The monotonous scribbling sounds reverberated in a room.
The obsidian and antique-looking fountain pen dancing eloquently across the white sheet of paper, before it paused for a moment.
A delicate white hand with a silver-double headed eagle ring in its thumb reached out for the inkstone, before briefly dipping it inside, tapping it once on the rim, and placed it back on the paper.
However, the fountain pen moved in invisible scratches this time, causing the woman to pause.
She stared at it for a moment, before calmly placing it next to her, and reached out for a silver ballpoint pen instead.
However, just as she was about to write her next line, an abrupt knock rattled on the door, causing her hands to pause midair just as she was about to write. Her expressionless pale eyes that seemed to be so light blue that they approached blind white interlocked on the door for a moment, before she ignored it, and continued writing.
"Come in"
A feminine voice came from between her two lips, the voice neutral, devoid of any color or expression. Had a third person been in the room, he no doubt would have thought that her eyes were blind from how milky they were.
The sound of the metallic knob turning echoed in the silent room, before the door was pushed open, revealing a 7 feet tall figure that walked in casually.
The man first took off his homburg hat, which revealed the unblemished face of a man no older than thirty, his beard and mustache trimmed neatly and perfectly. His brows turned into a frown of disapproval.
"You won't believe how busy the streets are amidst this damned blizzard."
The man said with a sigh. The man placed his coat on the coat rack, as he wiped his shoes on the carpet, and took out a pipe. He pulled a chair over in front of the woman's desk, and crossed his legs casually, shaking them.
He channeled a hint of Llana into his thumb, where a brief spiral marked his pipe, before it lit, as he exhaled the smoke into the air.
"It took my carriage a good fifty minutes with a peasant driver to arrive here in the cold and frost, and here you ignore me?"
The man shook his head as if mimicking a saddened child. "How sad for me, indeed, how sad. To be ignored by such a beautiful woman as such, I feel devalued like I am no more than a pebble on a road that was ste-"
"Did you desert your position?"
The woman, who had been patiently writing down with the unfamiliar ballpoint pen, began twirling it between her fingers, before placing it down on the table.
"Desert? Quite strong of a word to use, don't you think?"
She leaned back, as she studied the man before her. Her expressionless face bored into the man's calm eyes, as if searching for his true purpose of honoring his presence in this particular room.
"Your paycheck should be the least of your worries, Mr. Bernett." Her interlocked eyes shifted to the pipe in his hands, as she intertwined her fingers.
"And most importantly, I don't recall leaving this room at your own convenience, now did I? You do recall the punishment for deserters is crucifixion, no?""
"Ms. L'Etoil-"
"Oh, no, no, don't give me this Ms. L'Etoile nonsense" The woman snapped her fingers in irritation, as if she couldn't bear the mention of Ms. Before her name. She raised her eyebrows and stared back at Bernett's face.
"You haven't answered me. Why are you here?"
Bernett didn't answer, but merely leaned back as he continued smoking his pipe, the heavy smell of vanillin and burnt wood wafting around the room. Bernett stared back at L'Etoile with an expression that was completely different from the one that he had when he entered the room. His playfulness had fully evaporated.
"Why am I here?" He echoed right after her. He leaned forward, his eyes wide open.
"Logic has left her position. She is back here without any official orders from the higher ups." The man tapped his fingers on the table twice, as if emphasizing the importance of this detail.
"Brought back some dirty miscreature from the borders, under some pretext like 'investigating evidence for the current waging war between the Empire and the UGP'"
"And if it was at that, we perhaps would have reported it to the higher ups as you would think, but no."
Bernett opened the bag that he had brought with him, placing it on his lap, and flung a heavy stack of papers on the table, causing L'Etoile to direct her gaze to the bleached paper. Silently, she took a sheet, and started scanning it with her gaze, until she reached the end of the page. Wordlessly, she re-read the paper over and over again, before throwing it back on the table.
".... Is what is written here authentic?"
Bernett didn't answer her question but instead merely leaned back, staring at the ceiling, and smoked his pipe.
"Hahaha!"
Upon seeing this, L'Etoile let out an absurd small laugh for the first time. Bernett wordlessly watched her as she leaned back, fiddling with a bowie knife on the table.
"No wonder the investigators didn't inform me of Logic's actions. They would be too busy fighting over their support for the upcoming Royal selection"
She tilted her head as a frown formed on her expressions, as if she couldn't understand something. "So why, oh Pray tell, weren't we reported about this?
The woman's eyes grew more expressionless as she mused over it. Her gaze scanned the room, before falling on the figure sitting before her, wordless as the smoke emanating from his hot pipe.
"It seems we have a Rat that held back this information from us, don't you agree, Bernett?"
The woman let out a chuckle.
"Pack up Bernett, the Emperor is dead"
---------------------------------------
L'Etoile sat at the table tapping her fingers in rhythmic order at the table, as she stared into empty space.
Silently, she took out her handgun, and placed it on the table.
"Bernett"
Bernett didn't answer her, but merely directed his gaze that was looking at the ceiling back to her, questiongly.
"Logic went to the borders for a reason, or rather, it is most probably due to this news that she somehow found out about" She went on dragging her words. "I fail to understand however why she did not inform us. Still, it matters not to us. We need to leave soon. Time is not on our side."
Bernett uncrossed his legs with a tired sigh as he stood up and tapped his pipe on a nearby tray to prepare to leave.
"Its about time for another World War."
He wore his coat and put on his cap without a word.
"What am I to do, L'Etoile?" He answered as he confirmed the placement of his firearms, and turned to her. "Am I to bring Logic here?"
L'Etoile looked at him thoughtfully.
"And bring along the 'thing' she found. Better yet, intercept them, and meet me at the outskirts of Jimson Town. We will be heading towards the Capital of the Empire, Lexehenburg to participate in the upcoming Royal Purge."
"Soon enough the smaller towns will be swallowed by foreign forces of the UPG. Pray God that this doesn't turn the Capital into a Second Civil War. If there is one thing we could learn from King Markus the Architects Great Purge. No doubt will blood run in rivers, and meat in tons"
"Some interesting news had reached me a while ago on them raising for years some 'Elaborates' of the Euclidian Mana class, currently at Mystery Rank. A continential disaster."
She extended her hand towards the door's direction as if escorting him out.
"So then"
She let out a small smile filled with malice.
"Be on your way"