The heavy oak of Noctis’s front door groaned in protest as I pushed it open, the sound echoing the unease coiling in my gut.
I rushed inside.
“Liora, are you here?” Finnian’s voice, sharp with a frantic edge, cut through the stillness of the house.
He was already a blur of motion, his footsteps thudding upstairs as he searched each room, his hope a palpable, desperate thing.
“She isn’t here.” Noctis’s voice, calm as ever but with an underlying steel, came from the doorway of the main living area.
“Let’s talk in the sitting room.”
My chest tightened, the familiar ache of Liora’s absence settling in.
A sliver of hope, a stubborn ember, had flickered against the grim probability, but I’d suspected as much.
I was really wishing… if only she hadn’t been so stubborn, or perhaps if we’d understood her desperation better…
I sank into one of the plush chairs in the sitting room, its velvet cool against my skin.
Several minutes dripped by in a heavy silence, each of us lost in our own vortex of thought, the air filled with unspoken fears.
Finally, Adrix, who had been staring blankly at the intricate patterns of the rug, broke the quiet, his voice a low mumble.
“We told her not to use her magic.”
“Yes,” Noctis replied, his gaze distant, fixed on some point beyond the window.
“But you know Liora. Her compassion often overrides her caution. We should have anticipated this.”
“How were we to know someone would be so grievously injured right before her eyes?” I chimed in.
“We couldn’t have predicted such a cruel twist of fate.”
“True,” Noctis conceded, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes.
“There’s no point dissecting past mistakes now. We need to focus on our next move. The likelihood is high that she was kidnapped.”
The bald statement hung in the air, the acceptance of it a fresh weight on my already burdened shoulders.
“Any ideas?”
“Amelia?” Adrix suggested, his brow furrowed.
“Her network is vast. Perhaps she has information, or knows someone who does.”
“A good idea,” Noctis said, the first spark of action enlivening his posture as he rose.
He walked to an ornate mahogany drawer and pulled out a small, spherical object crafted from what looked like obsidian, cool and smooth.
Setting it on the polished surface of the table, its presence seemed to draw the light from the room.
We all leaned closer, a collective breath held.
“How does it work?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
“It’s simple, yet elegant,” Adrix explained, a hint of academic pride in his tone as he pressed his palm against the crystal.
It pulsed faintly under his touch.
“It calls those it’s linked to. You just need to provide the name.”
He focused, his lips moving silently for a moment.
“Call Amelia.”
Mana, like liquid moonlight, swirled within the crystal, coalescing and then flickering in and out of focus.
Then, a miniature, shimmering figure of Amelia materialized above it, her form sculpted from light.
“Hello,” her voice was clear, though small.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“We did,” I said, the previous quest feeling like a distant memory.
“But that’s not why we’re calling. Something’s happened, Liora is missing, and we were hoping for your help.”
“I can certainly try,” she responded, her ethereal features softening with concern.
“May I ask who the other person is with you? His energy feels… agitated.”
“I’m Finnian,” he said, straightening from his slump, his voice strained but firm.
“We need your help. We believe our companion, Liora, was kidnapped. Do you have any information, anything at all?”
“Kidnappings,” Amelia sighed, the sound like rustling leaves, “are unfortunately a blight upon the capital right now. It often depends on the circumstances. What happened?” she asked, her projected image growing sharper, more serious.
Noctis took the lead, his voice a low, steady rhythm as he recounted the events.
“She’s a healer. Someone was gravely injured, a public spectacle. She couldn’t resist; it’s not in her nature. She healed them, right there, for all to see. Her eyes… they were wide, almost ecstatic with the flow of power. Afterward, she argued with us, a fierce disagreement fueled by her convictions, and then she stormed off.”
“Hmmm,” Amelia said, her miniature hand touching her lip thoughtfully, a gesture so human it was momentarily startling.
“A public display of powerful healing… that would draw unwanted attention. Okay, give me until nightfall. I should be able to gather some whispers.”
I’m impressed, a small part of me admitted.
Despite its ethereal nature, her confidence felt solid, a beacon in our fog of uncertainty.
“Have you searched the city yourselves at all?” she asked.
“No,” Finnian admitted, his gaze dropping to his hands, which were clenched tightly in his lap.
“I’d suggest you do. Familiarize yourselves with Tirilla. It will be useful, regardless. And you never know what stone, when turned, might reveal something unexpected.”
“Alright, we’ll do that. Thanks again, Amelia. We’ll await your call,” Noctis said, a measure of resolve returning to his voice.
“You’re welcome,” she replied, her form shimmering, before the figure dissolved like smoke, leaving the crystal dark and inert once more.
“Let’s head out,” Noctis announced, the command cutting through the lingering gloom.
We followed him, the heavy door closing behind us with a somber thud.
The city of Tirilla hummed with a life that felt alien to our grim purpose.
I forced myself to catalogue the details – the carved lintels above doorways, the faded paint on shop signs, the scent of baking bread warring with something less pleasant from the gutters – anything to distract from the knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach.
A carriage, a black blur of lacquered wood and thundering hooves, suddenly erupted from a narrow side alley, hurtling towards us.
Before I could fully process the imminent danger, Noctis’s hand clamped onto my arm like a vise, yanking me hard against the rough, cold stone of a building.
Pain flared in my shoulder, instantly eclipsed by a surge of white-hot fury as my gaze locked onto the receding vehicle.
Reckless fool! Driving like they owned the street!
Then, just as abruptly, the carriage screeched to a bone-jarring halt further down the street.
Its door swung open with violent speed.
A man, lean and quick, darted from the shadows of a doorway, grabbed a young girl who had been engrossed in a book, and shoved her roughly inside.
The door crashed shut, a sound of brutal finality.
The carriage sped off, leaving only a swirl of dust and a scattering of brightly covered books splayed on the grimy cobblestones where the girl had stood moments before.
“We need to go after it!” I exclaimed, adrenaline a fiery torrent through my veins, momentarily eclipsing even my worry for Liora.
This was happening now.
We broke into a sprint, our boots pounding the uneven stones, spotting a rather dilapidated taxi carriage parked haphazardly by the curb.
“Follow that carriage!” Noctis urged, pressing a heavy gold coin into the startled driver’s palm – enough to ensure speed and discretion.
We scrambled inside, the carriage lurching into motion, my heart hammering against my ribs.
The pursued carriage, a dark shape growing steadily larger, finally veered sharply and stopped before a large, ominous building.
It was a hulking stone edifice; its windows were dark, like vacant eyes, and an unnatural stillness clung to it, as if the usual city sounds dared not intrude.
A faint, metallic tang, almost like old blood, touched the air.
Two masked men, their features completely concealed by dark cloth, emerged with an almost rehearsed efficiency.
They roughly pulled the unconscious girl—her body a limp doll in their grasp—from the carriage, half-dragging, half-carrying her towards the building’s shadowed entrance before disappearing inside.
“Why isn’t anyone stopping this?” I whispered, the words a knot of fear and helpless frustration tightening in my chest.
The street, only moments ago bustling, seemed eerily deserted.
We waited a tense, agonizing minute, the silence stretching thin, before exiting our own carriage.
“Thank you,” Noctis said quietly to our driver, his eyes already scanning the forbidding structure as we approached.
Each step was fueled by a desperate, almost prayerful hope that some clue, some thread, however tenuous, might connect this abduction to Liora.
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