The sky wept relentlessly, cold water lashing the glass of the old car as if trying to wash the curse of the crime from the city of Loumiron.
The downpour intensified until the weak sunlight completely vanished behind heavy gray clouds, making the daytime feel like one long moment of twilight. In every neighborhood they passed, a few Gendarmerie personnel were scattered, banging violently on doors and conducting quick interrogations, escalating the general state of panic.
The two sat in the back seat, Ainliss idly flipping through the pages of the daily newspaper, its edges damp from the ambient moisture. He sighed heavily:
"News travels fast, Ethan. Death is the quickest messenger."
Ethan replied, his eyes watching the Gendarmerie movements in the street, as if every helmet reflected a threat aimed at him:
"Sure, it's the Mayor's death."
A strained silence fell between them until they arrived at the headquarters. They quickly disembarked, Ainliss holding the newspaper over his head as a feeble shield from the rain, and ran inside.
The headquarters was in utter chaos; the voice of the Center Commander bellowed through the hallways, the oak floor was covered with a layer of water and mud tracked in by the soldiers, and chairs were scattered everywhere.
The moment the commander noticed them, he yelled with muffled rage:
"Where are you taking that tramp?!"
Ethan flinched at the sharp sound, but Ainliss gave a cold smile and said:
"He's a vital witness, Captain. Let him get on with his work."
The Commander's face grudgingly calmed, and he resumed yelling at another soldier.
The two quickly entered the investigation room. Ethan noticed Arenwald standing rigidly, examining close-up photos of the crime scene, while Erail was engrossed in a massive file, comparing fingerprints lifted from the Mayor's pen against criminal records.
Ainliss said calmly, placing a hand on Ethan's shoulder:
"Ethan, don't worry. We know you are a Emissary, but your secret is safe with us."
Ethan tensed, his face flushing with fear.
"Okay... but what do I have to do?"
Arenwald turned around slowly, his brown eyes heavy with worry.
"There is a strong possibility that the Mayor's killer is an Emissary like you."
Ethan's fear increased, and he said with clear hesitation:
"An... Emissary? Is he the one who killed the 56 victims?"
Arenwald and Ainliss nodded. Then Erail pulled out a small piece of paper inside a transparent plastic bag and said:
"Can you recognize this language or symbol?"
Ainliss took the bag and handed it to Ethan. Ethan's expression suddenly flipped. He felt astonishment and fear, but after a pause, he nodded. Erail rose from his chair in shock. Arenwald said with uncharacteristic surprise:
"Tell us... what does it mean?"
Ethan stated:
"It's Chess."
Everyone said in unison:
"Chess?"
Ethan explained:
"It's a game in my world... based entirely on intellect and analysis."
Erail smiled, eager for details:
"How is it played?"
Ethan said:
"It's played on a board of 64 squares. Each player has 16 pieces, and they must trap the King. The pieces are the King, Queen, Knight, Bishop, and Rook, protected by eight Pawns."
Arenwald demanded:
"Can you draw the board and the pieces?"
"Yes," Ethan replied.
Ainliss gave Ethan a white paper and a wooden pen, and he began drawing the board in detail. Erail returned to his place to continue his work.
The required silence in the room was interrupted by Erail:
"The fingerprints on the pen belong to the Mayor alone... nothing unusual."
Arenwald slammed his palm on the table and started biting his fingers:
"Expected... the killer never leaves a trace on ordinary evidence."
Ethan finished drawing.
"Is this the only symbol there was?"
Ainliss said:
"There are 56 other symbols from previous crimes. Each crime left a symbol."
Ethan exclaimed excitedly:
"Exactly! Each symbol is a move!"
Erail asked: "And what exactly does this symbol mean? Qxd1?"
Ethan said seriously: "The Queen took a piece on square d1."
Everyone was puzzled. Arenwald hastily asked:
"Does that mean the D1 piece is the Mayor, and the killer is a girl?"
Ethan corrected him:
"No. It's a powerful move. And we must respond to it."
Arenwald asked again, fear starting to creep into his tone: "Who was he playing with then?"
Ethan fell silent. Erail interjected:
"He might be playing against someone else... or playing against himself to prove his superiority."
Ainliss nodded slowly, his eyes widening with a terrifying thought:
"Or... he's watching our movements and our investigations. He translates them into a move, then responds by killing another person and writing a new move."
Fear began to replace their concentration. Arenwald said hesitantly, gathering the scattered evidence:
"So the killer... is someone close to the investigation!"
