Haddock leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if searching for an answer in the swirling smoke. "What difference does it make? She will leave you regardless. It's her destiny. Camelot has already proven too dangerous for her. She must go, find the others, and save the world."
"Save the world," Donar's giggle held a tinge of mockery. "What does that 'save the world' even mean? It sounded daft when you utter it out loud in this day and age. Saving the world." Another scoff punctuated his words.
With a creak, Haddock retrieved an ancient tome from his desk drawer and found the desired page. He slid the book across the table to the Baron. "It sounded daft because the current state of this world is just hopeless. But if you really want to know what her destiny is..."
Confusion knitted Donar's brow as he examined the contents. Something was amiss. When he closed the book and looked at the cover, annoyance tinged his expression.
"What’s wrong with you? Yer playing with me, pal?"
"Hey, that was my first reaction, and so will your daughter's. But I don't think this author was wrong. You saw it yourself. The content describes your daughter just right."
Donar held his head, shaking it. "I've never felt this ridiculous. You're making me even more doubtful."
"Please don't be doubtful."
"I'm not ready to lose someone I love again."
"Even though I'm younger than you, 'My Lord', I have gleaned the lesson on letting go. We shall all face losses, Donar, sooner or later. Instead of idling, it is better to take the risk and fulfil the mandate given to us.”
"No wonder you have almost no friends. Not even a soul mate."
"Hey, easy now. Have faith in your daughter. She wielded her mother's strength."
"Strength. Aye, right. Look at what has befallen Ailsa."
"Alicia will not share the same fate, Donar. She will find the others and succeed in fulfilling her prophecy. She must succeed. Otherwise, this world is no more!"
Checking the time on his watch, Donar took a sip of his last whiskey and stood. Just before turning around, he begged Haddock, "Promise you'll protect my daughter if you have to take her to Vanir."
Haddock nodded. "Question no more. I'm trying my best."
Try my best. A bit of worry stuck in the Baron's heart. At least Haddock was honest. Alicia could not remain here forever, it just made her even easier to find. Perhaps the lass should indeed be released into the outside world, facing the path that has been prepared for her. Fatherly instinct still clung to him, but he could also heave a sigh of relief. Her daughter had a purpose in life now. He just hoped that the Silent Divine guide her away from harm's reach. []
