《The Kingdom of 12 towers》


 #1 The investigation starts

    Lorian Vale, lead investigator of the Order of Inquest, stood at the base of the Tower of Goldmere, his gaze fixed on its towering presence. The ancient structure loomed over him, its gray stone walls veined with silver, reflecting the light in a way that seemed almost deliberate. The tower tapered as it rose, culminating in a gleaming spire that reached toward the sky, topped by a magical beacon visible for miles¡ªa sentinel of the realm.


    For a brief moment, Lorian allowed himself to be lost in the majesty of the tower, the weight of its centuries pressing down on him.


    "Lead investigator, let''s not waste time."


    Captain Mira Deyne spoke, her jaw set. A pinched expression appeared as Lorian looked at the captain.


    She does not trust me.


    "Let us do that captain."


    As Lorian and Captain Mira stepped through the heavy oak doors of the Tower of Goldmere, they were greeted by a vast, open space. The interior of the tower was bathed in the soft glow of sunlight filtering through tall, narrow windows high above, casting beams of light across the stone floor. The air was cool, tinged with the scent of ancient wood and the faint hum of magic that seemed to vibrate through the very walls.


    The walls were adorned with intricate tapestries depicting the province¡¯s history¡ªgrand battles, legendary Guardians, and mythical creatures¡ªall rendered in rich, faded colors. The staircase ahead spiralled upward, its stone steps worn smooth by centuries of use. As they begun their ascent, the sheer scale of the tower became evident, with each level rising higher, the ceiling stretching toward a distant, vaulted arch that seems to disappear into the sky.


    With every step they took, the light shifted, the tower¡¯s magic growing more pronounced, as though the very air around them was charged with energy. The higher they climbed, the more the tower opened up¡ªwide, arched doorways and soaring windows that look out over Goldmere, offering glimpses of the sprawling city below. The walls were etched with runes, their glow faint but steady, marking the ancient protections woven into the stone.


    As they reached the upper levels, the atmosphere grew more serene, almost sacred. The soft hum of magic wass stronger there, as though it emanated from the stone itself, and the doors to the inner sanctum of the Guardians stand ahead¡ªlarge, solid, and crowned with the sigil of Goldmere, a winged serpent coiled around a tower.


    Lorian looked around him with bright eyes. He was from capital, so he was not used to the interior of a guardian tower. The amazement was short lived however as the sensitive nose of Lorian caught the scent of blood in the air.


    They arrived at the door leading into the sanctum of Elysia Valance, the Guardian whose brutal murder had brought Lorian to this place. The scent of blood was unmistakable, mingling with the ancient smell of stone, more pronounced as they reached the door.


    Lorian¡¯s heart rate quickened, and he wiped his damp palms on his coat, the weight of the investigation sinking in. This was no ordinary case¡ªit was the most significant of his career, and it had drawn him far from the familiar comfort of the capital. Here, in Goldmere, he was an outsider, surrounded by strangers who he could not trust.


    And the case is far too complicated already.


    Beside him, Captain Mira¡¯s face had drained of color. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the lock. Lorian studied her with quiet attention, noting the beads of sweat dotting her forehead, the anxiety that radiated from her despite her attempt to remain composed.


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    He had his own dread, but Mira¡¯s was palpable, almost tangible. He let her work in silence, the sound of her trembling hands against the lock the only noise in the otherwise quiet tower.


    When the door finally creaked open, Lorian¡¯s pulse surged again. Beyond it lay the room where Elysia Valance had met her violent end, and the scent of blood filled the air more strongly now, a stark reminder of the tragedy that had unfolded here.


    Lorian¡¯s mind sharpened, the thrill of the case mixing with the weight of the unknown. He was far from home, far from the people he trusted, but he would see this through. His eyes flicked to Captain Mira once more, and he noted the tremor in her hands. There was more to her unease than the murder itself¡ªthis was personal for her. But Lorian would have to wait to uncover that.


    For now, there was work to be done.


    Lorian stepped into the room, the weight of the scene settling over him immediately. He¡¯d seen countless crime scenes, but there was something raw, visceral about this one¡ªa rage that seemed to reverberate from the walls themselves.


