On a paved road lined with blooming fields, the black car sliced through the air, its engine humming steadily. It was around midday. Claus and Elizabeth were engaged in calm conversation, their voices blending with the breeze drifting through the slightly open windows.
The capital gradually appeared on the horizon. Grand, bustling, alive.
The cobbled streets teemed with people. Lavish storefronts lined the roads like pearls strung around a velvet ribbon. Everywhere, elegant women stepped out of beauty salons, and sleek cars cruised by, carrying passengers like visions from another world. Majestic buildings, their balconies draped with orchids, rose into the azure sky.
"Thank you, driver," said Elizabeth.
The vehicle came to a halt. They stepped out.
"This is New Town, the Imperial Capital," she explained. "It was built by the first emperor after the war. Right here, on this very square, the alliance between the Church of the Sun King… and the Church of the Holy Moon was sealed."
"And that war… what was it really about?" asked Claus, catching the intrigued stares of several young women exiting a high-end fashion boutique.
"You're still quite the charmer. Look at them… they're practically devouring you with their eyes. Why not indulge, as you used to?" teased Elizabeth with a playful smile.
"I'm already in excellent company," he replied smoothly. "Why search elsewhere for what one already has?"
"You possess me? I've had enough of masters in my life," she snapped, turning away.
She stepped into a narrow alleyway between two buildings. The passage was dark, almost silent. But Claus followed without hesitation.
They stopped in front of a beige door. An apartment, hidden from view.
> Why hide an apartment in such a place? Claus wondered.
He didn't have time to voice the thought.
Inside, a youthful receptionist greeted them. She couldn't have been older than seventeen. Freckles dotted her fair face, and her hazel eyes sparkled beneath a crown of fiery red curls—an almost surreal image.
"Hey, Vicky," said Elizabeth.
"Lady Elizabeth! You're early today. What brings you here?"
"I've got some business to attend to. Is Winston in?"
"Yes, in his office. He's expecting you."
"Thank you. See you soon, Vicky."
"See you soon, Lady Elizabeth."
Elizabeth stopped at an elevator. When the doors opened, she stepped inside with Claus.
"Nothing to say, Sir Claus?" she asked as the cabin began its slow descent… into the depths.
"I don't judge. Everyone lives their life as they see fit."
"And what if I were one of those who tried to kill you? Does that question never cross your mind?"
"You're my teacher… and my protector. If you wanted me dead, there's nothing I could do. You're far too powerful for me to escape."
Elizabeth burst into laughter, covering her amusement with a delicate embroidered handkerchief.
"Magic? Oh, my dear… this world is no fairytale."
The elevator came to a halt with a sharp clunk. The door slid open onto a long underground corridor. At its end stood a massive metal gate. Behind it, an old man dozed on a stone bench. The gatekeeper.
"Mr. Alfred, I see you're as devoted as ever…" Elizabeth called out loudly.
The old man jolted awake, stammering:
"Lady Elizabeth… as radiant as always."
With a trembling hand, he opened the gate. They passed through.
A few steps farther, Elizabeth knocked on a small door set into the stone.
"You may enter, Lady Elizabeth… and Sir Claus," came a deep voice from within.
They entered.
The room was dim, lit only by a flickering gas lamp hanging from the ceiling. In its unsteady glow, Claus made out a short man with neatly combed grey hair, a thin mustache, and a monocle over his right eye. Seated at a desk, he was writing on a long scroll.
He didn't look up—just gestured for them to sit.
Claus remained silent, tense. A thousand questions buzzed in his mind… but he held his tongue.
"Good evening, Mr. Williams," Elizabeth greeted him.
The man removed his monocle, tucked it into his pocket, and finally lifted his gaze.
"Good evening, Lady Elizabeth. And to you as well, Sir Claus Bloodfall."
"Good evening… I see I'm known here."
"How could one not take an interest in a man… who was supposed to be dead?"
Claus's heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, his hand brushed the inside of his jacket—where the golden revolvers rested.
His senses sharpened instantly. He scanned the room, noting exits, angles, threats.
"With those golden revolvers under your coat, I doubt you'd get far here… but try, if it comforts you," said Williams, an enigmatic smile curling his lips.
"Don't worry, Claus. He is not your enemy," Elizabeth said softly, placing her hand on his.
He didn't flinch. Not a flicker of emotion broke through his wary gaze.
"Who are you exactly?" he asked in a level tone.
"Williams Atfford," the man replied, extending a hand.
Claus shook it, cautiously.
"That doesn't explain how you know me."
"I don't know you. But what I do know… is that you were dead."
"And how do you know that?"
"Because I know everything that is meant to happen in a given day. Every detail. Every minute. A month ago, you were dead. And now… you are a blank spot."
"But you knew I'd come."
"Thanks to Lady Elizabeth," he said, casting her a sly smile.
Claus turned slowly to her. She looked away.
"And the revolvers?"
"A gift from Mr. Alfred. Ever loyal," Williams chuckled.
"I don't have time to waste. I don't know where I am or why. I want answers," Claus said sharply.
"What do you know of this world, Sir Claus?"
"Nothing. That's what my teacher taught me."
"Then she's done her job well. Because in this world, nothing is taught… everything is uncovered. The mysteries of this world are vaster than the world itself."
Williams stood, approached a shelf, and retrieved an old book bound in green leather. Strange symbols covered its surface.
He handed it to Claus.
"Try to read."
Claus opened it. The pages were filled with unreadable signs.
"There's nothing here. Just… symbols. Doesn't the Empire use a single language?"
"What you call 'symbols'… is the true human language. The tongue of the Mythic Era. Every runic word defines the laws of the universe. It can distort, create, rewrite everything."
"And if it's so powerful… why did it vanish?"
"Because this world was built on the bones of those who spoke it. The runes were a threat. Too powerful. Every word in this language demands a price… for to use the language of the gods is poison to mortals."
"You mean the Sun King? The Holy Moon?"
Williams sneered.
"Gods who justify massacres, who legitimize slavery and war? I don't call them gods. They're tools—used to make the powerful even more powerful."
Claus held his gaze.
"And you… in all this—who are you?"
Williams smiled slowly, eyes burning with ancient fire.
"We are the ones… who unveil the grand mystery that is this world."