AN: Whoo, now we're getting to the fun part :3c

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Chapter 4:

Falkner was a nosy person by nature. Too much so for his own good, at times. He would admit that. After being abandoned by his parents and what happened to Fletcher's own, he had learnt to take note of the subtle and minor incidences around him.

And after what happened today, his instincts were on high alert.

Bryce seemed to think everything was just a string of strange events. Coincidences. Or just bad luck. To Falkner, however, they were suspicious. He did not say as much to Varuna, but he had picked up on the strangeness of it all.

What truly piqued Falkner's suspicion, however, was that necklace that was thrusted upon them by the guy Bryce saved from drowning. He only managed a glimpse of it, but it was enough.

The necklace was not gaudy. Rather simple, actually. But the pendent was in the form of a small shield. And, somewhat surprising to Falkner himself, he thought he recognised it. It reminded him of a crest. A family crest. Located above the security gate of a long-abandoned mansion. In the middle of town, no less.

That was where he was headed.

And he probably should not head to the place alone. But Durriken needed Telem more than he did. He was not about to pull the two apart to follow a hunch. Besides, he just wanted to have a quick look. Maybe snoop around a bit.

Just a little bit.

After a few minutes of walking around, he finally reached the outskirts of what used to be the upper-class part of the city. It was often referred to the old part of town these days. The well off moving elsewhere, for what reason he had not a clue. Too much time and money, he supposed.

Moving along the quiet streets, he took note of the numerous old estates that were sanctioned off by large, but decaying and broken security fences and gates. A few of the old mansions had been repurposed into boarding houses or cheap-rent inns. But for many, they were left abandoned. Which was a shame as the buildings could have been used in other ways. Apartment blocks, even.

But some people preferred to let things rot and decay rather than to give them away.

The street had numerous such estates. And honestly, it made the area a little creepy. Even in the middle of the day.

There did not appear to be anyone else around.

He continued to walk in silence, pausing out the front of each rusted front gate in hopes of spying the name or symbol that the estate once stood for. Finally, he found the place he had set out to find.

A stone wall, seven feet in height, draped in clinging ivy vines and patches of vivid green moss, was broken only by the steel security gate. The gate was in surprisingly good shape, with a name engraved upon a steel plate. A name that was faded, but legible; Adalbern. And held an emblem in the form of a shield.

It looked just like that necklace.

It was a rather distinct crest. It was the only one (so far and that Falkner was aware of) that was in the form of a shield, with a lightly reflective material in an oval indentation within the centre.

The name Adalbern did not ring any bells in Falkner's head. He was not well learned of the history of Tharsis. He simply recognised the emblem because he found it curious. It was really the only one with the street of empty and decaying mansions that was in relatively good condition.

Falkner took a moment to glance up and down the street. Still empty. Probably for the best. He then turned back to the gate, immediately noting that a few of the steel bars were malformed and bowed. It should be big enough for him to slip through.

He had one goal for his little trip. That pendent had illuminated the moment Bryce touched it. Why?

It was surprisingly easy to slip inside the building, the front door already partly open. So simple that Falkner felt his suspicion and paranoia increase. A voice in the back of his head told him to turn around and leave. But he pressed forward, regardless. He had questions. And the mansion may hold answers to some of them.

Or bring about more questions.

As expected, the place was a mess inside. Though, not as bad as Falkner had originally thought. Most of the smaller furniture and knickknacks were gone, likely pilfered for money. But the large pieces, like bookcases and fine oak tables remained.

It had been vandalised, though. Hardly a surprise. Such needless destruction. Vandals were such disrespectful little shits, honestly. They would not like it if someone did that to their property, they would be the first to complain and not see the irony.

Never mind that for now, though. He needed to keep looking for something of interest.

With nothing of note on the first floor, Falkner slowly and carefully crept his way up the stairs. They felt sturdy, but all it took was one weak, rotten board to bring a lot of needless pain.

Stepping out onto the top landing, he took a moment to inspect his surroundings. Surprisingly, the second floor did not seem as vandalised as the first. And the light was brighter, which was a good thing. Looking to his left, he noted a partly open door. As a good a place to restart his investigation as any.

