Ritar Seq Libertev Aleth, ‘The Truth Shall Set You Free’.
William hadn’t been sure what to make of that when he translated it several days ago. Standing before the sign now, he wasn’t pleased to note he had no further revelations.
It was a bit presumptuous wasn’t it, ‘the truth shall set you free’. The truth about Manton Stockwell those people in the building before him were hiding better set William free. That was the best he was hoping for at this point.
He gave the cylindrical bag on his shoulder a little heave.
It always took a little gusto to walk back into the belly of the beast. Some of Wiliams collegues said little prayers or did breathing exercises. William didn’t do any of that. William thought about absolutely nothing at all as he pulled open the heavy wooden door. It creaked as he did so, long and loud. He stepped foot back into the atrium.
This time, he wore shoes that slipped on and off easy and one of his nicer pairs of knit socks. With the door closed the atrium blotted out the noise from the city. It was as if a haze fell over him, the dull murmur of civilization outside and the stained glass painting patterns in the wooden floor. No heads stuck out from chairs to greet him. He was alone.
Now that he was in his current situation William had to admit he didn’t expect the atrium to be empty. It was just a small room, really, with a selection of rather basic furniture spread about and another pair of large, imposing double doors straight ahead. Neither set of double doors were polite enough to include a doorbell, but this was, after all, a parish. That was the one thing William knew for sure about the ‘Order of Alynth’. It implied there was some spot of worship here somewhere, and the building was visibly large from the outside, so up to the next set of double doors William went, it looked heavier than the first, somehow. He reached out a hand, was just about to touch the handle-
The door pushed open in William’s direction. He took three quick steps backwards.
This time it wasn’t Rell Penumbra who greeted him, but the tall, black haired man, Everett Oracle - the only other member of the order for which William had a face to match the name. There was a story to that.
“I’ll admit,” Everett said, “I didn’t expect you to return.” He shut the door behind him and stood before it, as far a distance from William as he could manage.
“I’m persistant.”
“I can see that.”
The package on William’s back drew Everett’s eye. William let it drop off his shoulder into his hand and undid the button housing the cannister. This aveitium didn’t come in so elaborate a container as other substances (unknown origin or otherwise). This cannister was dinged up and worn, and the threads of the lid ground together painfully as William undid the top and let a handful of strawberry-sized silver cubes fall into his hand. He looked back up to Everett.
Everett sharply inhaled.
William had spent the last several days looking for answers and coming back with only more questions, as was often his wont, but he was confident in saying there was something bizarre going on here. Even William would admit the arcadium kept good records, so he headed over a few days ago after work. By law, their external records were to be accessible to any attestant, but arcadium internal policy was to require an escort. William dealt with that the first dozen or so times he trawled the records years ago. They always provided some young apprentice who clearly had better things to do and the whole dance got old fast, but, and this was the arcadium’s fatal flaw, they used the same number pads to operate the elevators that they used to lock the record archive, and William had gotten the passcode the first time he looked over the apprentice’s shoulder. It had been years and they still hadn’t changed it. William just made sure to scowl at anyone who looked at him funny in there and he had never once been bothered.
The ‘right to purchase’ requests were in the back right shelves and were tracked in ledgers both by date and by combine. William spent six hours in there, so he was confident in saying the ‘Order of Alynth’ had not attempted to purchase aveitium the legal way - not once, they never so much as tried.
Everett Oracle looked at the cubes in William’s hand like they were pure gold. He took a few cautious steps towards them and reached out a hand to pick one up. He clutched one with long, slender fingers. William foisted the fistful of cubes into Everett’s hands as soon as he was able, let them fall into his palm.
It begged the question, if aveitium was so precious to Everett Oracle, why didn’t he try?
