Arriving in a new world where the steam industry was booming, he inherited a three-story apartment on the capital's royal square, took in someone else's cat, and listened to the whispers at his ear, ready to witness this mysterious and bizarre era. The epic of the Sixth Era was about to commence, and behind the curtain, The Chosen One was destined to step into legend. Old Gods, Relics, steam, witches, detectives, ancient secrets, the Era's brilliance... "Would you like to play a round of Roder Cards?" Time engraved the hours, as Silvermoon illuminated the shadows. I compose your legend, you whisper your verses to me.
After the waiter left, Mr. Rondale lowered his voice and asked Shard, his brown eyes looking across the table at the young detective.
"It is I who have been searching for you, I am like you."
Shard thus hinted at his own identity as a Circle Sorcerer, folding his hands together on the table, where a golden candlestick with a burning candle stood between them. The candle, of course, was not for illumination. The gas lamp disguised as a crystal chandelier above was the source of light, and the candle was merely decorative.
The soft yellow light illuminated their faces and allowed them to see each other's expressions.
"I've been looking for a ritual."
Shard also lowered his voice to prevent others from hearing:
"A very ancient ritual, so I need the help of an ancient organization like yours. I bear no malice, otherwise, I would not have revealed my identity."
Mr. Rondale hesitated and nodded: