Edmund leaps off the table with agile grace, darting through the back door as his companions follow suit in a frenzied exit. Once they burst onto the street beyond, panic sets their feet to scurrying in all directions.
Elizabeth wastes no time; her eyes fixed on Edmund as she swiftly gives chase. Her footsteps reverberate through the air, growing closer and closer as she slowly closes the gap between them. Edmund's face reddens with exertion as he frantically attempts to outmaneuver her. He dashes around a corner, momentarily disappearing from view.
Upon reaching the bend herself, the mayor is met with a disorienting sight - two Edmunds, each running in opposite directions, their faces contorted in identical grins. Frozen by this unexpected twist, Elizabeth stands at the crossroads, uncertainty clouding her resolve. Her eyes dart back and forth between the two, her expression a mix of frustration and amusement. The two Edmunds, sensing her uncertainty, seize the opportunity to taunt her. They spin around, their faces twisted into silly smirks, and Elizabeth can't help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. She suspends her pursuit, allowing Edmund to make his escape.
Feeling triumphant from outwitting the formidable mayor, Edmund tries to reconnect with his friends. He skillfully avoids major streets, wary of her pursuit, and weaves through shadowy, narrow alleys instead. As he navigates a crossing between two backstreets, suddenly, a hand emerges from the darkness, seizing him by the collar of his shirt. Startled, Edmund struggles to break free, but upon recognizing the mayor's face, he ceases his resistance, crosses his arms and pouts, clearly miffed at being foiled.
Edmund remarks with feigned annoyance, "Man, I was sure I had slipped through your fingers this time." Elizabeth smirks, her tone steady and resolute. "It doesn't matter if you have a Semblance, Edmund. As long as you remain predictable, I'll always be able to catch you."
Edmund retorts with mock innocence, "But I made sure to take a different route. How did you track me down?" Elizabeth responds in kind, her voice smooth and confident, "Mayor's little secret. Now, come on. I would like to hear all about these 'other' missing kids."
Edmund mutters under his breath, "… You heard that? Ah man… Guess I'm going to see Hugo again." Elizabeth nods, a trace of tired amusement in her eyes. "You guessed correctly."
As the mayor steps into the golden light, her piercing gaze captures Edmund's mischievous visage, his ruddy complexion and messy blond hair forming a captivating combination with the dark brown eyes that sparkle like trouble. Elizabeth's gaze lingers on Edmund's weathered face and tattered clothes, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity. Her eyes narrow slightly as she takes in the scattered bruises that mar his skin, a silent testament to some recent turmoil. The mayor's voice is firm but infused with a hint of compassion as she speaks: "What happened to you? You look like you've taken hell of a beating."
Edmund's response is hesitant, his words measured as if weighing the cost of revealing too much. His gaze drifts away from her probing eyes, lost momentarily in thought. Finally, he meets her gaze again with a rebellious edge to his tone. "It was just the usual," he says, attempting nonchalance. "Got into a scuffle with some boys."
The mayor strides purposefully down Clairforet's main street, which serves as the artery connecting the train station to the town hall. While dragging a reluctant Edmund behind her, she approaches the midway between these landmarks. An imposing police station comes into view - its weathered stone exterior bearing intricate carvings that seem to tell the story of the town's resilience. The mayor's eyes narrow as she pushes open the creaking door, revealing the simple yet elegant interior of the lobby. The room stretches wide, punctuated by wooden benches and bookshelves that add a touch of sophistication to the atmosphere. The polished wood
walls and ceiling seem to glow with a soft luminescence, while the white stone floor shines like a beacon in the silence.
Despite the sense of abandonment that pervades the town, the police station still maintains a certain air of tidiness, as if waiting for the return of its full contingent of officers. Dust has accumulated on higher surfaces, however, telling the story of months gone by without the usual bustle and activity. The silence here is thick, punctuated only by the occasional creaking of old wooden beams.
