My days became a bit of a blur as of late. Not because so much was happening, but because my phone completely ran out of juice, so it was harder to keep track of time. It also didn't help that I slowly but surely fell into an odd daily rhythm. I would chill during the night, when there was nobody to spy on using Far Sight, then eat breakfast with Ollie, then sneak out of the prison and explore the winding streets of Eanna and scout the vicinity of the castle for potential entry points, just in case, before stopping by at the usual salon to listen to rumours and get updates on the whole Celestial communicator thing. After an afternoon spent like that, I would sneak back into the prison, much to the Faunish warden's mounting aggravation, and then play with Ollie, eat dinner, and do more Far Sighting.  It would've been relaxing if not for the sneaky-business being a tad stressful, but by this point, I marked enough of the Fauns during my escapades so that avoiding their patrols was getting easier over time, despite their increasing frequency. Such as right now. The idea that someone was coming in and out of the prison was such anathema to their logic, they still refused to station more guards around the cave entrance, and the Warmaster focused all his attention on the walls and gates instead. I've also seen them start carrying oversized crossbows around, and from what I overheard, they were anti-air weapons with bolts designed to explode mid-air and create a net, or more like a spider's web, to entangle and trap any fliers. Of course, since I wasn't flying, their paying more attention to the sky only made my job easier. I waited for the pair of Faun guards to make their round, and after they both turned their backs on me, I broke into a dash and leapt over the perimeter wall at the usual spot. I could hear some sort of commotion after landing, so maybe a more distant patrol caught a glimpse of me. Note to self: Use a different entry point on the way back. That was about as much attention as I gave to the whole topic, as I was already dashing across the street and disappearing into the network of alleys. My forays into the city made me familiar with these nooks and crannies, and so after a couple of twists and turns, I emerged from the Castle District and headed directly to the main shopping street of Eanna, and the familiar establishment on it. With some luck, this could be the last trip I needed to make for a while, if ever, but I wasn't in a hurry. I timed my 'escape' to the morning shift, so that there would be slightly fewer guards to worry about, meaning I was quite early. For what? The scheduled meeting with Ol' Armagnac (we were on a first-name basis now) and his very important and very smart and very well-connected and so on nephew, of course. I've been meeting up with the friendly old man and listening to his updates every single day, and at last, there seemed to be some progress beyond vague promises and insistent reassurances. Since I had some time on my hands, I didn't head over to the salon right away, but did some window-shopping instead. I could've bought something if I really wanted to, but the only item that interested me right now was a phone charger, and they obviously didn't sell any of those here in the Abyss. I didn't have a lot of money either; just some pocket change I won with cards. Gambling was bad, and cheating with Far Sight only made it worse, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I didn't exactly rob the other players blind either; I first borrowed some starting funds, and then played just enough to pay that back, plus for my drinks. I couldn't exactly rely on future-me, pardon, 'my good friend Antonio Balderdash', to pay for my tabs all the time. More importantly though, while I had a bit of pocket money now, I couldn't even sample some local cuisine, because the spice situation was more dire than I expected. That put a stop to my gastronomical expeditions before they even began. Beyond that, there wasn't much else I needed, so I kept wandering the shopping district for a while, and soon I found myself paying more attention to the placeholders around me than the displays. As I'd noted before, the average Abyssal placeholder was more distinct and, though it was always in the eye of the beholder, more attractive than the average Critias placeholder. On the flip side though, they were considerably stiffer, and whenever they encountered something strange or unusual, they would just completely ignore it and continue on with their daily schedule. If I had to guess, I'd have said they never had the opportunity to develop beyond their basic role due to a lack of Free Actors inside the Abyss. With me being here, I was half-curious if it would cause them to change over time, but for the moment, being a bit robotic and only mildly responsive was to my advantage when it came to blending in or glossing over my occasionally odd actions. Such as jumping over walls or climbing to rooftops just to perch on gargoyles. Those kinds of stuff. Anyhow, time passed slowly as I continued my observations, and as soon as I felt it was appropriate, I