The Simulacrum

Part 1

I would've liked to say that things were starting to pick up, but that wasn't quite accurate.

Josh and the gang back on Critias had been busy over the weekend, between studying for the exams and making overly detailed strategies on how to deal with the ornery Canadian arch-mage. They approached it the same way one would plan a raid during a tabletop RPG session, with a clear delineation of roles and combat tactics. There was a distinct lack of contingency plans, but I couldn't blame them too much. This was the first time they'd done something like this without me (and my extra-sensory intel) to help them, so if nothing else, it was going to be a learning experience.

They even pulled Judy out of her slump by recruiting her as their mission command, which was nice, but it only made the fact that my girlfriends were getting more impatient by the day all the more visible to me. Regrettably, my own plans already ran aground in the most annoying way possible. Worse yet, due to the heightened security thanks to my somewhat botched first foray outside the Chasm of Desolation, I had to bide my time. Until now, that is.

It was a bit of a pain in the neck, and I had to quickly distract and disable three Fauns on my way out of the prison, but I made it out all the same. Currently standing on top of a gargoyle of a large municipal building, like some kind of discount nocturnal echo-locating mammal man, I had to consider my options. Chances were, each of these 'escapes' was going to get more difficult than the last. The only silver lining in this whole situation was that the Faun commander, or warmaster, or whatever, was convinced that all the disturbances and sightings were caused by spies trying to get into the barracks, so while the perimeter was reinforced, the patrols around the entrance to the cave didn't increase much.

It made some sense; who in their right mind would want to go into the scary anti-magic underground prison, right? His opinion could've changed at any time though, especially if someone mentioned that, 'Ah, actually, that Polemos guy did want to break into the dungeon, didn't he?'. I could still work around the patrols around the walls, but if they put half a dozen Fauns standing guard right at the cave's mouth, I'd be screwed.

As such, I had to make the best of this opportunity to get outside, because I couldn't be sure when I'd have another one. Not that there was a great selection of places for me to visit, and after awkwardly climbing off the gargoyle (in retrospect, getting up there wasn't a great idea), I headed to the usual haunt.

"Good afternoon, sir."

Being greeted like a regular felt strange, but not uncomfortable, and I made my way over to the bartender of the familiar pub/salon. Since it was relatively early, it leaned much more into the latter image, with energetic piano music playing in the background and the patrons being more occupied with card- and cue-games. I didn't know the exact rules of the first kind, but it sure as hell wasn't poker, while the latter were played on tables with and without pockets. Overall, the place had a more sophisticated mien than it usually did during the night.

"It hasn't been that long since you last visited," the man behind the bar addressed me with a professional yet still amicable voice. "What can I get you this time?"

"Give me a minute to think about it, but first…"

I reached into my breast pocket and handed him the cue ball I borrowed the other day. The bartender accepted it without hesitation, though not without a curiously raised brow.

"Oh? Did you succeed in your endeavour?"

"No, I'm afraid. It was a bust."

The barkeep was just about to say something, but he noticed some movement on the side and waited for an older gentleman to waddle over and sit down next to me.

"What's the problem, friend? The missus didn't like the gift?" he spoke to me in a jolly, if altogether too loud voice that nearly made me flinch.

He was one of the regulars of this establishment, as far as I could tell, and his portly body type and richly embroidered dark-green outfit would've told me he was a local noble even if he wasn't the chatty type and had done so himself. His neatly trimmed moustache was in stark contrast to his abundant side-burns that made Arnwald's look modest in comparison, and he considered me something between a drinking buddy and a fascinating curiosity.

Case in point, I was purposefully vague about why I needed a cue ball on short notice, but by the sound of it, the local rumour mill not only already came up with an explanation, but they're now treating it as self-evident.

"No, it wasn't a gift, and even if it was, it didn't work," I responded a tad morosely.

I couldn't help it. The idea was really smart and elegant on paper. I was in the Abyss. The Abyss was a pocket dimension just like the Elysium. Celestials could communicate with people outside using those communication crystal balls that made the holograms with the scanlines and everything. Q.E.D., if such communications were possible, and I could get my hands on one such crystal orb, I could reverse-engineer it and use it to contact my girlfriends.

Of course, since getting my hands on one was pretty much impossible down here, I had to improvise, and the plan was rather intuitive, if I may say so myself: grab a sphere about the same size, temporary-retcon it into a communicator-orb, and then adapt the enchantment to my Leoformer so that I could connect the transmission arrays to Judy's funky communicator-glasses.

