“I’ve told you everything that I can remember,” the man who went by Xueyan pleaded.

Strangely, Argrave hoped that the man would be a constant rhymer, if only so he could have some vague tie to Norman even despite the strange situation. Apparently he could rhyme, but didn’t always do so. The more questions Argrave asked, the more of a dead end that he reached. Frustrating as it was, he’d gotten the full story from Maestro Baobao, and this empty shell bearing Norman’s visage told no more stories.

Xueyan had woke up on the eastern shores of the Great Chu without so much as a memory of his own name. He knew how to speak, how to live, but little more than that. He was taken in by a local village, then joined a travelling troupe, then joined the opera. A set of happy coincidences… but Argrave couldn’t believe things aligned that perfectly. Someone was pulling the strings. Erlebnis? Sataistador?

“I don’t think he lies,” said Anneliese begrudgingly. “Your memory of this man is likely better than mine, but they do look identical. I believe that is where the similarities end.”

“Do you know me? My real name, my memories?” Xueyan asked urgently, his haunting red eyes looking between them.

Argrave looked at the man, wanting to call him Norman. He felt what was almost an instinct to fight him. But in the end, Argrave suppressed these thoughts, turned around, and looked up. There, the Alchemist waited for his signal. With the slightest of nods from Argrave, he was spurred into action. Almost faster than Argrave could see, the Alchemist knocked Xueyan unconscious with a spell.

“I’ll find out any secrets he holds,” the Alchemist promised, stepping past Argrave. “Refrain from putting me in the stone for the time being. I would not wish to move him from this location too quickly. Tell Elenore to contact Stain.”

Argrave gave one last look at Xueyan—Norman—then turned around with a grim shake of his head. “I want to know anything you learn.”

“And you will,” the Alchemist vowed.

Argrave walked away, and Anneliese joined him. She explained what he’d missed, searching for answers down here. “Governor Zen was contented being foisted off to court Patriarch Dras instead of us. Once he learned the Veidimen were our allies rather than subjects, he almost seemed eager to proposition the elf. But the governor underestimates the steadfastness of our people. Dras won’t give him anything.”

“Mention anything to him about the Palace of Heaven?” Argrave asked.

“No, only that the plans would come after the wedding ceremony.” Anneliese opened a door, and they marched up the stairs of the opera houses back to the now-empty booths. “We shouldn’t be too far behind. A boat is waiting for us.”

Argrave and her walked in silence through the largely-empty opera house, but eventually he broke the silence. “Have you noticed anything strange?”

this everywhere for that reason. I’ve been searching for him frantically, ready to draw it. Even Traugott wouldn’t be fearless

her. “Sounds like

his emotions, without a doubt. “I don’t feel it will be as straightforward as with Dimocles.” Anneliese looked into one of the empty booths, and the waterlogged stage beneath it. “Traugott is older. I think

looked at her. “Go

things.” Anneliese shook her head. “But I saw only darkness when peering into the Shadowlands. Alongside this darkness, there

He could tell she was bothered by this, but she’d never mentioned it to this point. That, in itself, told of how deep her concern was. She was open about nearly

asked, “Do you remember

eyes went distant as she lost herself to

like that. But the Shadowlands have all kinds

what I remember, nonetheless. A hound. The impression is seared

this content belongs

#####

still clear of any traffic, so it didn’t take long to return. Fortunately, he’d not missed any of his brother’s ceremony—there was

but Argrave prudently recalled him inside the Ravenstone and explained to the guards the existence of his guardian. Along the way, he clutched the Ravenstone,

there, I hope?”

brief, because I intend to return to this research as soon as I possibly can. The empty shell—it

long while, then felt some cold anger

no doubt. Xueyan, just as those dolls, just as ‘Castro,’ was created. I

“What does

creating. He has a template in Norman’s corpse. But the raw materials… I see the flesh of half a dozen different men and women, jammed together haphazardly in

searching for the heart of them. “Meaning… the only thing Traugott can make is empty shells that look

minutely, as the man refines his methods. But ultimately, it’s nothing more sophisticated than the chimeras that I can already create. No one can truly imitate Sophia’s power of creation. They can only make copies of

Argrave had faced—cleverest mortals, at least. Argrave tried to ensure that he didn’t have any repeat encounters with enemies… no one to bear a grudge, come back prepared. Yet countless times, Traugott had escaped him. He hoped, for

was a message within his kidneys. This is the reason I deigned to

The Novel will be updated daily. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

Comments ()

0/255