William recieved the beginnings of an answer that same evening several nights ago. The ‘combine records’ were located in the back left shelves and were tracked in ledgers alphabetically and by combine designation. William didn’t expect to find much of anything there, to be honest. The truly interesting bits were locked away in the arcadium internal records, where William would have to engage in breaking and entering to access, but he was at the arcadium late that evening and he didn’t want to go home to try to sleep just yet, after he finished raiding the purchase records, so he checked on a whim.
And lo, the ledgers logged the combine, and marked the location of a file, an empty file, save one fuzzy photograph of a certain black haired individual in side profile, with the name written in block text underneath, ‘Everett Oracle’. Everett was in motion, with the city in the background, other people in the background, the lighting was horrible, and William would bet anything the picture was taken without his consent (because it looked just like the photos William took of people without their consent).
There was a lot of the whole situation William didn’t know what to make of, but that photograph he found the most intriguing. Put another way, if William took a look at the AGO-Docks file and the only thing he found in there was a blurry photo of himself he would have some questions, and not polite ones. He did walk over to the AGO-Docks file, they had a manila envelop shoved full of thirty years worth of community day flyers.
The man who stood in front of William with seven little cubes in his hands looking a complicated way about it had somehow made his way into the bad graces of the arcadium.
Everett went to hand back the aveitium, William held out the cannister for him. “If you want payment, we can provide some, but not what it’s worth.”
“I thought it was clear I was only looking for information.”
Even to that, Everett frowned.
It had occured to William that such an outcome might be the case, given he and Rell had barely negotiated. He’d spent some time considering the scenario. His mind was made up that evening, surrounded by bookshelves two stories high, so long after dark the arteficers had dimmed the lights, sitting on the bottom rungs of a ladder looking at a shoddy photograph by handlamp.
“Freely given then.” William fastened back the lid and held out the cannister.
The wrath of the arcadium, in this city? They would need all the help they could get.
Everett took it from his hands so tenderly. “Genuinely?”
“Genuinely. What am I supposed to do with it?”
Everett was quiet for a long moment, standing entirely still holding the cannister in his hands. As neighbors walked by outside, their silhouette crossed the stained glass reflection laid upon the floor. Whatever Everett was thinking about, he gave adequate thought before he looked back up to William.
“We’ll figure something out.” He turned to the inner doors and pulled one open, and gave a little tilt of his head towards William. “Come in.”
That was what William was looking for, a foot back through the door. He stepped into what looked like a church hall, although emptied of any pews, it it ever had any to begin with. Along the walls were giant oil paintings, all of them landscapes of a sort. William took several quiet steps inside (the sound between the tile floor and his socks made walking through such a large room curiously silent). Everett closed the door behind him and he barely noticed, his eyes were locked on what was ahead.
At the front of the room, flanked by two more sets of doors, was an array of life sized marble figures. They brandished swords, and maces, and polearms in intense poses. At their forefront, surrounded by six wings sprouting from her back was a woman holding in one hand an enormous lance and in the other a collection of something small and round.
“I know.”
William jumped at Everett’s voice at his back.
“The door on the right.” Everett said. He guided William that way.
William didn’t know who she was. She wasn’t the Iedonid’s Idis with her floating crown, or the Enteterial’s Maelif with eight arms, or anyone else he could remotely recognize. On quick count there was at least fifteen marble statues up there, and not even so much as a podium to proselytize from. Everett was moving with some eagerness, so William let himself be led, but not without an impulsive pang to go get a closer look immediately.
Up a lot of stairs Everett led William to what was… a very normal looking kitchen - fridge, stove, kitchen table, the works. It was bigger than William’s kitchen, and that was about where the differences ended. It was an incredibly average looking, mostly unpersonalized kitchen, situated above more than fifteen marble statues and at least two dozen oil paintings. Rell Penumbra leaned against the counter next to a kettle upon a lit burner. She watched William enter.
“Rell,” Everett said, “would you go get Naskan?”
She left the room silently.
Everett set the aveitium down on the table, pulled out a chair and gestured down all very gracefully. “Take a seat.”
William did so.
“Would you like some tea?”
“Sure.”
