A/N: It's mystery time. And Rean once again proves hideously difficult to write.
Chapter 13 – Border Crossing
Machias clutched the little handbook with the title 'International Law'. Their class, both instructors and Hibelle walked in solemn silence toward the west wing of the Aulic Council, where the administrative offices were located. Sweat coated his forehead as well as his hands, making his grip on the binding slippery.
He glanced at Hibelle whose complexion was as pale as paper. Machias couldn't fault him. Not only was his friend's superior allegedly arrested by a foreign government but even Dorothee, the other assistant, was stranded at the embassy without any news about her current circumstances.
Their large group arrived at the room opposite of Prosecutor Freising's. The office was richly furnished, the shelves and tables crafted from black wood polished to a mirror-like finish. Machias was far from an expert on these kind of useless luxuries, but he would bet his entire savings in one of Crow's gambling rackets that this room's decor cost more than the entirety of the Regnitz household.
The master of the room was an old man with hair turned completely silver with age. He wore a set of dark blue robes made of expensive material and rich embroidery. When he stood up and walked around his work desk, a short ponytail could be seen. Then there was the beard: long and perfectly trimmed, two streaks reaching down to his waist, formed like the tail of a swallow.
Machias wasn't sure what to think of the person in front of them. He looked like an ancient sage. A fairy tale wizard who stepped out of his fictional world and didn't yet have the time to procure more appropriate attire. There was no mistaking his identity though: Marquis Rodias H. Linquist, head of House Linquist, supreme judge of the Erebonian Empire and chancellor of the Aulic Council.
He was also the main backer of Prosecutor Freising. Machias summoned his willpower to suppress his instinctual dislike of nobility. This man couldn't be too bad.
"Greetings, members of Class VII, honored instructor... young Bracer."
They greeted in return.
"I see several familiar faces, but it's only proper to introduce myself. I'm Marquis Rodias H. Linquist, Council Chancellor. I've already been informed about the events that transpired. It seems that with my right hand... apprehended, the duty of overseeing your field studies falls to me now." He smiled amicably. "When I left for the capital, I didn't expect to return to this kind of pandemonium. But as a common saying goes: no rest for the wicked."
He steepled his hands. "What can I do for you?"
"Do you have any news about Helena?" Instructor Valestein asked.
"I take it from your somber expressions that you're aware of the murder charge, but not much else?"
They nodded.
"Two things then." He sighed. "The victim is a fellow Erebonian. It was in fact someone who escorted Helena to the embassy."
"NO!" Hibelle cried. "Is it Dorothee?"
"We don't know. From what I heard, there were three persons from the Aulic Council accompanying her. As for the second point: the fire broke out in the archives. It has been contained, but according to Ambassador Hylefias more than half of the documents stored within have been irreparably damaged. Apart from these morsels of information the madame ambassador was not forthcoming in shedding further light on the situation. Not that I can fault her."
Instructor Valestein folded her arms. "Is there anything that can be done to get Helena out of this situation?"
The council chancellor started to pace. "Difficult. Usually, when a citizen of the Empire is accused of a crime on foreign soil, the way to proceed is to invoke judicial assistance. There are treaties between Erebonia and Remiferia to facilitate such requests between our courts. Unfortunately, the agreed intermediate between the courts are the embassies. You see the problem?"
Machias pushed up the frame of his glasses. Yeah, he could see the problem alright.
"Are there no alternative channels to put forward a request for judicial assistance?" Hibelle asked.
"There is. Through Prince Albert Bartholomeus. But Remiferia's ruler is a busy man. Going down that route is bound to delay things immensely."
"Great," Instructor Valestein groused. "Waiting for the bloody bureaucracy to get moving is the last thing we need. Chancellor Linquist, you know as well as I do that delaying an investigation will only make everything more difficult down the road. A crime scene needs to be examined when the trail is still fresh."
"I concur, young Bracer. But right now our hands are tied."
Machias stepped forward. "I disagree, your Excellency, instructor. I think there's a way forward in this situation."
Everybody looked at him in surprise. Councillor Linquist stroked his beard. "Cadet Regnitz, right? You're Carl's son. Well, then out with it, young man. How are we to solve this most vexing of conundrum?"
"By letting Instructor Valestein perform the investigation, your Excellency. She is an active bracer, A-rank no less. I've checked the articles in international law to be certain. High level bracers have the authority to intercede in a dispute between two nations as a neutral arbiter."
Laura and Rean nodded. "I've heard something similar," the swordswoman said.
Instructor Valestein sighed. "Sorry, Machias. I don't want to rain on your parade, but things aren't quite as simple. I guess this book on international law you looked up wasn't written by the Bracer Guild?"
"It wasn't, but it's still a respectable publication."
"I'm sure it is," she said airily, "but people unaffiliated with the Guild tend to get the small things wrong. Or what do you legal types call it; the fine print?"
"Hm, and what kind of mistake was recorded in Regnitz's book in this particular case, instructor?" Jusis asked with some schadenfreude.
Pompous ass.
"The main point is that bracers don't have the power to intercede in a dispute between two nations by their own initiative. They need a request by a client of sufficient standing to do so, which is the very foundation of bracer work. Hypothetically, Councillor Linquist could issue such a request to me, but in light of the current situation the Remiferian ambassador might see me as nothing more but a proxy of the Aulic Council to encroach on their nation's sovereignty. It doesn't help that I'm simultaneously affiliated with part of the Erebonian Military."
Machias bit his lip. He wasn't ready to throw the towel just yet. "I've heard about a border dispute two years ago between Liberl and Erebonia. It happened during that mysterious shutdown phenomenon that affected part of the Sutherland Province. According to my source, a B-rank bracer interceded on her own to facilitate talks between the 3rd Armored Division and the Liberlian Royal Army. I'd consider this a legal precedent."
Most of his classmates wore confused expressions, but there were a few who clearly knew what he was talking about. Both the chancellor and Instructor Valestein watched him with unabashed interest. After that, they looked at each other in silent communication.
"After you, young bracer. As your cadet, clarifying the issue is your prerogative."
His heart sank. So he overlooked something again?
"I'm surprised you know about that incident. Then again, considering who your father is..." Instructor Valestein shrugged. "Fact is, what that bracer did back then can't serve as precedent in our current situation. That border dispute happened between Haken and Titus Gate, which is an internationally recognized buffer zone. Or to put it more clearly, it's neutral territory that no nation is allowed to lay claim to. On such neutral ground, bracers are granted authority far exceeding what they're allowed inside the border of a nation."
Machias blinked. He never expected their irreverent instructor to argue the minutiae of law to such a degree. Granted, these were the minutiae of the bracer code, but given her flippant attitude and professed love for everything alcoholic, he couldn't help but wonder at this newfound respect he was developing.
Of course, being on the receiving end of her legal understanding put a little damper on the whole respect thing.
"I understand your frustration, Cadet Regnitz." Instructor Neithardt put a hand on his shoulder. "Your willingness to stand up for madame prosecutor and to struggle for a solution speaks of your character. But we are currently surrounded by the best legal expertise in the Empire. If they can't think of a solution, then I fear this really is an insurmountable barrier. We should instead put our focus on the things we can do."
Was that it? Nobody dared to speak out, but Machias knew that Prosecutor Freising had been framed. Murdering one of her subordinates while inside an embassy? The very notion was ridiculous. She had nothing to gain from such an action, but everything to lose. He thought back to what the prosecutor all but admitted to Emma yesterday. She was investigating the central government. The Reformists.