    Elysia Valance lay sprawled on the cold stone floor, her Guardian armor in ruins around her. The once-proud gold and silver plates¡ªsymbols of her duty and her strength¡ªhad been savagely torn, as if her assailant had taken satisfaction in breaking down the very symbol of her authority. Jagged rents in the metal exposed bruised and bloodied skin, evidence of brutal strikes delivered long after any life had left her body. The killer hadn¡¯t just wanted her dead; they¡¯d wanted to obliterate her.


    Lorian¡¯s gaze drifted over the walls and floor, stained with dark smears where Elysia had been dragged, thrown, or pushed. A table lay overturned, its legs splintered, and shards of glass sparkled across the floor, catching the light like jagged stars amid the shadows. Blood had pooled around her and smeared into symbols carved into the floor¡ªGuardians¡¯ marks defiled by the savage red stain, transforming the sacred into something almost mocking.


    Her face was frozen in a look of horror, eyes wide and staring, as if she had known the rage she faced was personal. One gauntlet was missing, her hand stretched out in a last, desperate attempt at defense or perhaps reaching for a sword that was nowhere to be found. Her head was twisted at an unnatural angle, her once-proud posture shattered as violently as her body.


    Captain Mira, pale and silent beside him, took in the scene with the kind of dread that only familiarity brings. Her jaw tightened, but her eyes betrayed a flicker of grief.


    Lorian glanced her way. ¡°You¡¯ve seen this already.¡±


    She nodded, swallowing hard. ¡°Yes.¡± Her voice was low, steady, but the tremor in her fingers betrayed the truth.


    Lorian moved closer, noting the controlled savagery of the scene. ¡°A murder driven by passion¡­ someone who wanted more than her life,¡± he murmured, as if speaking to himself. ¡°They wanted her undone.¡±


    The most pressing question hung heavily in the air¡ªhow had anyone managed to kill a Guardian, especially within the sanctuary of their own tower? The Tower¡¯s defenses, powerful enough to turn back armies, should have prevented this.


    ¡°What do we know of the tower¡¯s magical defenses?¡± Lorian¡¯s voice was tight, his jaw clenched as he forced himself to ask. He could taste the bitterness of dread as he bit down on the inside of his cheek.


    Captain Mira¡¯s face was pale, her gaze distant, haunted. ¡°The magical defenses of the tower¡­ they seem to have simply vanished,¡± she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.


    Lorian felt a cold chill crawl up his spine. ¡°The defenses¡­ undone?¡± He could barely believe the words even as they left his mouth. How could it be? Everyone knew that the defenses of these towers were among the most potent feats of magic ever woven. History was filled with stories of these towers turning the tide of war, of Guardians who had withstood entire sieges thanks to the enchantments.


    ¡°T-this¡­¡± Lorian struggled to speak, his throat tightening. He could feel his pulse racing as the implications set in. He took several deep breaths, trying to ground himself in the face of this impossible truth.


    Lorian took several steadying breaths, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment as he wrestled down the surge of dread. Get yourself together, Lorian.


    Opening his eyes, he turned to Captain Mira. ¡°What have you found so far? And has the capital been informed about the tower¡¯s defenses¡­ vanishing?¡±


    Captain Mira''s gaze was distant, her voice hollow. ¡°We looked for any other possible entry points the killer could have used. There are only two: the staircase or climbing the tower itself¡ªwhich should be nearly impossible. We¡¯re confident the murderer came up the staircase. We¡¯ve also compiled a list of people of interest for questioning, sir.¡±


    Lorian¡¯s gaze swept the room, absorbing the wreckage and blood stains. ¡°It seems the killer disabled the defences, an act never achieved before and then commited a murder of passion.¡±


    He knelt beside Elysia¡¯s body, noting her twisted neck. His mind raced as he examined her. Or was this meant to look like a crime of passion?He scrutinized her body, his eyes narrowing at the undamaged fingernails, the absence of defensive wounds. ¡°Elysia might have already been dead before the other damage was inflicted. Someone may want us to think this was a crime of rage.¡±


    The pieces didn¡¯t fit. The disappearance of the tower¡¯s defense, a seemingly brutal murder¡ªtogether, they didn¡¯t add up. If the goal was to stage a crime of passion, then disabling the tower¡¯s legendary magic was an enormous risk, one that would only invite more questions. Why go to such lengths?