Needless to say, nothing worked out as planned. Right off the bat, it became evident that the original idea was infeasible due to the cue ball and the hologram ball being too different. My temporary retcon ability always 'unfolded' an item into a fractal of all of its possible variants. The more different the object was from the original, the 'further' it was on the fractal tree.

Let's use a mug for an example. Let's say it's a white mug that says 'I Heart Coffee'. Other mugs with different text printed on them would be 'closest' to it on the fractal, and thus the easiest to overlay on the original. Ones that were a different colour would be further, and so would ones that had a different base shape. As such, a white mug that said 'I Heart Tea' would be easier to temporarily retcon onto the base item than a black mug that said the same.

The 'further' we got from the original, the more difficult the retcon would become. Different types of mugs would be the easiest, then cups and glasses, and finally items of various colours, designs, and materials that counted as 'liquid containers'. The less similar the two items were, the more effort I had to put into dragging it over and overlaying it on top of the original, and even then, the duration of the change would be drastically shortened.

That was the crux of the issue: I had to impart a lot of… something into the process to make it work. Let's call it 'mental effort'. While I was getting used to 'small' temporary retcons, like replacing doors and locks and the like with conveniently open versions, I could do that because the starting- and the end-states were nearly identical, and thus close on the infinitely recursive fractal tree of objects.

In contrast, the bloody Celestial communicator was freaking faaar away from the cue ball. Probably because only their shape was the same, but otherwise, they were just too different in structure. For the last two days I'd tried over and over again, but I only managed to transform the yellow one-ball for a few short seconds before whatever energy or willpower or who-knows-what I imparted into it evaporated, and it turned back to its original form.

Oh, and to make things even more disheartening, I tried looking for similar communicator artifacts that would've had all the necessary enchantments on them already to contact Judy, but those were either so distant that I couldn't find them, or such things never existed, to begin with.

If Judy were here, she would've probably found the topic of whether my temporary retcon ability was limited to only items and concepts that already existed within the Simulacrum's framework fascinating. She might've even urged me to explore my options, or asked me to see if the same applied to logical consistency by attempting to create the equivalent of a married bachelor. Sadly, she wasn't here, but even if she was, I couldn't quite do any of that at the moment, because my head was already hurting.

I must've strained myself with the repeated temporary retcons, and it got to the point where I had to stop lest the searing pain in my forehead would turn into a full-fledged migraine. I spent most of the last afternoon and the night resting, reading, and nursing my headache, but I couldn't quite accept defeat that easily, so I was here for round two.

"Come on, friend! Don't keep us in suspense!" the friendly patron (who must've introduced himself at one point, but I never bothered to remember his name, and it would've been too awkward to ask) hit me on the shoulder with a grin that showed off all his teeth. "Can you at least give us a hint this time? Or if not that…" He theatrically glanced around and then leaned closer to my ear, one hand shielding his mouth from the side. "Can you tell the old boys that it was a gift to someone? I have thirty Stater Coins riding on this…"

Staters were a rather large denomination of the local currency, which meant the regulars must've made a bet of some kind.

"It wasn't really, but…" I bit back the second half of that sentence and gave it a bit more thought. "Actually, you could say that it was a gift."

"For the missus?" the older man pressed me while rubbing my shoulder, urging me to nod along.

"Not quite, but… it was for someone in the family," I lied, and after a long beat, he beamed at me again.

"Haha! I knew it!" He turned around on his tall stool and waved at someone at the back of the establishment. "Hey, Génépi? You owe me thirty Staters, you son of a donkey!"

A rosy-cheeked man with a hooked nose and a receding hairline looked up from one of the card tables and made a rather rude gesture in our general direction.

"Sir Armagnac, please…" the bartender chided him with a soft sigh, and the man awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Excuse me. My enthusiasm got the better of me." He kept fake coughing a few more times, but then he stopped just as abruptly and bumped me with his shoulder. "So?"

"So what?"

"You already gave it away, why not spill all the beans?"

"… Did you make another bet?"

"No, not at all." He rubbed his nose and admitted, "I'm just terribly curious."

I would've bounced him off under other circumstances, but I figured this could work to my advantage, so I quickly came up with a suitable cover story. Of course, I didn't open up right away, and pretended to drag my feet and be embarrassed about the topic to allow the man by my side to coax me a bit.

