That's when Abe entered the picture. There are no traces of his family name or where he is from. He is the Vice-Captain of the High Knights. Although there are no records, one can make up his origins just from looking at him. He had a paper-white hair and red eyes. These characteristics can only mean one thing: He is an Albino—the race of a.s.sa.s.sins. Like the Heilen bloodline, they are desired by slave traders as well, due to their notorious strength in combat, and their skills for slaughter; given that their genes have been bred for years of killing. An a.s.sa.s.sin possesses a trait—the ability to camouflage one's existence.

Orwell gave the instructions to Abe, and it felt odd for him. He wasn't used to giving orders. Not to a High Knight who also is an a.s.sa.s.sin—or to people in general. He was a researcher. Even if he had been a President of the student council once, he was not the type to order everyone around. Orwell was a leader with a helping hand. Since Abe can conceal his presence, he could sneak to the Hidden Archives without being noticed by anyone else. Orwell also cast magic upon Abe so he could break towards the barrier of the mystical kind. It was prohibited, but Orwell did not trust the Priestess enough to ask for her help. There was something about her he found suspicious.

Abe sneaked towards the archive, sneaking and slithering like a snake, steps as light as a feather, presence hidden in the harmony of shadows. Abe was a skilled a.s.sa.s.sin even before the king brought him to his wing. His eyes were blank of emotion as he slipped pa.s.s through the magical barriers of the Hidden Archives. The night was dark and the moon's light did not illuminate underneath the ground; Abe's Albino eyes served as light through obscurity. He could see clearly as though it was a day. He could see white lines shaping the corners, as it shapes the path closer to three doors.

Two were locked. He proceeded to the one which was—unlocked?

Abe walked inside, and then…

'oh,' a voice softly whispers. 'you've come.'

Abe's expression was still unwavering—empty and blank.

Light sparked to the entirety of the vast room, and then it revealed few people with moss-covered shawls standing before gigantic bookshelves that towered along spiral stairs. There was one who was holding numerous books and proceeded to take it inside their cloak.

"Book," Abe says. "Need. List of cities."

He saw a smile on their lips.

Diener des Lichts. The servants of the Clairvoyants.

They spoke in unison, their mouth in perfect sync.

"A child of a tainted heart and a man of soiled hands." They say. "We could not give you what you so desire."

Abe walked forward towards them, holding his dagger.

"Complete. Task. Must."

The servants thud their staves in unison, and then a magic circle appeared. They chanted mantras, and then, as Abe blinked, they were gone without a trace.

They took the books—every record that could lead to Nebel.

Gone.

**

When Owen exited the office, Orwell entered holding his staff. He chanted a mantra; a spell to cast a barrier upon the entirety of the office to enclose it. It was done so that no one could spy on them from the outside.

Orwell smiled.

"I'm impressed." He says. "You're growing to be deceptive, Faustina."

Faustina clenched her fist around the dress she was wearing.

"I had to," she says, closing her eyes. "I didn't want to deceive Brother Lucas…"

"He's a real, honest guy." Orwell smiled sadly and then sat beside Faustina. He placed his hand atop hers, "I didn't want to deceive everyone too, Faustina."

Faustina's eyes opened and then she raised her head to meet Orwell's gaze. Through his spectacles, she saw how pained he was.

"Orwell… about the business you completed…" Faustina mumbles, "is it about Nebel?"

"It is."

Faustina gulped. "What did you find out?"

Orwell sighed.

"I ordered Abe to be the one to do it. I had a friend who searched the Archives for Nebel, but it was just a piece of general information. It's a village on the First King's time, but it doesn't state if it still exists to this day. That's when I ordered Abe to search in the Hidden Archives, located underneath the Capital's Archive. The Hidden Archives comprise of records that cannot be seen by the general public, and neither I nor my friend had access to it." Orwell explains. "So I had Abe to check it out. He didn't have access as well, but he's a High Knight, and he's an a.s.sa.s.sin. He could hide his presence. He's the best person to sneak to a concealed domicile."

"Wh-what did he find out?"

"Well, Abe's not reliable." Orwell sighed. "He didn't arrive in time."

"What do you mean?"

"There was someone who arrived at the Hidden Archives way before he did," Orwell explains. "The Diener des Lichts."

"Sheila…!"

"There is something the Priestess wants to hide from us, Faustina," Orwell says. "What I don't understand, is how she knew we were searching for Nebel."

Faustina thinned her lips.

Orwell sighed. "Anyway, I don't know but anything we could find about Nebel's been s.n.a.t.c.hed by Sheila. I'll try to gather information on other books, but let's cross our fingers at that first." He says. "But tell me what happened exactly in that sewer. I know you're not telling the whole story, Faustina."

"How did you defeat the marionette?"

**

As Lucas Feuerlon and the others exited the office, the silence resurfaced. It was morning but the tavern was still sprightly—there was, of course, another party this night. It was the last day of the End—Sunday. The festival lasts for two days, the start and last day of the End of the week. He presumed they had to stay for another night. They cannot depart at such a crowd, after all. Carriages would not be able to pa.s.s.

Earlier in the morning, Lucas already ordered Maddie to find another inn for them to stay in, regardless of its value. Lucas knew that Feuerlon Manor would not be safer any longer, given Orwell's speculation. Even though he still cannot believe it himself, Lucas was certain that taking precautionary measures wouldn't hurt him or others. He already told Ezekiel concerning these things, before they all left this morning. Ezekiel chose to stay at the manor. Magierstadt guards were there with him, and Lucas knew that, even if he considered Ezekiel a brat, he was powerful for his age and a virtuoso—the future heir to the t.i.tle of the schoolmaster of the academy. It was similar to being a king because Magierstadt was technically a country.

"Ye a dedicated bro, huh?" Owen exclaims. "Ye look like the duke a lot."

"Hmm," Lucas mutters. "I supposed you're… that woman's relative? You two look similar."

Owen grinned. "Are we? And I'm surprised plenty ye still remember her face."

Lucas faked a smile. "How could I not?"

Owen noticed this and smiled back. "I apologize for what'ver ye and yer brother've gone through. Rose was a child, a one neglected at that. If she did something so bad to yer family, it's out of her dad's neglect to her—to us."

"Forgiving someone because they've done bad things but they had a sad background for me is foolish." Lucas coldly states.

"Well, I've said what I wanna tell," Owen says. "Em gonna return to my Brothers. Ye should go outside the tavern, the kid's waiting for ye."

Owen turned his back and then proceeded to go.

"I'll never forgive someone who caused my mother unhappiness."

"Oh ye?" Owen simply says. "Ye should also tell that to yer father. It's not all Rose's fault."

**

Owen came back to the Faction and submitted his report on the happenstances of the night. And as promised, he did not state how the marionette was defeated. He said it was due to 'daybreak'.

It took him several minutes before he finally arrived at his home—the house he built when he started a new life over. He entered the premises, only to have his head hit with a stuffed bunny.

"You promised me you'll be here at midnight!"

"Sorry, ye know things happened at work—"

"Oh yeah?" A girl with emerald eyes and a red hair appeared, face flushed in anger. "You're all work, dad! You left me here, alone, with Mr. Perry!"

Owen chuckled.

"Ye, ye. Sorry 'bout that, princess of mine!" Owen grinned and knelt to embrace the child. "How could daddy make it up to ye?"

The girl smiled.

"Take me to the festival tonight!"