    Lorian¡¯s eyes shifted to Captain Mira, who stood silent, her face drawn and pale.


    ¡°Let¡¯s leave for now, Captain. We¡¯ve got a lot of work ahead. Make sure a few guards stay posted here.¡±


    Captain Mira glanced at Elysia¡¯s body, her lips pressed tight. ¡°Shall we clean the room, sir?¡±


    Lorian gave her a tight smile that didn¡¯t reach his eyes. ¡°No. Leave it as it is. This may be the only clue we have.¡±

 #2

    As Lorian Vale, Lead Investigator of the Order of Inquest, settled into his seat across from Sylas Thornfield, he observed the former apprentice with a discerning eye. Sylas, a man of wiry build with an intense gaze, didn¡¯t seem eager to be there. His eyes flickered with a hint of resentment, though he managed to keep his expression mostly impassive, a practiced neutrality that only partially masked his disdain.


    The silence stretched between them, the weight of Lorian¡¯s unyielding scrutiny pressing down like a held breath. Sylas sat with his arms folded across his chest, his fingers tapping a slow, irregular rhythm on his forearm. When he finally spoke, his tone was carefully modulated, measured.


    "Lead Investigator, I don¡¯t know what more you think I can tell you. My association with Guardian Valance ended over a year ago. If I had a part to play in her death, surely I¡¯d be far from Goldmere by now, not lingering in some library, poring over ancient scrolls." He offered a faint, sardonic smile, eyes glinting with something unspoken.


    Lorian tilted his head, watching Sylas¡¯s every word and gesture. He caught the way Sylas¡¯s gaze drifted, not meeting his directly, landing instead somewhere over his shoulder as if remembering something else¡ªsomething private, or painful. Lorian waited, letting the silence settle again, hoping to draw Sylas out with patience.


    Sylas exhaled sharply, perhaps realizing that his evasiveness would only encourage Lorian to press further. He leaned forward, the careful mask slipping to reveal a flash of bitterness.


    "She was¡­calculating. You know that, don¡¯t you? Guardian Valance had her own way of doing things, and it didn¡¯t allow for...other opinions. Not mine, anyway." He clenched his jaw, then shrugged as if brushing it off. "If anything, I was a threat to her order. A threat she couldn¡¯t tolerate. Perhaps, Lead Investigator, that is why you¡¯re here questioning me, because you know how much she despised anything¡ªor anyone¡ªshe couldn¡¯t control."


    The investigator noted the faint trembling of Sylas¡¯s hand, the way his voice strained ever so slightly when he spoke of Elysia. The resentful edge was clear, and so too was the tension hiding just beneath it¡ªsome depth of feeling that Sylas couldn¡¯t entirely shake, even after their falling-out.


    He straightened in his chair, pulling the mask of calm over himself once more. His eyes met Lorian¡¯s, coldly defiant.


    "So, ask your questions, Investigator. And let¡¯s dispense with the idea that I was ever close enough to the Guardian to¡­play a part in whatever happened to her."


    Lorian looked at Sylas and suddenly smiled unervingly.


    "You were sighted at the night of murder near the base of the tower, Sylas."


    Sylas¡¯s jaw tightened, and his eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he managed to regain his composure. He leaned back, crossing his arms tightly, but his fingers betrayed him with a small, tense twitch.


    For a moment, Sylas¡¯s face was a perfect mask, his lips pressed into a hard line. Then he forced a laugh, though it came out strained and hollow. "So that¡¯s what this is? A few drunken witnesses, seeing shadows and whispering tales?" He paused, his expression darkening. "I was there, yes. But not for the reason you think."


    "Then perhaps you¡¯d enlighten me." Lorian¡¯s tone was unyielding, leaving no room for evasion.


    Sylas looked away, his eyes tracing an invisible path across the cold stone wall before he spoke. "I came to the tower that night to¡­ retrieve some personal belongings. She''d kept a few items from my apprenticeship¡ªold notes, mostly¡ªunder the pretense of ''studying'' them. I thought I''d take them back, no one the wiser." He scoffed softly, more to himself than to Lorian. "Perhaps foolish, but not murder, Investigator."


    Lorian studied him in silence, his eyes catching the subtle tremor in Sylas¡¯s hands, the flicker of something close to regret in his expression.