At the heart of the room, the reception desk stands like a sentinel, dividing the main lobby from its cozy nook to the left. The desk itself appears worn but sturdy, with a faint scent of old leather and polished wood. Behind the desk stand two doorways, one on the back wall and one on the right wall. A steel door looms in the far-left corner of the lobby's nook, a barred window at its top casting a faint chill over the otherwise calm space.
Stationed at the reception desk is a tall officer in his fifties, slightly overweight, with short brown hair and a pair of rosy cheeks that soften his demeanor as he scans a report. Upon hearing the front door creak open, he lifts his gaze to recognize Elizabeth alongside the familiar figure of Edmund in tow. "Ah, I see Edmund got into trouble again," remarks Hugo, raising an eyebrow with a hint of amusement. "What has our resident prankster did this time?"
Edmund quickly tries to win Hugo over with charm and sincerity. "Officer Bleier, I swear I haven't done anything foolish today." Elizabeth cuts through his defense with urgency. "Don't play innocent now, Edmund. I need your help, Hugo. It's about Felix."
Hugo looks intrigued. "Oh? Is the old man Emil still bothering?" Elizabeth seats Edmund nearby. "Emil's worries might be justified. This could be a bigger issue than we thought." She turns back to Edmund with determined eyes. "Now, you mentioned three other delinquents are missing. Can't you tell me their names and when they were last seen?"
Edmund hesitates before answering. "It's Wil, Pete, and Erich. Wil was last seen almost four weeks ago. Every week since, another one would go missing. We weren't really concerned, since the first three regularly skip town for weeks. But Felix's disappearance is different. He loved his grandpa and always came home on time, even when something interesting was happening."
Elizabeth then turns to Hugo. "Have you heard about this before?" Hugo shakes his head. " No, I haven't. Wilhelm, Peter, and Erich are infamous for causing trouble and vanishing without a trace."
Elizabeth sighs. "I'm afraid we've got our work cut out for us in the coming days." She turns back to Edmund. "Where are the other delinquent leaders now?" Edmund glances around nervously before speaking up. "They've gone searching outside of town. There are only a few left to keep an eye on things, including myself." Elizabeth's eyes narrow. "Where are they hanging out these days?"
Edmund hesitates, not wanting to give away their hangout spots. But the serious look on Elizabeth's face persuades him to reveal at least some of their locations, especially those involving rival groups. "… Around the warehouse district and Woodsmith homes," he says reluctantly. "The house we were in won't be inhabited for a while, but there are a few more homes we have been able to get inside of. In the warehouse district, they could be anywhere."
Hugo lays out the town's map on a bench. Edmund highlights the Woodsmith homes where delinquents tend to gather. "Good," says the mayor approvingly. "Hugo, ready one of the cells. Make sure it's comfortable for the kid." Hugo nods silently, and Elizabeth gently steers Edmund toward the looming steel door.
Once the mayor opens the door, Edmund finds himself in a familiar place, the hallway with prison cells to its right. Each cell is separated from the hallway by metal bars, their cold sheen a stark contrast to the warm, inviting atmosphere of the main lobby. The mayor opens one of the prison doors and leads Edmund inside. The boy sulks as he looks around the small space. "… After all that I've told you, I still got to jail... So uncool..."
Elizabeth's expression remains firm. "Don't act spoiled now. This is for your safety. Plus, we all know you won't stay put unless I lock you up."
After securing Edmund behind bars, the mayor walks into the lobby where Hugo emerges from one of the rooms, carrying bedding intended for the young detainee. Elizabeth asserts with caution, "If this news spreads, it will cause unrest. I want you to keep everything under wraps. Once you've settled Edmund for the night, find four reliable individuals who can be trusted to keep a secret. Have the two of them start patrolling the areas Edmund mentioned. You and I will handle the night shift—I'll take care of the north-eastern neighborhood while you cover the western warehouses. Let's maintain this vigilance for a few days." Hugo nods curtly in understanding.
The sun has already climbed high by the time Elizabeth steps out of the police station, well past lunchtime. As she enters the town hall, her daughter catches the faint strain in her breath and the worry shadowing her features. "Mother," Anne says gently, sensing something amiss, "did something happen?"
