Forward
Hey there everyone, Jack again. Just wanted to say that its great to see that some people are reading this story (all 9 of you). I know this chapter is late, but its here now. Better late than never eh? Also, I hope that you guys can spread the news about this story. The more readers that I see reading, the more I'm going to be enthused to make another chapter. I would also like to hear your comments and reviews about the story. Do you like it? What do you think would be a good idea for the upcoming chapters? I love to hear feedback guys, so please please PLEASE, leave me a review! But beside that, here's chapter two. I hope the 9 of you that read this again are excited about this.
Chapter 2
Coming to an Understanding
A bump woke Sparrow up from his long sleep in the carriage. This was the only time he had some form of rest from his schedule of personal experimentation. Now that he was going to Bowerstone to investigate someone's death, he figured it would be a rare occasion for sleep to occur. Rooter simply looked miserable being cooped up in the bouncing carriage as he sat next to Sparrow, his head laying on Sparrow's leg. Sparrow petted Rooter's fur as they passed under the bridge to the gypsy caravan, now gone to explore other places and cultures. It saddened him to know that the people he once called friends and his family were gone, leaving him alone to his own devises.
"Sorry the ride woke you sir, but we're almost there," said Thomas as they passed by the straight road to Bowerstone. From there on out, it would be a smooth ride. Sparrow looked out the window, watching the countryside rush by. Thomas simply sat, looking at Sparrow, almost in a sort of friendly jealousy of how the man sitting in front of him was a hero, while he was still making ends meet and getting people to respect him. Ever since he was a child, Thomas had always wanted to be a hero; like Thunder, Maze, and most of all the Jack-slayer. That was the main reason why he became a police officer, to help people and save lives. However, since he became sheriff, he didn't get to see as much action, but still made rounds like his deputies. More likely, Brightwood had been made safe for long enough because of Sparrow living there. But regardless, he had yet to have his face in the spotlight since then. Did he hate it? No. It gave him an easy job with very little responsibilities, but to make basic rounds to make sure bandits weren't terrorizing anyone. But he saw Sparrow as his rival.
"You look deep in thought," said Sparrow, seeing Thomas staring.
"Hm? Oh no, not really. Just thinking about what I'm going to do when we get to Bowerstone. Your going to be looking at a body and I'll probably just get in the way."
"On the contrary, my dear Thomas. I need someone to help me in this venture. Someone I can trust."
Thomas looked over at Sparrow with shock in his eyes.
"I need an answer Tho-"
"Yes! Yes, I'll be more than happy to help you," he said while jumping to his feet. But once his feet hit the floorboards, his head smacked into the roof of the carriage. Thomas then rubbed the top of his head and crouched down, slowly finding his seat again. Sparrow didn't even try hiding back a smile after seeing his friend in minor pain due to stupidity.
Sparrow looked out the window for the rest of the trip, watching the countryside slowly evolve into the cityscape he knew as Bowerstone.
By the time Sparrow and Thomas had gotten into the town, there was little time to stand around and let the crowd recognize the celebrity that had come into their midst. Rather, Thomas took Sparrow directly to the scene of the murder. As they wondered past the socially decaying district that was called Old Town towards the graveyard, Sparrow looked around at what used to be his home and how he grew because of it. But there was also a sense of guilt for being a factor that caused its current demise. However, he could have blamed it on Derek's poor management or ability to keep arrest warrants in his hands. Regardless, Old Town was very much apart of Bowerstone, no matter how dark and dangerous the district was.
As they reached the cemetery, Sparrow looked around, noticing how there weren't many people mourning. In fact, there were more law officers than there should have been.
"Quite a lot of officers, don't you think Thomas," asked Sparrow.
"Well, this was an unusual murder, sir."
"Yes, I can agree with that. Very rarely do you see a murdered man in the presence of peaceful deceased."
They continued towards the steps of the caretaker's steps. Oddly enough the caretaker had yet to make a fuss about the law enforcement presence.
"Guess the caretaker is digging this bloke's grave," said Thomas as he walked with Sparrow. Sparrow nodded at this. They continued their way to the scene, Rooter close to Sparrow's side.
Once they reached the steps, Sparrow looked around at the scene. "Hey you, Officer," yelled Sparrow to one of the deputies.
The officer looked over at him, "Yes?"
"What's your name?"
"Alex."
"Alex, Where was the victim found when you arrived here?"
"He was sprawled on the stairs, over here."
"Face up or down?"
"Face up sir."
Sparrow looked at the steps, pulled a magnifying glass from the bag he carried, and then started looking through the magnifying glass at the steps. He occasionally said, "Hmm," or let out an "Ah," every now and again. After 5 minutes of inspecting the stoop, he looked to Alex and said, "Did anyone clean this area since the murder?"
"No sir."
"Did it ever rain?"
"No rain for at least two weeks now."
Sparrow then looked back at the steps and simply kneeled over stoop, puzzling over what he was seeing.