    "Convenient," Lorian replied, a thin edge of skepticism in his voice. "A Guardian murdered, the tower¡¯s defenses undone¡­and you, her former apprentice, just happened to be there in the dead of night?"


    Sylas¡¯s eyes flashed with anger, the carefully maintained facade slipping. "I didn¡¯t kill her," he said, his voice a harsh whisper. "You think I could''ve managed to bring down the tower¡¯s defenses? That¡¯s old magic¡ªpowerful, far beyond anything I know."


    He paused, his expression briefly vulnerable, almost haunted. "I may have had my¡­differences with her, but I would never do this. Not to her. You must see that."


    Lorian let few seconds of silence take place, before asking Sylas to tell all that happened as he entered the tower.


    Sylas¡¯s mouth tightened, a flicker of nervousness crossing his face before he spoke, his voice lower than before.


    "It was late. I made sure of that. Didn''t want anyone noticing me near the tower¡ªnot after I''d left her service. So, I waited until the streets were empty and crept to the entrance. Everything was so quiet¡­ almost too quiet. Usually, the tower gives off a sort of¡­ presence, you know? But that night, it felt empty. Hollow."


    Lorian narrowed his eyes. "You went up the main stairwell?"


    Sylas hesitated, eyes darting away, and then nodded. "Yes, but there¡¯s something I need to clarify. There isn¡¯t just the one room in the tower. Guardians have access to¡­ hidden rooms. Ones that can¡¯t be seen or accessed without specific keys."


    Lorian blinked, his expression unreadable but his gaze sharp. "Hidden rooms? I thought there was only the main chamber."


    Sylas gave a dry, uneasy laugh. "That¡¯s by design. Most people don¡¯t know about the rooms that lie behind enchanted walls. Almost all of those keys have been lost to time, locked away or scattered, and even Guardians didn¡¯t always know about them. But... I had a copy of the key to my old quarters. Managed to keep it after my apprenticeship ended."


    "So you were in one of these hidden rooms when you came back?"


    Sylas nodded, glancing back toward the tower with a hint of apprehension. "Yes. My room was tucked away near the archives, an artifact hidden in the stone that makes it¡­ invisible, essentially. I thought I¡¯d just go in, take back what was mine, and leave. Nothing more."


    He swallowed, his hands fidgeting nervously. "When I got to my room, I heard¡­ something. A dull thud, and then¡­ silence. I froze. And then this smell hit me. Thick and metallic. Blood. It¡¯s¡­ hard to mistake."


    "Why didn¡¯t you check on her?" Lorian asked, his tone cool but pressing.


    Sylas¡¯s face paled slightly. "The feeling in the air¡­ it was wrong. It felt like¡­ something was watching me from the dark. I barely made it back down the stairs. I didn¡¯t look back until I¡¯d reached the streets. I swear, I wasn¡¯t there to harm her."


    Lorian gave a hesitating nod. "...Why don''t you hand over that key to me, Sylas? I don''t think you will ever be going back to that tower."


    Sylas stiffened at Lorian¡¯s words, the tension in the room suddenly thickening. For a moment, he said nothing, just staring at Lorian with a mix of disbelief and something darker flickering behind his eyes. Then, with a slow, almost imperceptible movement, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small, intricately crafted key. The metal shimmered faintly, old and worn but unmistakable in its design.


    He placed it on the table between them, the sound of it clinking softly against the wood, a stark contrast to the heavy silence that followed.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t expect you to ask for it, but¡­¡± Sylas paused, his voice tinged with reluctant acceptance. ¡°I figured you¡¯d want it eventually. There¡¯s no use in keeping it now.¡±


    Lorian studied the key, his fingers hovering just above it but not touching it yet. He hadn¡¯t expected Sylas to hand it over so easily¡ªthere was something in his demeanor that made Lorian feel as though the act was more than just submission. It was almost as though the key was an admission, not just of guilt but of something far more personal.


    "You know," Lorian said quietly, his eyes lifting to meet Sylas''s, "this could be used to open more than just your room. It¡¯s a key to a secret within the tower¡ªan access to places not meant for the likes of you or me."


    Sylas¡¯s jaw tightened, but he didn¡¯t flinch. "I know. I never wanted to use it like that. But that room¡­ it¡¯s the only place I could go after everything fell apart. The only place that felt¡­ safe."