His dad had worked his way up through diligence and determination, but the one thing he always talked about with Machias was the difficulty of keeping his integrity.
Bribes, little favors, concessions. For the governor of Heimdallr, the temptation was everywhere. And Machias harbored no illusion that lesser men than his dad regularly succumbed to the lure of exploiting their political power. As much as he supported the ideal behind the Reformists, Instructor Herschel had warned him how even the most noble ideals ran the risk of becoming corrupted.
Which only underscored the importance of checks and balances. The importance of an existence like Prosecutor Freising.
His classmates and instructors were already discussing how they were going to proceed with the field study tasks, but the words washed over him like static noise. Machias breathed in deeply. His body felt hot and cold at the same time. The metal frame of his glasses were slick with sweat, sliding on the wetness atop the bridge of his nose.
"Instructor Sara," he cried out. Again, everybody turned their attention to him.
"Are you still going on about this, Regnitz?" His Lordship sneered. "You should know when to give up."
Machias ignored him. "Just to confirm, as long as someone issues a request to you, you could potentially step in as a neutral investigator?"
"Theoretically yes, but..."
He held out his hand. "I understand. The request can't come from anybody affiliated with the Erebonian government, but what if it's issued by a Remiferian citizen?"
The room froze. Seconds later, Chancellor Linquist broke out in laughter. "Excellent! How could I forget our good Doctor Gilfaeth? As a certified coroner, the embassy would need to call for her anyway, considering that there's an autopsy to be done."
"I'll be damned," Instructor Sara murmured. "This could actually work. We shouldn't count our chickens until they're hatched though. She might refuse to issue the request."
Chancellor Linquist was already dialing the phone. "Then let us ask her, shall we?"
It so happened that Doctor Julia don Gilfaeth was perfectly fine with going along with their plan.
Machias had trouble keeping his head from spinning once things got going. Plots were made, procedures hammered out, little speeches prepared. Neithardt didn't even try to protest as Instructor Valestein, the doctor and Chancellor Linquist hashed out a plan of action with Hibelle, himself and his classmates chiming in on occasion. The field study tasks laid forgotten on the side. Now that there was an admittedly flimsy legal angle for the bracer to perform the investigation, it seemed like a dam had been broken.
After the planning session, their class followed Instructor Sara to Saint-Arkh's residential district with Doctor Gilfaeth in tow. The major stayed behind, though he gave them their blessing to everybody's surprise. According to their wayward instructor, they needed to contact the guild network before proceeding. They entered a well kept apartment complex that was unobtrusively nestled between similar residences of middle-class income. A lone man, probably the janitor, was sweeping the hallway.
He greeted the bracer with a friendly wave, but Machias found it strange that he didn't spare their procession of uniformed cadets even a single curious glance. They walked up the stairs to the second floor until they reached the very end of the balustrade. Instructor Sara took out a key and unlocked the door to the flat.
"I'll say it again kids: keep your mouth shut about the existence of this room. Officially, neither Chancellor Linquist nor Helena Freising know about this flat. And as long as Instructor Neithardt isn't told about this shebang, he doesn't have any reason to pursue it."
Machias had an inkling what they were about to enter. He still felt the need to protest. "As our superior, isn't it irresponsible of you to drag your cadets into illegal activities?"
Instructor Sara mock glared at him. "I thought you're the one who pushed for me to investigate the situation as fast as possible. Now that I'm actually doing it, you still complain? How about reaping what you sowed?"
She had him there.
Rean chuckled. "I take it this is the Saint-Arkh guild branch then?"
"More like the super-secret makeshift guild room," Instructor Sara drawled. "And no official may acknowledge it lest we all get into trouble. But it's better than nothing." They entered.
The flat was roomy. The center was dominated by a message board with several pages of information pinned on it. There was some clutter in the far corner as well as a half-folded banner with the famous emblem of the supporting gauntlet. Machias felt a dash of nostalgia. Since both branch buildings in Heimdallr were shut down, he had forgotten the existence of bracers - and all they had contributed for the people in Ost District. Having the Reformists restricting bracer activity two years ago was one of the first instances when he couldn't help but disagree with Chancellor Osborne's policies. Even his dad's justifications didn't ring true back then.
Well, his father's attempt at said justification was half-hearted anyway.
"So that's what the guild has been reduced to in the rest of Erebonia," Laura pondered.
"There's still an active guild branch in Legram right?" Rean asked.
Sara sighed. "Yeah, it's the only one left in the Empire. And it's the place we need to contact."
"Are you going to use this terminal?" Alisa asked. She stood in front of an orbal computer that wasn't completely assembled. Part of the encasement was lacking, allowing a look into the machine's innards full of wires, processors and optical lenses.
The Reinford heiress examined the orbal terminal with a critical eye. "Does this thing even work? This looks like it has been cobbled together with spare parts."
"That's because it was built using spare parts. This place is supposed to be secret and all, so we couldn't call for Epstein engineers to help us without arising suspicion. Some of our more technical minded members made this from orbal modules procured through black market channels."
"The more you talk, the shadier it sounds," Fie quipped.
Jusis pinched the bridge of his nose. "What she said, Instructor Valestein. Please, just stop talking or we might be obliged to arrest you. We do hold policing power even as prospective officers if you recall."
"Let's not do things completely by the book for once," Machias said.
"That's rich coming from you of all people, Regnitz. But this just shows that we are all willing to bend the rules, if it gets us what we want."
"At least what I want isn't something selfish or corrupt."
His Lordship scoffed. "Just tell yourself that, if it makes you sleep better at night."
"Right, right, stow it you two," Instructor Sara interrupted. "And it's not like this double role I'm playing isn't a pain in the ass."
"I sympathize with your plea, Ms Valestein," Doctor Gilfaeth said. "Career women like us often end up wearing various hats simultaneously. As long as we don't run straight into a conflict of interest though, it's manageable."
Sara looked thoughtfully at the Remiferian woman. "You think so, doc? Well, thanks for the encouragement."
Gilfeath closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. "What a warm atmosphere. This room has seen much activity over time, but it's still well kept and reasonable tidy. The people frequenting it must be in possession of a firm will, discipline and a beautiful spirit."
Rean, Gaius and Emma blinked at the woman.
"You have very keen senses, ma'am," Gaius remarked.
She smiled. "Just something I've picked up over time. I was part of the Remiferian Military until a few years ago."
"So that's why the Aulic Council scouted you as the main physician for Veteran Affairs, huh?" Sara powered on the terminal. "But enough banter. We need to get the ball rolling."
They all gathered around the blue lit screen which also displayed the bracer emblem. Their Instructor tipped in a few commands and waited while the orbal machine did its work. Finally, a disembodied voice answered them. "This is the Legram Guild Branch, Miles speaking."
"Senior Bracer Valestein here. It's good to hear your voice, Miles. I'm contacting you from Saint-Arkh."
"Sara! What a pleasant surprise."
Laura leaned forward. "And greetings to you, dear Miles."
"Is that you, Lady Laura? Haha, the honor is all mine. Hmm, I see. Then let's get to the point, Sara. In what capacity are you calling? As a Thors instructor, or as a bracer?"
Machias' eyes widened. The man on the other end was pretty sharp. Was this what guild receptionists were capable of?
"Quick on the uptake as always. Well, the truth is, I'm asking for permission to do something that kinda covers both my jobs at the same time."
There was a chuckle at the other end. "Now this sounds very amusing indeed."
