Chương 154: 68. Fill In the Gaps

The Alchemist is really weird. He's patient, affable, and charming, but effortlessly intimidating. He's over two hundred, but dresses and carries himself more like Rara than any of the older Fa'aun we've met. My first instinct is that he's an effeminate gay man who's gotten too old to worry about what other people think of him, but my gut says that there's more to it. Everything about his presentation feels so deliberate. I've got a million questions, but the trip back to the estate was almost completely silent.

Knowing that Talla and Al can hear us, even my headmates have been quiet, which is surprisingly uncomfortable. I've gotten used to taking them for granted, and while it's not unusual for them to be quiet for long stretches, knowing that they are present and willfully silent is awkward. Talla rushes off to find her parents as soon as we arrive, while Rara lingers awkwardly to keep an eye on us while we hang around in one of the quieter courtyards.

Even the guests and children seem intimidated by the Alchemist's aura, giving us a wide berth rather than flocking to see the new stranger. Al is content to just sit and wait, but I can't bear the silence any longer.

"I have questions." He chuckles and cocks his head.

"Most people do. I can't promise I have answers, but I'll lend you my ears." Great. Awesome. Why didn't I think of which fricking question to ask first before speaking?!

"Why are you so eager to help us?" I ask.

"After such earnest pleading, now you're questioning me?" he replies archly.

"One shouldn't criticize the Goddess' blessings."

"Well, you're not the Goddess," I counter.

"And that was before you claimed that you'd made your decision over a month ago." He tosses his hair and grins.

"Fair enough! I have a few reasons. Among them—I feel partly responsible for your presence here, I am sympathetic to your cause, and I feel something of a connection after our last serendipitous meeting. Besides, you're quite interesting."

"So people keep telling me," I grumble.

"You're pretty 'interesting' yourself."

"By which you mean strange, yes?" I shrug.

"Your words." He responds with a shrug of his own.

"I am who I am. Nothing and nobody can change that—and believe me, they've tried." Sounds like there's a story there. I wonder if I should press further, but Talla returns before I get the chance.

"Lady Goa invites you to join her and Lady Faarah within." Al snorts.

"Oh, how formal! Well, it's good that the grandmistress is here—that will save us some time getting our information sorted out."

"Uh..." I trail off uncertainly.

"Should we wait or...?"

"I think it would be best if you joined us," Talla says.

"We may need your, um, first hand account." Oh. Now I'm really nervous. Tamara and Erik have been pretty good to us, and of course I trust Talla, but confessing to murder wasn't really on my calendar today. The Alchemist pats me on the shoulder and grins.

"You'll be fine. This isn't the time to shrink. Noblewomen are like wild animals—they can sense your fear."

"Hey..." Rara grumbles. I chuckle and shake my head.

"Alright, let's do this then." * Despite Al's attempts at reassurance, I'm tense as we enter the manor's sitting room. The first thing I notice is that familiar ear-popping sensation as we step in—like the room where we met Arelii. That can't be a coincidence. There's some sort of magic in these rooms and if I had to guess, it probably has something to do with privacy. Tamara, Erik, and Faarah are already waiting. Even after living here for a while, I still get caught off guard by the lack of tables and chairs.

Rather than the grand meeting table or board room my imagination conjures up, they're seated on a circle of cushions on the floor. There are no "sides," no head of the table, and nothing between them but a few untouched snacks and some wine that they've definitely been taking advantage of. It's unexpectedly cozy for the occasion—almost intimate. The low orange light of the mana stones along the walls give the setting a candlelit quality, but without the flickering shadows.

Depending on the context, the lighting could be anything from romantic to sinister. Erik makes a show of decanting a new bottle of wine into a carafe as we enter, pouring glasses for each of us as we take our seats. Without a table to sit around, there's not much separation between us at all, but out of habit I still take note of where everyone sits. Talla between her mother and Faarah, the Alchemist with a bit of space between him and anybody else, then me.

As much as I'd like to sit with Talla, there's no room there, forcing me next to the Alchemist on either Erik's side or Faarah's. It... probably doesn't matter, but I'm prone to overthinking these things, especially when I'm nervous. I go with my gut and take the spot that feels most comfortable, between Faarah and the Alchemist. Nobody—my headmates included—comments when I immediately take a deep gulp from the wine glass in front of me.