    Lorian picked up the key, turning it over in his hand, his gaze never leaving Sylas. "Safe from what?"


    "From the tower itself," Sylas replied quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "From what it¡¯s become. The walls... they¡¯re not what they were before." He looked down, as though the words themselves were hard to say. "I think they¡¯re changing, somehow. Something inside the tower is¡­ moving. And I didn¡¯t want to be part of it."


    Lorian¡¯s grip on the key tightened. The air between them grew heavier, as if the weight of their shared silence was pulling them both deeper into a web of unspoken truths.


    "This key¡¯s going to be part of the investigation now, Sylas," Lorian said, his voice firm. "I¡¯ll make sure it leads us to the answers we need."


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    Sylas gave a short, bitter laugh, but there was no humor in it. "Maybe it will. Or maybe it¡¯ll only show you how far we¡¯ve all fallen."


    Lorian pocketed the key, his expression hardening. "You¡¯ll find out soon enough."


    With that the interview with Sylas was over. He was escorted by a Sentinel gaurd. Lorian could not really be sure that Sylas was sane. He was balbaring nonsense half the time.


    But, an insane person with vendetta might just be the killer here.


    Lorian looked at the key Sylas had handed over. The key shimmered quietly. Lorian believed the part about key. The part about him not being involved in murder? That he was not sure of yet.


    Lorian had already ordered that few guards be stationed near the house of people of interest. He was inclined to increase the number of Sentinel gaurds for Sylas. Either for his safety or for the safety of others around him.


    Sentinel gaurd returned with another person of interest. It was Nessa Belvoir, rumoured to be the lover of late guardian.


    Lorian leaned back in his chair, watching as Nessa Belvoir was escorted into the room. Her presence was almost palpable, the air around her tight and composed, betraying none of the nervousness that should have accompanied a woman called in for questioning about the murder of her lover. As she entered, the faintest trace of perfume lingered behind her, adding a subtle sweetness to the otherwise sterile room.


    Her gaze met his with a sharpness that didn¡¯t waver. She wasn¡¯t intimidated¡ªshe wasn¡¯t afraid. In fact, if Lorian had to guess, she was far more controlled than most people would be in her position.


    ¡°Miss Belvoir,¡± Lorian began, leaning forward slightly, his voice calm but firm. ¡°I appreciate you coming in today. I¡¯m sure you know why you¡¯ve been asked to speak with me.¡±


    Nessa didn¡¯t answer immediately, choosing instead to study him for a moment. Her eyes were dark and focused, as if assessing him just as much as he was studying her.


    ¡°Yes, I understand,¡± she replied finally, her voice even, though there was a tightness to it. ¡°I am well aware of the circumstances.¡±


    Lorian didn¡¯t waste time with pleasantries. ¡°You were close to Elysia Valance, weren¡¯t you?¡± His voice was neutral, but there was an edge to it, a slight tension that indicated he was already moving toward the heart of the matter.


    Nessa¡¯s lips quirked into a faint, almost imperceptible smile, but her eyes remained steady. ¡°Yes, we were¡­ close,¡± she replied. ¡°But you already know that. We¡¯ve been through this before, haven¡¯t we?¡±


    Lorian frowned slightly. ¡°I¡¯m not here to make you relive your personal life, Miss Belvoir. I¡¯m here to find out what happened the night of the murder.¡±


    Her gaze didn¡¯t shift, though there was a flicker of something in her expression. ¡°You think I had something to do with it, don¡¯t you?¡± she asked, her tone lightly mocking, though there was a sharpness behind it.


    Lorian met her gaze without flinching. ¡°I think it¡¯s my job to look at every possibility,¡± he said. ¡°And your proximity to Elysia places you at the center of this case. I need to know what happened the night she was murdered.¡±


    Nessa took a breath, the silence stretching just long enough to make it feel like she was choosing her words carefully. Finally, she spoke.