For the next minutes, the guild receptionist received an abridged version of all that occurred, including the monster incident yesterday. Machias was glad to hear that their instructor harbored the same suspicion as him; namely that this string of 'accidents' was a plot to sabotage Prosecutor Freising's investigation.
"I think I understand the gist of it now, Sara. But this is quite a pickle that Helena got herself in."
Machias blinked. Even the guild receptionist called the prosecutor by her given name?
"Do you think invoking my right as neutral mediator can work here?"
"It's definitely skirting the border of what we bracers are authorized to do. If I may ask, Doctor Gilfaeth, how much influence do you wield within the embassy?"
"The ambassador is a distant friend. She also owes me some favors."
"And you'd be willing to expend those favors to help with this case?"
"I don't think there will be any need for that. Right now, Ambassador Hylefias is processing the shock of her embassy being attacked. Ultimately though, she is a diplomat at heart. Getting to the bottom of this alleged murder and arson is in her own interest, for an unsolved case like this could poison Erebonian-Remiferian relations for decades. As long as I have a chance to talk some sense into her, she might end up the one to invite Bracer Valestein into the embassy."
"That would be the optimal scenario," the guild receptionist mused. "But I still think it prudent for you to put up an escort request, doctor, simply to give the guild justification to deploy at all."
"I understand and consent."
Instructor Sara leaned forward. "There are two other things that you need to work your magic on, Miles. First, I want you to register four temporary bracers, with all the paperwork involved in triplicate. Second, please contact the guild branch in Ardent, Remiferia. I request backup from the Divine Blade of Wind, Arios MacLaine."
Rean whipped his head around. "This wasn't part of the plan, Instructor Sara."
"Yeah, I know. The idea crossed my mind just now. Never heard of improvisation? Besides, my wunderkind, you of all people should be glad to meet a fellow disciple."
The black haired swordsman began to stammer. "W-well, I'm not complaining..."
"Arios is an extremely busy man, you know?"
"That may be, Miles, but I still want his ass dragged here to Saint-Arkh. As of now, he's basically Prince Bartholomeus' all-purpose troubleshooter. Aside from his duties in Crossbell, he has done his damnedest to help out the Principality as much as possible. It could as well be his second home now. If you ask me, a political shitstorm brewing inside a Remiferian embassy is right up his alley."
A sigh. "You have a point. Very well, it shall be done. As for the temporary bracers, I guess this is for your students. But four at the same time? Isn't this a tad excessive?"
"It's not. My cadets have indispensable specializations that will go a long way in cracking the case. I'd actually want to take more, but we don't want the people in the embassy to get the wrong impression."
"You're walking a tightrope here, but that's par of the course for the Purple Lightning. Please come forward then, Thors cadets. I need to enter each of your data to fill in the paperwork."
Instructor Sara slapped him on the back. "You first, Machias. You're the one who showed us a way forward after all." She graced him with a brilliant smile, so very different from her usual smirks or poor attempts at levity and humor. He felt his cheeks lit up as if they were on fire and somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain it finally clicked for him that he was in front of a very beautiful woman.
Down, hormones.
Machias stumbled forward, while praying to the goddess that none of his classmates noticed his slip-up.
The personal data needed by the receptionist was standard bureaucratic fare. Name, affiliation, education, age etc. Emma, Alisa and Rean followed shortly after for the registration.
An arts and natural sciences expert, an engineer, a law major and the classmate with the best deductive reasoning. There was also Doctor Gilfaeth's medical expertise and Instructor Sara's experience as a bracer. Machias hoped that this line-up would be sufficient.
"Next step is clothes, kids. Now that you're temporary bracers, you need to look the part. Take down these military jackets and leave them here. The wardrobe has some spare armor."
Rean stroked his chin. "I guess we should also leave our weapons?"
The bracer nodded. "Especially the firearms. Basically everything that's overly military."
"Instructor," Machias asked, "do you have a suit here? As the legal counsel it fits more to look like an office worker."
"Wardrobe section furthest to the right. But don't complain about the color."
Laura stepped forward. "If I may suggest something - I think Rean should carry his tachi."
The black haired swordsman furrowed his brows. "I don't think that's a good idea. In the east the tachi is considered a weapon of war."
"That may be, but Instructor Sara has mentioned the Divine Blade of Wind just now. Am I correct to surmise that he is a man of high standing in Remiferia?"
"That's one way of putting it," Doctor Gilfaeth confirmed.
"And is he easily recognized by the sword he carries?" Laura probed further.
"Yeah, he is," Instructor Sara said. Then her face lit up. "Clever. So what you're suggesting is that Rean should identify himself as a practitioner of the Eight Leaves."
The bluenette inclined her head. "Exactly. Being seen as a fellow disciple of an irreproachable bracer reflects well on our group's integrity."
Rean folded his arms. "That seems a little manipulative to be honest."
Laura blinked. "But you are a practitioner of the Eight Leaves. Why shouldn't you take pride in that and display it to the world?"
"I..."
"We have no time for hand wringing now," Sara interrupted. "It's a good idea, Rean, so simply do it."
"...Yes, instructor."
"And our role will be as arranged?" His Lordship asked. He swept his gaze around to include Gaius, Elliot, Fie and Laura.
Sara nodded. "Contact Neithardt and continue with the field study tasks. Keep your eyes and ears open for clues that lead back to the embassy case and don't forget to talk to the people you already helped. Don't underestimate serendipity. We will update you every hour about the ongoing investigation."
"Aye, aye ma'am," the second team chorused. Laura turned to her group. "Shall we?"
The makeshift guild branch became less crowded shortly after. Another fifteen minutes later and Machias, Alisa, Emma and Rean had changed into clothes appropriate for the role they were going to play. He inhaled deeply, but his stomach refused to calm down. He looked up, but it seemed as if the ceiling was pressing down on him. Only now did Machias truly realize what Instructor Sara and their team were going to do.
What was he thinking? Performing a murder investigation on foreign soil in the guise of a temporary bracer to unravel a plot that ensnared the Empire's best prosecutor? He started to hyperventilate. This entire situation was completely over his head. While he passed the exam that would technically allow him to practice law, he lacked any real experience.
So what in Aidios' name was he doing?
Suddenly, Machias felt soft hands grasping his own. His gaze focused and he found himself face to face with Emma. She folded his hands until they were pressed palm to palm all the while Machias was lost in the depth of her sky blue eyes. Then, in a violent motion he never expected from her, she slammed her hands towards the back of his own, eliciting a loud clap and a jolt of pain.
"What was that for?"
She smiled sweetly. "Still nervous?"
"I..." No, he actually wasn't anymore.
"This is a trick I learned from my sister to make the anxiety go away." Her smile changed and became a tad mischievous. "She considers this a spell of sorts."
"I didn't know you have a sister."
"Now you do, Machias. Are you ready?"
He looked around and saw Rean and Alisa, who watched them with a thoughtful expression. Then there was the doctor who had a gentle smile adorning her lips in contrast to Instructor Sara whose smile only promised merciless teasing down the road.
"Thanks, Emma. And yes, I was born ready."
Breathe in, breathe out.
Rean tried to center his mind for the task ahead, dipping into his reservoir of calm and tranquility.
It didn't quite work like he hoped.
The leather armor he wore creaked under his movements. It was a little too snug around the shoulders, but too loose around his upper body. A piece of high quality work, custom fitted for someone else. If he were to take a guess, the owner was female, though she was clearly powerfully built.