Erail said quietly, gathering the papers on the table: "I've thought of this before... We must keep this investigation room completely locked, even from the Captain."
"True," Ainliss said calmly, then addressed his question to Ethan, cutting off his train of thought: "Can you explain every move to us from the start of the game?"
Ethan said nervously:
"It's difficult... especially without a real board to organize the ideas."
Arenwald intervened decisively, ending the discussion:
"A carpenter will take the job immediately. We will make the board and carve the piece shapes. It won't take long."
Ethan sighed in relief:
"Yes, it will be easier that way."
Arenwald nodded. Then Erail spoke:
"We must interrogate Fredon Nashak now, to see if there is a connection."
Ainliss said:
"Fine, let's go and leave him here. Maybe he'll notice something from the remaining symbols on the walls."
Arenwald's expression shifted to extreme seriousness.
"We can't do that. He will come with us."
Erail immediately agreed:
"I agree... We can't trust an Emissary, no matter how important he is in solving the puzzle."
Ainliss looked at Ethan, then raised his eyebrows in a silent gesture of forced understanding and cooperation. Ethan returned the look, realizing that his role in the game had begun.
The three left the room. Then Arenwald entered a small interrogation room alone.
The room had faded walls, and in the center sat a scratched wooden table and two chairs. Feredon Nashak was sitting there, his rain-soaked hair dripping onto the table. He was restrained by cold handcuffs, and his injured feet were covered in mud. His wet clothes were now a pathetic piece of cloth.
Feredon was extremely scared, trembling constantly, as if on the verge of death.
Arenwald placed his hand on his shoulder with feigned calm, then said:
"I'm told you're the killer, Mr. Nashak. What do you think?"
Feredon replied hesitantly, his eyes gleaming with terror:
"N... not me."
Arenwald patted his shoulder and sat opposite him.
"Tell me, Mr. Nashak. Why did you kill the Mayor?"
Feredon answered in a barely audible voice:
"I didn't kill him."
Arenwald said in a quiet, deadly tone:
"All killers insist they didn't do it, but eventually they confess. It's a cycle you know well, right?"
Feredon said with desperate impatience:
"You're just wasting your time..."
"I like wasting my time," Arenwald said with a cold smile. "Just like you like drawing strange symbols on your victims' bodies."
Feredon didn't reply, so Arenwald took advantage of his silence. "Do you belong to a specific cult? The one that drew the inverted triangle on his chest?"
Fredon said with clear terror, shaking his head fiercely:
"No!"
At that moment, the door burst open violently, and Ainliss entered, his eyes gleaming with a feigned, shocking look.
"Arenwald! We found out the killer belongs to a dangerous organization! This isn't an individual crime!"
Feredon turned to Ainliss, horror gnawing at his heart, as if this news was his death sentence. Arenwald analyzed his reactions with high precision, observing the tension in his facial muscles.
Arenwald smiled, his suspicions confirmed.
"Did you hear that, Feredon? Why are you lying to me?"
Feredon said hesitantly:
"I... I'm not lying... I don't know anything about an organization."
Ainliss gave a short laugh that wasn't devoid of threat:
"My Elven gut tells me you're a liar. Are you going to deny the Elf's intuition?"
Feredon said in a broken voice:
"I am not lying to you. I'm telling the truth. I'm not a killer."
Arenwald said:
"The truth is you are a monster without feelings."
Ainliss approached Fredon's ear, his voice becoming a snake-like hiss:
"We are going to view your memory. If you are guilty, confess now, or you will see what the Elves do to the memories of liars."
Feredon started trying to control himself, his muscles seizing up. "I'm not a killer... and I won't let you read my memory!"
Arenwald stood up, his shadow covering Feredon.
"As long as you are in our custody, we can do anything. You have no rights here."
Ainliss began playing with Feredon's wet beard, a deliberate gesture of insult and control:
"Yes, anything... hahaha."
Feredon said, his tears mixing with the rainwater: "Damn you... I'm not a killer!"
"Then, what do you mean by the inverted triangle with the eye inside it?" Arenwald asked with sudden sharpness.
The moment he finished speaking, Feredon's body began to shake violently, and he grew paler, as if struck by a sudden illness. Both investigators noticed a strong connection between Feredon and the symbol.
The interrogation room door opened with careful quietness. Erail entered, holding a small notepad where he had jotted down Feredon's trembling expressions and movements over the past hour. He stood beside Arenwald, his yellow eyes never leaving the suspect.
