25 March 1686 of the 6th Era, The Docks, Ledavia, Enua

  Antony briskly walked down the street while still trying to retain a respectable appearance. One more page, I have enough time. And then another. And then one more, because there were but a few left till the end of the chapter.

  And now he was running awfully late. If his pocket watch was accurate, and he was fairly certain that it was, Fair Melody had already entered the harbour. Most likely, her passengers were also standing both feet on the ground. While there was still hope that the customs people were taking their sweet time as they usually did… No. Knowing his luck, they already waved her through, having asked their standard set of questions.

  Antony manoeuvred his way through the crowd, finally arriving at the pier, and leaned on a nearby lamp post as he tried to catch his breath. There was no doubt that he was in the right place: people leaving the pier and walking towards their friends, relatives, and business partners were all, with but a few exceptions, wearing colourful spring coats, fully unsuited for the harsh March weather. Quite a few were shivering or complaining about the awful northern wind, while those returning home from a long trip or just more knowledgeable about the local climate buried their faces in warm scarves to hide their smug grins as they walked past their hapless co-passengers. Antony, too, briefly smiled as he remembered finding himself in a similarly comical situation when he came to Lindau, the capital of Lundhaven by the same ship some three hundred years ago. Only that it was in reverse. At least all he had to do was take off his winter coat and throw it over his luggage. Some of these people, by the looks of it, would either have to make do with a couple extra layers or pray for the conditions to change for the better. By far not all could easily afford to buy a winter coat on a whim.

  Hopefully she didn’t wander off because she got bored or thought I wasn’t coming. Now what did she… He suddenly covered his face with his hand, realising something. It was so obvious, and yet he never thought of it, not even for a minute, and now he felt like an absolute idiot.

  “Excuse me? Are you Mr Antony Levy?”

  The voice was unfamiliar, with a strong Lundish accent. He quickly turned towards the source and almost lost balance, having to grab the lamp post for extra support. In front of him stood a petite winterborn sylph woman with pale, almost unnaturally so, skin, sharp blue eyes, and unruly curly white hair that shimmered in the sun. It reminded him of pristine snow somewhere high in the mountains, a stark contrast to the muddy half thawed piles around them. She was dressed rather plainly – a warm black winter coat, a long black dress visible underneath it, and a somewhat old-fashioned, but still elegant hat. That appearance, however, was rather deceitful: the cost of the fabric, by Antony’s most reserved estimates, ran up to a couple hundred gold pounds, and the intricate embroidery on the sleeves and the dress easily added another couple hundred. The little brooch adorning her chest and the earrings she was wearing, too, spoke of a certain level of wealth, but were also modest enough that they didn’t immediately attract attention.

  “Apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you”, she awkwardly clutched the grip of her surprisingly small suitcase and politely curtsied, “Charlotte Dawntreader. Thank you for finding the time to meet me.”

  He bowed in return, a trifle deeper than he usually would, duly noticing the gentle reprimand in her voice, “I hope you didn’t have to wait for too long?”

  “No. Maybe about an hour or so,” she chuckled, seeing all colour rapidly drain from his face. “Don’t worry about it. It was for the better, really. At least the ground has stopped swaying under my feet… Mostly.”

  “Oh,” he seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. “Right. Of course. Sea sickness?”

  She nodded, eyeing him with a bit of concern, bemused by his reaction, “I prefer teleports, but the distance between Lundhaven and Enua is just too great. Besides, I’m here as a private individual, so asking favours from the church…”

  “I thought you were here in an official capacity?”

  “By no means, no. I’m merely helping a friend,” she shook her head vigorously, then added, “Are you quite alright? You look rather nervous. Terrified, even. I hope I didn’t say or do something to cause that?”

  “My apologies,” he mustered an awkward smile and rubbed the bridge of his nose, trying to calm down. How could he explain his bizarre behaviour? “I all but ran here. You simply caught me off guard as I was about to go looking for you, when,” he paused and cleared his throat, grinning, “when I began to realise that you never told me what you look like, and I never bothered to look up a portrait of yours. Thankfully you saved me the embarrassment by instantly recognising me.”

  “You can thank Eth- Professor Goshawk for that,” she pulled away a strand of hair from her face. “He gave me quite a vivid description of your appearance on a number of occasions, which also happened to include the fact that you wear thick rimmed glasses and are exceptionally tall for a dusk elf. Seeing someone like that appear near the pier in a bit of a hurry… Not that hard to put two and two together. He also mentioned you being all but married to your work. I hope I am–”

  “Oh, no,” he stopped her. “I could pretend it to be the case to save face, but I’d rather come clean. Are you familiar with Sir Fleming’s books?”

  “Ah.”

  “I might have gotten carried away,” Antony admitted, lowering his head in apology. “Maybe to a point where I might be mixing up reality and fiction.”

  “I’m not a spy, Mr Levy,” judging by the cheerful tone of her voice, she was satisfied with the reply, at least for the time being. “Though I guess I might pass for the mysterious woman that tends to appear twenty to thirty pages into each book, watch the events unfold and then silently walk back into the darkness.”

  If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “You’re even dressed for the part,” he laughed, but almost instantly stopped and straightened up. Thankfully, Lady Dawntreader seemed to either not care or didn’t consider such behaviour a faux pas. “Dear Lady of Magic, where are my manners. Do you need help with anything? Additional luggage, perhaps? And where are you staying, if I may ask? If you need help getting there…”

  “Just this suitcase,” Charlotte raised her luggage slightly, also indicating that she had no plans to hand the thing over to him, and Antony wisely decided to refrain from insisting any further. “As for where I am staying,” she rummaged in her pocket and produced a small card with an address written in an elegant hand. “This should be the place. I had some time to ask around about it while I was trying to readjust to walking on land again. It should be somewhere in the West District from what I understand?”