He sneaked a glance at Alisa. Their bracer attire might be a disguise, but she was still dressed to kill just like her mother tended to do. She wore something that he could only call a battle skirt with dyed sheets of leather strategically sewn around. It was a good bit longer than he knew she preferred, though considering where they were headed appearing professional was probably the smart thing to do.
The blouse was form fitting with a bolero jacket on top. Only one leather pauldron was placed on her left shoulder while she wore a fingerless glove on her bow drawing hand. Finishing this asymmetrical ensemble was a beret which she tilted slightly for maximum visual impact. The black-white scheme contrasted beautifully with her hair color and Rean couldn't help but marvel how Alisa managed to cobble this outfit together from spare clothing and armor.
Granted, she was the one who took the most time to change, although he'd be the first to admit that he appreciated her fashion consciousness.
Head. Out. Of. The. Gutter.
Rean closed his eyes, trying and failing to drive the pleasant image out of his mind. Probably a losing battle when she was walking beside him the whole time.
He still had such a long way to go until his self-control was mastered.
Posing as a bracer, even a temporary one, still didn't feel real to him. Becoming part of the guild was on the list of his preferred jobs after graduation, a vocation he knew fitted him. Even Towa liked to call him her personal bracer during their lighthearted moments.
Were it not for that single problem residing in his heart.
Bracers were the heroes of the people, protectors of the weak, helpers of the needy and destitute. It was a reputation built over decades and as wonderful as the organization was, Rean didn't found it in him to join it.
He was poison, a curse, a ticking time bomb. His training in the Eight Leaves might have strengthened his mental control, but the beast within him never grew weaker.
And all it took was a single slip-up to lose consciousness and wake up to a scene of carnage. Be it the monster corpse all these years ago or the mutilated face of that mercenary. And how long would it take for another repeat once he became a bracer? Five years? Ten? Being accused of excessive use of force would be the least of his troubles. But what if he killed another human being while under the banner of the supporting gauntlet? Just like with the Schwarzer name, another spotless reputation would end up dragged through the mud.
The military was another matter altogether. As much as its leaders liked to talk about honor and dignity, Rean had been told by people more wise than him that the army, any army really, was always in need for killers. If the worst came to pass he might end up in a court martial, but he considered it more likely to be transferred to some shadow unit which did the military's dirty work.
Hope for the best, prepare for the worst. Truth be told, he found that clinging to hope became increasingly hard to do. But if he really succumbed to his killer instinct one day, he had made sure that it would be leashed and channeled to protecting this nation at least.
Their motley group reached the Remiferian embassy. Even now soldiers from the Imperial and Provincial armies were patrolling the perimeter, swarming the massive building in lockstep. Rean felt some of the soldiers glare at them now that they didn't wear their cadet uniforms.
Truly remarkable. Sympathies, it seemed, could be as fickle as the wind and as insubstantial as clouds. A single change of clothes was enough to turn deferential behavior to arrogant sneers, for they lacked the Horned Lion's Crest to declare their allegiance.
Rean tightened the grip around the tachi, doing his best to appear stoic and nonchalant as their little procession arrived at the front of the embassy entrance.
He wondered whether Laura's idea would blow up in their faces. There was no doubt in his mind that a great swordmaster like Arios MacLaine had earned himself the kind of fame and admiration which opened doors to the highest diplomatic echelons; as befitting of a high-ranked bracer and hero. But how could he, a fledgling intermediate, have the temerity to borrow from said fame, purporting to be the equal of a Divine Blade?
What else was Rean Schwarzer but a fake? An impostor?
The building was looming over them, its entrance a maw into the unknown. He didn't understand why Instructor Sara and Machias insisted on him being part of the investigation team. But now that he was here, he couldn't afford to drag his classmates down. Lives were riding on them finding the truth.
No pressure.
Rean closed his eyes and took another deep breath to center himself. Once he opened his eyes again, Rean visualized his negative thoughts to the likeness of dark miasma - a conglomerate of roiling, disgusting creatures to be expelled. And when he breathed out, the dark thoughts followed suit.
Leaving his mind empty and void.
"Are you okay, Rean?"
He offered Alisa a reassuring smile. "Yes, I'm fine."
She furrowed her brows. "If you say so."
For a moment he was tempted to explain himself properly, but Alisa had never put much stock into the more esoteric aspects of his martial art style. As an engineer and aspiring businesswoman, she was far too attached to the material side of things.
Doctor Gilfaeth was talking with the Remiferian guards, her demeanor a pillar of calmness that suffused her surroundings like an aura. Rean felt how the guards loosened their grip around the rifles as if he was the one holding the firearms, felt them settle into a more comfortable breathing rhythm while they exchanged words with the woman. Finally one of them saluted and ran into the building.
Even before she opened her mouth, Rean pictured what the doctor was going to say. "The ambassador is being alerted. It'll only be a moment."
Their instructor shrugged. "As long as we get an answer fast, I'm not complaining. Even if it's to tell us to get lost."
"Would it kill you to be a tad more optimistic, Instructor Sara?" Machias grumbled.
The ring of a communication unit could be heard, coming from the left pocket of the remaining guard. The man took out a tactical orbment of a different design than their ARCUS units and spoke into it. His facial expressions went through a colorful spectrum of emotions, but Rean didn't bother to decipher each and every one. Instead he let the impressions wash over him until he knew without conscious thought that they'd gain entrance.
"You're cleared. Please shed everything metal you're carrying. There's a detector up ahead. Weapons and tactical orbments will be kept, the rest returned."
"Even the tactical orbments?" Sara whistled. "That's pretty strict."
The man visibly tensed. "Murder and arson tend to raise the security level, madam bracer."
Rean closed his eyes. There was something the man wasn't telling them, a subtext resonating behind the veneer of spoken words.
Too little to go on, but he memorized it nonetheless.
Shedding all the metal they wore proved to be something of a hindrance, for there were quite a lot of belt buckles and bronze studs on the bracer gear. Emma and Machias were fast to clear the detectors with their civilian garb, but Alisa and him were forced to strip the leather parts. In the end, they decided to leave the armor together with their weapons. It was ornamental anyway.
Luckily, the guard agreed to return their other tools, like Alisa's orbal wave scanner or Rean's camera.
"Isn't this the same kind of sword carried by the Divine Blade of Wind?" The Remiferian guard stared at the eastern weapon in awe.
Instructor Sara slapped Rean on the back. "Yeah, this handsome apprentice is another disciple of the Eight Leaves One Blade School. One of our more promising youngsters."
Even in the depth of detached focus, he had to suppress an eye roll.
"I see. Well, I hope you bracers can shed some light on this atrocity. Forgive my words, but this whole situation is one big clusterfuck."
Sara nodded solemnly. "We'll do our best. I promise you that."
Doctor Gilfaeth led them through the building and as Rean followed, he opened his mind to the flood of sensations. But neither the rich tapestry, the polished marble tiles nor the sumptuous chandeliers studded with colorless crystal were of interest. Rean imagined a third eye burning in the middle of his forehead, a miniature sun illuminating the darkness. He then unfocused his mundane eyes.
Confusion, stress, the tang of fear, forming a cocktail of paranoia that rippled through the air inside the embassy. More guards were patrolling the hallways. However, Rean sensed something frantic in the way they carried themselves though they concealed it with a professional demeanor. He saw from the corner of his eye how a man wearing an elegant suit and tie emerged from the left hallway only for the guards to intercept him. Rean couldn't make out the exact words from this distance, but their mutual agitation was as clear as day.