    ¡°I was at my apartment that night. Alone.¡± She paused, as though she expected him to doubt her, and then continued. ¡°I didn¡¯t see her after the afternoon. We spoke earlier, but not after that.¡±


    Lorian kept his face impassive, though he was already processing the answer. ¡°You didn¡¯t visit her at the Tower that evening?¡±


    She shook her head. ¡°No.¡±


    ¡°Did you have any contact with her after that afternoon?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± Nessa answered quickly, perhaps too quickly. ¡°She left to do¡­ whatever she did at the Tower. I was at home. I have no more to add.¡±


    Lorian¡¯s gaze narrowed slightly. He studied her carefully, watching for any hint of hesitation, but her face remained unreadable. It was almost as if she had rehearsed her answers, each one coming with precision, without a single slip-up.


    ¡°The night she was killed, the Tower¡¯s magical defenses were down,¡± Lorian pressed. ¡°The very thing that should have kept the murder from happening. Were you aware of that?¡±


    Nessa¡¯s posture didn¡¯t shift, though something flickered in her eyes¡ªbrief, but noticeable. ¡°No. I wasn¡¯t aware.¡±


    Lorian leaned forward, studying her face. ¡°Then how do you explain the fact that you were the last person seen with Elysia before her death, and yet you claim you had no contact with her after that afternoon? Could you have¡ª¡± he paused, ¡°¡ªperhaps been hiding something?¡±


    Nessa stiffened, her eyes flashing for the first time with something real¡ªanger, perhaps? But it was quickly gone, replaced by a cool facade. ¡°I don¡¯t appreciate the insinuation,¡± she said, her voice colder now. ¡°But I have told you the truth. I had nothing to do with her death.¡±


    Lorian let the silence sit between them for a moment, feeling the weight of her words¡ªand the weight of her obvious attempt to hide something. He wasn¡¯t sure what it was yet, but he knew there was more beneath the surface.


    ¡°Alright, Miss Belvoir,¡± he said, straightening up. ¡°I¡¯ll be in touch if I have any more questions. For now, you¡¯re free to go.¡±


    Nessa stood up, still composed, though Lorian could see the subtle tension in her movements as she turned toward the door.


    Before she left, she paused and looked over her shoulder at Lorian. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re hoping to find, Investigator Vale. But whatever it is¡­ you won¡¯t find it with me.¡±


    Lorian watched her leave, his mind already turning the pieces over. Something was off with her story, but he couldn¡¯t pinpoint exactly what. She was hiding something¡ªhe just needed to figure out what it was.


    The interview had left him with more questions than answers, but one thing was certain: Nessa Belvoir¡¯s involvement in this case wasn¡¯t over.


    Lorian sat back in his chair as the door clicked softly shut behind Nessa, the sound lingering in the quiet room. He studied the woman¡¯s departure, noting the stiff set of her shoulders, the deliberate way she held herself. It was a mask¡ªa mask she was wearing too well. Something didn¡¯t sit right about her story, but it was hard to pinpoint exactly what.


    He had seen enough to know that guilt wasn¡¯t always written on a person¡¯s face. Sometimes, the most guilty were the ones who hid behind composure, those who knew how to keep their emotions in check. Nessa had done just that.


    The next person of interest was Lady Verena Dorne.


    Lady Verena Dorne entered the room with a quiet grace that seemed to fill the space. The door creaked slightly as it closed behind her, and for a moment, there was only the soft rustle of her gown as she moved to take a seat. Her appearance was immaculate, her dark hair elegantly styled and pinned up, and the faintest touch of makeup accentuating her sharp features. She wore the expression of someone who was accustomed to power, to attention.


    Her gaze was steady as she settled into the chair across from Lorian, her eyes assessing him in return. A slight, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but it was too controlled to be called friendly.


    Lorian didn¡¯t waste time with pleasantries. ¡°Lady Dorne,¡± he said, his voice even but direct, ¡°Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. I¡¯m sure you¡¯re aware of the reason why you¡¯ve been called here.¡±


    She inclined her head slightly, acknowledging the truth in his words. ¡°I am, Investigator Vale,¡± she replied, her tone smooth, but there was an edge to it. ¡°I can only imagine the difficulty of your task. A murder in Goldmere, of all places. It¡¯s¡­ unsettling, to say the least.¡±


    Let us hope for your sake that you truly do not know the true extent of my difficulty.


