章 35: Meeting Lady Célia again
Aldwyn stepped inside, shaking off the rain. "I'm here for the ritual of the Prophet's Sight," he said without preamble.
The scholar's eyes narrowed, the candlelight flickering off his spectacles. "I should have known... Well, since I don't have a choice anyway, have a seat." His hand pointed to his sofa.
Aldwyn did as he was told, his gaze taking in the cluttered room filled with tomes and scrolls, the floor littered with parchments. The scholar cleared a space on his desk.
Aldwyn remembered the first step and gave him his medallion this time, for his bank account.
The scholar was surprised, but didn't say anything else and began the ritual.
He placed the medallion in the middle of the artifacts he had set up. He then drew a complex pattern around it with the shimmering ink and spoke ancient incantations that seemed to vibrate through the air.
As the scholar sang, the room grew colder, the shadows condensed and stretched like living creatures. The candle flames danced erratically, casting an eerie flicker on the scholar's furrowed brow. The air grew heavy with anticipation, and Aldwyn could feel the weight of unseen eyes upon him.
The scholar stretched out his hand and placed it on the medallion. The ancient ink glowed briefly before being absorbed by the medallion, leaving a faint, pulsing light. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his hand trembling as he recited the final incantation.
Suddenly the room was plunged into darkness, and a cold wind howled through the cracks in the walls. Aldwyn felt a tiny pain in his forehead, and when the light returned, he was momentarily blinded by a series of quick images that flashed before his eyes.
He saw himself standing in a moonlit glade, surrounded by figures that shifted and danced like leaves in a storm. The Sylvan Siren's melody filled his ears, hauntingly beautiful and eerily familiar.
The second vision was of a grand ballroom, the chandeliers casting a warm glow over elegantly dressed lords and ladies. In the corner, a man with a tattooed face watched him, his smile hinting at a secret shared between them.
The third vision sent a shiver down Aldwyn's spine. It was a battlefield, the ground slick with blood and littered with the bodies of men and monsters. The Red Baron's monstrous form loomed over him, his twisted laughter echoing through the chaos.
As the final image faded, the scholar slumped in his chair, his hand dropping to the desk with a thud. "It is done," he gasped, his voice ragged from the exertion.
„These visions continue to be a mystery to me... Unfortunately, no information about my next task." Aldwyn thought to himself.
Aldwyn's gaze remained on the medallion, the pulsing light now fading away. The visions had been as disturbing as they were enlightening.
Aldwyn took his medallion and put it back in his pocket and took his leave.
The rain had stopped and the cobblestone streets of Helgarde shimmered with a fresh coat of moisture. The silence was a stark contrast to the tumultuous thoughts in his mind.
"The Lycan-cult," Aldwyn murmured to himself as he walked through the deserted streets. "I need to tread carefully."
He had decided to visit Lady Célia first, the urgency of Enigma's task weighing heavily on his mind. The carriage ride was a silent affair, the clopping of the horse's hooves the only sound punctuating the night. The driver, a stoic man with a thick beard and a cap pulled low over his eyes, didn't bother to make small talk, which suited Aldwyn just fine.
As they approached the grand manor, the gates swung open with an eerie creak.
"Thank you," Aldwyn murmured to the driver, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.
When he reached the front door, a servant was already waiting for him, a tall man with a stern expression and a starched uniform. He stepped aside, allowing Aldwyn to enter the grand manor of Lady Célia. The foyer was a testament to wealth and power, with a grand staircase sweeping up to the second floor, the walls adorned with portraits of stern-faced ancestors who seemed to judge him with every step he took.
"Lady Célia will see you in the library," the servant intoned, his voice echoing through the hallowed halls.
The library was a vast chamber, its walls lined with books that whispered of ancient secrets and forgotten lore. The scent of leather and parchment filled the air, a stark contrast to the cloying stench of the streets outside. Lady Célia sat at a large oak desk, her eyes lifted from the parchment she'd been reading to gaze upon him with a mix of curiosity and wariness.
Her beauty was as haunting as it was captivating, her eyes piercing his soul as she spoke. "So you have received my letter..." she said, her voice cool and measured. "Before we talk any further, I would like to apologize to you. My behavior was inappropriate, you did everything in your power to discover the truth concerning my sister."
Aldwyn said nothing. He understood her situation, so he didn't mind.
The room was filled with a palpable tension, as if the very air was thick with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved feelings.
"Your apology is noted," Aldwyn replied. "The reason I came is that I want to demand the favor."
Lady Célia's expression remained unreadable. "So be it. What do you demand by me? But remember that I am not omnipotent, it must be within the realm of possibility."
Aldwyn approached the desk, his eyes never leaving hers. "I need you to gather information on a man named Craig Gaines. His last activities, his last whereabouts and possible changes."
Lady Célia raised an eyebrow. "Gaines? Why the sudden interest?"
Aldwyn's gaze was unwavering. "I have done a job for him and still expect a reward. But something doesn't seem right, so I'd better be careful."
Lady Célia's eyes narrowed, and she nodded slowly. "Very well. I'll have my people look into it. Come back in two days, then I should have received enough information."
Aldwyn nodded in acknowledgment and turned to leave, the silence of the library swallowing his footsteps.
Outside, the sun was high and cast long shadows over the city. He thought about the consequences of his meeting with Enigma and his decision to visit the Lycan cult.
The journey to the hall of swords was a silent one, the cobblestone streets reflecting the bright light and the occasional sound of a horse-drawn carriage passing by. The buildings grew smaller and the smell of freshly cut grass filled the air as he approached the hall of swords.
As he arrived, he was met by Lila, her eyes searching his as she approached. Her armor gleamed, and she carried herself like a seasoned warrior despite her youthful features.
"Aldwyn," she called out, her voice a mix of urgency and relief. "I've been looking for you."
He raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"
She looked around before she approached him and whispered, "Let's discuss this in my room rather."
Intrigued, Aldwyn followed her upstairs. The room was sparse, the bed unmade, and his gear laid out neatly on a wooden chair. Lila closed the door firmly behind them.
„I wonder what she wants from me..." Aldwyn didn't know what to expect.
"Aldwyn," she began, her voice low and serious. "I've been thinking about your words, you know, the things you said to me on the trip with Lady Roxanne."
Aldwyn nodded, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. "And what did you decide?"
Lila took a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with determination. "I want to know more about the Pathways," she said.
Aldwyn studied her for a moment, his expression unreadable. "So that's what you've decided." he asked, his voice a low murmur.
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