2407 Tull 24, Reshpe

His finger ran through the length of the page, his eyes skimming the list for any names he recognized. Beside him, a similar tome lay open but in its pages sat a different set of names. The musty air of the records room infiltrated his nose, sending him coughing every now and then. Most times, he flicked strands of accumulated dust from his sleeves, his pants, and even his lips. He wouldn't be surprised if he got out of here with some in his hair. Those would be a little bit harder to pick out later on.

Still, he forced his gaze to remain on the pages and his focus to stay sharp. He couldn't believe he only thought of visiting the records room just last night. His talk with Rutoria had sparked something in him, making him figure that if there was anyone in the palace who could tell him what he wanted to know, it was the people whom they see everyday but not really. The people passing them by in hallways, tending to the gardens, and being discreet in all their ways. They were the type of people who have seen everything but were oversighted.

That's why he holed up inside the records room after making up a lie to the warden about seeing what cuisine was used in last year's Jered Azerke. Word would no doubt reach the Grand Monarch, that the Grand Royal has taken an interest in planning the holiday activities and, with that, Jona was alright. That's what he wanted everyone to think, anyway.

After he got the permission, he sifted through stacks upon stacks of records written in parchment then later bound them into tomes. Years. Decades. Centuries. There was an endless amount to them and it would take a millennia to sort through them all. He needed to figure something out, fast.

He had settled into a lone table pushed against the room's thorny walls. Soon, he had thumbed his way through a stack of tomes from the year the Grand Queen was last seen alive and brought them on the table where they awaited to be read. He could vaguely recall the date as it was after he was chased around by a rampaging serodi and before he first got his hair cut shorter than what he liked by the palace barber. Both were embarrassing memories but were of another time. RIght now, he has a job to do.

Getting the current records of palace staff from all the palaces under Dwanzeig was no easy feat. The records room was some of the rooms which knew no order or any system in archiving. Jona had to move piles of tomes out of the way more than once, always succeeding in stirring dust and having it inside his nose. Who thought this was a good idea? That's right. Him.

How long ago was the first hour of the second quarter? No windows lined the room—a rare feat in any of the rooms in the Acosa palace. Perhaps the Grand Monarch was paranoid of someone seeing through the important stuff and had closed it from all prying eyes.

Did Jona count as one? He most certainly hoped he didn't.

The absence of windows—and therefore the view outside—made it harder to tell the time. Without the sun, or even the dark sky brought about by the numerous moons, it was next to impossible to have a feel of time. Not unless one would count all the seconds and minutes but really, who does that?

Now, Jona had been poring through both the current and old records, one from a past long gone and the other from the present. It waa good thing he brought a graphite stick he pilfered from his room and a piece of parchment for the purpose he had intended.

He turned another page and ran his fingers down the list of names. The lines blurred in his vision but he forced himself to squint and understand it. The ones he had read earlier started to muddle in his head.He gritted his teeth. Focus.

A small gasp flew out of his lips when his fingers passed a familiar name he had seen before. His hand paused over the crinkly, yellowing page and read it aloud, under his breath, "Yanda Voldove."

His hands swiped the graphite stick, and with his wide and scrawly handwriting, listed the name underneath the ones he had already found. Now, three names sat on the parchment. Arava Shalkas, Lei Rakrana, and the most recent, Yanda Voldove. How many more were there? These were the ones found in both the record from the time the Grand Queen was alive and the record of the current palace workers. All three were still present in the palace, no doubt seeing him grow up and change.

Where were the others?

Out of curiosity, Jona retrieved the record a year after the Grand Queen's death. An amused but humorless laugh tore off him when he compared the two records, just one year apart. Each and every list was different. The only thing that remained similar were the espionage division. Of course. Eldan and the rest of the division knew something about this.

He flipped through more pages, his eyes remembering the names more clearly now. After the Grand Queen's death, the palace workers were either transferred to other palaces and reserves in Komerry and Telsbury, to the committees in Ansevir, and some even to the stronghold of the Natura in Telsbury and Opreah. What has happened for the Grand Monarch to have to go through such lengths? What did Jona not know about his mother's death?

