May 3, 2025
Patrick Rios
The smooth stone floor made Isaac nervous. The blindfold made him even more nervous. The cold floors sent memories flooding into his mind’s eye. All of them unwanted. He could smell the wine they had on their first night, he could smell her bouquet, and he could smell the soiled sheets of her death bed. That’s what he was here for right? These pin pricks of memories simply had to go.
The Inspector knew the routine of these visits by now. Questioning the, until recently, missing person was the same song and dance. He would arrive in The Jeweled District of Hovestead, walk into a home much nicer than his and be told that this woman’s husband was gone for two days and can’t remember anything since he was a young man. He started to bring a member of The Arcanium with him less for their abilities to tell when someone lies and more for their incorruptible memory. He found it much easier to explain the dead ends when he could rely on the Sovereign's favorite toys. He had taken a liking to one of them and requested him again for this visit. Jaspar was older than most Aspirants standing a few inches shorter than The Inspector with a rather prominent widow’s peak that shows the wrinkles from years of a furrowed brow. His voice slipped past his lips and began the questioning process.
“Ma’am we have just a few questions for you and your husband if that’s okay?” The Inspector sat down across from the couple, or more accurately fell into a plush bear trap. The Inspector placed his hands on knees and sat forward, “Could you tell me the last thing you remember sir.”
He answered with more energy and vitality than he expected from a man that’s over the second hill “Well, I remember grabbing a pint or two at Elderberry. I think a couple of mates were there but I can’t quite remember.” He gives a sheepish grin with those last words. As if he was still new to telling people he was hungover. The Inspector gave the signal to Jaspar, closing all of his fingers into a fist except for his pinky, Jaspar’s eyes turned an opalescent shimmer for a moment. Far too quick for anyone without a discerning eye to notice, and Jaspar gave The Inspector the same hand signal. The man was telling the truth, or at least he thinks he’s telling the truth. The Inspector knew how dangerous the latter could be.
The Inspector glanced at a moment of hesitation from the man’s wife. Without breaking his gaze on the man he spoke to his wife “I’m assuming this wasn’t the events of the last night you spent with him?” She responded quickly “No, that was close to thirty years ago. Those were his university days.” Having this conversation in front of the man caused him no confusion which The Inspector took note of. Jaspar and The Inspector quickly shared a look and stood up from the sofa.
“If we have any more questions for the two of you we’ll send a courier.” The two quickly made their way out of the home and back onto the streets of The Jeweled District.
The Inspector has spent most of his adult life in the city of Hovestead. The Seat of The Sovereign had everything a man like that needed, but Jaspar was still new to the city and the country for that matter. He still had the walk of someone from the Old Country. His discomfort was most easily noticed in this district. The homes of nobleman and wealthy business owners seemed to make the old Aspirant walk quietly hoping to leave not even his shadow here.
“Third one in so many days, Inspector.”
“It certainly is, did you catch the difference in this one though?”
“The other two’s memories were from when they were children no older than ten and this one seemed to be in at least adulthood.”
“Which rules out an implanted memory from a powerful enchanter.”
“Perhaps a sloppy enchanter?” “It’s possible but we would’ve seen his body fighting back and you might’ve been able to catch it as a lie.”
The Inspector didn’t like when it wasn’t the most plausible outcome. It usually led to a series of dead ends and eventually a problem he couldn’t solve. They stepped out of the smooth stone path onto a rough cobblestone floor. Accompanying the change in texture was a wave of sounds and smells as they stepped into The Grand Plaza. Jaspar lifted his shoulders and spoke in a more definite tone now that it was clear no one could hear him.
“So, we start looking down other avenues?”
“We do, the next easiest thing to rule out is memory modification via Infusion.”
“We don’t have the guild in the Old Country. Is that kind of Infusion possible?”
The Inspector wiped his face and tried not to get sweat in his eyes. It was a hot day and he couldn’t think straight in the heat. The thought of trying to get The Technican’s Guild to answer any of the questions they had gave him vertigo.
“It’s certainly possible but mind altering enchantments are well regulated and if it was there would’ve been a paper trail.”
“Why does it sound like this is all theoretical”
“The guild has a vested interest in keeping the identities of the buyers secret. Legality be damned.”
The heat was getting to him and needed something to get his mind thinking down one corridor. There were too many thoughts at once.
“Jaspar, you’re done for the day. Give me time to think. I’ll send a courier soon. Thank you.”
Before Jaspar could offer any resistance The Inspector banked to the left pushing past a group of men lugging boxes of fresh meat on push carts. The smell in the hot afternoon sun turned The Inspector’s stomach. He cut through an alley to get out of The Grand Plaza. He was fine taking the long way to his favorite afternoon drinking spot; he liked the way this path turned to dirt instead of stone, and he found the act of walking to be meditative and thought-inducing. The walk always reminded him of coming to the city the first time. He was a boy older than five but younger than ten. He travelled with his mother and sister. His father had arrived a month or so earlier to set up their living situation. A house outside of the gates, but to go from the farming hamlet of Malid to The Seat of the Sovereign was enough for him.