"Lady Tamara Goa Baanu, Lady Faarah Foren, Lord Erik Goa Baanu," Al nods to each of the nobles in turn, aside from Talla.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet you all. As you are doubtless aware, I am the man they call 'The Alchemist.'""I had hoped to meet you in more auspicious circumstances," Tamara sighs, taking a sip of her wine.

"Will you be gracing us with a name, or are you intent on maintaining secrecy even after finally deigning to show yourself?" She's being oddly snippy with him, though from what little I've learned of Fa'aun culture so far, he is sort of like a walking breach of etiquette.

"My name isn't germane to the conversation," he replies airily.

"Actually, part of it might be, but for the moment please just call me 'Al.' Oh! Because of [Alchemist] haha! How cute." That earns him blank stares from everyone but me and Talla, and I bury my face in my palms. Did he really just figure that out now, or is he putting on a show of being scatterbrained? It feels fake to me.

"Great. We're all acquainted then," Faarah huffs.

"Sir Al, your products have been an invaluable asset for my order, but I confess—I'm not sure what you're doing here. Ranger Talla suggested you have something to contribute, and I trust her judgment, but I'd like to hear what that is before we proceed." Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. I catch a tiny twitch from Tamara at Faarah using the honorifics of her order rather than Talla's title, but she doesn't interrupt as all eyes now turn to Al.

I take another sip of wine as he responds.

"In order for me to answer that, I need to make sure our goals are aligned," he says.

"I've lived a long time, and I can't know which answers are most salient unless you explain the purpose of this meeting. What, exactly, are we trying to accomplish here?" The room's attention shifts once more, and I'm about to take another sip of wine when I realize that the glass is as full as it started. I slide my gaze slowly over to Erik, sitting innocently with the carafe on the floor in front of him. Oh, he's good. With a heavy sigh, I set my wine glass down and start paying closer attention.

Tempting as it may be, I can't afford to get drunk here. A shame too, this is good stuff.

"Our goal is the same as anyone else's," Tamara replies smoothly.

"Justice. Lady Kiera's death was a tragic accident caused by her own negligence and overconfidence. Sir Draga upheld his duties to the best of his ability and cannot be blamed."

"Which is why they're trying to put it on me instead," Faarah grumbles.

"The entire core of their case is that 'the best of his ability' isn't enough. That his position in the order is an error on my part, and the ultimate reason for Priestess Kiera's death." Al nods sagely.

"And in either case, the result is the same, yes? Either Draga pays for the Gaa scion's death with his life, or you pay for it... with his life." Tamara gestures at him with her palm up.

"You have the crux of it." Hearing it all spelled out so clearly like this hurts. I'm used to the idea of "innocent until proven guilty" but that doesn't exist here. Innocent or guilty isn't even the question. The question is "Should Draga die?" and the burden is on us to prove that the answer is no.

"Well, then I believe the one with the most complete information has a suggestion," the Alchemist says, turning to look at me. I'm glad I stopped drinking, because otherwise I'd be shooting wine out of my nose.

"M-me?!" I squeak.

"I don't feel like I know anything."

"You were there when it happened," he argues.

"You've heard Lady Goa's perspective, Lady Gaa's perspective, Faarah's, and mine. You don't have the entire picture, but you have more of it than anybody else. If you lay it out for us, we can begin to fill in the gaps."

"I..." I hesitate.

"All I've done is talk to people. It's not like I've checked all their stories against each other or tried to piece it all together."

"I have," Violet says.

"The Alchemist is right. If we assemble as much of the puzzle as we can, it will let them connect their own pieces."

"[Are you sure you can do it?]" I mutter quietly, slipping into our own language even though it's useless in front of Talla and Al.

"[With the language and all?]""I've been practicing too," she sighs.

"And I'm not doing it alone. I've got all of you to help me, and Talla to translate if necessary. Earlier you said we don't do anything on our own. You're right. I can't do this, but we can."

"Okay," Allie sighs.