beelined towards the salon. I was a familiar face by now, so I was enthusiastically greeted by the regulars, as well as the barkeep. "Welcome. You're early today." "I had something to take care of in town," I answered off-handedly and glanced around. "Sir Armagnac isn't here yet." "I can see that." Exhaling a long breath, I gestured towards the table at the far corner of the floor. "I'll take a seat and wait for him." "Please do so." He picked up a tall glass, and after giving it a light polish with a clean green cloth, he placed it onto the counter. "The usual?" As soon as I responded, he reached back and took a dark bottle off the racks. He popped it open, then poured about half of its contents, an aromatic red liquid, into the glass before handing it over to me. It wasn't exactly up to Brang's standards, nor was it a cocktail, but I accepted it all the same and headed to the aforementioned table. I wasn't sure if it was part of Abyssal culture or if this place was the odd one out, but there were no servers or waiters. Everyone here picked up their drinks at the counter and carried them themselves, with the bartender being the only visible employee. As for the drink itself, it was some kind of wine. I never caught its proper name, but it was considered to be the 'weakest' alcoholic drink here, and I could attest to that. I wasn't a big fan of booze, to begin with, but this thing was so light, it felt more like grape juice. It didn't even give me a buzz or anything, which I also appreciated. Still, I didn't want to develop a bad habit, so I limited myself to one glass per visit, which the regulars considered to be 'cute'. Anyhow, once I sat down and consumed about half my drink, I leaned back and closed my eyes. I wasn't in the mood to chap up the patrons for rumours (not that there were a lot of them around at this time of day), so I closed my eyes and proceeded to do a make the Far Sight rounds, just to pass the time. Normally it would've made sense to start by checking up on the gang, but today was the final stretch of the exam season, and they were currently doing tests after tests ad nauseum. Luckily, some other targets weren't shackled to the school system. "Sir Brang. What are you not telling me?" I found Roland inside the armoury of the base, and he was staring daggers at the old Faun casually sharpening the tip of a spear on an electric grinding wheel. "Your question. This old one, understands not." Roland looked like he was about to snap at him, but he couldn't, because he had to wait for him to finish grinding the edge first. As soon as the ear-piercing noise stopped, he raised his voice into a near-shout. "You and your men have been operating outside of Haven without any prior notice or orders." Seeing that Brang paused his work, Roland toned down the volume. "Would you care to explain yourself?" The old Faun met his eyes and, after swivelling his ears a bit, he flashed a harmless smile. "Training exercise. Not suspicious." "You do understand that saying that only makes your activities more suspicious, don't you?" At last, the Faun general let out a low grunt and admitted, "Also doing favor to little heir. Not suspicious, also." From the sound of it (and what I'd seen before), the Fauns were helping Snowy, who was in turn helping Tajana set up the trap for the arch-mage with the anger-management problems, so he technically wasn't lying. Roland still didn't look satisfied, but he eventually gave up (or decided to be the bigger man, one or the other) and exhaled a soft groan. "Fine. Just make sure you at least try to write down a reasonable excuse next time. You know that in Leonard's absence, I have to take care of all the documentation related to Haven's operations too, right?" "Much responsibility." He tried to make that sound sagacious, but I immediately noticed the mischievous glint in the old Faun's eyes. "Must relax more. Spend time with loved ones. Maybe young master of spies?" "She's not a…" the man tried to argue back, but then he also finally recognised Brang's expression and he bit back the end of his sentence. "Never mind. I don't even know where she is nowadays, and… This conversation is over." The general lightly inclined his head, looking eminently amused, while our Sir Griffon turned on his heels and left the armoury. I could've followed him, but since she came up in conversation, I decided to Far Glance at our very own Abyssal spymaster next. To my surprise, I found her in a familiar alley near Hotel de Luxe. Once again, she was dressed in her ridiculously conspicuous brown trench coat that would've looked out of place in the sunny, nearly-summer weather even if she wasn't skulking in a way that practically screamed 'I'm a suspicious person, call the police'. Despite the previous praise I gave to the placeholders on the island, nobody spared more than a glance at her… or the similarly dressed man by her side. "He's been in for too long. Should we abort the operation?" Needless to say, I only knew one other person on the island who considered oversized brown trench coats and large Panama hats to be a low-key disguise, and Jaakobah