"Oh, fine," I relented after a suitably drawn-out back-and-forth that naturally drew the attention of a few eavesdroppers. "I told you how the Nergals burned down my estate in the countryside, right?"

"Aren't they our allies now?" a man not much older than me chimed in from the side, so I dramatically rolled my eyes at him.

"Well, they weren't back then, that's for sure!" That earned me a mixture of chuckles and some sympathetic glances. In other words, so far, so good. I followed that up with an equally dramatic sigh and acted like this was something I'd rather not talk about, but got carried away by the atmosphere. "You see, the family's been taking shelter at my sister-in-law's. They're naturally understanding of our plight, but I don't want to be a freeloader, so I asked my brother-in-law if there was some way I could return the favour, and…" I gestured for the bartender, and he handed the cue ball back to me. I raised it to eye-level and asked, "Have any of you folks ever seen a Celestial's ball?"

Now, that made everyone's ears perk up.

"… No?" the bartender answered, probably just to break the silence, so I drooped my shoulders and let out a groan.

"Me neither, but my brother-in-law wants one." I let that linger for a while, and then I added, "I mean, not a real one, but something that looks like it. It's supposed to be roughly this size, you see."

"Oh! He meant that kind of ball!" a man chimed in from the back, but his words were drowned out by the portly man at my side.

"But for what reason?"

I let the tension build for a moment, and just as everyone was at their most curious, I let my shoulders slump in the mother of all shrugs.

"Some kind of inane prank on one of his cousins, from what I gathered. I couldn't exactly turn him down, so I agreed to help him out. He told me to get a ball and make a fancy box for it, so I did just that. The artisan I commissioned just finished the job this morning, so I presented it to my brother-in-law, only for him to tell me I wasn't supposed to get 'a' ball, but 'the' ball!

Where exactly am I supposed to get a replica of something I've never seen in my life? Those Celestial balls are apparently made of crystal, or glass, or maybe crystal glass, and now I'm supposed to find something that looks just like one before the family banquet in five days! It's maddening!"

Since I 'vented my frustrations' like that, I pretended to deflate and handed the cue ball back to the barkeep again, and this time he hurriedly put it under the counter, as if afraid that I would throw it against the wall or something.

It was only then that I turned to the patrons and put on my best pleading look.

"Friends. I know this is sudden, but… do any of you happen to have anything resembling what I'm looking for?"

I wasn't expecting much. None of the people here were exactly part of the upper crust, but at least some of them were tenuously upper-middle-class, and who knew? Maybe one of them happened to have a crystal ball lying around. That would at least raise the chances of a temporary-retcon producing something usable I could then transplant into an enchantment array, and I could do the rest from there.

What I absolutely wasn't expecting was the stocky man at my side letting out a thoughtful hum and saying, "Maybe I can do you one better, friend."

"Can you?"

"Well, you did help me win thirty Staters, so it's only fair," he responded a tad vaguely, but then he puffed out his chest and declared, "I don't want to brag, but my nephew is part of Lord Inanna's inner circle!"

That… raised a few red flags, but I stilled my face and only uttered a suitably amazed, "Truly?"

"Yes, indeed!" the chubby man exclaimed with a guffaw, clearly pleased by my reaction, only to then quickly tone it back a little and continue in a more level voice. "He told me our liege brought back a lot of incriminating Celestial tools and documents from the fallen House Ashur. Maybe there's a bauble like that among the spoils?"

"That… would be wonderful, but wouldn't it cause an investigation if something went missing from the castle? I wouldn't want your nephew to get into trouble on my behalf."

In fact, just knowing about that was good enough. While I couldn't Phase in, I still knew the layout of Castle Inanna like the back of my hand, thanks to the countless hours spent observing Crowy and my occasional jaunts on the premises as Bel. If push came to shove, I was confident I could sneak in, but before I could even begin formulating a plan, I was roughly patted on the shoulder once again.

"Oh, don't worry about it! Things have been quiet in Castle Inanna ever since our liege moved to Castle Nergal, and nobody cares about House Ashur anymore. I'm sure we can find what you need, or failing that, find a Celestial dissident who can point us in the right direction!"