Taking a brief moment, the mayor straightens herself and draws in a calming breath. "Hopefully nothing serious. A few other kids have gone missing, so we've arranged patrols for the next several days." She pauses for a moment. "You should stay clear of the western warehouses and north-eastern neighborhood for now. But please don't tell anyone; we don't want to cause any panic."
The mayor takes a moment to catch her breath and tidy herself up. "I do need to cancel my current appointment as well. I promised to have lunch with a new arrival in our town." She turns to Anne with an apologetic smile. "Can you reschedule my upcoming appointments to another day?"
Anne nods understandingly, her concern mingling with support. "Yes, of course. Is there anything else I can help with?" Elizabeth smiles warmly at her daughter. "No, sweetheart," she replies softly. "What you've done today is more than enough. You should go home after I'm back from lunch. You still have studying to do."
As the mayor exits the town hall, she finds the main square relatively deserted. Lunchtime has long passed, leaving only a few lingering residents at the nearby restaurant. The mayor spots Lleuad standing nearby, engaged in conversation with an elderly woman dressed in a simple attire.
Elizabeth slows her pace as she approaches them. "Hope I'm not too late," The woman's eyes light up upon seeing her. "I was so tempted to steal him from you, darling," she jokes lightheartedly. "He's so much fun to talk with. Who would have thought our town would be graced by a Storyteller?"
The mayor smiles warmly at the sentiment. "I wouldn't blame you, mother. Meeting someone like Lleuad brings back fond memories for me too." She turns to Lleuad with sincerity and an apologetic tone. "Thank you for your patience, Lleuad. I hope the wait wasn't boring."
Lleuad replies enthusiastically. "Not at all. Speaking with Felicity was quite enjoyable. Time flew by without notice." Elizabeth's face brightens with gratitude. "I'm glad to hear that." She turns back to her mother. "Mother, lovely to see you out today. Feeling better?" Felicity nods, appreciating her daughter's concern. "Yes, I do. Need to get some exercise once in a while." Relieved by her mother's response, Elizabeth offers, "Would you like to join us for lunch?" Felicity's eyes light up with delight. "I would love to."
The trio settles into one of the restaurant's outdoor tables. Shortly after, Olga arrives, presenting them today's menu. "You're quite late today, mayor. Busy day?" She remarks. Elizabeth glances at the waitress with a hint of exhaustion but remains composed. "Yes, it has been. I'll have my usual," she says. Glancing at Lleuad, she adds, "Feel free to choose anything you like. It's on me."
Lleuad responds kindly. "Much appreciated… I'll go for the soup." Elizabeth is a bit surprised by his modest request. "You don't have to be this modest." Lleuad reassures her with a smile, "It's alright. This will be plenty."
Olga then turns to Felicity. "And what about you, Miss Bouton?" Felicity, not having glanced at the menu, replies confidently. "A salad, thank you." "Absolutely!" Olga responds and departs to prepare their order.
As the restaurant owner departs from their table, Elizabeth turns towards Lleuad and Felicity, her eyes brimming with curiosity. "So, what have I missed?" she inquires. Felicity replies nonchalantly, "Not much. I was just telling him about our humble town."
Lleuad joins in enthusiastically, visibly excited by the topic. "I wouldn't call it humble. Clairforet is quite fascinating. I'm surprised to hear that this town is over 500 years old, with its own rich history, and remains the heart of this region. It once had rulers who controlled nearby lands and has fairy tales I've never heard before—like Babaroga, which the kids mentioned. Given how deserted it looks now, I would have never guessed it's one of Vale's breadbaskets."
Elizabeth nods in agreement. "Yes, you've arrived at an unfortunate time. This place is usually buzzing with energy. During lunch hours, everyone gathers in this town square. Has my mother told you about Vale's conscription system?" Lleuad shakes his head. "No, I haven't asked her about it since you promised to fill me in."