He shook his head and set the tome away. His fingers yanked the current record in front of him, bringing him back to his first mission. Look for more names. There couldn't only be three. He flipped and read. Flipped and skimmed. As he was nearing the end of both tomes, two more names joined the list. Myrrin Lora and lastly, Feris Medomon.

Jona knitted his eyebrows upon reading the last name. Medomon? It was a well-known family known to contribute many of their clan members to service to the Garden of Remembrance, the only religious temple in Dwanzeig. What has a temple worker to do with the whole debacle?

As soon as the last pages of both records went by, Jona shut them off, stirring more dust which lined the table's surface in a fine layer. He coughed once more, waving his hand in front of his face to prevent more dust from invading his throat. A little more minutes here and he would start tasting it. Ew.

The next step of his plan? Get to these people and talk to them.

Jona leaped off the table and started putting the tomes he had been reading on random stacks and piles, even going as far to slot it somewhere in the middle of the stack. He sucked in a breath to avoid inhaling more unwanted particles dancing in the air. When all evidence pointing to him as to what he was researching was gone, he rubbed his hands together, attempting to remove the fine layer of grime brushing his palms. Then, he ducked out of the records room.

The hallways of the palace now greeted him like a shiny cage. The thorns lining the plants lining the walls looked sharper, pointier. Was it because of the parchment he was holding and the plan at the back of his head? He hoped not. Were there eyes following his every movement? He wouldn't put it past the espionage division to not keep an eye on their Grand Royal. Jona wasn't kidding anyone if he claimed his behavior over the last few weeks didn't change. So...what reason would he provide to justify this change to throw them off their tail?

That's something he'd think about later. His legs had brought him to the back of the palace where the sound of the waterfall was the strongest. It was near the place he used to call Ixy. To his left stood a room he knew to be the servant quarters where they could rest as long as they were in the palace. Their actual homes were scattered all over Acosa.

Jona gritted his teeth and strode inside the quarters. Inside, the compound that greeted him was wide and filled with pavilions, gardens, and a kitchen and a small dining table. If anything, it looked like a small pantry where servants could take a break from their daily duties.

Heads turned as soon as Jona walked in. Whispers followed his wake even though they knew he could hear them perfectly. What was the Grand Royal doing in this place? Well, they'd know soon.

"Excuse me," Jona jogged towards a small girl and probably her mother sitting at the rim of a fountain's base. The statue of a woman standing in the middle of the basin looked a lot like what the artists imagined Wikone to be. On her raised hand, water spewed from a conch horn she held. Jona didn't know if that was ingenious or blasphemy against the goddess.

He noticed the small girl looking up at him with wide eyes, her mother waiting for him to say something. He shook his head to bring his attention to the job at hand. "Do you know where Arava Shalkas is?"

The mother nodded and pointed to the nearest arched exit leading to a corridor. It looked like all the other corridors Jona had passed by. "Third door to the left," she said. "I don't know if he's in."

Jona ducked his head in thanks, no doubt surprising everyone around them, including the mother's daughter. "Thank you," he said. "Wikone's blessings be upon you."

He didn't wait for the woman's reply before tramping to the place she pointed him to. The corridor led straight into the edge of the palace. Wasn't these workers afraid they or their children might make one misstep and plummet to their deaths? Why had the previous nature fairy rulers thought it was a good idea to build the palace in the middle of a death zone?

The third door to the left crept by and Jona stopped in front of it. He was about to rap his knuckles against the twisted branches when they parted before he could. Inside, a voice drawled. "I was told the Grand Royal was coming to see me, a lowly servant," he said. Jona stepped inside as he would step into a sacred place. "What has got your trousers in a twist to come rushing to our quarters?"

Jona cleared his throat and strode past the doorway. He turned a corner and came across a number of objects scattered on the grassy floor. Cups, empty ink bottles, and even toys for children. What happened here?

"I hope you don't mind the mess, Your Grace," he continued. Jona looked to his left and his gaze landed on a man sitting on a three-legged stool, drinking a steaming liquid from his wooden cup. A single, square table caught his elbow as he rested it on the surface. "I didn't have the time to clean up. The visit was too sudden."

