It wasn't long before all of Europe was gossiping about the news. The noble Swan family of Manches was in need of help and any adventurer who had dealt with the legendary power of the power stones was wanted. And, of coarse, there was a rather large award.
Julia was only able to cancel Jack's hanging. He wasn't allowed out until the hired help arrived. As you are probably quite aware, the people of Manches weren't just ready yet to have Jack the Slayer crawling through the streets again. Julia ended up visiting Jack as often as she could spare, and every time Jack was as deranged as the last.
As for the adventurers, well, they showed up all right. By the bushels. Any man and woman who could do as much as wield a pitchfork came knocking at the House of Swan. However, most turned down instantly when they heard they would work with the infamous Jack. But those he did manage to swallow that were turned down when asked for proof of a voyage with the power stone. Julia was becoming desperate.
One autumn's day, when the leaves outside were turning red and gold and falling from the tree limb's branches, Julia found herself in a desolate state. She couldn't keep paying the Dungeon keepers to keep Jack alive, and Other Jack had struck several more times. Each fatality was a maiden, and each had been killed by a swipe through the neck.
Julia, in a much better state than the day we met her, sighed as she leaned on her elbow. She sat in her large red and white dress. Her hat and parasol were absent, she was inside after all. She sat in a large chair at the end of an enormous table. She was the only member of her family left in Manches. Most of her family had moved to Paris several years ago. The great hall she sat in was as wide and tall as any banquet hall in any king's castle. The walls were a heavenly white, and the floors a reflective mahogany. Julia's big blue eyes were lost in thought. There had to be some way of attracting an actual power stone adventurer.
In walked a short, stout fat French cook. He had enormously large buckteeth and thick black hair. His bright blue and white polka dotted shirt and white apron reflected a man of simple tastes, but not when it comes to food.
"Madam! Your roast hen is completed! Come! You must join in this feast fit for a queen!" The chef brought in a silver platter on which sat a cooked bird as fat and juicy as any game fowl ever cooked.
"Not now Gourmand. I am not hungry…" Julia sighed.
"But madam! It is suppertime and I have prepared for you the finest roasted game fowl in the history of cooking! Come you must eat!" Gourmand placed the platter in front Julia.
"I said I wasn't hungry." Julia said with anger. Gourmand brought his wooden spoon to his face in defense.
He then lowered it after Julia went back to being in a miserable mood. "What is the matter Ms. Swan? Is there something troubling you?"
"Nothing of your concern Gourmand." Julia stated sternly.
"Come now! You can tell old Gourmand anything. I hate to see such a pretty face in such bad misery eh." Gourmand waved his spoon around.
Julia faced the cook. His large red eyes were so friendly. She smiled, the first time in weeks. "Gourmand, your always such a friend…"
"Of coarse madam. I've always loved the Swan family like my own. Now tell old Gourmand your worries." Gourmand smiled.
"…It is this whole criminal investigation. I have absolutely no support from anyone! I can't seem to locate any actual adventurers, and these killings continue across Manches! I-I can't even go outside anymore for the shame brought upon me!" Julia shared.
Gourmand sat down in a fine wooden chair. He tapped his large wooden spoon against the table in thought. "I believe you Ms. Julia. And you just have to believe in yourself! And I think I know how to solve your problems!"
Julia looked up from the table with a look of surprise upon her face. She lowered an eyebrow as she asked. "How?"
"Mr. Falcon of coarse! That family has been nothing but adventuring for ages! He's the most famous adventurer in all of Britain, I'd think he'd know about the power stone…" Gourmand twisted his thick moustache.
"Of coarse… Leave it to fate to choose Falcon as the only man on Earth available…" Julia sighed.
"I detect a bit of hostility no? Is there something wrong with the Falcon family?"
"There is nothing wrong with the Falcon family. There's just something wrong with Falcon. That man is the most rustic, coarse, lumpish, ungraceful, loutish, disorderly, boorish, uncultured, indecorous, slovenly, ribald member of any family on this planet. I've known Americans more mannerly than that buffoon!"
"I thought you always liked Mr. Falcon. You were even courted by the man!"
"That was a long time ago…" Julia sighed.
Gourmand tapped his large spoon against the banquet table once more in thought. "Well my lady, it really doesn't sound like you have much of a choice."
"I know… the heavens can be so cruel…"
"Trust me madam. It will all work out."