Elizabeth meets Lleuad's gaze with appreciation as she begins her explanation. "You've likely heard that the Kingdom of Vale is the largest and oldest nation in all of Remnant." Lleuad nods as she continues. "It proudly claims descent from the legendary Sorcerer Kingdom of the mythic age—a legacy that still shapes its identity today. When other great nations began to rise, Vale established the conscription system we now know, both to strengthen its military and to safeguard its borders. Since then, every citizen over the age of twenty has been required to serve. In our region, this duty aligns with the fallow year, when the fields are left to rest and recover—a pause in farming that becomes a time for service."
Elizabeth pauses briefly after her detailed explanation before addressing Lleuad again. "Since you said you haven't stayed in Vale for too long, are you perhaps not from around?" Lleuad nods. "I was born in an independent town on an island partially colonized by Australis. I left my hometown at a young age and traveled the world, primarily visiting different places across the eastern continent."
Elizabeth's eyes widen with surprise. "Oh! You've been to the Eastern Empire? It's quite rare seeing someone who visited the place, considering it closed its borders to the outside world. You must have countless stories to share." Lleuad's voice fills with enthusiasm as he replies, "Yes! I've seen and learned so much during my travels. The eastern continent is full of different cultures, practices, laws. It broadens your perspective significantly."
Felicity chimes in with a smile, "I can relate. When I was young, I had the chance to travel to every major nation in the world, including the Eastern Empire when its borders were still open. But I must say, nothing beats home. I would get so homesick if I stayed abroad for too long. What about you, Lleuad? Have you ever felt that way?"
A melancholic smile creeps across Lleuad's face. "Yes, I have," he admits softly. Felicity continues with excitement, "Have you ever gone back to your hometown?" After a short pause, Lleuad replies, "No, I haven't... But I do want to go back someday."
Elizabeth notices something peculiar in Lleuad's interaction with her mother. His face still wears a warm smile, yet his eyes betray no hint of joy—a sorrow lurks beneath this inviting exterior. Before she can delve deeper, Olga brings over their food. Elizabeth decides to drop the topic.
As they prepare to eat, Lleuad assumes an unusual posture by placing the palms of his hands together at the chest level and closing his eyes to embrace a moment of silence. Then, he picks up a slice of bread and a
spoon, beginning to savor his meal. Elizabeth watches the Storyteller's sudden display of calm with curiosity, but decides against probing into it, still pondering their recent conversation.
The three of them happily indulge in their lunch. Lleuad shares captivating tales of his travels, recounting the fascinating sights he has encountered and the many people he has met along the way. When Elizabeth finishes her meal, she prepares to return to work.
Before leaving, the mayor turns to Lleuad once more. "I want to thank you again for entertaining the kids this morning. Watching your performance reminded me of my own carefree days as a child whenever a Storyteller would come to town. Each time I saw someone with silver eyes, I assumed they were here to share tales we had heard countless times before, yet somehow those stories never grew old. But ever since I turned 17, they stopped coming. Now, a new generation has risen that's never even heard of Storytellers. I hope at least my daughter Anne gets to experience one of the joys of my youth."
Lleuad reassures Elizabeth with a warm smile. "I'm planning to tell more tales tonight after dinner. She is more than welcome to join."
The sun slowly dips below the horizon, casting a warm glow over Clairforet as Elizabeth secures the town hall for the evening. The main square buzzes with activity, its inhabitants drawn together by Lleuad's captivating storytelling. As she approaches, Elizabeth notices her daughter Anne and mother Felicity thoroughly immersed in the performance. She joins them on the sidelines.
"What did I miss?" Elizabeth asks, smiling at their shared enjoyment. Anne's face lights up with surprise at her mother's arrival. "Oh! The Storyteller just finished the tale of Bitter Love," she says, her voice filled with wonder. "I've never heard such a heartbreaking tale of two lovers perpetually separated by fate."
Elizabeth nods thoughtfully, a faraway look in her eyes. "Yes, I remember it well." A hint of wistfulness creeps into her voice. "I've always found myself resonating with Salem ever since falling for your father. If he were ever taken from me, and I knew there existed a way to bring him back, I would be consumed by an overwhelming grief, my heart filled with anger towards the gods who dared to keep us apart."
