The Diplomat & The Memory Merchant Part 1

Merlin arrived at Peculiar Investigations headquarters to find the team preparing for travel.

"There you are!" said Hal gruffly. "We've got an assignment escorting a foreign diplomat to the royal city for some treaty signing. Pack for at least a week's journey."

Soon they set off on horseback, making good time along the king's road. Merlin took in the changing scenery as they traveled farther from the city into the frontier. Open grasslands gradually gave way to scattered woodlands then dense forest.

At night, they camped beneath the stars. Quill would identify constellations and recount myths behind each one. Josephine gathered wildflowers that bloomed along the roadside, tucking them gently into her traveling satchel.

On the third day, they reached the bustling port town of Saintsbury. Colorful flags and banners snapped in the brisk sea breeze as ships came and went from docks piled high with cargo. Exotic smells of foreign spices and sounds of myriad languages filled the salty air.

Hal led them to the harbormaster's office, where they were greeted by a barrel-chested man with a graying beard.

"Ah, you must be the escort party!" he boomed jovially. "Lord Westbury's ship arrived this mornin'. I'll take you to meet His Lordship presently."

He led them to a lavish inn near the waterfront. There, servants were unloading ornate trunks and furnishings from an elegant carriage parked outside.

The harbormaster announced their arrival, and a tall, dignified gentleman descended the stairs to greet them. Lord Westbury had an air of refinement about him, impeccably dressed with greying hair and sharp green eyes that took their measure.

"Thank you for granting me the honor of your safe passage," he said with a genteel smile and slight bow. His voice carried a musical accent. "Please, relax and enjoy the hospitality of my retinue while I finish some business in town."

Merlin was assigned a plush room upstairs. That evening, the team was invited to dine with Lord Westbury. The diplomat proved an animated conversationalist, regaling them with tantalizing descriptions of his distant homeland.

"...fields of emerald grain stretching as far as the eye can see, dotted with scarlet poppy flowers." He smiled wistfully. "I do miss the beauty of my country, but look forward to seeing the splendors of your cities."

Later, Merlin confided quietly to Quill that their charming guest seemed almost too genteel. His manners verged on affectation. But Quill just chuckled.

"He's a career politician, Merlin. I'm sure much of his behavior is cultivated to forge alliances."

The next morning, they departed Saintsbury in Lord Westbury's ornate carriage, bound for the capital. The diplomat insisted they sample the delicacies he'd brought from overseas.

"These confections are made from a rare flower that only blooms one week a year," he explained, offering gilded boxes. "Please, I insist you try some."

As they traveled onward, Merlin found Lord Westbury quite agreeable company. His tendency to steer conversations back to himself seemed a harmless quirk of ego.

On the fifth day, spires of the distant royal city came into view. Lord Westbury leaned eagerly from his window.

"Soon I shall meet your king and finalize our treaty," he declared. "I do hope my efforts may bring lasting prosperity between our peoples."

"That's a noble goal," said Merlin. And he meant it sincerely. Looking at this stately man, he felt convinced their countries would find common ground.

They lodged Lord Westbury in the guest quarters of the royal palace, their task complete. The diplomat thanked them profusely for their service.

As Merlin departed, he saw Lord Westbury surrounded by royal officials, back straight, smiling graciously. Yes, this was a man capable of mending old grievances and building new bridges.

Little did Merlin know what revelations the future held about their genteel guest and his hidden nature. But for now, he was simply satisfied in a duty well performed.

A Few Days Later...

Merlin sat at a table in the bustling inn, savoring a hearty breakfast of freshly baked bread, cheese, spiced potatoes and fried eggs. Washing it down with a tankard of cool ale, he gazed out the frosted window at the waking city outside.

People hurried about on morning errands, bundled against the chill air. A few meandering souls seemed in no rush, strolling and window shopping leisurely. Merlin decided a walk was just what he needed to aid digestion and clear his head before another day of adventure.

Donning his cloak, Merlin stepped outside, breathing deep the mingled scents of baked goods, churned earth and smoke from hearth fires. He wandered aimlessly, weaving through narrow lanes, nodding to the occasional passerby. Rain the night before left puddles dotting the cobblestones that reflected the emerging sun.

At a crowded market square, a drove of pigs bound for slaughter jostled by, adding muddy hoofprints to the wet ground. Merlin smiled as a small girl chased after them, trying to sneak a snack from their feed bags. The simple joys of ordinary life continued all around, heedless of magical mysteries and peculiar intrigues.

Nearing the textile district, Merlin encountered a lanky, familiar figure examining some cloth samples at a stall.

"Quill!" Merlin greeted warmly. The scholar looked up from scrutinizing a bolt of shimmering satin.

"Merlin, good morning! Just replenishing my supplies of rare spellcasting fabrics. But what brings you out so early?"

"Oh, just stretching my legs after breakfast at the inn," said Merlin. "Care to walk together?"

Quill agreed and they carried on side by side, leaving the bustling textile vendors behind.

"Another busy day ahead for Peculiar Investigations, I imagine," said Merlin lightly.

Quill nodded, but his expression became oddly guarded. "Yes, I've got some intriguing leads to follow up on."

Merlin's curiosity was piqued. "Oh? Anything I can assist with?"

Quill hesitated. "Well...I got wind of a mysterious figure who possesses some very rare and potent artifacts. I thought it prudent to investigate in case such concentrated power is being misused. But the details are highly sensitive."

Merlin's pulse quickened. His friend was clearly embroiled in another peculiar mystery!

"You know you need only ask, and I'll gladly offer whatever help I can," Merlin said earnestly. "Two minds are better than one when unraveling such mysteries."

Quill considered this, then relented with a sigh. "I confess, you may be able to help. But I must warn you that unsavory characters lurk in the shadows where my inquiry leads."

Thrilled at being trusted with confidential details, Merlin clapped the solemn scholar on the back.

"Dear Quill, we have braved countless hazards together! Wherever your path takes us, I remain at your side."

At this, Quill managed a thin smile. "Ever the optimist, Merlin. Let's just take care. Hal has long sought insight on this elusive figure who trades in memories and secrets. Tread softly, stay alert, and do not believe all you see."

Burning with curiosity, Merlin assured his friend he would stay close and keep all senses on high alert. Quill seemed comforted by his stalwart presence.

They soon reached a nondescript alley where Quill glanced around furtively before leading them down the twisting passage. Merlin sensed they neared their mysterious destination. He could scarcely contain his excitement at whatever forbidden knowledge lay just ahead!

The alley maze stretched before Merlin in dizzying twists and turns as he followed close behind Quill. After what seemed an eternity of damp, shadowy passages, they came to a dead-end barred by a heavy iron door. Quill stepped forward and knocked in a peculiar syncopated rhythm then waited in silence.

Moments later, a slit opened in the door and two eyes peered out, scrutinizing the visitors. Apparently satisfied, the slit clanged shut, followed by the grind of metal bolts sliding open. The iron door slowly swung inward with a groan, revealing a dimly lit interior.

"This way," Quill muttered, glancing around warily as he entered. Merlin trailed behind, nerves prickling. What sort of clandestine dealings happened in this hidden place?

As his eyes adjusted to the gloom, Merlin saw they were in a shop filled wall to wall with shelves and illuminated display cases containing rows of faintly glowing crystals. The light pulsated through them in hypnotic rhythms, casting a spectral ambience over the stockroom.

At the far end stood a counter at which a tall, gaunt man was scribbling in a ledger. He looked up at the visitors, and Merlin noticed an almost reverential gleam in his sunken eyes.

"Greetings, friends," he said in a hushed voice. "I see you have found my little establishment. Not many possess the arcane means to locate it. How may I assist you?"

Quill stepped forward. "We've come on official business from Peculiar Investigations. I believe you are acquainted with our leader, Hal?"

The man nodded slowly. "Ah yes, Hal and I have had...mutually beneficial transactions over the years."

He set down his quill and fixed the visitors with an intense stare. "So you are the new fledgling member I have heard whispers of. And you." He nodded at Quill. "Hal's protégé seeker of forbidden knowledge, if I'm not mistaken."

Quill gave a thin smile. "Your reputation for discretion is well known. And it seems little happens in the city's underworld that escapes your gaze."

"Knowledge and memories are my stock and trade," said the merchant quietly. His sunken eyes bored into them. "But memories, like secrets, can be heavy burdens. I provide a release, for a price."

Merlin's gaze roamed over the rows of crystals pulsing with stolen memories. Each one contained a splinter of someone's past, willingly given up or perchance forcibly taken. What terrifying or shameful secrets lay imprisoned within these crystalline lattices? What clues to long buried truths?

As if reading Merlin's thoughts, the merchant said "Some wish to rid themselves of memories too painful to endure. While others..." He gestured to indicate their surroundings "...find my wares valuable in exposing wrongdoers who believe their secrets forever buried."

Quill's expression hardened with purpose. "It is for that purpose we've come. You are aware of the nobleman murdered in his manor a fortnight ago. We believe the culprit came to you to erase an eyewitness's memories of the incident."

The merchant turned swiftly, robes swirling. "Wait here," he commanded. He disappeared through a curtained doorway. Muffled sounds of rummaging followed, then he reemerged clutching a pouched crystal.

"As I thought...this may be the memory you seek." He handled it with an odd reverence, almost fondness. Turning to an intricate device on the counter, he placed the crystal in a receptacle atop it. Gears clicked and spun, accompanied by a rising hum.

A flickering image materialized above the device, like a ghostly three-dimensional scene preserved within the pulsing crystal. Merlin watched in fascination as a shadowy figure crept through a familiar manor then burst into a study, surprising the nobleman at his desk. The attack was swift and vicious. But in the struggle, the assailant's face was momentarily visible. Merlin gasped as recognition hit him like a blow.

"That's the diplomat we escorted here ourselves just weeks ago! He passed through the city after signing the peace treaty." Merlin's pulse pounded with fury and dismay. "I thought him honorable, yet he is naught but a backstabbing murderer!"

Quill's expression matched Merlin's outrage. The merchant looked on with an approving glint in his hollow eyes. "When I harvested this memory from its previous owner, I thought it may bring you closer to avenging that poor nobleman."

Back at Peculiar Investigations headquarters, Merlin slumped in a chair, still stunned by the revelation.

"Take heart," said Quill, placing a hand on his shoulder. "This is not the first time we've found killers conceal themselves behind kind faces and deeds. Now we can bring justice to the victim...and expose the diplomat as the villain he is."

Merlin nodded, but unease still twisted his stomach. That decorated diplomat had seamlessly played the part of dignitary while secretly committing murder. What other deceitful memories did the merchant's trove contain? What if crystals stored there held the key to Merlin's own clouded past?

As if reading his thoughts, Quill said "I know the notion of extracted memories unsettles you. But try not to dwell on it."

He paused before continuing delicately. "I know you have no recollection of your early years. But the emptiness of not knowing your past is preferable to having memories of evils committed or suffered. Focus instead on looking ahead."

Comforted by his friend's wisdom, Merlin resolved to follow where the path of Peculiar Investigations led, rather than lose himself chasing shadows of a past forever beyond his reach. Some doors were best left unopened.