In a minute Rell returned with an additional figure. A short, young man with snowy white hair tied up in a sloppy bun and large round glasses. He noticed William, but he noticed the cannister of aveitium on the table more. A hand from behind set a couple of mugs of steaming water and floating teabags on the table, then Everett took a seat beside William. Naskan stayed standing.
He put a hand on the cannister, “may I?” He asked Everett.
“Go ahead.”
Naskan pried open the cannister and dumped it’s entire contents out onto the table in a sloppy pile, a large sloppy pile. A cube rolled out and dinged against William’s mug. Naskan’s face twisted into some sort of dazzled delight.
“Just how much is this?”
“Two-hundred forty clips.” William said.
“Wow.” Naskan ran a hand through the pile. The little cubes clinked together like windchimes. “I only asked for fifty. Do you know the grade?”
“No.”
Naskan stopped his hand. “You don’t know the grade?”
“This is unregulated aveitium.”
Everett was positioned forward in the chair with his hands clasped on the table in front of him, in a spot between all the cubes. “Is this going to be a problem?” He asked Naskan.
“With two-hundred forty clips you have plenty to practice the process on.” William offered.
Naskan took a deep breath in, then gave a hearty exhale. “No. I’ll figure it out.”
“Good.” Everett said.
Rell was positioned in the back leaning against a counter, clearly in William’s view, with her arms crossed in front of her. “How did you obtain two-hundred forty clips of unregulated aveitium?”
Naskan looked to William. Even Everett glanced over. Lots of pairs of eyes on him, but especially Rell’s, looking on from across the kitchen. William took a sip of the tea, it could still use some time to steep. “It’s generally considered impolite to ask about the supply for one’s unregulated substances.”
Naskan replied with a little ‘humph’, then went back to examining a cube. Rell didn’t push the subject.
The truth just wasn’t that interesting. William would love to say he stole it out from under the nose of some upstairs combine leader, or he purchased it himself on the black market (now that would be impressive, he had the cash for it). But, in actuality, the guard still had the storehouse full with all the recent reagent seizures, and it was minimally manned because finances were rather upset about the rent situation. It was easy enough for William to just, wander over, after work. He stopped at a corner market on the way, because his fridge was empty, and when he reached the storehouse there was only a guard posted on the front door, and a few walking by on occassional patrol, so it was just a matter of using the key he grabbed from Bell Yard earlier that day to gain entry through the back. Once in, it was trivial to located the package described in the offsite paperwork he pilfered and grab the corresponding onsite paperwork, then walk back home with a paper bag full of eggs, bagels, and fifteen thousand florins worth of undocumented aveitium.
William knew he was not the only guard willing to do shit like that. The foremost lesson he learned in his eight and a half years at the Office of Organizations: it was better to do what needed to be done. That evening, he burned both sets of documents in his upstairs bathroom sink. There really was no concern anymore, the aveitium was gone to the world.
“So, what did we end up owing you for it?” Naskan held up a cube at eye level in between himself and William.
“Nothing. Freely given.”
Naskan lowered his hand. “You’re the Captain.” He stated.
“That would be me.”
Naskan finally stopped hovering over the aveitium and sat down at the table. “Does that mean-” He spoke to Everett, and stopped midway, looking unsure.
“It does. Sooner rather than later.” Everett said to him.
“Oh.” When Naskan was in thought his eyes flitted aimlessly around in front of him. “I’ll, um, get everything prepared then.”
Everett pushed some cubes on the table out of his immediate vicinity, and then turned to William in his chair. “You would like to know where Manton Stockwell went?”
William blinked. “Ideally, yes.”
“We don’t know where he’s located.”
Rell, from her observational location across the kitchen, leaned a little forward.
“But, we know where information about his current activities are located.” Everett continued.
“So you intend to procure this information?”
“That would be the plan.”
Naskan was one of those people who couldn’t keep his emotions off his face. Everett and Rell were both like stone. Naskan across the table was giving it his best attempt, but he wasn’t capable of hiding nerves.
