Nebula's Premise

"There is definitely something suspicious happening here," I said.

"I find this food suspicious," Viktor said, shoving his latest acquisition in his mouth. "There, problem solved."

"I should really learn from your methods," I smiled up at the big guy. He'd been thoroughly enjoying Anwell. I'd say mostly for the food, but he seemed to enjoy the lively vibe of the town as well, something I wouldn't have expected from him. It made him seem younger, somehow.

I looked over at the notebook in István's hand. Today was the second day we'd been out walking the city, and he had elected himself to sketch out the feelings I was getting as we walked. There was a collection of marks of varying densities scattered across the smooth paper. Having held it before, I knew his paper was really high quality, and that he'd gotten an upgrade to it in the Sect after working with the artisans there to refine the process.

Today, we'd taken a different path; we wanted to avoid being too obvious about what we were doing. To most people, it should look like we were just a Venerable and her entourage, out touring the town. I'd felt a few other powerful individuals around, but no one on the level of our group… yet.

There was one other difference from the previous day as well - I was now wearing what Celistar called a 'wéimào' - it was a veiled hat that covered my face from passers-by and allowed me to walk with my hand on István's arm and my eyes closed, constantly feeding him information to jot down.

I at first objected to wearing something so ostentatious, but she pointed out that it wasn't uncommon for someone in my position to be unwilling to have any part of themselves be visible. She also pointed out something else.

"You're literally the only person I've ever seen with hair that color. We really should have been hiding it the entire time. I'm kind of kicking myself for not thinking of this sooner."

Fair enough.

"Is the Sister Falling Snow related to you by blood?" Viktor asked, using the title given to her by popular consensus. Probably because he forgot her name, but I suppose it could also be because he didn't want to volunteer any information to eavesdroppers.

"We are, yes." I told him. "Apparently it is from my father's side. I'm the only one I've met with it though."

It felt a little uncomfortable to talk about. There'd definitely been people who suggested untoward things about my mother because of how different I looked from every other member of my family, but dad wasn't the slightest bit concerned. He said I looked exactly like his mother, whom I'd never met. Gran, if you can imagine it, was on my mother's side.

Kind of crazy such a timid, quiet lady as my mother came from such hearty stock. Guess you never know.

Back in the present, István was leading me on a path of his choosing. My Elder was skilled, though, and managed to make it look like I was the one choosing the direction.

Over the course of the day I managed to refine my senses, even though the going was slow with it, as seemingly everything else I learned.

I could now tell within a few moments when the pull changed. I'd take the step and as the foot fell, there would be an almost imperceptible change. I'd take stock on the next one and inform István. And so the loop would continue.

Until it didn't. We'd entered a restaurant district, with the street lined with tall establishments that each specialized different fare. I was still tracking a few groups of people tailing us, but it was becoming clear that most had either lost interest or learned what they wanted. We were down to only two I could obviously tell, about five people in total.

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"Elder, I am feeling a touch of hunger," I said, making István almost jump at the change. He shot a look at Celistar, which caused her to scan the storefronts, selecting one seemingly at random.

Our entourage went into the most expensive looking one, and I had to say that Celistar looked excited. I think she was enjoying sampling everything and actually using some of the wealth she'd accumulated over untold years.

The space we'd been given was little more than a booth, but it still had the same seal of silence that our common room had. It seemed to be a feature of higher end establishments. Probably specifically to attract clientele like us.

"You seem happy," I mentioned to her as we sat down.

"I am getting to treat my friends…" she said, looking at me with a grin, "Why wouldn't I be happy?"

Some part of my heart warmed to hear her refer to us as such. I could totally understand the feeling.

Viktor made a rumble of affirmation as well. He'd hit up a lot of the food carts and stalls the first day and had gotten quieter as the frequency of un-sampled snacks had grown fewer and farther between. Which made me a little sad, it was nice to have him exuberant.

Wasn't much I could do about it though, so I let the matter drop.

A server came in, again a handsome young man. Maybe not a Mr. Handsome, but possibly his younger brother. I was starting to get the feeling that these establishments were sending them, expecting them to suit my preferences. They weren't entirely wrong, but…

"Send someone else." I said, my voice low, with enough power behind the words that the luminary in the center of the room flickered slightly.

Little Brother Decent-Looking went white as a sheet, before bowing and rushing from the room. In no more than time than it took me to breathe in and out calmly the door reopened and an adorable young woman had taken his place, her dark eyes fluttering as she looked at me nervously.

"Continue," I said in the same tone, lifting a hand slightly, but not enough to expose the skin under the sleeves. I was still wearing the wéimào, the veil keeping her from gleaning anything about my expression.

Celistar ordered for me, with the men both chatting with our new company before placing theirs, as there were no menus of any kind present. I'd learned this was the way of these establishments, with the compensation of the employees evidently tied to their ability to guess the desires of the clientele.

The food arrived so fast it made me consider that it'd been pre-prepared, but the quality made it seem unlikely. Either way, they had someone skilled enough to be considered an artisan in their own right at the helm of the kitchen.

I remotely enabled the seal, before additionally creating a nearly solid wall of Nebula around us, keeping it carefully separated from the walls themselves, as I was pumping enough into it to destroy any artifice implemented there.

"What was that about?" Celistar asked with a grin. "Good-looking men not your style?"

"Change of scenery," I said, offering nothing more. She gave me a faux pout for a little before our attention went to the meal itself.

It comprised the meat of a fowl of some sort, done up over a bed of mixed grains with a thick, lumpy sauce over it. The smell of spices filled the room.

I may have drooled a little.

"You've figured out something?" István said as we finished up our repast.

"Potentially. May I see your notes?" I asked, and he handed them over directly. What had clicked for me out in the street was not related to the information he was recording - not directly anyway - but I still wanted to see it in case anything else jumped out at me.

I examined them, looking at the all the spots he'd drawn onto the paper. It was immensely detailed, as would be expected from the man, and drawn with such careful precision I could almost envision it as an aerial map.

Each location I'd mentioned to him had been annotated with a tiny arrow, drawn so small it made me question how he'd done it while walking. They indicated the precise direction of the pull relative to where we'd been walking.

Looking at it like this, I could see something I would never have noticed with my meagre visualization skills.

"Does this structure remind you of anything?" I asked. Floating it out in front of the both of us with a flick of my hand. He stared at it for a bit, his thumb and forefinger pinching his goatee into even more of a point than it usually was.

"There is some familiarity, yes, but I am unable to place it," he said after a few moments.

I moved my power to fill in the spaces between the marks… it started in the direction an arrow pointed and stopped when it met an opposing one, filling up the space in lines and circles.

Before long, a glowing set of obvious patterns emerged.

He stared at it for a few moments, his mouth slightly agape. The others had leaned over, so I moved the notebook away from us so they could see as well.

For some reason I suddenly felt the need to state the obvious, as if to punctate the deduction I had made.

"Someone made a seal under all of Anwell."