"I hope so Gourmand. I hope so…"
** *
It wasn't very long after that the Falcon manner had received a letter. The Falcon manner was located within the shining capitol of the British Empire, Londo. The city was absolutely fantastic. Large paved streets and sidewalks where the finest of civilized society promenaded. The skies were not as soiled as one would think. Londo was the capitol of the industrialized world, but their towers of ungainly smoke were hidden deep within the slums and destroyed sections of the city. Well, we shall not go there. The Falcon family estate was a large house, not nearly the size of the Swan's mind you, but larger than any common folk's humble abode. A little iron fence ran its way around the house, guarding it from the pavement and street before. Several people walked in front of the house every day in order to proceed to the tailor, the shoemaker, or the accountant.
The manor itself was empty, save two. The only people that actually lived there were Falcon, his father the famous Pride Falcon, and the butler. And as it turned out on this fateful autumn day, Falcon senior was out. He had been out for several months now on some grand voyage across the sea in the tropical forests of South America. Thus left only two souls to inhabit the great house. Well, you can figure out who's there.
Falcon was not his actual name, this adventurer. However, no one seemed to actually know his true name, and so he went by Falcon. Today, on this bright morning, he smiled as he dressed himself in the usual red aviators suit. He hummed happily as he placed his goggles on his forehead. And he was overall merry as he put on his dark tanned gloves and boots.
The butler could only smile as the playful adult danced around the bedroom. Falcon spun the coat rack in a waltz while he hummed a most ridiculous tune out loud. His blue eyes sparkled with merriment indeed.
"Ahem. Master Falcon, it is time to break fast. Your meal is on the table downstairs." The thin butler dressed in black said.
"Graves! I've the merriest of news! Julia wishes to see me again!" Falcon laughed. In his hand he showcased the fancy envelope to the butler.
Graves nodded. "Julia was that French girl?…"
"Oh yes! The blondest of hair, the bluest of eyes! You could gaze into those bright blue pools of beauty all day… Her elegant figure, her pure skin, and her enchanting voice. We were crazy lovers whom did everything under the sun and still managed to do more! She and I were meant for each other!" Falcon explained excitedly.
"So then what happened between the two of you?" Graves protruded.
"…I don't know Graves. I just know that I ended it upon good terms. She wanted to stay in Manches and I, well you know. The adventuring spirit of the Falcon flows through this family's veins! She couldn't understand that…But all that doesn't matter now. She wishes to see me again!"
Graves quickly snatched the letter away from the giddy man. His large white eyebrows furrowed intently as he examined the letter.
"This sounds of the most utmost importance! She requests that you leave immediately!"
"I know Graves. I've read that wonderful letter a hundred times and I've only had it for an hour. Come help me pack my bags! We've got to get to the Hockenheim before midday!"
"Master Falcon, I do not think she met that early. Do at least have your breakfast first!"
"No time Graves! Got to rush to the airfield!"
Falcon grabbed the last suitcase and stuffed it with whatever clothing remained in his room. He grinned at the old butler as he placed it over his shoulder. Graves frowned and sighed. He gently placed the envelope back into Falcons hand.
"…I presume I'll be watching the house while your at leave?" Grave inquired.
"Of coarse Graves! I must run! See you later! YIPEE!" Falcon ran out the door with his suitcases in hand. He nearly killed himself going down the stairs and almost knocked the front door clean off its' hinges. Out in the street, he leaped up and clicked his heels in air. Graves had never seen the blonde pilot so happy.
As Falcon raced down the street singing a ballad to his one love Julia, children chased him, skipping and laughing to the merry man's beat. People passed him in the street and waved good day. Falcon even tossed gold coins into the local beggars hat. He had defiantly an air around him of cheeriness.
** *
Julia paced in circles, thinking about what she had done. The golden and crimson leaves were still clinging to the neighboring trees. The sky was a cold blue. Not a cloud was in the sky. The great Swan mansion was eagerly awaiting visitors. Time had passed since the letter was sent, and the autumn months were coming to a close. November had just begun and a bitter frost struck the city with an iron fist. Every blade of grass outside the good woman's window had a blanket of crystals completely encasing it. The mallards were about to fly south for the winter, but still found the ponds free of ice. The good people wore about them scarves of fur and coats of down to protect their elegant bodies from the cold. When I say elegant, I mean the upper class, the noble people of Manches. In truth, many of the denizens of this fair town wore nothing but rags and old used blankets to keep themselves warm this kind of year. Nor did they have a bite to eat. But they were content so far with the fact that their heads had not been sliced clean off their necks and face a Christmas tree without a head to place their reserved Christmas bonnets on.