However, as Falkner pushed open the door and stepped over the threshold, he felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. Papers were scattered across the floor. They look...fresh, for a lack of a better word. Someone had clearly entered this room recently and ripped to shreds several books, and just decarded the shreds of paper to the floor. Something that had to have been done in a rage.

Wonder what was on those papers...

He slowly stepped into the room, floorboards creaking under his feet, prompting a wince from him. He pressed forward and knelt to the floor. The papers were yellow in colour. Clearly quite old. Likely for as long as the mansion had been abandoned.

He reached forward and picked up a crumbled piece of paper. It was in a fragile state, so he carefully peeled back the corners and squinted at the faded lettering.

'What has she done? She has ruined everything, that is what she has done! To have an affair was one thing, but to bare the child of another man is something else entirely!'

Ah, family drama. The words were obviously written in anger. Falkner could not imagine being from such a prominent family; bickering, drama, jealousy, and feuds.

The other pieces of paper probably held other titbits of family drama. As much as he could care less about the politics of noble families, someone was obviously mad enough to sought out these books. And attempt to destroy them.

He had better read the other scraps. They might hold something significant.

'I do not place the blame upon Jenella for she is just an innocent child, but she is still the product of her mother's affair. The manifestation of her mother's lies and betrayals. She cannot be a Adalbern. She cannot be the heir. The keepers would not allow it.'

Keepers? Probably just a fancy name for a family hierarchy. A tad pretentious.

Though, he did feel sorry for this Jenella. She was an innocent in the whole fiasco, but she would have to endure the consequences of her mother's actions. Children should not have to bear that. But noble families will do what noble families do.

'That woman is infuriating. A mistake is not what she had done. She made a series of selfish, vile decisions that led to her lying to her family's faces for fifteen years. What kind of woman would do such a thing? Every day for fifteen years, she lied. And she continues to lie...'

Falkner wondered who the author of these notes was. They were obviously close to the centre of the debacle.

Glancing down at the piles of shredded papers, one piece stood out. It was not crumbled the same way the other notes were. And the words written upon the paper were of an elegant scrawl. Yet...there was a sense of anger, regardless.

'I have no love for the Adalbern family. They are simply an end to a means.'

Ah, that was probably from the woman at the centre of the family drama. She sounded charming.

'Jenella is the true heir. I do not care if that so-called enchanted necklace did not indicate her as the heir. How dare the Adalberns turn against me? I am the best thing that has ever happened to this wretched family.'

Falkner could not help but roll his eyes at the sheer entitlement written in the short note.

However, he frowned a moment later as something dawned upon him.

Wait, the necklace, a supposedly enchanted one, 'indicates' the true heir? Was that what happened when Bryce touched it? That could mean several things, the most prominent being the possibility that Bryce was...the Adalbern heir?

That...was not entirely out of the question. Bryce did not know who his father was nor did he care to find him, and he cared little for his mother to even ask. The family estate, Adalbern, may have disintegrated, but that did not mean the family died out. They were sure to have ancestors milling about, living their lives, completely unaware of their heritage.

He set the piece of paper down. No, he could not jump to conclusions like that. He needed to do a bit more snooping around.

A sharp and sudden creak caused Falkner to stiffen, snapping his head up, alarmed and alert. He immediately stood up but stopped himself from moving from his place too quickly. The floorboards had creaked when he entered the room. He could not risk it again.

But he could not remain standing there in full sight, either. Especially when the noises were recognised to be that of footsteps. Two of them. And they were walking quickly up the stairs.

Shit...

With his heart racing, Falkner lurched forward and ducked behind the door and pressed his back against the wall. He held his breath when those footsteps drew closer. Time seemed to still as they move toward the open doorway, giving Falkner an eternity to pray that they did not notice the partly opened door was now open.

The footsteps moved passed the door, never faltering in their strides.

Falkner resisted the urge to sigh with relief. He did not know who they were. They could just be a pair of random, nosy urban explorers. But they could also be someone he did not want to tangle with alone. Better to be safe than sorry.

He kept still until he heard the sound of a door creaking open only to be slammed shut a few seconds later. Only then did he allow himself to breath normally. He estimated that the mystery duo had moved into the next room. He needed to be careful.