didn't look particularly thrilled to be there. Still, ever the dutiful agent, he didn't complain and his gaze remained on the building like a hawk eyeing its next prey. "Negative," the young spymaster hissed back without taking her eyes off the target. "Penelope's infiltration already proved that My Lady's concealment charms are effective against the Wingless Ones' detection sorceries, and this operation should be much easier to accomplish." Googlᴇ search novel·fıre·net "I understand, but if he does get caught, we…" The Celestial Prefect tried to argue, yet before he could gather steam, his eyes narrowed and he pointed at the main entrance of the Hotel. "I see some movement. The automatic doors opened on their own. It might be him." "Where?" Tajana craned her neck, only to belatedly realise that, without a Sigil of her own, she couldn't see the infiltrator even if she tried, so she forcefully cleared her throat and amended, "Let's wait and see." Jaakobah was right on the money, as I quickly discerned a dash of orange light weaving through the guests and the passers-by in front of the building, making sure not to make physical contact with anyone. It took a few minutes and some borderline slapstick antics, but the concealed Faun finally managed to reach Tajana's location. It was only at this point that I recognised that it wasn't one of Tajana's Fauns, but Karukk of all people. "[Haha! The deed is done!]" he declared in a loud voice that made a few placeholder heads turn. The Abyssal woman hissed something inaudible at him, and the three of them hurriedly retreated further into the alley. It was only when they were sure that there weren't any stray eyes on them that Karukk continued his report with a laconic, "Letter delivered. As instructed." He didn't speak Faunish this time, probably for the Celestial's benefit. "It took longer than expected. Were there any complications?" Jaakobah inquired with just a hint of concern, but the Faun shook his head and vaguely gestured towards the direction of the hotel. "Waited until picked up. By men in robes. Made sure it reached target." "Good." Tajana honest-to-goodness rubbed her hands together and added, "The plan is slowly but surely coming together." She sounded nefarious enough that, for the first time since forever, I could believe she was an actual professional espionage manager. The only remaining question was what that plan was and if it was any good, but unless the trio abruptly decided to start having an 'as you know' style infodump between the three of them, I probably wasn't going to learn much. I still followed them for a while, but all I learned was that they were preparing some kind of misdirection, or maybe a bait, and that Jaakobah was indirectly involved with it. I wished I could just shift my point of view over to the Canadian arch-mage and learn the details through her reading the letter in question, but since I still didn't have a mark on her or any of her entourage, that wasn't an option. The same couldn't be said about the other arch-mages, and while Lord Barnabas, Gulliver, and Taika were busy with the exams, the same couldn't be said about Ambrose, so once I got bored with following the unlikely trio, I Far Glanced at him next. I almost moved on right away, because I found him casually strolling through the school building with a satisfied grin on his face. He recovered considerably since our jaunt in Ottawa, and while he was still using a walking cane, he did that even before the incident, so it didn't mean much. More importantly, it wasn't until I realised that he was heading for the headmaster's office that I decided to stick with him and see what he was about to do, and as expected, he threw the door open without even knocking. "Listen to this, Amadeus!" Our resident arch-mage looked up from the book he was holding and sent a withering glare at the bearded man in the doorway. He was sitting behind his desk and surrounded by school documents, though it was paltry compared to the paperwork I had to deal with before coming here. "I wonder since when are we close enough to call me so informally?" Endymonion grumbled, but it only made the other arch-mage scoff and close the door behind himself by tapping his cane against the floor. It wasn't a proper spell, so… did Ambrose make an enchantment or a quick cantrip just for dramatically closing doors like that? Considering who we were talking about, I wouldn't have put it beyond him. "Bah, don't give me that! We're in the same boat now, so might as well get comfortable!" He tapped his cane on the ground again, as if for emphasis, but I could see the magical film expanding from the point of impact and covering the room from the inside, so I was pretty sure it was the trigger for a privacy spell of some kind. "Where was I? Ah, right! Listen, Amadeus! I called in a few favors the other day, and Kiama, you know? The chubby black girl with the glasses from the Tower of Mysticism? I asked her to cut through some of the usual procedures and check the Grimoire, and she confirmed that it was bound, and she already spread the news!" "That… is certainly