Right. I tended to forget it, but there were at least some stray Celestials living in the Abyss. Mostly people who got on the bad side of the Directorate, or double-agents whose covers got blown and had to retreat to the only place where the Celestial Intelligence Network couldn't reach them. Of course, some of them were also CIN agents, as testified by the sporadic reports I'd seen on the Celestial Hub, but that's beside the point.

In retrospect, I should've probably started my investigation into acquiring a communicator there, but as always, hindsight was my mortal nemesis that never passed up an opportunity to stab me in the back.

"That would be helpful, but…"

"No need to be modest! Youngsters should just accept the goodwill of us old-timers! Also…" He paused to wink at me. "Thirty Staters."

And just like that, everything was resolved without much input on my end, and I couldn't decide how to feel about this. On one hand, not having to infiltrate Castle Inanna and manually look for the spoils from House Ashur was certainly tempting. On the other hand…

"I'll contact my nephew today. We should get a word back in a day or two, so make sure you come by again!"

… It meant I would have to keep sneaking out of and into the prison until then, so…

"Now that you've come to an agreement," the bartender interjected and placed an empty glass in front of me. "The last time you told me you're interested in peculiar rumors. Have you heard that there were ghost sightings around the Chasm of Desolation?"

I turned a flat gaze at the man, and couldn't stop myself from muttering, "At this rate, there are going to be a whole lot more of those…"

Part 2

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?"

"Yes, please."

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'.

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

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.

For a start…

"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."

"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 support us. 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?"

"Ah, yes, it's—"

"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?

Part 3

I had to admit that I didn't see this coming. In the literal sense, I mean. Tajana's back home, while Crowy was staying at Castle Nergal, so I didn't have anyone with a Far Sight mark amongst the upper echelons of House Inanna anymore. I naturally marked a few people during my scouting expeditions, but none of them was in regular contact with the woman sitting in front of me, so I got completely blindsided by this development.

Think fast, Leo. What options did I have?

Should I just deny her accusation? Doing so would've been a bit unsightly at the best of times, but if she had hard evidence, trying to play dumb would've only made things even more awkward. Normally I wouldn't have cared about such things, but with my Phasing ability being restrained, I couldn't just remove myself from the situation any time I wanted to, so I had to be a bit more thoughtful about my response.

For now, I decided on a more conservative tactic and played the Refuge in Audacity card.

"Was I too obvious?" I asked her in a jovial tone, and she all but scoffed at me in return.

"Don't try to play mind-games with me, 'Archon'." Her warning sounded dire, but her expression barely changed. Though again, she had an unfortunate case of the resting bitch face, so maybe I shouldn't judge too hastily. "Your ploy couldn't have been more self-evident."

"Was it?" I asked back, maintaining the same laidback attitude, and I reached for my half-empty glass. "Which part?"

The Matron's glare deepened, but after glancing at my drink and then back at me, her expression grew just a hint more curious, and she decided to humour my question.

"I've received numerous confusing and preposterous reports over the past week concerning 'ghost sightings' around the Chasm of Desolation. The 'ghost' of a young man wearing an oversized top hat, coming and going as he pleased, not only understanding but speaking of the dialect of the Faun, and capable of deceiving their minds into believing that they were bested by their so-called Dominating Rites."

"Rites of Dominance," I corrected her, and I was just about to ask if my hat really was too big, but she didn't give me the opportunity.

"Not long after, an unknown man looking for a Spirit Pearl appeared in Eanna, something only a Celestial would know about or could, indeed, utilise in any fashion. Coincidentally, all of these happenings started after Bel of the Abyss captured the infamous Polemos, the so-called 'Peacemaker' and locked him away at the very bottom of the same Chasm of Desolation, forbidding anyone to even approach the lower floors, saying that doing so would be too dangerous. A Celestial known for his unusual powers and mastery of illusions."

"Such a fascinating coincidence," I noted while trying to sound as disinterested as possible, and I was just about to take a sip from my drink when she hissed at me.

"I told to not to play mind-games with me. You have gone through all this trouble to arrange this meeting, so say your piece."

This time, I completely froze up for a second, then put my glass down without it ever touching my lips.

"What makes you think that?"

I wasn't being facetious or using Refuge in Audacity this time; I was genuinely, one hundred percent sincerely curious about how she came to that conclusion. Of course, I wasn't sure she would tell me right away, yet after a derisive scoff, she straightened her back, put one hand over the other on the table, and launched into an explanation anyway.