Anne gazes at her mother with a mixture of empathy and disagreement. "I find myself more sympathetic to Ozma, though. Placed in such an impossible situation, he's destined never to find true happiness."
Felicity leans in closer, her eyes twinkling with anticipation. "Shh. He's about to begin another tale."
With a deliberate grace, Lleuad raises his hands, signaling that he is about to begin a new tale. "As my last performance, tonight I will tell you the tale of the Grimm Count." A hush settles upon the assembled audience, their murmurs fading into an anticipatory silence, everyone eager to be transported by Lleuad's words.
"Once upon a time," Lleuad begins, his voice rich and commanding yet tinged with an undercurrent of unease, "in a land not so unlike your own, there lived a boy who was as ordinary as any child you might know. He had friends to play with, family that cared for him deeply, days filled with laughter and those shadowed by sorrow."
The crowd leans in closer as Lleuad paints the picture of this everyday life—a tapestry woven from threads familiar to each listener.
"Tragedy struck one fateful day when his beloved mother fell gravely ill," he continues. "With despair hanging heavy in their humble home, they found no cure within reach—no remedy to spare her from a cruel fate. At this moment of utter hopelessness, the boy was visited by an enigmatic figure—the Grimm Count known as Lestat Germaine. Cloaked in an impenetrable darkness, his face hidden beneath a mask as white as bone, he exuded an aura both mesmerizing and menacing. The crimson glow of his eyes seemed to burn through the encroaching shadows. With a voice smooth yet chillingly detached, the Count offered the boy unimaginable power—an opportunity to
save his mother's life. Without hesitation, fueled by desperation and love, the boy accepted the offer. "There is a price," the Count intoned solemnly, "One day I shall return to claim what is mine." But the boy, desperate to see his mother healed, vowed silently that he would endure any cost. Upon consuming the Seed of Power, strength surged through him like never before. Through this newfound might, he found and administered the cure. For a while, their home was filled with joyous celebration; the boy hailed as a hero by all who heard his story. Yet, as time passed, an insatiable hunger gnawed at his soul—a curse he could not quell. It began innocuously, consuming strangers near his home. As they dwindled away, it grew bolder, devouring neighbors and friends alike. Ultimately, driven by this relentless appetite, the boy even turned to those he cherished most. His mother stood alone with him until that hunger claimed her too, a cruel twist of fate given that the power he wielded to save her ultimately took her life. Left in isolation and regret, the boy mourned his foolishness, cursing Lestat Germaine for the ruin of his life. Yet, when the Count returned as promised, he simply replied to the boy's curses, "Don't deceive yourself, child. You knew there was a price. The blame rests solely on your shoulders." Overwhelmed by great despair, the boy found himself being devoured by his own power, giving life to a nightmarish Grimm—a loyal servant to the Count. The boy's fate was more harrowing than death itself. His soul, once vibrant with dreams and innocence, now lingered within the beast he had birthed."
With a somber tone that lingered like mist over the audience, Lleuad concludes, "Remember this tale, both young and old. Beware the Grimm Count, who seeks to take your soul."
The little ones shiver with fear at the tale. Older kids rally around their younger companions, boasting confidently that they would never be deceived by the Count's cunning lies. The elderly, who have witnessed and retold this story through countless generations, applaud the Storyteller warmly. For them, it's a familiar narrative—a cautionary tale passed down to warn against trusting strangers.
Elizabeth exclaims, her eyes shining with admiration, "What a magnificent performance!" Felicity nods fervently, a shiver still lingering from the tale. "Indeed. When he spoke the Count's words, it sent shivers down my spine. He captured that terror so perfectly." Elizabeth muses aloud, "Oh, if only everyone could share these tales with their children as skillfully as him. I'm certain they'd be far more obedient afterward. No child would even dream of trusting a stranger after hearing this."
The mayor turns to Anne with an inquisitive glimmer in her eyes, eager to hear her thoughts. "What did you think?" she asks her daughter gently, hoping for a response. However, Anne remains silent for a moment, her gaze drifting off into the distance. The serious look on her face was so intense it was almost... unsettling. Yet, as the mayor's gaze shifts toward her, Anne's demeanor softens as she seems to snap back into reality. Clearing her throat softly, she responds with a hesitant tone, "Ah? Yes... This tale gave me the chills. Having a Storyteller weave the narrative truly makes all the difference."