Erail said in a quiet, measured tone:
"So, Mr. Nashak, after all this stalling, who do you think the killer is?"
Feredon said with clear hesitation, raising his cuffed hands to cover his eyes for a moment:
"No one..."
Arenwald replied with lethal coldness, hitting the table twice:
"No one? Did the Mayor die by chance, then?"
Feredon returned to repeating his cryptic word, as if it were an incantation:
"They are no one... I don't know, I swear to you."
Erail said, leaning in beside Arenwald:
"Don't be afraid, Feredon, we will protect you from him. But you must tell us about him."
Feredon put his hands on his face, cold sweat gathering on his forehead.
"I don't know, please... I don't know!"
After hours of desperate stalling from Feredon, the door opened again. A man of medium height entered, wearing a long, dark, embroidered cloak, clearly suggesting he belonged to the class of Magic Officers.
His eyes held a deep, penetrating gaze, and on his cloak was a shield emblem with a glittering golden tree, the symbol of the Royal Gendarmerie of Bostgast.
Arenwald looked at him strangely; this face was new.
"Who are you?"
The man raised his right hand and placed it on his forehead in a unified military-magical salute, and said in a deep, solemn voice:
"I am a new investigator, my name is Engainari."
The investigators returned the salute in the same posture. Arenwald asked:
"Are you the new Memory Reader?!"
Engainari nodded slowly. Feredon's tension escalated, and his breathing grew audibly labored.
Arenwald said calmly:
"Welcome. You may begin your work immediately."
Engainari approached Feredon's head. He held his shoulders and began mumbling ancient words. Suddenly, a faint blue light began to emerge from his mysterious eyes, touching Feredon's forehead. Fredon let out a faint scream, and his body twitched for a brief moment.
Less than a minute later, Engainari withdrew his hands and took a sharp inhale. Then he said with certainty that allowed no doubt:
"He is innocent. He did not commit the murder."
Fredon exhaled powerfully, leaning back against the table in relief.
"I told you..."
Arenwald ignored Fredon's question. He turned to Engainari, who was arrogantly adjusting his cloak.
Arenwald asked with a sharp tone:
"Didn't you see anything regarding the Eye symbol?"
Engainari gave a cold smile, devoid of any warmth or humanity.
"All I saw was his attempt to buy the Bostgast forest. He's more corrupt than Dolgen himself. There is no mystery here, Investigator. There is greed."
Erail, who was putting his tools in his bag, interjected:
"What do you want with the forest, you bastard? Weren't the forests of Iranshahr territory enough for you?"
Feredon said with arrogance, regaining some of his previous conceit:
"Business, nothing more. And now, since I am innocent, I will leave."
Ainliss, hope dimming again in his chest, spoke decisively:
"Nonetheless, you do not have the right to leave the city until we find the killer. You are involved in something else, and your memory hasn't cleared you of that."
Engainari ignored Ainliss and coldly held out his hand:
"Can you give me the keys so I can unlock his shackles?"
Ainliss handed over the keys, then placed a bracelet on Feredon's hand, and Engainari left with Feredon. At that moment, Fredon had gained his temporary freedom but remained a prisoner of his fear and knowledge of the killer.
(The bracelet Ainliss placed on him is like a tracker device that cannot be removed due to a spell.)
A heavy silence fell over the interrogation room. Arenwald and Ainliss remained alone, staring at the wet chair Feredon had left behind.
Arenwald said, his eyes focused on the water stain on the table: "Ainliss, my gut screams that Engainari was lying. Innocence that fast?"
Ainliss said, slowly crossing his arms:
"Yes, mine too. Everything seems precisely planned. The Mayor's death, Feredon's imprisonment and fear of that symbol, then his sudden release."
Arenwald sighed deeply, the gray in his temples more prominent under the dim room lights.
"I hope we find something... otherwise we'll just be puppets in the hands of someone who sees our every move."
Moments later, the door burst open violently, bringing with it the headquarters' noise. The Captain entered, his face etched with a mix of shock and excitement.
The Captain yelled, breathless:
"There's a new witness! He just confirmed he saw the killer clearly... he saw everything!"
A beam of hope exploded in the eyes of Arenwald and Ainliss, as if they had found the only two gold pieces in a pile of ash. After 57 victims who were just symbols and letters, after all those nights of blind searching in the unknown, hope lay in the fact that they would finally recognize the shape of their killer, the face of the monster who had been watching them. For the first time, they would have eyes to see their opponent.