A debt to collect (1.2)
Our home seemed as ordinary as any average house in Stavenger. Everything was built with granulated concrete that concealed the reinforcement seals I had applied to its thin core. The first room was a vast hall with large windows on two walls, revealing the sea on the horizon and refined furniture I had copied from the castle of the Cassinger kingdom, undoubtedly the most ostentatious place. Further on was our kitchen, then the dining room, a guest room, a small storage, and at the back, stairs leading up to our rooms. But all of that was just a facade that my master had granted me the honor of embellishing. Our true refuge lay beneath the cliff upon which we stood, hidden behind a seal that only we could manipulate.
My master used to lock himself in his underground laboratory for long hours. Sometimes he examined corpses, sometimes he conducted experiments with strange substances or mysterious apparatus. I left our guest in the hall and turned with the intention of heading towards the basement, but I was surprised to find a hooded figure on the other side of the room. He wore a light trench coat soaked with coagulated blood, and in his hands were still the tools he used for his autopsies. This sight made our guest very tense, worsened by the terrible thunder and lightning that followed, but I managed to calm her with my own composure and immediately bowed. I said nothing. I raised the blood to clean her clothing and approached a little closer to do the same with the floor. The woman hesitated for a moment, but finally decided to remove her hood, revealing the refined face that I had already sensed. She had large, youthful eyes adorned with a beautiful brown iris. Her mouth and nose were small, and her face was round. She had an indifferent expression, but the muscles on her forehead revealed a hint of concern.
My master removed all his superficial clothing, then dressed in his characteristic dark nolet with an imperial cut and his hood hanging behind his back. He looked at us peacefully as he rolled up his sleeves. His cerulean eyes were as penetrating as one can imagine, as deep as an abyss, and so expressive that they paralyzed you, trying to dissect what was in his head. His enemies attributed them to a nature corrupted by inexplicable malevolence. I, on the other hand, considered those the most beautiful eyes I had ever encountered. He adjusted a strand of black hair that had fallen on his forehead and looked at me. I began by reminding him of the favor we owed to Baron Boldrus as I dragged his equipment to the kitchen. My master's energetic eyes scrutinized every possible detail of that lady in a matter of seconds, analyzing in moments what the common man easily ignored, then nodded without asking for more explanations.
—Please, have a seat —said my master in that energetic tone he used with strangers—. I am Asmodeus, and she is my pupil, Abigail. I hope this modest home of ours does not discomfort you, nothing worthy of a noble like yourself.
I managed to return in time to see the surprise on our guest's face. She asked what he had said and tried to say something else, but my master interrupted her.
—I can tell, by the sleeves of your inner garment protruding from your nolet, that you are accustomed to a more elegant life than that of the adventurer you are trying to imitate... Or at least that was the case until three days ago when you received such terrible news that brought you here from the Port of Durkmon.
The woman leaned back in her seat while looking at us with disbelief.
—What do you know about me? —she asked.
—Port of Durkmon, you come from there, as I see it —my master leaned back in his seat while flashing a friendly smile—. Nolets are typical garments throughout Norus, ranging from the simplest for adventurers to the most sophisticated for nobles; but they adapt to the tastes of each kingdom and region. Nolets from the Port of Durkmon are worn like capes, with a square cut in the front, circular at the back, and the hood sewn in a triangular shape. You wanted to travel incognito, taking on the local attire of an adventurer. That's how you revealed your origin to me. But let's not dwell on that and explain to me what is happening with your family.
The woman remained silent after that last comment. It was not possible for my master to know so much about her with just a glance. It was easier to suspect that he had some hidden talent to know all that. My master let her silence calm her before continuing.
—You have no reason to worry because there is nothing extraordinary in my words —he said calmly—. You presented yourself to us at this hour despite the stormy weather. Someone with such urgency should not have made many stops on her journey. An aradan is fast but quite unsafe. A carriage would be too slow. A motheros, on the other hand, offers you speed and security, although at a high price. Knowing that you are a noble, it was easy to assume that money would not be a problem. So, I calculated that it took you about three days to get here from the moment you heard the bad news back in Durkmon. The matter that brings you is as personal as to demand the discretion of a disguise and as urgent as to prevent you from sleeping and make you travel amid the festivities. You sacrificed so much to come before a stranger, which means you have exhausted other possibilities. It's about family. What else could it be? Maybe about your husband, as I see the mark of the bracelet you tried to hide, or maybe, more likely, a child. I didn't read your mind or spy on you; it's just a chain of well-structured reasoning.
The woman remained silent.
—I understand —she said after a few seconds. She sighed as if she had been holding her breath and continued speaking—. I've been told that you are the best option I had to retrieve my daughter.
The woman removed a crimson necklace that hung inside her clothing. That was the artifact that had been camouflaging her energy signature, but also her appearance. First, her brown eyes turned honey-colored, then she went from a brunette to a redhead in a few seconds. Dark circles, dry lips, and nervous micro-gestures from stress also appeared, but even so, her considerable beauty was easy to notice.
My master observed her with great interest at that moment. Conversion stones like the one she had used were as rare as they were expensive, but he said nothing about it. He just smiled and leaned forward. He rested his elbows on his knees and crossed the fingers of his hands, a position he adopted when he wanted to ease the tension in the room and let the other person know that he cared about their words.
—What happened to your daughter? —he asked.