"You're still at the bottom of the Chasm of Desolation even as we speak. If you weren't, you would've already left Eanna, or the Abyss altogether. The fact that you're here tells me you can't leave, so you have sent this…" She paused to look me over. "This 'avatar' of yours instead. I have no idea how you managed to conjure such a convincing illusion while trapped in the mana-syphoning belly of the Chasm, but after witnessing the Abilities of Bel of the Abyss, I have long since accepted that there are beings out there whose peculiar powers do not conform to our common sense." She paused again, this time to point at me. "You have dispatched this avatar, but its range is obviously limited. Otherwise, you would've contacted your allies in the other Noble Houses. You fabricated numerous incidents to draw attention to your presence instead, and then you purposefully spread the rumor about the Spirit Pearl, knowing that it would reach me and that I would realize the connection between these incidents." She paused for the third time, only to rest her right hand on the back of her left again, and she levelled a piercing glare at me. "I could not leave such glaring provocation unanswered, but I reckon you already accounted for in your ploy. So, here I am. What do you want?"

It took me an embarrassingly long time to get my thoughts in order, and I could only hope that I didn't look too slack-jawed while doing so. Her whole explanation was preposterously self-centred, but what truly stumped me wasn't that, but the feeling of abject déja vu it elicited. That thought process was… eerily familiar, and I couldn't help but try to confirm my hunch.

"Spoken like a dyed-in-the-wool Celestial."

I observed her closely to catch even the most minute of reactions, but I shouldn't have bothered, because she confirmed it with yet another scoff and a quiet, "You already know, so what is the point in playing coy about it?"

It required inhumane effort to still my face and stop myself from face-palming, but I managed to tune my response down to an exasperated 'Of course you bloody are…' whispered under my breath. I sorted my thoughts in record time and drew three conclusions right away:

First off, if she were a Celestial, then overthinking everything and seeing multi-layered schemes everywhere might've really been genetic. That wasn't a productive observation, so I shelved it right away.

Secondly, I was pretty sure that if the CIN infiltrated the inner circle of Crowy, there would've been some evidence of that on the Hub. I might've missed that, but Judy wouldn't have, and seeing that she never mentioned anything about this Matron person, it meant she not only wasn't an infiltrator, but her being a Celestial was a secret so tightly kept not even the biggest intelligence network in the World of Mystics knew about it.

Which brought us to the third conclusion: if it was a major secret, her confirming it like that meant that she was not only convinced that I already knew, but it was the premise on which this whole meeting was based. Meaning, it was something I could use to my advantage.

I centred myself right after collecting my thoughts and shifted my style of Refuge in Audacity from 'confidently nonchalant' to 'mysterious mastermind', and adopted the usual finger-tenting pose for further emphasis.

"You're right. Still, I didn't expect you to come in person on such short notice." I inclined my head forward a bit and added, "Were you afraid I would spread the secret?"

I purposefully worded that a bit ambiguously, just in case I was mistaken, but it seemed that I hit the nail right on the head.

"We both know the answer to that question, but it was only one of the many reasons I wished to take this opportunity to meet you in person." That was already intriguing, but then she dropped another bombshell on me by stating, "An enemy of an enemy might prove to be a useful ally after all."

"You do realise that I'm not exactly on good terms with C— Excuse me… The Head of House Inanna, right?"

She eyed me with profound disapproval, but her response remained entirely professional.

"I understand that you and Noir share some personal grudges, but I'm sure you're more concerned with Bel of the Abyss right now."

"Oh? So that's why you weren't calling him the 'emperor'," I noted with just a hint of a smirk. I already had an inkling that Crowy and his cronies weren't nearly as enthusiastic about serving Bel as they showed on the surface, but I didn't expect any of them to approach me this directly. Meanwhile, she kept glaring at me, so I changed the topic. "In other words, you don't like the way Bel uses House Inanna and wanted to see me face-to-face to decide whether or not you want to bet on me instead?"

"In crude terms, yes," she admitted on the spot.

"Meaning you're acting on your own, without telling Bel or Noir about it," I noted, and as always, it took some mental effort not to accidentally call him Crowy again. "That explains the lack of guards."

