Chapter 738: Avian Stark

"The scene says of premeditation; we can assume someone wanted to kill. The mortal blow via the knife speaks volumes. Hence my conclusion, the man, if we are to dig a little in the character will be discovered as scum, the representation of malice. Igna, you referred to the lady being rich, the man, by what can be read from the outfit, is of lesser social standing. Elopement happens if parents do not agree, and the latter is rare at best. Lower social standing parents have no qualm about what their children are doing, matter of fact, after the age of maturity, they blatantly try to get rid of their children, to work, further studies, it doesn't matter. What I said prior is based on a study conducted by the University of Loe. That aside here's what happened, I draw my conclusion on prior knowledge. A similar case took place in Melmark a few years ago; an heiress, despite the strong words from the parents, fell in love. Alas, the world doesn't easily accept the union of two parties at the extreme end of wealthy and moderate."

"Enough," cried Henso, "-will the lecture do good in solving the case or what?"

"I'm explaining the motive. Heed my words well," he glared, "-further interruption will be left for I to blame the incompetency of the train guards. I'm sure my employers would drool at the prospect of exposing effortlessness. Now then, back to my monologue. The couple wasn't exactly a couple, the man, a leech, wanted the lady, heiress's fortune. Romanticism was the lack of the killer's intent," he pointed at the man's body, "-he killed the lady. It must have been an easy job, for one who's quite nicely built. The blood splatter across the shoulder isn't from trying to help the lady, no, when he slit her throat, the splatter sprayed, the motion was clear. The lady sadly awoke to a bleeding neck, still sat in the prison of a cabin. Blood on her fingers came from touching her mortal wound subconsciously. The man, after slitting her throat, veered to check his back, there, the unfathomable happened, she must have spoken with her last breath or at least done something to call for his attention. He must have spun in horror to see her breathing – hence arrives the next scene, the introduction of a new character, the bartender we met earlier. This, I sadly say, wouldn't be known to either lord Igna or one-time travelers, the guard for the hall can surely attest," a seeking gaze shot outside, the receiver, nervous, stumbled on his word, "-fret not," added lord Stark, "-tell us about the policy."

"The policy about food serving. It is customary for an attendant to check on guests who haven't had lunch or were cooped in their lodging. We take pride in tending for the guest's needs."

"-and, the attendant turned to be the butler. Did you see him enter the hall?"

"Yes, he arrived to check on the guests, frankly, I needed to visit the washroom. Jolye kindly stood in my place."

"Right," the grin lengthened, "-Jolye, a recent employee to the company, is the personal guard to the lady. An heiress has her attendants. He must have walked in to check on her lady, saw her dead, rushed inside – locked or not, he would have had the key to her room, and I base this on the man's intellect and responsibility, he'd rush in, fatally stabbed the man, left the knife to avoid spilling more blood, avenge her lady's death, then ran. There's the matter of the other bartender," a suspicious gaze loomed into the hall, "-could we have a work s with the same man of before?" 

The guards swiftly pulled the man across, "-what's the meaning of this?" he pleaded.

"Tell me, are you truly a simple bartender or someone more important?"

"Fine," he sighed, "-there's no use keeping the truth hidden, our lady's dead. My partner and I were assigned to discreetly keep track of her antics. She was a kind and generous soul, always wanting to help and always ready to leap into adventures. It was simple enough to call in favors." 

"Where's Jolye now?"

"He jumped out a few minutes ago. Perhaps drowned in the river. So, lord Stark, do you have anything to add or shall I take my leave?"

"I see no reason to keep you around," the slender figure crawled from the depth of the stained cabin, "-I'll report the incident as is to my employees. Train guards, have their body readied for the next stop, the mystery's solved and justice was dealt." 

Time shuffled a few minutes later, the officials gave a summary about what transpired. For the safety of the passengers, the cabin would be inaccessible for the duration of the trip. They were very much unhappy. I found myself sharing a table with Lord Stark, head's deep into the battered-looking notebook. "See, lord Igna, how was the show?" he smiled.

"Gruesome and uninteresting."

He tilted his head as if taking offense, "-Is that so?"

"I do not mean my words badly. I reached my conclusion long before you decided to check on the man's clothes. I admit the way in which logic and careful examination were employed is very impressive. My methodology involves accounting the state of mind of the fellow witnesses, a big puzzle builds upon the clues – the link, testimonies, lies, truth, if one knows what to seek in a person's lies, tis often better than truth. A lot can be learned by how a lie is told – it's a way to glance into the person's inner thoughts." 

"Interesting," he smiled, "-I would very much enjoy thy company in the near future. Alphia, especially Odgawoan, is full of unsolved mysteries, schemes needing an outer perspective." On those parting words, the memories shattered – before rose a dimly lit rectangle on which wrote 'Rosespire'. 

It would take a few hours before the sprawling capital city rose through the dense forest paths. Along the journey, the introduction to lord Stark lit the flames of curiosity. The Arcanum bore various articles, '-a man who's never failed to uncover a plot, the famed Stark strikes again and solves the death of starlet Jennla,' the same format followed till a well-written extract of the many cases.

