NOVEL NEXT Chapter 70 - Unveil (II)
[Volume 2 | Chapter 70: Unveil (II)]
Noon arrived like a fanatical demon that seemed to mock Acacia's increasingly grim mood. The hours since leaving Windsor Prep had proven frustratingly unproductive. He just spent his time wandering the city's streets while his mind raced through scenarios each more disturbing than the last.
Without concrete evidence or a clear direction, his investigation had stalled before it truly began.
Cloudcrest Café welcomed him with familiar ambient chatter and the scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with sea air. The same panoramic view of Windsor Bay stretched beyond the windows. Under different circumstances, he might have appreciated the aesthetics. Today, it merely served as a backdrop to his mounting frustration.
Noelle already occupied her table from yesterday, absorbed in her own thoughts while swirling a glass of water. She was wearing her Assistant Inquisitor outfit.
"You look like someone canceled your birthday," she observed as he slid into the seat across from her. "That productive, huh?"
"The librarians are insisting they haven't seen Alaric in weeks. Their records also show no restricted section access since graduation. It's as if yesterday never happened."
"Mmmm."
Noelle simply nodded as she loudly munched on her cheesy omelet. She chewed thoughtfully, swallowed, then took a sip of water. Acacia wondered whether she was doing this on purpose, or was just so naturally oblivious that she didn't know what "wasting time" was.
"That's it?" Acacia's patience, never his strongest virtue, frayed visibly. "I spent four hours hitting dead ends, and you respond with 'mmmm'?"
"Poor Acccaaacciaa. Did the big, bad library defeat you? Were the mean books too tricky?"
"I'm starting to understand that Pandora must find you irritating."
"She finds me endearing," Noelle corrected, then reached into her messenger bag and extracted a folder. "While you were probably having a staring contest with that librarian lady, I was being productive."
She slid three sheets of paper across the table with the theatrical flourish of a magician revealing a particularly impressive trick. Each one had different symbols designating the library in question. Kraft's Records, Windsor Time Square Library, and the Central Archives—along with meticulously timestamped visitor logs. Then, Noelle tapped each paper with a fork that still had a piece of cheese dangling precariously from one tine.
Acacia's eye twitched at the sight.
"Three separate libraries have records of our blue-haired friend, all with multiple visits this month. The archivists were incredibly accommodating once they saw my credentials. It's so amazing what a uniform can accomplish~"
Acacia blinked, momentarily silenced by the revelation. Then he leaned forward, scanning the visitor logs.
Then it emerged.
The structure from the chaos.
"He's cycling between them."
"Oh?"
"Mondays and Thursdays at Kraft's, Tuesdays and Fridays at Time Square, Wednesdays and weekends at Central Archives. Always at different times of day."
"Hmm... like he's creating alibis." Noelle saw his point, stabbing into her omelet. "Is he trying to avoid drawing attention to that Windsor Prep Library by spreading his research across multiple locations?"
"That type of logic only works in theory, because creating an anti-pattern is a pattern."
Noelle's expression brightened at the realization.
"And that's not even the best part." She leaned forward, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "The librarian at Central Archives remembered him from this morning. He specifically asked about 'when Luna reaches conjunction with Spica this year.'"
The Irregular squinted at her words.
"A conjunction between Luna and Spica? Like constellations?"
She pulled out another sheet, this one a photocopy of a checkout record.
"Happens on June 24th at 8:17 PM. He also borrowed three books on astronomical calculations and historical star charts. Signed them out this morning, right around 9 AM."
"Two days from now..."
Astronomical conjunctions, ancient tomes, memory manipulation... they all hinted at something larger at play. But he needed more pieces to see the full picture. Alaric was the key, and the book he carried was the lock. If he could decipher what Alaric was researching, it might reveal his endgame.
"Whatever he's planning, it's happening soon... but we still don't know what or where." Noelle took a sip of her water. "Look, Acacia, this sounds serious. We should probably get the IPA or at least the Wind Brigade involved."
"Circumstantial evidence upon circumstantial evidence. I doubt any of them would act without a clear threat."
She was about to retort, but then, she stopped herself. He was right. From their perspective, Alaric was just a kid who was borrowing library books. There was no evidence to connect him to the Modern Tome or any plans to use it for destructive purposes.
Clues.
Fragments.
Pieces of a puzzle without the box to show the completed image.
Acacia could feel the shape of knowledge just beyond his grasp, tantalizingly close yet harshly obscured. He hated it. It burned his chest like acid.
This wasn't a problem he could solve alone.
He needed more perspectives, more knowledge, more resources than he and Noelle could provide. He needed…
Allies.
Friends.
The admission felt like surrender, even confined to the privacy of his thoughts. For an Irregular who had survived on self-sufficiency and detachment from all things emotional, this was a concession he never imagined making. And yet, here he was, considering the notion that maybe—just maybe—trusting someone other than himself might not be a weakness.
He needed Elias.
He needed the Trafalgars.
He needed…
"Leila..."
"Eh?"
He needed her, and that meant repairing bridges he'd damaged with his stubborn insistence on facing problems alone.