"Are you sure it hasn't rained yet, Alex?"
Alex simply looked at Sparrow and said, "I'm positive sir. So, pardon my rude tone, but I would know if had or hadn't rained since yesterday."
Sparrow looked at Alex, then back at the stoop. Thomas looked at Sparrow. "Why does it matter if it had rained since yesterday sir," asked Thomas.
Sparrow continued to inspect the stoop, then stood up slowly and looked to Alex. "I at least hope you hadn't disposed the corpse yet," said Sparrow to the officers, more toward Alex.
Alex glared at Sparrow and growled, "Yes sire, we do have the body in our custody."
"Well then, what are we waiting for? Take me to the deceased bloke."
Alex then leered for a second, then turned to one of the other officers. "Hey you! You heard him, get moving to the Barracks."
Two of the officers stumbled as they were called; from the looks of it they were new to the service. Sparrow smiled and Thomas simply chuckled, remembering his time as the new guy when after he graduated from the police academy and his placement in Bowerstone, before he was moved to Brightwood to help protect Farmer Giles's new farming business after he retired from law enforcement. The new officers simply turned quickly and started to jog off, leaving Sparrow, Thomas and Rooter well behind who took their time walking behind.
"So, what are you thinking Sparrow?"
"I'm not sure right now. It can be possible, but I can't say anything till I'm sure of it."
The body was stored in an underground laboratory, which was more like a dungeon. Many candles and an overhead opening to the outside, which was blocked off by iron bars, illuminated it. It was composed of many cut stones that formed the walls, and stairs, with a thick wooden door about ten feet high with stone cut steps leading down to the side of the room. This was definitely a prison used by the older generation of police officers to deal with some of the worst criminals in the history of Bowerstone.
Sparrow lifted the cloth that hid the dead man on the wooden table in the middle of laboratory in the Police Barracks inside the wall of Bowerstone, right in front of the Market District. Thomas wretched back at the smell, but Sparrow had been accustomed to the smell in his travels, it hardly affected him. Sparrow scanned the body with his eyes quickly then looked at the victim's chest and stomach, quickly spotting the punctures from the seven blades that had ended his life. Sparrow took his magnifying glass and surveyed the wounds through it. He kept running his magnifying glass over the area till something caught his attention and he looked back at the spot; first his eyes squinted, then widened.
"Thomas, in my bag there is a pair of small tongs. Get them for me, if you'd please," said Sparrow.
Thomas quickly went for the bag and searched thoroughly for the tongs. After spending a small amount of time searching the bag, he found tongs and handed them to Sparrow, who took them in his left hand and started to inspect one of the stab wounds with the magnifying glass, which was in his right. He poked and prodded the wound, then lifted the wound and looked inside the wound. He put the magnifying glass down and then looked to Thomas.
"Well, what was so interesting about this," asked Thomas.
"This death was very unusual to begin with, I must say," responded Sparrow starting to pace next to the table. "It was unusual just by hearing how the bloke died. Seven stab wounds to the chest and stomach is a very fascinating way to die. Very much of an overkill wouldn't you agree? But, the odd part about this death was that there was no residue of blood from his wounds that spilled out on the stoop. Normally, after having many punctures the body would make quiet a mess on the steps with droplets to show up in the surrounding area. However, at the scene, this was not the case. Blood loss was minimal, which led me to believe that Bowerstone had had a shower to wash the blood away. But, since Alex had informed me that Bowerstone hadn't gotten any rain in the past few days, weather couldn't have been an issue.
"So, I had to come to a small amount of conclusions, which only puzzled me more. But, upon observation of the body of… what is his name?"
One of the deputies picked up a small leaflet and read, "Jonathon Alderton, mid to late 30's, lived in Bowerstone Old Town since he was born and never really left sir."
"Thank you sir," said Sparrow slightly bowing at the deputy's assistance. "After examining Mr. Alderton's body, I found that most of the veins and arteries had been burned shut with some of the muscle and skin singed, thus causing the minimal bleeding."
"Astute observation sir," said Thomas. "But what could have caused an artery like that to singe?"
"From what I could think about, this could have been caused by seven blades that were heated to a red hot state and rammed in-"
"But that makes no sense sir," stated Thomas. "So, you're saying four to seven killers teamed up against a single thug, with burning swords-"
"Of course not Thomas," interrupted Sparrow. "Burning blades are very fragile, and will leave a residue of iron inside the wound. Also, if you hadn't noticed, the blade paths crisscross at certain points. This would be impossible if the swords used to kill Jonathon, with the exception to one type of sword."
Thomas looked at Sparrow with a questioning look, and then his eyes opened wide. He understood. "An ethereal sword."
"Exactly Thomas. This death can be attributed to the power of Will; magic."
"So our murderer is a Will user?"
"Yes Thomas, we are on the hunt for a magician," said Sparrow. "You two, I want you to spread the word to all officers at the scene to search with caution. The murderer is highly dangerous and should be approached with the utmost caution."