  “A fair distance from here. About an hour by foot, but much faster if you take a cab.”

  “No cabs, please. I’d rather walk, even if it takes the entire day and then some,” she replied firmly, her cheeks becoming somewhat red.

  “Understood. Hopefully you don’t mind some company?” He offered, pointing in the general direction of the city centre. “I really feel sorry for my tardiness, and if I can make it up to you in any way…”

  “I gladly accept. As a matter of fact, I was hoping you could show me around.”

  “Would be my pleasure. Forgive me for asking so many questions. Your letters were rather devoid of details regarding your visit, apart from the overall purpose. Are you planning to stay here for long?”

  “Only until I’m done with this case.”

  He nodded and led her through the crowd and into one of the largest streets of Ledavia, towards her everbusy commercial district.

  And while on the outside he managed to regain his composure, on the inside raged a storm of emotions. When she first approached him, he saw something he was not supposed to see.

  Lady of Magic help me. The information in those archives was correct. She really, truly is the Destined Avatar…

  ******

  25 March 1686 of the 6th Era, Smith Road, West District

  Charlotte finished unpacking and walked over to the writing desk. A cozy room, all things considered. A small drawing room with a set of armchairs and a low table in the middle, a desk, and a chair. A separate bedroom with a private bathroom. And all of this for a price that wasn’t about to bankrupt her, provided she solved the case within the next three weeks. And for that, she needed a miracle, for the trail had already gone cold.

  "Why did I even agree to look into this?"

  She sighed and opened her notepad, lazily turning the pages. The obvious answer was – to get a change of scenery, to not deal with yet another necromancer, or would be necromancer, or would be but not quite necromancer. Just your average case of robbery turned murder, a wrongly accused young man, and a distraught fiancèe trying to get justice for both of them.

  She first met Laureen Quist while still studying at the university. A charming young woman, promising alchemist and researcher, she quickly reached a certain level of renown in the scientific world. It took little time until she received an offer from the Enuan Royal Alchemy Society and moved across the continent, exchanging the wonderful climate of Lindau for better work and study opportunities of Ledavia.

  For years, they exchanged birthday cards and sometimes letters, mostly when either of them required help from the other to conduct their studies. Until that fateful day in February when Laureen herself showed up on Charlotte’s porch, restless and inconsolable. Her fiance, Mr Robert Brook, was being accused of stealing a precious piece of jewelry and a rather hefty sum of money from his present employer, a certain Lord Leonard Welz, murdering him in the process, and the local authorities were doing nothing to thoroughly investigate the case.

  And why would they, really? The missing money was found at Mr Brook’s house, and he was taken into custody while trying to cross the border to Nakara, to visit his nephew, according to his explanation. While it wasn’t clear what motive he could have had to kill his employer, the found money and the fact that he had no alibi and was otherwise behaving rather shiftily were enough grounds for arrest and further accusations. Or, rather, had Nakaran roots, which equalled shifty behaviour and instantly diminished his chances for a fair trial to almost zero.

  Sadly, there was no way to investigate the matter by asking Lord Welz’s spirit: the perpetrator wisely beheaded the man and took the head with them, which meant that Speak with Dead was useless. The chance of someone hearing or seeing something and keeping the information to themself was also exceptionally low as it happened in the dead of the night during a raging blizzard. For whatever reason Lord Welz sent all of his staff away on the evening before, and his family members were all conveniently attending some social gathering or other. From what Charlotte could gather, a number of them were gifted mages, but nothing so far indicated that any of them had used teleportation or illusion magic.

  Laureen could not prove Mr Brook’s innocence. It was more of a general feeling and blind belief that she would not date, yet alone decide to marry someone capable of taking another’s life. However, that conviction of hers was so strong that Charlotte finally gave in and agreed to take on the case, warning the woman that it was wholly possible she would come to the same conclusion as the officials. To which Laureen agreed, although without much enthusiasm.

  And while Charlotte felt her friend’s pain and need for justice… There was something else to it. A certain discord, an uneasiness that settled in her heart the moment Laureen entered her house. For whatever reason she felt that the case was not as simple. The stolen jewellery was never recovered, giving an ephemeral glimpse of hope to those believing in Mr Brook’s innocence. It was, of course, also possible that he had discarded the thing, whatever it was, having realised that selling it was impossible. Either way, it warranted further investigation.

  Now, the only question that remained was where to even begin. She wasn’t in Lindau, with her hundreds of connections, affiliations, acquaintances way up high. No. Enua was a completely unknown country to her, rather conservative in many ways, and a single misstep could mean the end to her inquiry before it even began.

  Deep in thought, she looked outside the window, trying to consider her next actions. Not that she hadn’t done that before or arrived here without a plan, no. On the contrary. However, a lot hinged on one person agreeing to be her guide and assistant, and right now she was by no means certain he would accept the request, even though he had initially carefully expressed such a notion in their previous correspondence exchange.

  Truly, what was that reaction? It was almost as if he had seen a ghost standing right next to her, which, she knew, was most definitely not the case. Unless, of course, he mistook her for a ghost, or… Could it be?..

  She checked the clock and quickly stood up. Right, this was the far North, and this time of the year, sunsets already happened much later than they would in the south.

  Charlotte put on her hat and coat and checked her reflection in the mirror, finding it rather pleasing. For now, this little mystery could wait.