That was one of his last happy memories of his family.
The largest reason for traveling to the capital was two fold. Find a Spellbinder who could help his sister control her abilities and to find a doctor for him.
The Inspector shook his head in a quick motion as if to scare away a fly or bee in his hair. When the memories veered too close to an actual feeling he had to respond with a physical countermeasure.
He got to the bar soon enough. It was vacant apart from the barkeep who The Inspector knew quite well at this point, but not well enough for the two of them to exchange names. This was on purpose for The Inspector as he found knowing someone's name gave him more information than he would like. She was also a wealth of information in times similar to these. Where the labyrinth of possibilities was giving The Inspector too many paths to follow.
“Anything dangerous on the streets I should know about Inspector?”
“Nothing, you haven’t heard of already ma’am. I’ll take a double today please.”
She poured a triple for him
“Even those boys that wear green at midnight?”
“I have no clue what that means.” The liquid burned in a way that woke the inspector up out of his heat induced stupor.
“Around the docks they’re saying to travel in pairs because the boys in green will take anyone who’s alone.”
“Yeah, who’s saying?”
“I heard it the other night from some of those boys coming off that boat in the far dock. I think it’s called The Temptation.”
The Inspector found this to be a significantly better use of his time rather than sit at the guild and struggle to find someone who would look him in the eyes.
He made his way to the far dock and found a boat encrusted in barnacles and sails firmly tied up. Most of the crew was around the dock, some were drinking others playing cards.
“Hello boys, I’m here to ask some questions about some people in green.”
As he thought no one jumped up to give him a statement.
“I thought we might be feeling shy today. I’ll just send the harbor master over and get your statements, and then who knows maybe while they’re there they might take a look at your cargo hold.”
They all share a glance as a couple more seconds pass and all their eyes move towards a man sitting on a chair near the gangplank. The Inspector thinks he’s too young to be the captain but is clearly in some rank of importance. He gets out of his chair with a grunt.
“Look, if this is about Isaac his contract was up and he went with that group of freaks all on his own. They barely talked him into it.” “And these freaks were wearing green I’m assuming?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t like they were wearing bright green overalls. They just had a singular piece of green on them.”
The Inspector had a sneaking suspicion this was the case. If it was getting to barkeeps then he knew a grain or two of salt was needed.
“It sounds like you heard what they said to him.” The Inspector liked to phrase questions at statements when it came to asking questions from people who were looking for an exit.
“Not all of it. Isaac kept to himself on the ship. I think he hated being the old man in the crew. When we made it to the city he wasn’t sure if he was going to sign on for another contract, but after one conversation with those boys he left us with two middle fingers and a cloud of dust. All I heard was Isaac saying something like "are you sure you can take all of it.”
The Inspector perked right up.
“Was he talking about something he brought with him on the boat? Was he selling a little moon dust on the side?”
“Look we’re not doing any of that, no matter what you think of guys like us.”
The Inspector really wished he had Jaspar with him to check if he was telling the truth, but he was just going to have to rely on his gut which turned with whiskey and anxiety.
The Inspector let a beat pass before he continued.
“Did you see where they were heading or did Isaac tell you anything?”
“I saw them walking down the road to the south gate.”
The Inspector knew the south gate was easy to get in and out of. It’s the least guarded in the city. He also knew he had to get Jaspar for this. He had no idea if these guys were dangerous and if they weren’t that was somehow worse.
He pulled out a small pouch from his pants pocket. He poured the contents out into his hand and held the collection of seeds and dried corn. He squeezes them in his fist and lets out a long loud whistle that surprises the sailor next to him. A small bright red bird lands in his now empty hand. He whispers something to the bird and it takes off.
The walk to the south gate is short thanks to The Inspector’s pace. He felt the whiskey starting to move towards his knees and the aches of a long day were starting to be felt. He was tired and he was certain a good night’s rest wouldn’t do. To his surprise he finds Jaspar waiting at the checkpoint out of the city.
“Your bird broke a window.”
The Inspector smiled for the first time in a while. He quickly caught Jaspar up on the things he learned as they left the city proper and into the farmland that surrounds the city.
“Well, we don’t know exactly where these men in green are located, just that they left the city heading this direction with this Isaac man in tow.”
“There’s an old barn that’s further down this road. It's the closest thing to a bar for most of the people around here. The lady who runs it owes me a favor.”
The sun was setting quickly as they arrived at a large barn that was already quite loud from where they were standing. Lanterns were starting to be lit outside as the two of them made their way into the cacophony.
The Inspector noticed Jaspar’s immediate retraction into himself. He didn’t think about it until this moment, but this was probably the first time he’s been to a place like this. The Old Country didn’t have much to celebrate and Jaspar was already a serious man.
The Inspector moved to the bar and his presence alone made a few drinkers find a new chair. He had to speak loudly over the dueling fiddles in the middle of the dance floor.
“Tell Corinna that the sow is here for a truffle.”