"Noelle... let's get some ice cream."
He obtained the goods.
Acacia reached for his phone, but his thumb hesitated over the screen before decisively dialing. The wave of magma called "uncertainty" bubbled within him, but he pushed past it.
Ring…
Ring…
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Come on…
Ring…
"Acacia, my boy! To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure? Calling to check if Eleanor's prepared more of those meatballs you inhaled last time at the hospital? Ah! Perhaps you've mustered enough courage to schedule another chess match where I absolutely destroy—"
"Is everyone at the estate today?"
Acacia cut through the cheerful rambling, anxiously checking his watch. The sun was beating down mercilessly, and somewhere in the plastic bag Noelle clutched, expensive (bought out of his own allowance on top of that) ice cream fought a losing battle against thermal dynamics.
"Well, let's see." Sirius hummed thoughtfully. "Eleanor's reading in the living room—some historical treatise on the Third Elevation Period that's apparently fascinating despite containing zero explosions. Leila's been in her workshop since dawn, doing heaven knows what with that Novascope of hers. Our dear Elias arrived about thirty minutes ago looking rather dejected. Something about his father and 'crazy expectations.' So yes, full house! Are you planning to grace us with your presence?"
Well, it's a good thing that I didn't need to call Elias to go over there…
"We'll be there in twenty minutes." Acacia wavered, then added, "Don't tell Leila we're coming."
A pregnant pause filled the line before Sirius's voice returned.
"Ah. I see how it is. Secret missions and surprise visits."
Then, with blistering speed, his tone shifted again.
"You know, Leila's been in a spectacularly foul mood these past few days. Practically bit my head off when I suggested upgrading her Contender with a new oscillation chamber. Now, as your future father-in-law, I feel obligated to warn you that if you've done anything to upset your fiancée—more importantly, my daughter—"
Acacia jammed his finger against the disconnect button with enough force to nearly crack the screen.
"Fiancée?! Father-in-law?! How did they let a clinically insane man run an entire tech company?!"
He hated that his cheeks felt warm.
Beside him, Noelle's eyes had grown to impossible proportions.
"You're engaged to Leila Trafalgar?! THE Leila Trafalgar? Daughter of Sirius and Eleanor Trafalgar? Inheritor of the House of Altair's ⸢Empyrean⸥ Birthright? And you're buying her ice cream as an apology?!"
"We are not engaged, Sirius has his delusions, and the ice cream was your suggestion, if you recall." Acacia gritted out, regretting all of his life decisions that had led him to this point for the umpteenth time.
"Yes, but that was before I knew we were talking about LEILA TRAFALGAR!"
Twenty excruciating minutes later, their taxi pulled into the exclusive Windsor Heights neighborhood where mansions sprawled across manicured landscapes like architectural declarations of superiority. Old money oozed from every hand-carved cornice and imported marble fountain. Acacia felt the familiar twist of disdain in his gut that would never go away. These structures represented generations of accumulated privilege, insulated from the harsh realities that shaped lives like his. The taxi stopped at the neighborhood's crowning achievement which was the Trafalgar estate. The main house rose three stories with the smaller building of Sirius's personal laboratory nestled alongside it like a technological afterthought. Gardens cascaded down gentle slopes, punctuated by what appeared to be small-scale models of Sirius's various inventions doubling as artistic sculptures.
Noelle practically vibrated out of her uniform.
"Oh. My. GOD. It's even MORE beautiful than the magazine spreads! Did you know they featured this place in 'Orion Architectural Digest' last year? The article said Eleanor designed the east wing herself, incorporating elements from her ancestral Altair estate while Sirius integrated seven different types of sustainable energy systems into the—"
"Noelle."
"—and that fountain actually recycles rainwater through an underground filtration system that Sirius patented in 404! The garden has specimens from all six provinces, arranged in a pattern that mimics the constellation Orion when viewed from—"
"Noelle."
"—and the laboratory supposedly contains prototypes that won't be available to the public for at least a decade! Some people say he's working on a Mystic Gear that can actually—"
"NOELLE!"
His patience snapped like a rubber band stretched too far. Noelle jumped.
"The ice cream is melting."
She paused mid-sentence, glancing down at the bag in her hands.
"Oh! Right."
She quickly formed a small circle with her fingers, whispering "[Aero]" as a gentle, cool breeze manifested around the package.
"You need to keep doing that, not just when I remind you," Acacia instructed, already moving toward the entrance.
"I'm trying! But it's the Trafalgar estate! Do you have any idea how many Assistant Inquisitors get invited here? None! Zero! This is literally a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see where Sirius Trafalgar creates his—"
"If you don't keep that ice cream frozen, it'll be a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see me have an aneurysm. I'll frame you for its murder and Pandora will be the lawyer who will make sure you get the death sentence. Understand?"
They approached the imposing front entrance. It was an ornate door that probably cost more than most people's entire homes. Acacia jabbed the doorbell with perhaps more force than "strictly" necessary, then stepped back and unconsciously straightened his jacket. The plastic bag crinkled as Noelle shifted beside him; it was the effect of her [Aero] spell continuing to circulate cool air through small, controlled vortices.
The door flew open so violently that both visitors flinched. Sirius Trafalgar stood framed in the doorway, accompanied by his wild ginger hair seeming to defy gravity, and his lab coat billowing dramatically despite the complete absence of wind.
"MY SON!"
He bellowed with enough volume to startle birds from nearby trees.
His arms flung wide as if expecting a welcome hug. Before Acacia could react, he found himself crushed against the inventor's chest in a hug that threatened to realign his skeleton in ways Nemesis could have only conceived of doing.
"It's been an eternity! A week and three days, to be precise! I was beginning to think you'd forgotten your dear father-in-law!"
"Not your son," Acacia wheezed through compressed lungs. "Not engaged. Can't breathe."
Sirius released him from his suffering, only to pivot towards Noelle in his same coffee-injected-into-bloodstream energy
"And the brilliant Assistant Inquisitor Lima! We've met at the department, of course, but never had the pleasure of a proper conversation about your fascinating ⸢Vitalis⸥Birthright! Did you know I've been developing a caloric optimization supplement that could potentially double your metabolic efficiency? The preliminary tests on lab rats have been most promising, though I must admit the unexpected side effect of causing their fur to temporarily change color was rather—"
"Mr. Trafalgar, sir!" Noelle's voice emerged at least an octave higher than normal. "It's such an honor to be invited to your estate! I've followed your work since I was twelve, and your paper on fluctuation harmonics in thaumaturgical amplification circuits completely revolutionized my understanding of—"
Acacia watched in mounting horror as the two launched into what could only be described as mutually encouraged verbal avalanches, sentences sprouting three more, neither pausing for breath or sanity.
The ice cream sat in its bag, with [Aero] weakening as Noelle's attention diverted to her hero-worship. The summer heat continued to press down mercilessly.
And something inside the boy just broke.
"I AM TIRED OF YOU PROFESSIONAL YAPPERS! CAN WE GET IN THE DAMN HOUSE?!"
The shout echoed across the manicured grounds and startled a nearby gardener, who nearly fell into a rosebush.
Sirius and Noelle both blinked at him, momentarily silenced.
Sirius was the first to recover, grinning widely.
"Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the laboratory bench this morning."
"The. Ice. Cream. Is. Melt. Ing."
"Ice cream? Why didn't you say so!" Sirius exclaimed, as if this were the most reasonable explanation for Acacia's outburst. "Quick, this way! Eleanor will want to say hello anyway."
The interior of the mansion was as grand as the exterior suggested. Marble floors, vaulted ceilings, and ornate furnishings created an atmosphere of opulence that bordered on the absurd. Sirius led them through the foyer and into the spacious living room. In the center of this domestic perfection, Eleanor Trafalgar reclined on a chaise lounge, an ancient leather-bound tome open in her elegant hands; she looked up as they entered, her serene beauty somehow making Acacia feel even more disheveled and inadequate than usual.
"Acacia," she greeted him, voice carrying the refined warmth that somehow made everyone in her presence feel simultaneously special and slightly inadequate. "I was wondering when we might see you again. The house has been unusually quiet without your visits."
He shifted awkwardly under her gaze, painfully aware of his disheveled state and the absurdity of standing in her immaculate living room, clutching a rapidly thawing container of artisanal ice cream.
"Mrs. Trafalgar. I apologize for the unexpected intrusion."
"Nonsense." She dismissed his formality with a gentle wave. "This home has always welcomed those who matter to us. Though... I suspect you're not here primarily for my company."
The plastic bag didn't go unnoticed as he felt her gaze linger on it.
"Where are Leila and Elias?" The question emerged more abruptly than he'd intended, but his nerves were basically fried at this point.
"In the laboratory. Sirius has been gracious enough to provide space for Leila's summer projects, and Elias arrived earlier looking rather in need of distraction." Her eyes lingered on the ice cream, then returned to Acacia's face with an approving smile. "Dark chocolate sea salt caramel. An excellent choice."
How did she...?
She stepped closer, dropping to a gentle murmur meant only for him.
"Don't wait too long, Acacia. My daughter can be rather impatient when it comes to matters of the heart."
"It's not—we're not—"
"The laboratory is through the east corridor. First door on the right. You can't miss the explosion scorch marks on the wall." Mercifully, she stopped his pathetic stuttering.
Without waiting for further direction, Acacia snatched the bag from Noelle's grasp and headed toward the indicated corridor; he didn't notice the startled "Hey!" fading behind him. It felt like every step he took felt simultaneously too fast and too slow. Nothing felt right at all.
The laboratory door was slightly ajar, a faint blue light pulsing from within.
Did... he have a right to stand before her?
What exactly was he supposed to say?
How did one apologize for being fundamentally broken when it came to human connection?
How the hell did he end up here, in this mansion, trying to make things right with the daughter of a technological tycoon when all he wanted to do was not die from getting framed for a crime he never committed?
You know why, Acacia Belmont. So, do it.
He pushed the door open.