As applause subsides, the crowd begins to thin, each person heading home for dinner. Elizabeth, accompanied by Felicity and Anne, approaches the Storyteller. She praises him again with genuine warmth, "An incredible performance. I almost forgot how terrifying the Count is in this tale." Lleuad smiles modestly. "I'm glad you liked it."
Elizabeth, eager to share more about her family, adds, "I don't know if you've met my daughter, Anne. She really enjoyed your tales." Lleuad nods with fond expression. "We met not long after you left. She seems like an earnest child. Felicity couldn't stop talking about her." Elizabeth beams proudly. "Yes, she is my pride and joy." A warm flush of happy embarrassment creeps up Anne's cheeks, infusing them with a gentle glow as she hears her mother's kind words.
The mayor's voice softens as gratitude fills her words once more. "Thank you again for entertaining us all. Have you found a place to stay for the night?" Lleuad responds with a light-hearted chuckle, "Yes, I have. There were quite a few people willing to lodge me. This place is very welcoming." Elizabeth's relief and
happiness shine through. "I'm glad to hear that. Well… We should be off now. Have a wonderful night." Lleuad nods with a friendly smile, "You too. Hope to see you again."
As Elizabeth, Anne, and Felicity enter their cozy home, the warm glow of the fire dust lamp they've just lit casts a golden ambiance over the foyer. The simple, unassuming facade of their house blends seamlessly into the neighborhood, but as they step inside, the dark-colored hallway reveals its true character - a treasure trove of family portraits and closets that seems to wrap around them like a comforting embrace. Felicity, with quiet efficiency, disappears into the kitchen to reheat dinner, her voice carrying out into the hallway: "Dinner will be ready soon." Elizabeth and Anne slip into the dining room, where they're greeted by the imposing China cabinets, their ornate handles glinting in the soft light. As they open the doors to retrieve the dishes, the air is filled with the gentle clinking of plates and the soft murmur of conversation.
"How are your studies going along?" Elizabeth asks Anne, her voice a gentle inquiry as she places the first plates on the table. "It's going well," Anne responds immediately, her eyes sparkling with confidence as she brings the silverware to the table. "I've covered all the hard topics. Just a few simple ones remain."
Elizabeth's expression turns thoughtful as she adds the cups to the table. "Would you like some extra time off to brush up on everything? You have a little over a month left before college starts." Anne smiles, sensing her mother's worry, and takes a step closer. "Don't worry, mom. The work at the reception desk isn't affecting my studies. I know you need help more than anybody in this town. If anything, I can work longer to pick up some of the slack."
Elizabeth, gently placing napkins upon the table, insists with a firm but gentle voice, "I don't want you worrying about that. Study and rest should be your highest priorities right now. Once you're in college, you'll become quite busy. Big cities don't give much time to rest."
Anne nods thoughtfully. "I know. You and Cathy keep telling me that." She pauses, turning towards her mother with a determined expression. "But I can't rest while seeing you drowning in work. Until Grandma is back on her feet, I want to be able to pull her weight at least. Please, give me more work. Plus, sis told me that sorting paperwork can come in handy in college."
Elizabeth hesitates, weighing Anne's words carefully, her expression a mix of emotions as she considers her daughter's plea. Eventually, she gives in, her voice firm but resigned. "Okay... I'll delegate some extra work to you tomorrow." As Anne nods, satisfied with her mother's answer, Elizabeth quickly changes the subject, as if desperate to escape the pressure of her daughter's words.
"How is Cathy doing? Did you talk long with her on the phone?" Anne's expression turns thoughtful as she finishes setting up the table. "We didn't talk long, but she's doing well. She sounded so excited about seeing us in August. Sis is practically counting the days." Felicity chimes in as she carries a steaming pot into the room. "Time sure flies by. Wish I could join you and see Cathy myself, if it weren't for my health."