    ¡°Indeed,¡± Lorian responded, watching her closely. ¡°You were in Goldmere during the night of the murder?¡±


    Lady Dorne didn¡¯t falter. ¡°Yes. I was at the estate I own just outside the city. It¡¯s not far from the Tower.¡± She paused, her gaze flicking briefly to the side before meeting his eyes again. ¡°I understand the investigation is quite complicated, but I assure you, I had no involvement in the tragedy.¡±


    Lorian studied her carefully, the faint tension in her voice not lost on him. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk. ¡°I¡¯m sure you understand that everyone in close proximity to the deceased is a potential point of interest. You were acquainted with Guardian Elysia Valance, weren¡¯t you?¡±


    Lady Dorne¡¯s expression softened just a fraction, but only for a moment. ¡°Yes, I knew her,¡± she said. ¡°We were both part of the same social circles, though our interactions were more¡­ formal than personal. Elysia was a Guardian, after all¡ªher duties kept her busy, as did mine.¡±


    Lorian¡¯s mind was already piecing together the dynamics between her and Elysia. There was something in the way she spoke that made it clear their relationship had been more distant than she was willing to admit. ¡°You wouldn¡¯t say you were close then?¡±


    A brief flicker of something crossed Lady Dorne¡¯s face, but it was gone before Lorian could pinpoint it. ¡°No. We were not close, Investigator. But I respected her. The Guardians hold a high place in our world, especially in Goldmere. I¡¯ve had dealings with them before.¡±


    ¡°Dealing with them in what way?¡± Lorian pressed. ¡°Any business or personal relations?¡±


    Lady Dorne¡¯s eyes remained steady, but Lorian caught the faintest tightening of her jaw. ¡°I¡¯ve supported the Guardians in various ways,¡± she said, her tone just a shade colder. ¡°Donations, some charitable work, as many others of our station have. But I never interfered with their internal matters.¡±


    Lorian narrowed his eyes. There was something about her answer that didn¡¯t sit right. He could tell she was being careful with her words. ¡°You didn¡¯t visit the Tower the night of the murder?¡±


    ¡°No,¡± she said, shaking her head slightly. ¡°As I said, I was at my estate. Alone.¡±


    Lorian let the silence stretch for a moment, allowing her words to settle before he asked the next question. ¡°Do you know anyone who would have wanted to harm Elysia?¡±


    Lady Dorne¡¯s lips parted slightly in surprise, but she quickly masked it with a composed expression. ¡°Harm her? No, not at all. I can¡¯t imagine who would wish to harm one of the Guardians. They hold a position of great respect.¡±


    ¡°Yet it seems someone did,¡± Lorian replied coolly. ¡°A brutal murder in the very heart of Goldmere, and the defenses of the Tower have somehow been rendered useless. That¡¯s quite a feat.¡±


    Lady Dorne remained silent for a long moment, her gaze flicking to the side as though lost in thought. Finally, she spoke, her voice quieter now, almost contemplative. ¡°The magic of the Tower has always been its greatest strength. If someone managed to breach that, it would be¡­¡± Her words trailed off, and she seemed to catch herself before saying more.


    Lorian leaned in, sensing a shift. ¡°You seem to know quite a bit about the magic of the Tower, Lady Dorne. More than most.¡±


    Her eyes snapped back to his, narrowing slightly. ¡°I know enough, Investigator. The Towers have always been a part of our history. Goldmere, in particular, relies on its protections.¡±


    ¡°Do you believe that the defenses of the Tower could simply ¡®fail¡¯?¡± Lorian asked. ¡°Could someone disable them?¡±


    Lady Dorne¡¯s lips tightened. ¡°I would have thought it impossible,¡± she said. ¡°But in times of great desperation or malice, even the most unshakable systems can be undone. If someone truly knew how¡­ maybe it could be done.¡±


    Lorian studied her, noting the hint of unease in her posture. ¡°I see,¡± he said. ¡°One last question, Lady Dorne. Where were you in the days leading up to the murder?¡±


    ¡°I was here in Goldmere, preparing for a gathering,¡± she answered without hesitation. ¡°The usual social duties. But I assure you, I was not involved in Elysia¡¯s death.¡±


    Lorian didn¡¯t believe her yet, but he wasn¡¯t sure why. There was a glimmer of something in her words, a flicker of hesitation that hinted at a deeper connection to the events surrounding the murder.


    ¡°Thank you, Lady Dorne,¡± he said, his voice calm and measured. ¡°I may need to speak with you again. For now, you¡¯re free to go.¡±


    She rose, her movements smooth and elegant as she turned toward the door. But before leaving, she paused and glanced over her shoulder at him.


