The Threads of Deception
A sudden, airy rush accompanied Stacian's swift exit and return. In place of her earlier robes, she now wore a simple, elegant blue dress—a stark contrast to the usual formality.
"Modest, huh?" Leornars noted, his eyes trailing over the cut of the fabric.
She gave a small nod, a faint blush dusting her cheeks, before offering him a soft linen towel.
They proceeded down the hall, the sounds of muffled weeping pulling them toward the next room. Inside, they found Marrielle and Rachel Suvallina, their faces streaked with tears, huddled over a bed. On it lay an old man, frighteningly frail, reduced to skin and bone. He looked less like a noble and more like a ghost clinging to life.
Leornars didn't hesitate. He instantly summoned the ethereal form of Zhyelena. She floated above the dying man, her eyes examining him with spectral intensity. She leaned down, whispering a few rapid, unseen words into Leornars's ear, then vanished as quickly as she had appeared.
A strange, almost predatory smirk curved Leornars's lips.
Stacian, ever the healer, rushed to the bedside. She pressed her hand gently against the old man's chest. A fit of deep, rattling coughs shook his body, and a splash of dark blood sprayed onto her hand. Leornars was there instantly, pressing the towel he'd been given into her grasp.
"Lord Leornars, I… I don't know what's wrong," Stacian murmured, her brow furrowed in concentration. "I've scanned his entire body for any disease or curse. I found nothing."
"How long has he been like this?" Leornars asked, his voice unexpectedly calm.
"Three years now," Rachel Suvallina answered, her voice tight with grief.
"What caused it?" Leornars pressed, leaning forward just a fraction, listening intently.
"All we know is he went inside a dungeon and was found the next day looking like this," she explained, worry etched deep in her features.
"Oh, a dungeon? Which one?"
"The western one. Why?"
"Nothing in particular," he said, the calmness in his tone almost unsettling. He pulled a heavy wooden chair over and sat.
"You know," Leornars mused, resting an elbow on his knee, "lately I've been hearing cases of kidnappings a lot in Vurnam. I wonder why? It's mostly women and children."
"Father? Can you hear me?!" Rachel called out, desperate, as the lord coughed weakly, his body a monument to deprivation.
"I can cast healing spells on him," Stacian offered, her magical energy already beginning to gather.
"No. Let him die."
The pronouncement echoed in the room, loud enough to silence the sobs. Rachel and Marrielle froze, staring at him in utter disbelief.
"What's the point of healing a dying man?" Leornars added, his gaze chillingly pragmatic.
"It's not his fault for being like this!" Rachel shouted, tears spilling anew.
"So who are you blaming?" Leornars challenged, his eyes narrowed. "Me? God? Life? Or karma? Tell me, whose fault is it?"
"I don't know!" Rachel cried out.
"Exactly. Since we don't know the cause, it's future me's problem," he concluded, settling more comfortably into his chair. He spotted a bowl of ripe apples—likely meant for the lord—and casually took one.
He held it up, focusing a sliver of arcane energy. "Thread of Abstract," he whispered. He tossed the apple into the air, and before it could fall, an invisible force sliced it into immaculate pieces. He caught one, taking a slow, deliberate bite.
"I knew you were heartless… I HATE YOU!" Marrielle screamed, turning and bolting from the room, her cries fading down the corridor.
Leornars watched her go, then turned back to Rachel. "But," he said simply, "I can heal him."
Rachel's tear-filled eyes widened in shock, then flooded with immediate, overwhelming hope. "You can?! THANK YOU!"
Leornars raised a hand, stopping her effusive gratitude. "It's not free."
"I'll do anything," she pleaded, dropping to her knees by the chair. "I'll give you the treasure, the books... anything!"
Leornars's lips curved into a dark, knowing smile. "I'm not interested. That is in a different agreement, Suvallina, or have you forgotten?"
"W-what if I gave you my chastity?" she offered, her voice barely a whisper, utterly defeated.
"I'm sorry, but I'm not a gorilla in heat," he said with brutal dismissal. "I'd rather not waste my time and energy on you."
"What do you want then?" she asked, her spirit finally broken. "I'll do it."
Leornars leaned closer, and his aura manifested—a shimmering, serpentine form that coiled just behind his back. "Oh, really? Can you take your own life?"
She flinched violently. Stacian looked on, a flicker of genuine horror in her eyes.
"Manipulation 101," Leornars explained, his voice low and instructive, ignoring everyone else in the room. "Always look for something the person holds dear, then use it against them. Most will try fighting back or bribe you with something you need, so you reject that offer and create an impossible one. Let them break, then be the hero and pretend you don't need it after you found something better."
He let the serpentine aura dissipate. "I need you to give me all the log books and documents on trade in the last two years. I know saying ten years would be a stretch impossible to pull off."
"Just that?" she whispered, stunned.