Julia was too busy to think of the poor or Christmas time. As I stated before, the affectionate young lady was pacing in circles, dragging her long, white dress behind her. The butler was going mad while the janitorial staff sobbed. Her fine, expensive Italian shoes were wearing themselves thin along with the floor. Today had to go just right. Julia kept thinking to herself that very equation. For some reason, despite her inward despising of Falcon, she felt that nothing could go wrong. The town, Jack, and her reputation were on the line. She softly bit her pink lip in anticipation. What if something were to go wrong? What if he doesn't take the job? Many undesirable thoughts ran through her head like a horseless carriage on a long empty street.
As if on cue, the great chimes in the house bellowed all at once. DONG DONG DONG DONG. Some one was at the door. Poor Julia's heart skipped a beat as she leaped in the air. She was already halfway across the banquet hall before she realized what she was doing. She instantly stopped herself and awaited the butler to answer. She begged the butler to hurry it up, pick up the pace, and liven his step. Nose ever high, the French butler did nothing of the sort, but walked in a much more dignified manner than the frustrated Ms. Swan towards the giant doors. She marked his steps in her head. One two three. One two three. One two three. Damnit man, answer that door! She wanted to scream, but did nothing more than sit herself in the nearest Russian chair and dig her nails in to the imported lining. Finally, after what seemed like years of agonizing torture, the butler reached the door. He adjusted his purple jacket and pulled each finger on his white gloves till each finger sat snuggly inside. Only then did he answer the door.
Falcon stood questionably in front of the door. Being not of the more sophisticated specie himself, Falcon constantly shifted his weight from one foot to another as he waited for the butler to do something.
"Ah…Mr. Falcon is it? The lady of the house awaits your arrival." The butler said in a nasal voice.
"Yes, Julia. I received her letter and I came here because, well you know, she invited … me …back…here. Um, yea…" Falcon rubbed his neck.
The butler raised an eyebrow. "Like I said, Ms. Swan is expecting you. Do come in."
"Right. That's what I was about to do. Couldn't trick you old buddy." Falcon winked at the butler as he stepped inside the Swan estate. The entry was a grand hallway, made of several high arcs that domed the ceiling. Falcon had seen the house before, but couldn't stop himself from marveling at the size of it all once more.
Julia saw Falcon in his red aviators suit, bumbling around in the entry like a confused commoner coming to see the king. She sighed as she was reminded that she was dealing with Falcon, the most common of nobles. She put on a smile and walked in to the entry.
"Ah, Mr. Falcon, I trust your trip to my humble manor was a safe one?" Julia addressed the man.
Falcon looked to the woman who was addressing him. He became lost in her luscious blue eyes. Seeing her again was like stepping to the golden gates of heaven and not having the precocious arrangements of meeting an untimely demise first. Upon noticing a puzzled look appear on her brow, his tongue stumbled upon the words to say.
"Uh Hey Julia, err…Ms. Swan. So nice it is again to see you! You look as beautiful as ever, if not even more than the last time we met." Falcon kneeled down before Julia to kiss her extended hand.
With a silent quick look of disgust, she promptly retracted her arm before an awkward moment ensued. Unfortunately, the speed of it all managed to bring about an awkward moment as well. Darting her blue eyes back and forth, just to think of a way to present the topic, she hesitated.
"…Oh what do I owe this visit to, Julia?"" Falcon slurred.
Julia smiled. Falcon was turning as red as his coat, leaving his blue eyes alone in a red world. She could tell that he was feeling as odd about this meeting as she. Yet he perceived it from another angle.
"Falcon you must be exhausted after your… how did you arrive, if I may ask?" Julia shrugged.
"I arrived by the masterful Hockenheim! The great red eagle of the sky that sweeps me from land to land!" Falcon said enthusiastically.
"Yes…that "air plane"." She fumbled the words airplane. It was still new and not many people had ever seen the flying contraption. The times were of the early 1890's, and the laughable mockery of a wooden bird was only true in few forms. They say that only Britain and the United States were able to afford such wonderful machines. But the rest of the world was content with coal powered iron ships and railway cars. "Anyway, as I was saying, you must be exhausted by your flight. Do give me the honor of freshening up a bit. My staff would be happy to oblige! Afterwards we can talk during a tuck of dinner."
Without thought, Falcon raised his arm to see if he really did smell. "I am a bit tired after the trip over the English channel. But I wish to catch up with you a bit!" Falcon pleaded.
"We shall have plenty of time over dinner!" Julia pretended to smile. She clapped her hands together and looked towards her janitorial staff. "Come on now, we have a guest to clean!"
With many a "Yes ma'am!" the staff managed to drag the Brit up the marble flight of stairs and away to the many bathing rooms.
Julia frowned. Falcon was here and he hadn't changed one bit…