"Good luck." Despite myself, I take a drink of wine to steady myself. It's... not that bad, though I still hate the taste of alcohol. It takes the edge off of my anxiety, just a bit. I'm no Maggie, but this still makes me nervous. I'm not used to my voice being important.

"Allie?" Talla calls nervously.

"Is everything okay?"

"No," I sigh.

"And it's Violet right now. I may need some help translating so bear with me please. I'll start at the beginning..." For the first time since arriving in this world, we sit down to relive... everything. Our entire experience, from beginning to end. I don't tell them all of it. There are parts that I'm neither able nor willing to explain—like the odd 'voice' that helped us through the early moments—but otherwise, I give as complete an accounting as I'm able.

As I do, the others begin to fill in some of the gaps—starting much sooner than I expected." [Angels] are spiritual entities that maintain the [World Engine]," the Alchemist states matter-of-factly.

"If you met one in the flesh, then you weren't actually 'in' the world yet. You were in a little bubble of latent space, which the [Angel] was inspecting before it could be realized." The nobles blink at the Alchemist, as surprised by his explanation as I am. I turn a questioning glance to Talla, who fidgets uncomfortably.

"That's a theory," she hedges.

"We do know that convergence points are intersections between so-called 'latent space' and reality. The role of [Angels] in that process is, um, unsettled."

"The orthodoxy doesn't like that their ultimate avatars of the Goddess' will are actually just cosmic janitors," the Alchemist drawls.

"That's heresy, Sir Al," Talla grinds out.

"No, sweetheart, it's blasphemy," he replies.

"I believe in the Goddess as much as anybody—I'd be a fool not to—but the church? Them, I'm not so confident in." That's a sentiment pretty similar to what Talla herself expressed to us back in the dungeon, but she doesn't look happy to see it reflected back at her. Before it can go any further, I just press on with the story, only to be interrupted again a few moments later.

"A walking skeleton?!" Faarah gasps.

"How is this the first time I'm hearing about evidence of Blood magic in this convergence point?!" Talla winces.

"There was so much to worry about that I'd sort of forgotten about it."

"Blood magic?" I ask curiously.

"The forbidden domains," the Alchemist explains." [Blood], [Acid], and [Chaos], each of them technically supported by the [World Engine] but deemed by polite society to be too vile or dangerous to allow people to pursue."

"Chaos is not a domain," Talla corrects him.

"It is, by definition, outside of the [World Engine]'s support and against the Goddess' will."

"Is that so?" he asks with a smirk.

"My mistake, then."

"There are other forbidden domains as well," Talla continues.

"But those are the big ones that everybody knows." That certainly explains the curse, I suppose.

"Okay. Blood magic. Anything else I should know about the skeleton?" I ask. The Alchemist raises his hand gleefully.

"Oh! Yes, actually. It was mine." I blink.

"What?"

"I told you, didn't I? When I was torn from this world, I came back a corpse," he reminds me.

"That was the corpse. My apologies for the stab wound—I'm surprised that it was still around." Once more, the entire room is stunned into silence. I rub at my temples and resist the urge to take another drink.

"He's enjoying this," Allie tells me.

"For all his secrecy, he actually really likes being the center of attention, shocking and offending everyone. I bet he keeps himself hidden because he can't help himself." Lovely. Our best chance at answers is a primadonna who's as likely as not to make everybody even angrier. I'm really second-guessing this entire idea, but we've come this far already.

I manage to get through the rest of our time in the convergence point without much more than some passing comments about how lucky I was that the demon was such a cautious predator, then we come to the truly difficult part. Our escape, and what happens next. I don't want to say it. I don't want to talk about it or even think about it. The worst moment of my entire life—our most traumatic experience.

"That is when we met Lady Kiera," I mutter shakily. Lady Goa's eyes flash, and her expression goes flat.

"Met. You'met' Lady Kiera? As in, while she was still alive?" Faarah's expression falls and she mutters an oath under her breath.

"Blood and acid..." I hug my arms around myself and shudder, and I can vaguely feel Allie's presence trying to comfort me with a hug.

"Yeah," I admit. It's going to be a really long night.