Stacian, who had been holding her breath, let out a quiet sigh.
"Yes. Nothing more," Leornars confirmed. Rachel scrambled to her feet and rushed out of the room.
Leornars turned to the butler and maids who had been witnessing the whole exchange. "Get out," he commanded, his tone sharp and intimidating. They fled without a second glance.
"Lord Leornars, what is the end goal?" Stacian asked, once the door clicked shut.
Leornars picked up a small notebook from a side table, scribbled something quickly, and handed it to her. Stacian read it, her serious expression slowly breaking into a surprised laugh.
"My, my," she said, shaking her head. "This is a pickle."
Rachel Suvallina returned, clutching a large, overflowing folder, which she thrust into Stacian's arms.
"Well done," Leornars said, standing. "We'll heal him by tomorrow morning."
He walked out, Stacian following close behind. Rachel, left alone, sank onto the bed and simply hugged her unconscious father.
A New Revelation
Later, in Leornars's private chambers, he sat on the edge of his bed while Stacian took a nearby chair. Zaryter was on the floor, gently feeding his little sister Shullah. Leornars reached out and took the child onto his lap, continuing to feed her himself. Zaryter watched, a small smile on his face.
"Uncle Leornars is strong," Shullah declared, a compliment so innocent it momentarily softened Leornars's usual rigid composure.
"Oh my, my," Leornars chuckled, "you do know flattery."
Zhyelena appeared in a shimmer of light. Bellian stood guard outside the door.
"Zhyelena, inform everyone on what you know," Leornars instructed.
Zhyelena cleared her throat. "Okay. I have discovered that Lord Martin Suvallina is not under any curse or disease."
"So he's faking it?" Zaryter asked, astonished.
"Yes. He is using his 'illness' as a tool so no one would suspect him of slave trading with Durmount and the former monarchy of Lurtra," Zhyelena stated.
"That lying old piece of garbage is letting his daughter, Rachel, govern Vurnam while he sells children," Leornars added, his voice laced with disgust.
"How did you know?" Zaryter asked, completely bewildered.
"First, I summoned Zhyelena, who has mind-reading, and she checked. It was as I thought," Leornars explained, gently wiping Shullah's mouth. "Then I told Stacian, who used her Divine Eye of Shalba to check through his soul for any deception. Then I asked the questions."
"Those questions seemed normal," Zaryter countered.
"No. First of all, Stacian found no illness or curse. He was supposedly found like that in the western dungeon," Leornars patiently dissected. "I go to that dungeon every day to collect undead. The only monsters there are high-level ones, like orcs. And judging from his body, there were no scars. So obviously, he was lying."
Zaryter looked utterly shocked. Leornars fed Shullah another spoonful.
"Can't we tell her?" Zaryter pleaded, thinking of Rachel.
"Yeah, poor Marrielle thinks you're a monster," Zhyelena chimed in.
"Sometimes, monsters are misjudged," Leornars said with a wry tone.
"I think we should tell them," Zaryter insisted.
"Don't be stupid," Stacian interjected, her expression serious. "How would you feel knowing your father is selling children off and smuggling pollium?"
"Pollium?" Leornars asked, his attention sharp. "Is that the drug?"
Stacian nodded. "Yes. The day we arrived in Vurnam, when you sent Bellian and an illusion to speak to the mayor, he tensed when accused of drug dealing. So I began investigating and found proof. There's a shipment always delivered on Monday and Friday noon in the woods."
She leaned forward. "That drug is mostly sold to orphans and the homeless. It's cheap, so many buy it because it causes hallucinations. They use it once, and are then kidnapped and sold off."
"Yes, and the fact that they can pass through the sand dunes where the sand beasts are means that they are someone in authority," Zhyelena concluded.
"So we bust them?" Zaryter asked, his eyes lighting up with the prospect of action.
"No. It's not our problem unless it involves us," Leornars corrected. "The plan is exposing the lord. And ending the slave trading rings."
"Poor Rachel and Marrielle," Stacian sighed. "They have no idea their father is using them."
"By the way, where's Ayesha?" Leornars asked, finally noticing her absence.
"She's in the basement creating something," Zaryter said.
"Oh, let her be then," Leornars accepted.
"What are the documents for, anyway?" Zaryter asked.
"Yes, I'm not sure he'd write down the slaves he sold," Stacian added, confused.
"My, my, that's what the lord will think too. But I'm not interested in slaves," Leornars said, patiently putting Shullah back down. "These documents are only for trading. I need to see what Vurnam City is selling or buying in large amounts. When Avangard is ready, it'll be the second region of trade. We already have Lurtra on our fingers, so next is securing relations with Vurnam."
"Ohhh… Trade, ally union, and enemy suppression," Stacian summarized, snapping her fingers.
"Precisely," Leornars confirmed, his dark eyes gleaming. "Now, let's get creative."