Hm. There was a balcony attached to the room. Maybe he could use that to escape. Or to eavesdrop on the conversation in the next room. The glass doors were closed, however. So, he had to be extra careful,

Slowly, Falkner crossed the floor, carefully stepping around the pieces of paper, and finally reached the doors. His instincts were on high alert as he switched between glancing over his shoulder and inspecting the balcony's lock. It was a simple lock, thankfully. A key was not necessary.

Still, he could not help but wince when the clock slid open with a telling click. He drew in a deep breath as he worked on pushing open the door. The hingers were definitely rusted, so put up a fight. And it took an agonisingly long time for him to force open a gap big enough for him to slip through.

Finally, the gap was big enough and Falkner wasted no time slipping through. He remained cautious, however, especially when he heard voices.

He immediately glanced over to his left. The window to the next room was open.

His curiosity would not let him leave just yet. Stupid, probably, and he would likely curse himself out later. But he would hang around for a few more seconds. Just to sedate his curiosity.

Falkner crouched down next to the window, using his forearm to lean against the wall. He did not risk look inside. If he could see them, there was a chance they could see him, too.

There were two voices. Both masculine, though one was deeper and gruffer than the other. Both had a rather elegant tone to their voices. One wispy and quiet. The other stern and terse. A definite leadership quality.

"And he activated the necklace?"

"That is what Talon tells me, yes."

"I see. And where is this man now?"

"He's at the inn."

"Is he alone?"

"Yes, it appears so."

Were they talking about Bryce?

"Can I help you with something?" someone with a gruff voice asked, accompanying it with something cold pressed to the back of his neck. A knife or sword. A weapon. Something that could cause a lot of damage to him.

Damn it. To be snuck up on so easily.

So, with a curse uttered in his head, Falkner lifted his hands in a surrendering motion. He stood up and turned around, purposely keeping his movements slow and cautious. And he came face to mask with a familiar figure; muscular form in a red and white mask, dressed in an open, sleeveless shirt with a hood over his head.

The same guy that tried to attack Bryce at the riverside.

Falkner could probably make a quip about being lost or something generic, but with the guy holding the weapon, he was unlikely interested in a bout of wits.

The guy tilted his head up and down, taking in the sight of him before he motioned to his left with a sharp jerk of his head. Where the door was situated. The very same that Falkner had escaped through.

With his hands still raised, Falkner moved to where he was directed, the guy moving behind him. Running would be stupid and futile. He had seen what the guy was capable of.

And he may as well find out who or what the guy was working for.

"Stop," the guy suddenly ordered the moment Falkner stepped back into the room.

Falkner did as he was told. He was mildly alarmed when he felt someone grabbed his wrist roughly and pulled it behind his back. He grimaced when his other arm was also twisted behind his back. And his heart leapt into his throat when something coarse and rough was quickly wound around his wrists.

Rope. They were restraining him.

A harsh shove with a hand between his shoulder blades forced Falkner to start walking once more. When he reached the hallway, he received another shove toward the room across from him.

The room appeared to be some kind of entertaining area. A small podium elevated a third of the room. Like a stage. Old curtains framed the stage, with a red velvet chair situated right in the centre, where several more chairs were positioned in front of.

And it was one of those chairs that Falkner was pushed toward.

"Why are you here?"

"I was just wondering who was messing around at this place," Falkner tried as he dutifully sat down. "It's been empty for a few years, after all."

Naturally, the guy did not believe him. And Falkner knew why. Best to drop the friendly act.

"I know you're that so-called detective," he revealed.

"Oh?" He did not need to see the guy's face to know that his eyebrow was arched in a sceptical manner.

Falkner idly tugged at his bindings. "I recognised your voice. Just like how I recognised the necklace to be the very same crest as this mansion."

The guy was silent at first. However, he uttered a harsh snort and reached up with a single hand to pull the mask from off his face. And the face that greeted him was indeed that so-called detective. Findlay, if that was his real name.

"Is that so? Fancy yourself a bit of a detective, too, hm?"

No. Just highly curious and protective. "That sketch of yours is what made me suspicious in the first place. Are you after Bryce or just everyone that looks like him?"

Findlay suddenly rested a hand on the back of Falkner's chair and leaned in close to his face. "You ask a lot of questions for someone who quite literally the prisoner here in this situation."

"Talon," a voice that was both new and one that Falkner had heard before. "Who are you talking to?"