Once again he committed these impressions to memory.
The ambassador's office was a lot more frugal compared to the council chancellor's. The backwall was dominated by Remiferia's national symbol which was also prominently plastered throughout the rest of the building. Aside from that the room design appeared to follow function over form, lacking in ornaments and blatant luxuries.
Ambassador Hylefias greeted them with icy indifference, though Rean easily perceived the cracks in her mask. Stress, paranoia, resignation, frustration. It was an ugly mix barely kept in check by sheer willpower.
He nodded to himself. This Remiferian dignitary seemed to be a strong person.
"I was told you're here for the autopsy, Julia, though I didn't expect you to bring... this much help." The ambassador swept her gaze across their mismatched looking group. There was mistrust in her eyes, but like her other emotions it was carefully reined in. Her voice was commanding and mellifluous in equal measure carrying only the barest hint of displeasure. And even that displeasure was most likely by conscious design, a subtle prod directed at their group to explain their presence without alienating them by voicing aggressive demands from the get-go.
So this was what a true diplomat was like. Most admirable.
"I thought it prudent to bring an escort for additional security, Gerda," Doctor Gilfaeth replied. "What happened here was probably not an accident. And if there are people slitting in the shadows who're brazen enough to attack an embassy, they might expand their targets to persons tasked with shedding light on the matter."
"This is a sound argument." Ambassador Hylefias raised a single manicured eyebrow. "But surely these bracers aren't here solely as bodyguards."
"You're right about that, your excellency." Their instructor bowed her head. "Name's Sara Valestein. Senior Bracer A-Rank. Me and my apprentices are here on behalf of Doctor Gilfaeth to support the investigation of the alleged murder inside your embassy. I also offer my services as a neutral mediator should the need arise."
The ambassador chuckled. "We're both aware that the need for mediation between Erebonia and Remiferia is all but inevitable, bracer. And your reputation precedes you, Purple Lightning. Still, before I accept your support and that of your...apprentices, I want some questions answered."
Instructor Sara folded her arms. "I'm all ears."
"To the best of my knowledge the bracer guild has been banned in Erebonia, no? So how come a Senior Bracer of international acclaim conveniently appears at my doorstep just when I need one the most? Forgive my reservation but this has already been a day full of unwanted coincidences."
"In that case, I can put your worries to rest ambassador," Sara drawled. "My other job here in Erebonia beside the bracer gig is being a combat instructor at Thors Officer School. These 'apprentices' behind me are officer cadets under my care, though I want to point out that as of one hour ago they've been properly registered as temporary bracers."
Rean blinked. This was not how the playbook was supposed to go down. Machias and Alisa also started to grow nervous. Was their instructor improvising again?
"As for how we caught wind of the embassy situation - at present I'm guiding my cadets as part of a special Thors curriculum called field studies. And the Aulic Council is the main coordinator of these field studies during our stay in Saint-Arkh."
The ambassador narrowed her eyes. "I appreciate your candidness, Bracer Valestein, but this level of involvement with the Erebonian Military, however tentative, is hard to accept."
This was not looking good.
"I understand your sentiment, your Excellency. But I ask you to consider one other factor: surely you realize that it's abnormal for any bracer to teach in a military institution, especially in a nation like Erebonia. The only reason I even got the job was because this class," she gestured to Rean, Alisa, Emma and Machias, "is a special project established by none other than his Highness Olivert Reise Arnor."
Wait, what did she just say?
"This investigation we want to conduct here is neither sanctioned by the Aulic Council nor the Thors Board of Directors. And I'm not a true part of the chain of command either. The only authority I really answer to when it comes to leading this class is the Imperial Prince and the ideals he represents. I swear this on my bracer badge and the honor of the Guild."
The ambassador looked mildly shocked though she recovered quickly, something Rean couldn't claim for himself as his mind tried and failed to absorb the bombshell their instructor dropped on them.
The special treatment. The fast track nature of their coursework. The extremely high profile of some of his classmates. Even the color of their uniforms. It all made sense now while at the same time being utterly unbelievable.
How was someone like him even chosen by a member of the Imperial Family?
"I've met his Highness Prince Olivert once," the ambassador mused, "and if anything he struck me as a breath of fresh air among Erebonia's politicians. A very welcome one in fact. I also understand what it means if a bracer stakes her badge and honor for a cause. Once again, the gesture is appreciated, Bracer Valestein."
Ambassador Hylefias returned to her desk and sat down. She then flipped her platinum blonde hair, a gesture similar to Alisa's. "Very well. Your honesty has convinced me that this intervention is happening in good faith."
She took out a badge and a piece of paper. After that she started to mark the document with a red pencil. "Right now, I can't spare any of my aides and secretaries to guide you around, so this floor plan will have to do. The scene of the murder, Prosecutor Freising's holding place, the witness rooms - all are highlighted." The ambassador then held up the badge, a silver stag cast on a round, golden medal.
"This is a special visitor's badge which gives you access to the entirety of the embassy even while we have this building under lockdown."
Instructor Sara bowed again. Rean and his classmates followed suit.
"Thank you for your trust ambassador," the Senior Bracer said.
The woman smiled. "Don't make me regret it." She turned towards Doctor Gilfaeth. "And thank you, Julia, for bringing them here."
The doctor tilted he head. "We haven't done anything yet."
"You've made me see light at the end of the tunnel. In a situation like this, even hope is plenty." She then swept her gaze across their group again, her eyes much warmer than before. "And before I forget, does this special project of Prince Olivert has a name?"
Instructor Sara chuckled. "Just call us Class VII."
"I guess that went reasonably well," Machias murmured. They were standing in the main hall just outside the ambassador's office. The members of Class VII had formed a cordon around their instructor, literally cornering her from four directions. Doctor Gilfaeth stood on the sidelines, watching them with mild amusement.
Rean massaged his brows to relieve some of the stress built up. His usage of the 'Unclouded Eye' as well as Sara's little surprises were already taking a toll on his mind. And they hadn't even begun the investigation proper.
"Now Instructor Sara," the black haired swordsman groused, "what was this about our class being established by his Imperial Highness?"
Sara whistled innocently.
Machias had his arms folded and his face set in a scowl. "And how about sticking to the plan for once, instructor? As the one espousing the merits of teamwork you're not setting a good example."
Their instructor put her hands behind her head and looked away.
Emma nodded emphatically. "I agree completely. And even though I'm from a remote village, it's obvious that a class project sponsored by a member of Erebonia's Imperial Family is a very big deal. Considering that some of my classmates," she glanced meaningfully at Machias, "have ties to the higher levels of domestic politics, it strikes me as very irresponsible to omit information like that."
Sara's whistling became louder and more dissonant.
"To be fair, I already knew," Alisa admitted.
Machias whipped his head around. "You did? How? And why didn't you tell us?"
Alisa waved her hands in a placating gesture. "I wasn't sure it was my place to tell. And I heard about it as an aside info that pertains to Reinford's internal procedures, which in turn touches on trade secrets. And those are definitely not matters I'm at liberty to discuss, sorry."
Rean furrowed his brows. Alisa usually resorted to business speak as a defense mechanism. More of Reinford's backroom deals? Or perhaps another spat with her mother? He then sighed silently. Probably both, but what else was new?
"Okay, kids. You can totally grill me about this later. Heck, once the others join up you can all gang up on me for all I care, but we should really start now."
"The archives are located in the west wing of the building," Doctor Gilfaeth said. "Follow me."
The room they entered exceeded Rean's expectations by far. He estimated it to have an area of more than 500 square arge with shelves upon shelves of documents breaking up the space. The fire damage was extensive and could be seen the moment they entered. Flakes of soot wafted around, the smell of burnt wood and paper still lingering. He took another deep sniff, but his nose didn't pick up any traces of flammable agents like gasoline. For a moment Rean wished they had brought Fie along. Her keen senses could've perceived even the faintest of irregularities.
One of the guards keeping watch lead them to the actual crime scene which was at the outer edge of the fire. The man was also the first to give them an actual overview of the case. Apparently, the reason why Prosecutor Freising was the main suspect was due to her being found next to the victim while carrying a firearm.
The corpse hadn't been moved and Rean felt an instant of relief that it didn't belong to the mousy assistant and colleague of Hibelle. But it didn't change anything about the somber mood that befell their group or the weight of human loss. Emma and the doctor were the first to fold their hands in silent prayer. Rean and the others followed suit, each of them murmuring words to Aidios, bestowing the last honor to the departed.
The contemplation couldn't last though and soon enough the doctor had put on disposable gloves to get to work.
"We just met him today," Emma whispered, her expression once again distraught.
Rean looked closer at the man's plain features and sandy brown hair, his facial expression seemingly set in a grimace between horror and surprise. Did the man see his death coming? Then Rean finally made the connection: it was one of the doctor's outpatients they encountered in front of her office.
"What's his name?" He asked.
"Joseph Sagitarus," the doctor answered. "He was a frequent visitor at Veteran Affairs." She paused for a moment and her even voice took on a hint of sadness. "He leaves behind a sickly wife and a teenage daughter."
Sara sighed deeply. "It never gets easier, does it?"
"I think it shouldn't get easier," Rean said, his voice firm and full of conviction. "Unnecessary death isn't something we as humans should ever get used to."
Machias closed his eyes. "Agreed."
"Anything we can do to help?" Alisa asked.
Doctor Gilfaeth stood up and took down her gloves. "Yes, there is." She gestured to the victim's body. "Most likely cause of death is trauma to the brain caused by a clean shot to the head. I'll need more time to rule out the possibility of another cause of death that might've happened at an earlier point in time."
"Why would the perpetrator shoot his victim if he's already dead?" Machias asked.
"The doctor tilted her head. "To obfuscate the true cause of death. It doesn't happen often, but it's not unprecedented either, although I consider it unlikely in this case. The headshot penetrated the entire skull. If the victim were already dead he'd usually lie prone on the ground, so a bullet that comes out the back of the head would get lodged on the floor..."
"...which obviously didn't happen," Sara finished. "So you want us to search for the bullet, doc?"
She nodded.
"This can end up very important," Machias added. "An expended bullet carries rifling marks which can be analyzed to match the weapon it was fired from. If we find it we can prove that it didn't belong to the pistol the prosecutor was carrying."
"Or it might implicate her," Rean stressed.
Machias balled his fists. "The prosecutor was set up!"
Instructor Sara clapped her hands. "First rule of investigations: we let the evidence speak for itself. Machias, Emma, search for the bullet. Alisa, Rean, try to find out more about the cause of the fire. I can't make head or tails about how it broke out in the first place."
"Before we go there's another thing worth mentioning," Rean spoke up. "Isn't there too little blood?"
"Correct, Cadet Schwarzer." The doctor gave him a nod of approval. "Head wounds tend to bleed profusely. And considering that there's a sizable exit wound at the back of the victim's head, the carpet beneath should've been dyed to a far greater extent than this."
A spot of blood that was only a few rege in diameter, almost completely concealed by the head. Just another point which didn't add up. It contributed to Rean's feeling that something about the entire scene was distorted.
"Perhaps it was an incendiary bullet," Instructor Sara suggested.
The doctor shook her head. "No signs of cauterization."
"Weeell, then I'm fresh out of ideas."
"Then let us investigate the other clues," Machias said. He pushed up the frame of his glasses. "Let's go, Emma."
"Wait a moment," Alisa spoke up. "How about going back to the entrance and ask the door guard for his portable metal detector? That should make the search for the bullet much easier."
Machias nodded. "Yeah, good thinking, though the guard is more likely to let us borrow it if a respectable bracer with a VIP badge were with us."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm already coming," Sara said. She turned to Alisa and Rean. "You two lovebirds know what to do?"
"Yes, we can behave ourselves," Alisa replied sarcastically. "Right, Rean?"
"Of course," he answered with a completely straight face.
"You kids are no fun."
Searching the epicenter of the fire felt a little depressing to Rean. Government archives were treasure troves for proper historical research. But when surrounded by the blackened remains of invaluable chronicles he couldn't help but wonder about the motivation of the culprit. What could move people to enable such deliberate destruction? Or was it an accident after all?
Alisa stood up from her kneeling position and flipped her hair. "Okay, I had my suspicions but I'm pretty sure now after looking at the blast pattern - this fire was started by arts casting."
"Are you sure?"
She took out her orbal spectrometer. "I can do better."
Rean watched her do the measurements. He couldn't make head or tails from the orbal readout, but Alisa's expression told a story of its own. "Contradictory results?"
"Yes. Looking at the energy state of the surrounding particles there were fire and water arts utilized in this room..."
"But?"
"It's completely overshadowed by space art residue."
Well, this he didn't expect. Rean looked around himself. "This area doesn't look like it suffered any kind of space casting."
"Yeah, though I'm also wondering about the water arts."
"Most likely used by the guards to contain the fire." Rean pointed to a half burned document. "Look at the way the paper is wrinkled. This is the typical after effect of water damage, except it's completely dry."
She nodded in understanding. "So manifested water that dematerialized when the casting was over."
"Pretty much."
"Do you also have a nifty explanation for the space art residue?"
He scratched his head. "Sorry, I've no clue... yet."
"So you think you just need more information to figure it out. Quite confident, aren't we, Mr Schwarzer?" She smirked playfully at him.
"Well, I seem to have a knack for cracking these kind of riddles. I mean, what else am I good for?"
Alisa sighed. "And there you go again." She put a hand to her cheek. "Really, this whole situation feels just like the kind of trouble we got ourselves in at the Military Academy."
"Yeeeah. No arguments here."
They looked at each other while the atmosphere quickly became awkward.
"Soooo, Alisa, how exactly did you learn about his Imperial Highness' involvement with our class? Or were you aware from the beginning?"
"No, I wasn't." Her relieved tone showed that she was glad to change the topic. "Mother let that tiny bit slip while I asked her about the true nature of our ARCUS units."
Rean's hand reached for his empty orbment pouch. "The true nature?"
Alisa folded her arms. "You still remember how you did your deduction thing during the orienteering exercise and figured out that the military was basically doing an illegal dig for Lost Tech at the Old School House?"
He nodded.
"Your mention of potential artifacts put me on edge and as we experienced the many functions of the ARCUS during that ruin exploration, I grew suspicious especially due to the Combat Links."
"Are you saying..."
"Yes. The Combat Links were reverse engineered from a bona fide artifact. An artifact that belongs to Prince Olivert Reise Arnor."
"Wow, this is quite a thing." Rean said. "Historical contracts between the Septian Church and nation states often mention artifacts being in the custody of royal families. They are usually part of the national treasury, so it shouldn't really come as much of a surprise, but wow! And here I thought the Combat Links were part of the orbment's capabilities as a fifth generation model."
She shook her head. "It's exactly because a Combat Link has nothing to do with fifth generation functionality that made me suspicious."
"Okay..." he smiled. "Then, Ms Engineer, you can certainly explain to the uninitiated what a fifth generation model is truly about."
Alisa raised an elegant eyebrow. "Someone is raring for a lecture, huh?" She propped up her right arm with the left and then held up her right hand with the index finger pointed upwards.
Rean loved seeing her in that pose.
"As you know, harnessing the phenomena provided by Quartz, be it arts, body attunement or other special functions like cloaking involves a process called the 'Resonance Effect'. For that 'Resonance Effect' to properly work, a lot of factors have to be adjusted. One of the most crucial functions a tactical orbment needs to fulfill is to make the slotted Quartz vibrate at discrete frequencies."
"Discrete frequencies means it has to have a constant rhythm, right?"
"That's one way of putting it. But whatever mechanism is used to make the Quartz vibrate, the time interval between the mechanical motion has to be constant like the ticking of a clock."
His eyes widened. "Wasn't Zeiss Central Factory originally an union of clockmakers?"
"Exactly. And it's because Professor Albert Russel drew on the know-how of these clockmakers that Liberl became a forerunner in orbal technology. But as you know from the older orbment models, traditional clockmaking depends on the interplay of gears, escapement and mechanical oscillators. Because the error margin for Quartz vibration is very low, it required prodigious craftsman skill to build a device that has as many separate clock mechanisms as the amount of Quartz slots."
"Or in other words, a tactical orbment with six Quartz slots are six clocks in a single device."
"Right. And not only that, the time interval has to be adjustable depending on the kind of Quartz used."
Rean stroked his chin. "Okay, I get it. Tactical orbments are serious business. But what changed with the fifth generation?"
"Shouldn't it be obvious? The entire clock mechanism was overhauled."
"I distinctly remember that the ARCUS still has gears."
"Believe me, they are nothing more but an engineering callback to earlier times. While the ARCUS chronometer is still driven by traditional technology, maintaining the discrete vibration frequency is done via the piezoelectric properties of silicon oxide crystals."
"I'm not sure I follow."
Alisa sighed. "It was considered the major technological breakthrough during the Zemurian Congress of Orbal Science five years ago, just saying. To make a long story short, crystal oscillators have a bunch of advantages over traditional clocks. They are easier to build and maintain and therefore easier to mass produce. They don't depend on as many moving parts as a gear clock, making them far less susceptible to temperature changes, humidity and physical shock. They also take up far less space which made it possible to shove in additional utilities like the call-to-call function or the Combat Links."
"Now I understand." Rean breathed in to calm his trepidation. "Mass production, ease of maintenance, resistance against shock... I bet the military just loves this."
"Yeah, they do. The Imperial Army has always been hesitant to truly invest in tactical orbments... until now."
He scratched his head. "You know, Alisa, these are the kind of things you should tell to all our classmates. I've seen you grow closer to Laura, which is great, but you're still a little distant with the rest."
"And why do you think that is, Mr Social Butterfly?"
Rean's felt a lump form inside his throat. "You mean..."
"Sorry, sorry," she sighed. "It's not fair to shift the blame on you. It's not like I made that much of an effort to socialize. What with all the meetings I attended with members of the General Staff Office - on top of our punishing curriculum."
"I see. But I think it'd do you good to get to know the rest of our class, even if you're already familiar with Gaius. They're all nice people and once they get to know you, they will realize what a wonderful person you are."
"Flatterer." She threw him a coquettish look. "That you can say something so corny with a straight face."
He scratched his cheek. "Haha, I mean..."
"It seems Instructor Sara was for once correct to worry," Machias glared at them with feigned exasperation. His expression then turned truly serious. "Have you found anything?"
"We did in fact," Alisa answered. She explained her spectrometer findings.
"This strikes me as extremely important evidence," Machias mused.
"I agree." Emma turned to Alisa. "If I remember correctly the orbal residue becomes weaker over time until it can't be measured anymore, correct?"
"Yes."
"Wait, what?" Machias became agitated. "In that case we need to immediately secure the evidence."
Alisa furrowed her brows. "I already performed the reading. Doesn't that count?"
"It depends." Machias pushed up the frame of his glasses. "What kind of official credentials do you have when it comes to orbal science?"
"Well, I graduated from Baldurs with an orbal science elective and I also took courses at the Roer Institute of Technology."
"Do you have a more specialized degree? And are the courses you took officially documented?"
"Whoa, Is this a job interview?"
Machias sighed. "It could as well be. The point is, if these orbal readings are presented as raw data at court, a layman - or in other words the judge - can't derive any conclusion from it. As such, an expert is needed to opine on the data."
Alisa folded her arms. "There isn't much to opine here. The data shows what it shows."
"Yes, but the judge doesn't know that. No matter how I look at it, the only way these orbal readings can be made admissible for court is by presenting an expert witness to explain said readings. And herein lies the rub: courts place a high bar on what they consider a trustworthy expert witness, because in contrast to a lay-witness who is only allowed to talk about facts they perceived with their senses, the expert witness may opine on matters pertaining to their specialization. And this is not intended as an insult, but I doubt your Reinford name alone is going to convince the judge to grant you an expert witness status."
"Can't we make a photograph of the reading and then let an expert have a look at it later?" Rean suggested.
"Won't work," Alisa said. "A still image is insufficient. Identifying the specific type of elemental residue is only possible when looking at delta T of the wave amplitude as well as the longitudinal changes over time. Conserving this for later viewing would require a moving picture."
"In other words, we need to find a certified orbal science expert," Emma mused.
Machias nodded. "And we need to do it fast."
"By the way, have you found the bullet?" Rean asked.
"We haven't which is why we decided to sweep the entire archive. No luck so far, but as I said, these orbal readings take priority now. Let's go."
They were lucky in the end. One of the embassy visitors who got stuck due to the ambassador's containment measure happened to be the orbal science instructor of Forsetis Military Academy. The man's name was Heribert Swift and the moment they told him they were from Thors, he was eager to help. After he looked over the spectrometer readings, he reached the same conclusion as Alisa. Following that they performed an entire sweep of the archive to search for the bullet with no success. What they found instead was a brooch made of bronze in the form of a stylized flower. Doctor Gilfaeth had the body of the victim taken away to the basement into a room with cold storage.
With the crime scene investigated as far as they were currently able, Rean and his classmates finally went to visit Prosecutor Freising. One of the embassy's guest rooms was turned into a makeshift holding cell with two guards watching her.
Those guards were quick to vacate the room for politeness sake once they learned what their group came for, providing another clue for Rean that the prosecutor was treated very well given the circumstances.
"Hm, hm, I see. Pretty clever." Freising listened attentively to their current progress while nodding along on occasion which made her flaming red hair move in riveting waves. She then leaned back in her chair and put her hands behind the back of her head.
"If my situation wasn't so dire I'd laugh myself silly right now." Even as she said it, little chuckles escaped her lips. "Using the bracer angle to get inside here? Turning you cadets to temporary bracers? I never knew you could do legal wrangling, Sara. And calling Arios MacLaine as backup? Another attractive widower to sink your claws into?"
Sara mock-glared at the prosecutor. "You're just envious the guild is full of dapper middle-aged gentlemen. Well, no matter." She gestured to Machias. "And you should thank my cadet here. He was the one who didn't relent on finding a way to bust you out."
"You're right." Freising turned to his classmate and smiled. "Thank you, Machias Regnitz for going out of your way to help me." She then swept her gaze around. "The same goes for the rest of you cadets. You're doing great work."
"I'm not sure I'd go that far, prosecutor," Machias said. "We still don't know what really happened."
Freising shook her head. "Even coming as far as you have is an accomplishment by itself. Take pride in that, members of Class VII." She leaned forward. "But you probably have questions."
They had questions all right. "Could you give us an overview of your actions in the embassy until you were apprehended?" Rean asked.
"Of course. I entered the Remiferian Embassy with two bodyguards - Joseph and Marcus as well as my aide Dorothee at 11 a.m. sharp. We greeted Ambassador Hylefias and obtained permission to peruse the restricted section of the archives. Dorothee and I went through the files until 1:30 p.m. but didn't found what we were looking for. It was then that she and Marcus went to the embassy's dining hall for lunch. I decided to continue the search with Joseph at my side."
She closed her eyes. "Around 2 p.m. I got a call through my communication orbment. Unfortunately, I can't remember the caller or what we spoke about. My memory becomes increasingly more muddy after that, though I at least recall the intention of wanting to leave the embassy. The next thing I remember is reaching clarity of mind while standing in the archives surrounded by burning shelves and Joseph's corpse in front of me. The guards came in shortly after when I raised the alarm. I was also holding my gun in my right hand and I can confirm that a single bullet is missing from full capacity, when I loaded the weapon this morning."
"The fire broke out at about 2:40 p.m. according to the guards who contained the fire," Emma added. She turned to the prosecutor. "You don't remember anything else between that interval, ma'am?"
"Afraid not. It's not a complete blackout though. When I try to think back to that time interval, it feels like there is something there to remember. But the moment I concentrate, everything becomes fuzzy."
"Do you think your mind has been manipulated?" Alisa asked.
"I cannot comment on that."
"Why not? Isn't this your own mind?"
Machias shook his head. "Making a judgement call on the existence of mind manipulation is considered opining which is only allowed for expert witnesses. And as far as I know the prosecutor lacks this particular specialization. Then there's the fact that she is the defendant and the claim of mind manipulation is awfully close to an insanity plea which in court can only be assessed by a qualified outside source on principle."
The prosecutor nodded approvingly while Alisa groaned. "How can the court effectively deal with cases with all these rules and restrictions placed on top?"
"We can't," Prosecutor Freising answered. "Efficiency isn't and shouldn't be the priority. These rules exist to curb down on efficiency in fact, because finding the truth must always take precedence. There's a reason court cases can go on for years and years."
"And what good is a court ruling if it's far too late?" Alisa asked sharply.
"Believe me, Ms Reinford, a false ruling is far worse than a delayed ruling."
"Lets continue," Rean spoke up. He breathed in deeply and emptied his mind once again. "Do you remember shooting the victim or setting fire to the archives, madame prosecutor?"
"Direct, aren't we? No, I don't."
"Are there any witnesses who saw the moment the victim was shot or the archives were set on fire, irrespective of who did it?"
"To the best of my knowledge, no one."
"Do you potentially have the ability to set the archives on fire?"
"I do. I carried a fourth generation tactical orbment with Carnelia Quartz among others. Like my firearm, it has been confiscated."
"What exactly were you doing in the archives?"
"I'm not at liberty to discuss."
"Seriously Helena?" Sara walked towards her and leaned down until their faces almost touched. "Is this really the time to keep your cards close to the chest?" She snarled.
The prosecutor wasn't moved, her expression calm and determined. "It is in fact." She turned to Rean. "Up until my memory became fuzzy, I didn't find the document I was looking for. When I had clarity of mind again, the document wasn't in my possession. And if it hasn't been moved during the fire, it has most likely been destroyed." She folded her arms and glared back at their instructor.
"This is all I'm going to say on the matter."
Rean took out the bronze brooch found by Machias and Emma. "Do you recognize this, prosecutor?"
She stared at the object for a while. "No, I don't know whom it belongs to."
"Do you have any idea what happened to you?"
She smirked. "Is this off the record?"
Machias cleared his throat. "Well, we aren't doing a deposition here. But please, consider this off the records. We could really use a clue about what in Aidios name is going on."
The red haired woman furrowed her brows. "I think you all have a pretty good idea already about what's going on. And as the defendant, it's not my place to solve this case. But I can give you one piece of advice: do everything in your power to establish a clear timeline. This blank interval between 2:00 p.m. and 2:40 p.m. needs to be filled. As long as you manage to do that you should be able to crack this case."
She leaned back and hummed to herself before continuing. "This is just me hypothesizing, but if this is truly a framejob my instincts tell me it's sloppy. Something done with little planning. However, this is just me rambling so don't give my words too much stock, yes?"
Alisa slumped down in her seat. "If this is supposed to be a bad framejob I shudder to think what a good one would look like."
"One last thing, madame prosecutor." Machias leaned forward on the table. "Is it possible to do a proper deposition here?"
"Not exactly. Remiferian law doesn't recognize depositions as a legal procedure, but they do have affidavits."
"And the requirements?"
"Pretty similar to depositions actually though the structure of the writing is more rigid. The most crucial requirement is to have someone present with the power to take oaths."
Machias wiped the sweat from his forehead. "A power held by ambassadors among others."
"Yes. For the details of how an affidavit needs to be structured don't hesitate to ask Ambassador Hylefias. She's a certified attorney."
"I feel a little bad to ask even more of her." Emma folded her hands. "The ambassador already went out of her way for us."
Rean shook his head. "It's in her best interest to continue helping us."
"That's surprisingly callous of you, my wunderkind."
"It's simply the way it is, instructor. The moment the ambassador put the building under lockdown, she had maneuvered herself into a lose-lose situation. Right now the security detail in the embassy is stretched to the point of breaking. They need to secure the crime scene, watch over Prosecutor Freising and keep an eye on the visitors, who had the misfortune of being inside the building when the murder happened." He started to pace.
"I don't know why she insisted on keeping all visitors close at hand, when there was a seemingly clear culprit, but perhaps the ambassador felt something was off with the situation the same way we do. The problem is of course that the embassy is also isolated from Remiferian law enforcement and calling for Erebonian law enforcement is politically volatile and encroaches on her nation's sovereignty."
Alisa's eyes widened. "So that's why she said a bracer was exactly what she needed."
Rean nodded. "Yeah. I'm pretty sure the visitors' patience are running thin right now. If there are foreign dignitaries among them, this could even lead to another political incident."
"My, this is impressive insight." Prosecutor Freising chuckled. "Cadet Schwarzer, right? Ever considered going into politics? This is exactly the kind of thinking one needs to stay on top of the game."
The black haired swordsman scratched his cheek. "I don't think politics is really my thing, madame prosecutor."
"Shame. But you might be glad to know that you hit the proverbial nail on the head. There are foreign dignitaries caught up in the lockdown and if I were to trust the whispering of my guards these dignitaries have already made their displeasure known."
Machias buried his face in his hands. "I'm almost afraid to ask, but where are they from?"
"The North Ambrian Embassy."
Instructor Sara sighed. "Why are things never easy?"
About silicon oxide crystals: For those interested, what Alisa mentioned about crystal oscillators is the underlying mechanism of real world quartz clocks which would make fifth generation orbments Quartz-Quartz devices. Sorry, couldn't resist the pun. ;)