"Casefile of Stark, Order 04, the lady of the hill. A body was discovered mutilated within the Sela dessert. No clues were left by the killer, the state of the body made recognition impossible. Therein, the private eye flew to Iqeavea, more precisely, Dreqai. Many months elapsed till a working hypothesis reached the tables, in the end, Lord Stark not only uncovered her identity by the brilliant use of Mana identification but also found the one responsible, a member affiliated to Snow. The culprit was found dead the next day after lord Stark placed a name and face."

"Casefile of Stark, Order 54, the royal heirloom, here, the report speaks of the most famous case. The heirloom, a priceless ring, thought to have been stolen by ruffians, told of signs of an internal struggle. The independent kingdom of Erransia, located to the South-west of the main continent, led to questions about the integrity of the factions. The task to find a ring, uncovered a deeper plot, a revolt by the king's assassination. Before the event culminated, the killer – the prince, was caught red-handed trying to poison the king's drink, a very cliched means of attack."

'The casefiles stacks on and on, he's flown under the radar. The plots usually link to mysteries on the main continent. Starix was outmaneuvered in Alphia, a keen eye to observations is a sharpened weapon to build a greater ploy. He took the longer route, using the sharp senses to profile the attacker, how the event played out, and eventually, what to do to trap the suspect. A very scary adversary, the murder on the train was solved instantly – the scent I smelled on the lady was strong and unusually expensive. I smelled the same on the bartender, from there I knew they were related – how, no idea.'

Intrigue in a new character had him stuck in the casefiles till the central station. 

The cloudiness of Riverwood followed onto the woeful Rosespire sky. People hurried out the train, parents tightly gripped their children, workers fixated on their watches, lunged forth into growing bottleneck. Without a fixed direction, he walked, making for a nearby café. The structure had long changed, where once the trains were separated into nobles and commoners, both jointly linked for greater understanding and haste. *Vrr, vrr,*

"Hello?" he answered overlooking the waves of passengers.

"Igna, Julius here, where are you?"

"In Rosespire," he replied, "-what about you and Malley, everything ok?"

"Cousin, tis true," the voice cracked, "-I'm a father of a young boy. He's a few months old, I'm so happy I can't express my emotions correctly."

"Congratulations," he smiled, "-where are you at the moment?"

"Somewhere down by Plaustan. Lady Elvira apparently bought a seaside villa to accommodate the new child – I swear I have no idea how she makes her money."

"There's a matter to think about," they chuckled, "-by the way, where's Aceline and Vorn?"

"Should be in Lei. Members of Vorn were signed to film a movie, I'll have to phone their manager. I think Aceline should be at the office – she's regained her flair, I mean," a link soon jumped into the messages, "-Amber time is at the top."

"Maybe I'll pay her a visit," the call ended. Onel boaster trams circling the three expanded regions of the capital, a one bound to Lei, filled to the absolute brim, waited for more passengers. 'How long has it been?' hands to the railing, the transport shakily skid to a slow advance. 

"In other news today, the queen of Arda and her son were found unconscious at their estate. Law enforcement has said the duo were drugged and kidnapped for political gain, Queen Gallienne has affirmed her fury and will to find the culprit." 

The tram arrived, '-word sure travels fast,' he thought deeply before a neatly clean mountain of buildings. One in question situated somewhere to the edge of Lei, a great landmark considering, sadly, the expansion grew – borders pushed further northward. Ultimately, he found himself carving through the walkways of town. Outfits ranged from casual to street, a demographic of young adults made much of the state of the town, '-work and pleasure. Lei must have become the multimedia hub of Rosespire, the central point being Oatway's street, I see recognizable Agency names. Advertisements are now a contest of flashiness. Shy north of the jam-packed street stood Apexi's headquarters. 

'There it is,' he stopped, '-looks old compared to the newer constructions. Scary what a few years can do.'

"Might I be of help?" inquired a guard held inside a concrete-roofed transparent cabin.

"Is Aceline around?" 

"And you might be?"

"Igna Haggard," a show of the crest opened the gates immediately.

"Lady Aceline should be at the cafeteria, head straight then turn left, should be noticeable." 

"Understood, thank you for the help," hands in pockets, '-I wonder if she's aged at all. I came on a whim, the awkwardness of a long-awaited reunion, no,' the paced halted, '-no, no, there's no way she'll be happy. I told her to leave Alphia, we promised to make a band and song, guess the idea flew over my head – more I think the less I want,' the point of no return stretched in the distance. Long straight back hair, almond-shaped eyes kept behind large round glasses looked at the entrance, a cream-filled spoon halted at her mouth, '-Igna?' 

"Hello," he waved, the spoon dropped, she rose, pushed the chair, rushed for his collar, "-IGNA!" 

"Long time no see, Aceline."

"You," she glared, "-where have you been!"

"Long story," he smiled, "-how about letting go of my collar, the others are watching,"

"No, I don't care," she pulled, "-I waited, waited, and waited, no response, Éclair, Julius, everyone was worried to no end. Where were you?"

"In another realm," he whispered, "-there's no point dragging on the past. Let's catch up."