“Am I correct in assuming the individual in possession of this information isn’t keen to share?”
Naskan silently cringed across the table, and the others had no immediate reply, which was just as good a verification in its own right.
“So.” William put his elbows on the table. “If you let me know when and where I’ll make sure you’re not bothered. Who’s the target?”
Again, nobody had a reply. Rell looked to Everett and Everett looked back and they stayed that way for a long moment before Rell mouthed ‘you’ at him exaggeratedly and finally Everett turned back to William and said, “it’s a bookstore. Valloy’s Academic and Legal Texts.”
William had to lean back in his chair and take a deep breath, more than one deep breath. He did like being right, it was one of his favorite things to be… wait…
“That’s not bad at all. He leaves every evening at eight. Just go for it right after dusk, there’s no regular patrols up there anyways.”
After a solid moment of silence and contemplation from the room Rell asked, “were you planning on robbing Perien Valloy?”
William would not admit that the thought crossed his mind to break in and rearrange every book in that store. He could place all the stacks on the floor in the rafters where Perien couldn’t easily reach. “No, no I found a recipt from his bookstore a while back, then he ignored all my phone calls, so I went to his store in person and he lied to me directly. I hadn’t figured out what to do about it yet.” William huffed to himself. “Robbing him sounds as good as anything.”
“Would you like to join?” Rell asked.
“Are you offering? I’m happy to lend my expertise.” He probably sounded too excited about the prospect of minor revenge. Everett beside him had visually tensed up.
Again, some sort of silent conversation took place between Rell and Everett, but they did reach a consensus. “It’s fine. We’ll reach out to you.” Everett said in the end.
They pushed the bulk of the aveitium cubes to the side and exchanged contact information right there, a very normal action for William, to exchange contact information with his co-conspirators, but of the other three in the kitchen only Naskan had their phone number memorized. William learned this because when he asked for it, the other two stared blankly until Naskan spoke up to break the silence.
And then that was it. William tea was only half drained when Everett stood up and announced that he would lead him out, and William made to follow without a complaint. Down the stairs into the… chapel, with all the statues. William had completely forgotten about the statues.
“Wait, wait.” William stuttered.
Everett stopped walking.
“Would it be okay if I take a look. Please?”
Everett turned around, and gave a small nod.
William bounded up right in front of all fifteen of them. He was not much of an artist himself, but even he could make out how immaculate the construction was. There were little scales weaved into the armor and visible veins on the middle lady’s hand, the lady with the six wings. The marble was unvarnished, pure white. In her hand, the orbs, they weren’t berries or seeds, but eyeballs, little carved eyeballs with the arteries still attached - seven of them. William was hoping that standing before her up close he would remember who she was, that some ancient lesson from academy would surface to him. This was not the case, and he would remember something as distinct as this.
“I don’t know her.” He said aloud.
“You wouldn’t.”
William looked back at Everett.
“She…” Everett thought about it, “she isn’t from this part of the world.”
William looked between the statues and Everett. “Could I get her name?”
“Alynthia. She’s considered the God of Actuality.”
William wanted to ask a lot more, but Everett had his head tilted towards the front doors and a certain look upon his face, so William swallowed it down. It was like that sometimes, questions didn’t often get immediate answers.
He followed Everett back into the atrium and slipped on his shoes and gave the place a last look around. Everett grabbed something from a nearby bin, a black umbrella.
“This would be yours.” He said, and handed it over.
It was William’s umbrella, guard-issued. It was easy to tell, he popped it open just slightly. There was a kingfisher stamped on the runner mechanism.
“You aren’t about to tell me I left this here, are you?” William said.
“You left it in an alley. In the middle of a thunderstorm.”
Being right really was one of William’s favorite things in the world.
He pulled open the thick wooden door. “Hope to hear from you soon, Everett Oracle.” Then, William stepped back into the city.