Jone shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "I just came to ask a few things. Are you Arava Shalkas?"

The man eyed Jona from head to toe before opening his mouth to grumble, "Yes, Your Grace. Didn't Grani tell you that?"

The woman he asked earlier must have sent a message through the plants' network to reach Arava. Jona blew a breath and tucked his small list into the pocket of his trousers. He didn't need Arava thinking it was a hit list or something.

He approached the table but remained standing. The man didn't move to offer him a seat either. "I was wondering if you could tell me something about a particular day in a particular year?" he asked.

"Stop beating around the bush and spit it out, boy," Arava sipped his drink. Was he aware he could get killed for talking to a royal like this? The man rolled his brown eyes at Jonadrin. "Of course, I know that, punk. Go ahead and report me. I'm so done with this line of work anyway."

Why hasn't he left then? And why was he reading Jona's mind through the plant network around them? Arava didn't react to Jona's most recent thoughts. Just as the man was about to take a sip from his cup once more, Jona opened his mouth. "The Grand Queen's death," he blurted. "I want to know everything that happened during that day. I suppose you were there? Did you perhaps see or hear something?"

Arava's cup stopped millimeters from his lips. Finally, he sighed and set his cup down. "I figured this day would come," he said. "Sit down on the table. I'll tell you what I remember."

Jona followed the invitation and perched on the table's edge. He had to incline his head to one side to avoid brushing his forehead against the planks decorating the low ceiling. Arava sighed and mussed his messy, crimson hair.

"It was a normal day in the gardens. You see, I was a gardener before I was reassigned to the kitchens. The council thought I was good for tending to the plants because of my synnavaim," Arava clicked his tongue and waved his hand in the air. "But that's not the point. I was working in the gardens as usual and I saw the Grand Queen pass by. I greeted her and she greeted me right back. Wonderful lass, I tell you. It's such a shame."

Jona's throat tightened. "Yes," he said. "It's such a shame."

"Anyway, she left the palace that day," Arava said. "As for where she went, I can't tell you. Royals don't disclose such details to us. If only I knew she wouldn't return, I would have stopped her."

"Did you see who was with her?" Jona asked. If this was premeditated murder, there might be someone with her that day.

Arava shrugged. "I was called to the eastern garden by my then-supervisor to tend to the noprary bushes," he said. "I wasn't able to see her leave the premises. I just heard she did leave Acosa. The plants told me that much."

"Did they tell you about who she was with?"

Arava gave an exasperated snort. "She might damn well be alone," he said. "I don't know. I didn't see it nor heard anything about her being with the company. I can't help you there, lad."

Jona frowned. "How about suspicious people in the vicinity?" he said. "Do you remember seeing anyone tailing her or something?"

"What are you implying, Your Grace? That the Queen was murdered?" Arava shook his head. "Don't look for things to blame in a case that has none. It was an accident. Nothing more. If you don't have anything else to bug me for, you can go."

Jona opened his mouth but Arava raised a finger to his face. "I wouldn't want to hear more of this talk," he said. Then, before Jona could protest, he stood up and finished his drink with one gulp. It must have gone cold during their talk. "Now, I have to go and oversee some cooks before they burn your dinner for later. I'll be off, Your Grace."

With that, Arava bowed until his torso was parallel to the ground. Then, he straightened and left the room without ever looking back.

Jona pursed his lips, looking at the cup the man left on the table unwashed. He picked it up and almost screamed when the heat almost scalded his palm. The cup flew out of his hands, thunked against the table's rim, and fell without a sound against the room's grassy floor. Damn, that's hot. Why would he...?

Of course. Arava drank it in one gulp so he could run off and escape the conversation. He clearly didn't want to talk about it but refusing the Grand Royal was a bad idea. Jona picked up the cup and set it in the original position its owner had left it in.

He blew a breath. Okay, first one was a bust. Arava's answers didn't quite ease the curiosity and the out-of-proportion instincts setting off in Jona's gut. He dug the parchment from his pocket and flipped it open at the fold. That was just the first name. He had four more to go.

Jona clenched his jaw. Next stop: Lei Rakrana.