We would've continued right away, but then we got interrupted by the younger man in the cloth armour returning to the table and delivering a cup of coffee to her. This place didn't serve any (surprisingly enough), so he must've gotten it from somewhere else. I was almost tempted to wonder whether this was some kind of signal or part of some psychological trickery, but I quickly shook it out of my head. Let's not descend into Celestial paranoia; maybe she just wanted a coffee. Sometimes a pipe was just a pipe, after all.

We both waited for him to leave our table, and only after taking a sip did the Matron say, "Are you sure I'm here without guards?"

I jerked my head towards the retreating back of the young man and said, "Excluding that fellow. It makes sense, I suppose; doing something like this would technically count as treason."

Her expression remained unchanging, but she did incline her head a bit.

"Such things are of little concern to me. Conversely, were you to spread my secret in public, it would've put both Noire and House Inanna in a delicate situation, so I had little choice but to come and meet you. If anything, you have forced my hand, something I do not appreciate during the best of times, let alone these days." She put her cup down and sent another chilling glare my way. "Which brings us back to the start of this conversation, and I'd welcome it if you were straightforward with me for once: What. Do. You. Want?"

"I think I already made clear what I want," I responded glibly and flashed a smile. "Just a Celestial communicator orb."

"Is that it?" She studied my expression for a while, then exhaled a soft huff. "I should've realized. It was too specific a subject for it to be just a means to an end."

At this point, she reached one wrinkled hand behind her back and then placed a small, worn wooden box on the table. I was confused for a moment, as it was too tiny, but when she flipped the lid open to show its contents, the magical glow emanating from the inside made it perfectly clear what it was supposed to be.

I covertly poked it with a phantom limb, just to be safe, and while it felt a bit simpler than expected, the 'pearl' inside certainly had some sort of communication enchantment on it. I figured it might've been an older iteration of the holographic orbs I was familiar with, but it was certainly in the ballpark of what I was looking for.

"This is my old Spirit Pearl. It's not connected to its twin anymore, and it's quite useless here in the Abyss, but I'm sure you have your reasons for requesting one. So?" She snapped the lid over the small, cloudy glass sphere shut and was about to put it away again. "How shall we deliver this to you?"

"Don't worry," I reached out in a hurry and snatched it out of under her fingers, much to her apparent shock. "I can take care of this."

"… This illusionary avatar of yours is more corporeal than expected."

Her voice sounded even colder than before, probably because she must've realised that if I was telling the truth, she just handed over her bargaining chip before she could put it to use.

"It's but a small trick," I spoke with false modesty even as I pocketed the small box.

My companion remained silent for a while, as if waiting for me to say something else, but when I didn't, she quickly ran out of patience and put her hands on the table again.

"This couldn't have been the only reason why you orchestrated this meeting. Were you already aware of my disagreement with the direction House Inanna was taking under the yoke of Bel of the Abyss? Were you planning to blackmail me, or simply predicting that I would provide you with aid as long as our goals aligned?"

Now that she said it outright, she really had worked herself into a corner here, and I really could use her background for blackmail, but… I was currently playing the role of the Big Good of the setting, and bald-faced extortion wasn't fitting that role. Not to mention, I was supposed to be in 'timeout' right now, and this was already skirting doing plot-relevant stuff a bit too much.

"Would you believe me if I told you that I only needed this, and I don't want anything else from you?" Her expression spoke a thousand silent words, so I switched track. "Listen. I have no reason to share your secret with anyone. I was going to take down Bel either way, and we didn't exactly write a contract or make a transaction. You effectively just did me a favour, so how about you tell me what you want, and I'll see what I can do about it."

The Matron was taken aback, but it only lasted for a second before she pressed me.

"When your crusade against Bel of the Abyss comes to fruition, I want you to limit the damage done to House Inanna and Noir to a minimum."

"… I can promise the first half, but as for the latter… I'm not exactly feeling obligated to protect that bastard, especially if he takes Bel's side."

She set her mouth in a thin line and insisted, "I understand that you two share a mutual antipathy, but this is a matter that involves not only all of House Inanna, but the Abyss as a whole. I thought someone of your stature would be able and willing to put his personal grudges aside for the greater good."

"Sorry, but that's a hard line I'm not willing to cross."

When I told her that on no uncertain terms, her nostrils flared, and she looked like she would jump to her feet at any moment in outrage. However, after several seconds of tense silence, she ultimately only hissed, "I did not expect such unreasonable stubbornness from someone people call the 'Peacemaker'."