Felicity carefully places the steaming pot on the table, filling the air with the savory aroma of stew as she pours it into each bowl. The three settle themselves at one end of the large dining table, its empty chairs a poignant reminder of a family once much livelier than today.
Elizabeth's eyes sparkle with excitement as she leans forward slightly. "What did you think of the Storyteller, Anne?" Felicity's gaze lights up, her face radiant with memories of their encounter. "You should have seen her when they first met," she says enthusiastically. "She couldn't stop staring at his eyes."
Anne's cheeks flush with embarrassment as she tries to downplay the moment. "Grandma! Don't give mom the wrong impression," she protests, her voice tinged with playful reproof. Elizabeth chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with delight.
As Anne attempts to compose herself, her voice takes on a more subdued tone. "He was alright. I didn't get to talk with him for long because of the call with sis, but he certainly knows how to speak. And his storytelling—captivating! I can see why both of you hold such fond memories of Storytellers. "
Elizabeth and Felicity exchange happy glances, their faces aglow with the memory of the Storyteller's performance. As they enjoy their dinner, Anne can't help but feel a little awkward amidst their shared delight. Despite this, she smiles inwardly, touched by their happiness at her enjoyment of the evening.
As Elizabeth finishes her meal, she shifts her attention to the evening ahead, her expression turning serious. "I'll be working all night tonight," she announces, her voice firm and resolute.
Felicity's eyes narrow slightly as she sets down her spoon. "Did something happen?" she asks, her tone laced with concern. Elizabeth's face grows grave as she responds. "Four delinquents have gone missing, and today we learned that it might be more serious than we thought."
Anne, scoffs dismissively. "It's probably just another one of their pranks." Elizabeth sighs, her eyes heavy with worry. "I sure hope it's just that. I would never want to be the bearer of bad news to their parents. Once was enough." Felicity nods in understanding.
Anne's eyes flash with defiance. "You're just playing into their hands again. How many times has your work been halted because of their mess? They are dragging this town down with them." Her voice is laced with disdain. "We should let them to their devices. If they're in trouble, they most likely deserve it. Nothing good will come of trying to help them."
Elizabeth's hand reaches out and gently places itself on Anne's, her touch a calming balm to the rising tension. "Sweetheart," she says softly, "if you'd ever gone missing, I would have spared no effort to find you and hoped that others do the same. It's our duty as adults to protect this town's children, even the rebellious ones. Every single delinquent has loving parents who are currently unable to participate in their lives. I know it is weighing hard on them, since I have experienced the same before."
Elizabeth's gentle words land like a soothing balm on Anne's troubled soul, momentarily softening her visage. But the skepticism soon resurfaces as Anne sighs. "And then you say that you don't need my help with work..." she counters with a pouting face. Elizabeth's expression remains serene.
Felicity, sensing an opportunity to shift the conversation, asks a gentle question that allows Elizabeth to refocus on the task at hand. "Where will you be patrolling tonight?" she inquires, her tone warm and inviting. Elizabeth replies with a determined nod. "The Woodsmith homes. Hugo will keep an eye on the warehouses." Felicity smiles warmly at her daughter's dedication. "I'll prepare something for you to snack on while out there," she offers.
As the evening winds down, Elizabeth wraps up her chores by helping with the dishes, while Anne retreats to her room to immerse herself in studies. Later, as the mayor finishes cleaning the dining room, she heads upstairs to check on her daughter. She knocks gently on the door, and after a moment, Anne invites her in.
Elizabeth steps inside to find her daughter engrossed in a textbook, her eyes fixed on the page. "You looked quite upset when we talked about my night patrol tonight," Elizabeth says, sitting down beside Anne. Her voice is soft and gentle, filled with concern. "Is there something weighing on your mind?"
Anne looks up from her book but doesn't meet her mother's gaze. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts before speaking, her voice laced with frustration. "I'm probably just tired... You know I never liked those who waste their time fooling around." Her tone is a mix of annoyance and disappointment.
Elizabeth gently replies, her expression understanding. "But you seemed to be a bit more irritated than usual." Anne faces her mother as her frustration grows. "Because they should know better. Especially while their parents are away. But instead, they do worse. I can't believe how little they care."
Elizabeth's eyes fill with a deep affection for her daughter, and she leans in to offer some reassurance. "Not all kids are as mature as you at this age, Anne. You should be proud of how ahead of them you are," she says, her voice warm and comforting. "They will eventually get over their delinquency. Nobody stays that way forever. Even your father got over his rebellious phase after he turned 20."
Anne responds almost dismissively, her tone a mix of skepticism and resignation. "Yea, yea. You and dad told me this many times over." Elizabeth smiles, sensing her daughter's frustration. She gently pets her daughter's head, her touch a soothing balm for her daughter's worries. "I'm really grateful for you worrying about me, Anne. Just don't let it bother you too much. You still have so much ahead of you," Elizabeth's voice is filled with love and pride. Anne nods, and the two share a tender hug. As they part ways, Anne offers one final wish. "Good luck out there," she says, watching as her mother leaves the room.
As Elizabeth heads back downstairs, she joins Felicity in the kitchen, where a warm pot of tea is brewing. The aroma fills the air as they sit down together. Felicity looks at Elizabeth with concern. "How is Anne?"
Elizabeth takes a sip of her tea before responding. "Probably just tired... Sometimes I can't believe how much she resembles me when I was her age," she says, a hint of nostalgia in her tone. Felicity smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "She does have the same heart for this town as you do. What I can't believe is how you married that mess of a guy," she says playfully, referring to Elizabeth's husband. The mayor chuckles at the mention, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.
Felicity leans in, her expression turning serious. "Maybe all the work is affecting her after all. It pains me that we can't give her more time to enjoy her childhood. If only I could work again," she says wistfully. Elizabeth shakes her head gently. "You have your own health to worry about. You seem to be getting better. Seeing you outside today is a good sign." Felicity nods, a small smile on her face. "Yes... although, I might have overestimated myself. I think I lost my trail of thought a few times when talking with Lleuad. He was kind though and didn't seem to be bothered by it. He helped me get home afterward," she says, her voice filled with gratitude. Elizabeth's expression turns thoughtful as she considers the situation. "I see. It's reassuring having him around..."
As they chat, the mayor glances at the clock on the wall. She finishes her tea and stands up, her movements deliberate. "Well, I should get going," she says. Felicity looks up at her, a hint of worry in her eyes. "Make sure you don't overwork yourself also." Elizabeth smiles reassuringly. "Thank you. I will be fine."
Under the silvery glow of a full moon, Elizabeth wanders along the cobblestone paths of Woodsmith Street, its quaint charm illuminated by gentle lunar light. She pauses occasionally to survey the scene, her eyes scanning for any signs of trouble.
As she turns a corner, the mayor spots a group of delinquents hanging out inside one of the homes Edmund pointed out on the map. Her expression turns stern as she approaches them. "Time to head home," she says firmly. The group reluctantly disperses, disappearing into the night as Elizabeth continues her rounds.
The hours tick by, and Elizabeth finds herself lost in thought as she walks under the moonlight. Her patrol takes her to various parts of the neighborhood, but nothing out of the ordinary catches her attention.
Just before midnight, a figure bursts down the cobblestone street, stopping abruptly in front of Elizabeth. "Ms. Granger," the person gasps as she tries to catch her breath, "Officer Bleier needs you back at the station. I'll replace you for the night."
Elizabeth's eyes narrow slightly, recognizing the person; her voice calm yet edged with concern. "Louise. Did something happen?" Louise shakes her head. "He didn't tell me, but... he did detain the Storyteller!"
The mention of the Storyteller sends Elizabeth's thoughts into a whirlwind of confusion, but she quickly reins in her mental turmoil, recognizing the best course of action. Without another thought, she nods to Louise with gratitude and sets off towards the police station, her footsteps quickening with an urgency born of instinct rather than rational deliberation. The night feels heavier now, its tranquility disturbed by unseen whispers of unfolding events just beyond the reach of moonlight.