advantageous to us, if true," Endymonion noted with mild interest and finally put his book down. "But I do not believe that this is the only reason why you would invade the sanctuary of my office." "Sanctuary my arse," Ambrose griped, but then he tapped his cane against the floor again, though this time without any magical effects. "You're right though. Listen up: It's not official yet, but she also told me that the Tower of Mysticism has our backs during the next Assembly Gathering! If the Tower of Illusion stays neutral, it means we can send that old shrew packing!" While that should've been good news, Lord Grandpa's expression remained cloudy. "The next Gathering is on the summer solstice. That is almost three weeks from now." "Only three weeks," Ambrose argued back. "And by then, maybe we can convince the Tower of Alteration to also . I tell you, Marzanna is finished." "You may say so, but if anything, it only makes me anxious. Once she realizes she is cornered, I am afraid she might resort to drastic measures." "Oh, please!" Ambrose waved his hand in front of his face, as if chasing away a fly, and let out a throaty scoff. "The old bint is a few cards short of a full deck, but even she isn't deranged enough to try something when we have this many eyes and hands on the island!" Wow. So I wasn't the only one who liked to tempt fate. I was curious how Lord Grandpa would respond, but I sensed a change around my body, so I hastily returned it and opened my eyes. "Ah! I thought you were asleep!" I blinked, and once my sight adjusted to the lighting of the salon, I found it filled with the round face of Sir Armagnac. He was leaning over the table, and by the looks of it, he was just about to poke me to get my attention. He reached for a handkerchief to wipe his forehead, as if he was completely innocent. In response, I told him, "I was just resting my eyes," and glanced around the table. The stout Abyssal wasn't alone this time, as he was followed by a fresh-faced young man sporting a crop so short he was nearly bald and a quilted black-and-red gambeson. He also looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn't quite place him yet. "Is he the nephew you mentioned?" "It's a pleasure to meet you, sir," the young man interjected, but remained stock still and didn't offer a hand or any other form of greeting. If anything, he looked nervous in my presence, as if trying to stay as far from the table as possible. That… didn't bode well, but for the moment, I pretended I didn't notice and flashed a friendly smile. "I could say the same. Come, take a seat. I presume you found an item matching my description?" "I…" The man in the cloth armour glanced between me, his uncle, and even over his shoulder, and he ultimately shook his head. "The item you're looking for… Isn't… I mean, there is one, but I couldn't bring it myself, so I arranged a meeting with its owner." "Is that so?" I eyed the man for a while, and after sufficiently stilling my face, I let out a dramatic sigh. "I didn't expect that this would turn out to be such a hassle." "N-No, it's not a hassle. It's just that…" It was at this point that the door of the salon opened, and the young man's expression immediately eased. "Ah, she's finally here." "She?" I blurted out even as I observed the newcomer. She was fairly short and wearing a gothic-style black dress that kind of reminded me of mourning clothes. I couldn't see her face, as she had a cowl over her head, and she didn't even bother to greet the barkeep before beelining in our direction with measured steps and a straight-backed bearing. "Good work," she spoke in a raspy voice as she unceremoniously sat down at the opposite end of the table and made a gesture at the two men. "Ensure that nobody eavesdrops. And I know it's a lot to ask of you, but be subtle about it." "Yes, Matron!" the short-haired man responded promptly, drawing a groan out of the woman. "I knew it was too much to ask for…" "Excuse me, but did you say 'matron' just now?" I blurted out without much thinking, and after a long beat, she took off her hood and stared at me with her piercing blue eyes. It was a familiar face; the elderly woman had a regal bearing, and while her hair bun was smaller than usual (probably so that it could fit under the cowl), the wrinkles etched into her skin and the profoundly disapproving expression on her face made her hard to mistake for anyone else. In fact, I should've realised something was off the moment the guy in the gambeson looked familiar, but it was only now that I recognised both of them from my Far Sight sessions on Crowy. In other words, Sir Armagnac wasn't kidding when he said his nephew was part of his inner circle after all. More alarmingly, the old woman here kept staring at me, as if trying to look past me, and just as I was starting to feel awkward enough to break the ice, she let out a soft scoff. "You're less impressive in the flesh than expected…" She began, only for the tiniest of smiles to creep onto her lips. It was anything but a friendly expression, though. "Or are you, 'Archon' Polemos?" Well, crap. That escalated quick, didn't it?