The bartender scoffed ever so slightly and then walked to a set of stairs leading to the second floor. He yelled something inaudible, and not much longer a woman came down the stairs. She had shaved her head clean since the last time she had seen The Inspector. Her face had the opposite of laugh lines and a near permanent scowl that seemed to only get worse when she laid eyes on The Inspector and the old Aspirant.
“How quickly can I get you out of here Sow?”
“As quickly as you tell me about these boys in green.”
She rolled her eyes in disbelief.
“Don’t tell me you believe in all of their promises. They can make your future better by changing your past. That’s nothing, the past is dead and gone. Anyone saying otherwise is a child.”
“I always like to come here for a pick me up Corinna, you know just what to say. I just have a few questions for them, are they around the area?”
“I tell you and then you’re outta here right? No addendums?”
“Someone cracked open their dictionary. You tell me and I’m out of those doors.”
“They’re all down by Waxman farms. That big farmhouse always got people by the wagonfull coming in and out.”
The Inspector gave a stiff nod and left with Jaspar on his heels.
“You know where this farm is, Inspector?”
The Inspector didn’t answer right away. He chewed on his cheek for a moment before shaking his head quickly.
“Yes.”
“Do you know that family? What are you thinking?
The Inspector opened his mouth to start explaining that The Waxmans were the people that helped support his family when they first arrived. They showed exceptional kindness to his family, and through a series of tragedies and bad breaks they sold their farm to the city. He begged his parents to let them stay with them but the empathy of children is no match for the cold reality of modern living.
“They were family friends. It’s not far from here, and I would like to get there before the sun completely sets.”
The rest of the walk was stuck in contemplative silence. The inspector wished for this day to be over, but more so he wished some other investigator was chosen; this was all starting to wear on him greatly.
The stars were beginning to dot the sky when he opened the gate to Waxman farm. Jaspar threw his arm out to block The Inspector from moving forward as his eyes flashed opalescent.
“Something’s wrong. This isn’t like your magic or even my magic. It’s…older.” The Inspector took a deep breath through his nose as his eyes flashed a pale green color as the insects that were buzzing and chirping went quiet.
“There’s no animals here either. Not the way I would run a farm.”
They continued up the dirt path to the main house feeling like the silence was only getting louder. The house emitted no light from its many windows as it looked upon the travellers in stoic silence. The porch steps creaked under the weight of the two of them. The Inspector gave a firm knock and the door opened. A cold air escaped and the silence only grew as it started to feel like it was emanating from this house.
The house gave its best facsimile of a normal living space. Dining table with chairs neatly tucked in and a common area with a hearth that acted as a viewer to many wordless nights. The horrible sense of familiarity was eating away at The Inspector now his hands were shaking as he tried poorly to cover it up.
The house groaned and the previously unseen door to the basement lazily swung open as if the house yawned it open. Jaspar said a prayer from the old country and the two of them began their journey downward. The steps didn’t groan like the rest of the house and The Inspector realized they were walking on stone that was unnaturally smooth.
Light began to blind them from something at the foot of the stairs. It was impossibly bright as if they had parted two clouds and stared at the sun itself, and just as fast as it came it disappeared.
“Jaspar, are you alright?”
The Inspector was met with silence. He took two pieces of wool from another pocket and exhaled on them as they lit up in blue flame illuminating the staircase. The Inspector was met with isolation as the flames from the wool burned out. The sound of two voices came at the bottom of the stairs in a language The Inspector couldn’t understand. He reached the bottom of the stairs, as it turned into a stone hallway. His eyes were beginning to get used to the dark and saw the outline of a door set deeply into the stone.
As he got closer to the door he began to smell something cooking. He stopped dead in his tracks as he recognized the smell as something so singular and something he hadn’t thought of in years.
His mother’s apple tart.
It couldn’t be. It was his favorite thing his mother made. Usually only for his birthday or if he had gotten over a particularly nasty bout of illness, but here it was. Deep in the basement of an abandoned home.
He picked his feet up to walk as if he was stuck in feet of mud and pressed against the door. There were five people facing him as he entered making a V formation in the room. The room itself was nearly barren with only a claw footed cauldron and certainly no source of apple tart to be found. The five figures all wore various shades of green cloaks. The fact that it wasn’t a matching shade seemed to make The Inspector think they weren’t such a unified front as they wanted to appear to be. The figure at the point of the V began to speak.
“We’ve been waiting a long time for someone like you Inspector. You walk around with memories that you can’t even physically bring to face. Every single alley and every single tavern has a story and memory for you. The place where you decided to become an investigator.”
The Inspector’s mouth filled with a familiar taste of dark ale. The same ale he used to drink when he was starting at the academy.
“You used to think that the trail of pain you carry with you is what makes you so wonderfully you, but you’re older now and that was a romantic idea. You’re starting to realize that all those ways you used to live are the things that are killing you now. Every unrequited love and every failure building and building.”
The figures break away from the V now as the speaker steps to be directly behind the cauldron.
“Your life does not have to be a series of reminders of things you’ve already done or more aptly tried to do. You don’t have to torture yourself with these things anymore. Allow forgiveness into your life. Allow yourself to simply… forget.”
The Inspector took a breath and walked forward.