So, Findlay was not his real name. Figured as much.

Talon straightened his posture as he turned toward the door, and Falkner followed his gaze. Two men strode into the room, one tall with ashen white hair, styled similarly to those of nobility, and piercing red eyes. The other was notably more slender, with snow-white hair and icy blue eyes. The taller of the two wore the clothes similar to that of a nightseeker, while the other was dressed in runemaster robes.

The two men immediately turned their attentions toward Falkner, though did not falter in their steps, moving deeper into the room.

The (assumedly) nightseeker walked upon the stage and promptly sat down in the velvet chair. Where he proceeded to look down at him in contempt. "And this man is...?"

Falkner resisted the urge to arch an eyebrow. Sat upon a podium, huh? Who was this guy? Rather, who did he think he was?

"The companion of the one we're really after," Talon promptly answered, with a slight bow. "Lord Denzil."

Lord? What a pretentious prat.

"Ah, just as Naseer had expected. And how fortunate for us," Lord Denzil uttered as he rested an elbow on the arm of the chair and clicked his fingers arrogantly with his other.

Falkner tensed when Talon suddenly stepped away. He had not a clue what Denzil just ordered of him, but he was fairly sure he wasn't going to like it.

He tugged at the ropes around his wrists as his mind reeled with desperate solutions to get himself out of his current predicament. He could not think of anything, though. Nothing. Fighting one would be difficult enough. But three, while handicapped? Not a chance.

What should he do?

"Smile."

A bright flash of light pulled Falkner from his thoughts, and he winced. He immediately turned to his left, and found Talon stood there, with a contraption in his hands. That looked like a rare polaroid camera.

Did he just...?

"What-?" Falkner spluttered.

"Just a little incentive to convince your friend to comply," Talon answered far too casually as he pulled out a white square. With a picture on it. A picture of him...

It was a camera!

"What are you going to do with that?" Falkner asked, unable to hold back his worry. "Get him to comply with what?"

Talon smirked at him. "Total surrender."

That simultaneously did not answer anything but said a lot. "What do you want with Bryce?"

Talon suddenly snared Falkner's chin in his hand. "You're going to be lucky enough to find out for yourself."

Falkner gritted his teeth and twisted his head to the side, dislodging his chin from a smirking Talon's grip.

God damn it, he had not planned for any of this...

... ... ... ... ...

Bryce slung Blayden's knapsack over his shoulder as he moved from the inn and out into the streets of Tharsis. He felt better after having a shower and was dressed in a fresh set of clothes.

God, what a hectic morning it had been. A strange detective, a runaway carriage, Blayden almost been run over, Blayden receiving medical treatment, the hunt for the runaway carriage, followed by saving a guy from drowning, only to be attacked by some rando masked guy after a strange necklace.

The rest of the day had better be quiet.

"Hey."

Bryce idly turned his head to the side to look to his left, down an alleyway between two buildings. His glance was idle, merely out of instinct. But the figure that stood in the middle of the alley immediately made him stop. And become tense.

Damn, that masked asshole again.

"What? Here for a second round?" Bryce snapped, his body becoming tense as he reached for his sword. Paranoia made him grab it on the way out of his room, but now he was glad that he did.

The guy did not move, however, which only served to both disturb and irritate Bryce.

"I'm not here to fight you. I don't need to."

Bryce arched an eyebrow "Oh? What has you so confident?"

The masked man took a step forward. "You see, I've found the perfect way to ensure your submission."

That sounded ominous.

"You're bluffing," Bryce retorted.

"Is it worth the risk? If that's not enough, then maybe this will convince you." The guy suddenly flicked a piece of paper toward him, it landing at his feet. "He look familiar?"

Bryce did not want to take his eyes off the masked asshole as he knew some of his skills, and he was honestly no laughing matter. But he needed to know what he was referring to. So, he glanced down at his feet. And his eyes widened.

It was not just a piece of paper. It was a photograph. Of someone sat in a chair, arms pulled behind his back, clearly restrained.

Falkner?!

"What the fuck have you done to Falkner?" Bryce immediately snapped, acting aggressively to hide his concern.

He could not see the fucker's face, but he knew he was smirking. "Come along to find out."

...God damn it, what choice did he have?