    ¡°If you find anything¡ªanything at all¡ªthat might help uncover the truth, Investigator, I trust you¡¯ll come to the right conclusions,¡± she said, her tone colder now, but still measured.


    ¡°I will,¡± Lorian replied, watching her leave with a thoughtful expression.


    Lady Dorne¡¯s departure left an uneasy tension in the air, as if her presence had cast a shadow over the room. She had been the most composed and willing to talk, but something about everything she said had felt off to Lorian. There was a certain falseness in her words, a layer of politeness that barely masked the subtle defensiveness beneath.


    Though she had been one of the lesser priorities among the people of interest, Lorian now felt an increasing need to dig deeper into her background. Her polished demeanor and carefully chosen words had only raised more questions. He couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that there was more to Lady Dorne than met the eye.


    Lorian turned his attention to the final person of interest¡ªthe boy sitting quietly in the corner of his thoughts: Toran Wyle. Toran was a 17-year-old trainee in the Order of Inquest, currently in his final year of training to become a full member. He hadn¡¯t been brought in for questioning about the murder, but something about the boy kept Lorian¡¯s attention fixed on him.


    Toran was at the very bottom of Lorian¡¯s list of suspects, even beneath Lady Dorne. But Lorian had his own reasons for calling him in. He had already reviewed Toran¡¯s record, and it was excellent¡ªoutstanding even. No marks of scandal, no flaws to speak of. His training within the Order of Inquest had been exemplary, and he had demonstrated the kind of discipline and integrity that Lorian respected. The boy had shown promise, and Lorian had already decided to make him his apprentice. Toran was an orphan, with no powerful family ties, and that made him the perfect candidate for Lorian¡¯s trust.


    ¡°Tell Captain Mira to bring Toran in,¡± Lorian ordered the sentinel guard, his voice calm but decisive.


    Though he had arranged for a few of Toran¡¯s classmates to be brought in for the sake of appearing fair and had got Captain Mira to conduct an interview.


    Moments later, the door opened, and Toran Wyle entered, trailed by Captain Mira.


    Toran was tall for his age, lean with a wiry frame that suggested agility over brute strength. His dark hair, cropped close, framed sharp, intelligent eyes that scanned the room with a subtle spark of excitement. Lorian couldn¡¯t help but smile at the young man¡¯s energy.


    "Is this my new apprentice, Captain?"


    "Yes." Mira¡¯s tone was curt, ignoring any pretense Lorian had intended.


    How suspicious is she of me, I wonder?


    "I''ll send over the transcript of the interview soon. Also, assign a few more Sentinels to Sylas, and start digging into Lady Dorne''s background."


    Mira gave a stiff nod before leaving, her unreadable gaze lingering a moment too long. Lorian turned his attention back to Toran, who was watching him with curious intensity. With a small, knowing smile, Lorian extended his hand.


    "I am Lorian Vale, a lead investigator of the Order of Inquest¡ªand now, your mentor. I¡¯m 33 years old. Here¡¯s to a successful apprenticeship for both of us."


    Toran took the offered hand, his words tumbling out quickly. "I¡¯m Toran Wyle, sir. I¡¯m 17. Looking forward to learning everything I can, sir."


    Lorian gestured to the chair across from him. "Let¡¯s get you started, then. You know I''m here investigating Guardian Elysia Valance¡¯s murder, yes? Take a seat."


    He set a stack of blank pages and an ink pot in front of Toran. "I¡¯ve conducted one-on-one interviews with the people of interest. I¡¯ll recount everything they said, and you¡¯ll record it. Understand?"


    Toran looked a bit taken aback, glancing at the pages and ink, but he nodded. "Understood, sir."


    Lorian began to recount each interview word-for-word, his memory sharp as always. He never needed to take notes, but written records were mandatory, and now, it seemed, Toran¡¯s responsibility.


    "And that¡¯s it. Now, make two more copies."


    Toran nodded and got to work, though his shoulders slumped slightly under the repetitive task. Lorian watched him with a hint of a smile.


    I wonder how hard it will be to uncover all that you know, Toran. For both our sakes, I hope it won¡¯t be too difficult.