"And I didn't expect some bastard to mind-control my sister either, but guess what? The world isn't perfect."

"Some bas—!" This time, she actually rose to her feet, only for her whole body to freeze mid-motion. She sat back down, but if anything, she looked more furious than when she was about to yell at me. "Are you referring to Noir?"

"Who else?"

"And this 'sister' of yours is…?"

"Neige, of course."

"… What kind of preposterous accusation is that?"

It was at this point that my head cooled a bit, and I finally put two and two together.

"Hold on. Are you trying to tell me you didn't know? About the mind-control choker?"

"I have no idea what you're referring to. Neige and Noir always had a close relationship."

"Like fuck they did!" I burst out, unable to control my indignation. The only reason that didn't turn a few heads was because, at some point, someone must've erected one of those privacy-magic barriers, though I didn't have the time to look for the signs of one. I still cleared my throat and muttered a soft, "Pardon my french, but that's still hogwash, no matter how you slice it."

The Matron eyed me for a while, unsure how to react.

"Are you truly trying to convince me that I never recognized something was wrong with the children?"

"With all due respect, you didn't recognize shit," I snapped back and crossed my arms. "Bloody hell… I can't decide which is worse; before this, I thought you and the rest were just ignoring what Crowy was doing to her because he's your liege or whatever, which is terrible but understandable. Now you're telling me you were completely unaware, which is slightly less terrible but infinitely more imbecilic."

"I… can't accept your words at face value…" she hissed through clenched teeth, "… but if nothing else, your outrage appears… genuine." She once again looked me deep in the eye, as if trying to read my mind. "You seem to care a lot for Neige."

"Of course I do. She's my little sister."

My immediate response made her eyes shake. We continued to stare daggers at each other for a while longer, but eventually her expression eased up, if only a little.

"I've heard that she's in your custody, but… Is she doing well?"

"Right now?" She didn't respond, so I shrugged. "She's doing fine, I think. She's attending school, and her grades are above average. She's getting along with the rest of the family, and she's learning how to do digital art and design nowadays."

"Is she eating well?"

"Maybe too well. The other day, she told me she was worried that if she put on weight, she'd have to cut back on apple pies."

"She still likes them? Does she continue to have an unhealthy fascination with servants and doing chores as well?"

"Don't call it 'unhealthy', but yes, she still does her maid cosplay from time to time. It's a cute hobby, and if anything, she got my other sister interested in it as well, and…" It was at this point that I realised that we were veering wildly off-topic, so I grabbed the reins of the conversation again. "We're losing track of the original discussion."

"True."

"I'm glad we're on the same page. In conclusion, we're at an impasse."

"An apparent impasse, yes." Her words carried a strange sense of finality, and she finished up her coffee in one go. "Under normal circumstances, I would never leave a negotiation table while at a disadvantage, but…" She suddenly rose to her feet, though this time in a more dignified manner. "Apprehending your avatar and retrieving my Spirit Pearl would only serve to inconvenience you while cutting off any chances of more advantageous negotiations in the future. Also… if what you told me is true, then my grasp on the household's affairs was less thorough than I believed. Something I must rectify as soon as possible. Let us say that we both received a favor from the other, and leave it at that."

"That's… one way to look at it."

She nodded and made a circling motion with her finger towards the two men standing at a couple of tables over before turning back to me.

"For today, let us part on amicable terms. Pray tell if the same would be true for our next meeting, but nevertheless, I wish you luck in your endeavors against Bel of the Abyss."

"In that case, I wish you luck in uncovering just how big of a dick your Liege is before he drags all of you down with him."

She clearly didn't appreciate my choice of words, but she must've long concluded that I was trying to get a rise out of her, so her poker face remained intact and she only nodded in acknowledgement. She then turned on her heel and left the salon, with Sir Armagnac and his nephew on her heels.

The Matron came and went like a storm, leaving me alone with my half-finished drink. Whether she would end up as an ally was still up in the air, but at the very least, she seemed to care for Snowy in her own way, so she couldn't have been that bad.

…

"Nah. She's a Celestial. Let's not set our expectations too high," I whispered before finishing my drink in one go and getting up from my seat.

To mix my idioms a bit, the box I just received was burning a hole in my pocket, and I was itching to see if my original plan had any merit, and as for the Matron… Closing my eyes, I felt the new mark at the edge of my vision, and a smirk settled on my lips once again.