Meanwhile, at the Phantasmagoria Café…

Elena walked up to the storefront, towards Cecelia. The shattered glass upon the snow that had once formed a perfectly good front counter, reeked of gunpowder and necromantic blight.

“Cecelia? That your name, ain’t it?”

Huddling behind the shattered storefront, Cecelia stood up and nodded. There were tears in the gaze of her green eyes as it darted nervously between what remained of her garden and café, and Elena’s approach.

“Yes! Cecelia de Isile…”

“I have a couple of questions, if you don’t mind?” Elena said, slowly and deliberately as she eyed both Cecelia and the door behind her. “I’d ask your ‘young master’, but he’s quite…”

“Dead… you actually did it…”

“Killed him, yeah. I checked twice, to be sure. Now, are you gonna tell me who he is?”

This, much to Elena’s chagrin, was met with nothing but tearful whimpering from Cecelia.

“You’d better start talking, or I’ll…”

Reaching in swiftly, she grabbed Cecelia and hoisted her up by the collar of her blouse.

“Talk, damn you!”

“His name… his name is Lesaire Vhal!” Cecelia squealed as tears flowed down her eyes. “I… I’m an…”

She paused, only to let out a shriek as Elena violently throttled her.

“Acquaintance! He’s always here… for… well, a lot of things!” Cecelia squealed, once again. “He booked the whole café, I didn’t really have a choice, I’m glad…”

“Glad, you say?”

“Yes… you killed him… right?”

“I suppose? I’m not a healer, but he looked pretty dead to me.”

“I never had a choice in any of this, I never…”

Elena released her grip upon Cecelia’s blouse, letting her fall upon the snow.

“Yes… thank you…”

“You’re welcome, I guess?” Elena said, crossing her arms. “Anyway, you oughta tell me…”

Pausing mid-sentence, her voice trailed off into the cold as Cecelia began to cry. Elena frowned, as she thought of the way the girl had reacted in the face of Lesaire Vhal, the half-dragon that was her so-called ‘young master’. That, and the utter terror upon the girl's face when he looked her in the eye, and the freshly-cut scars upon her skin and the damaged clothes she wore.

“Uh… hey.”

Looking up from her sleeves, Cecelia looked silently and tearfully at Elena.

“Sorry about, uh… your café. I’ll help you fix it. Promise. Gold, and all that.”

In response, with tears still in her green eyes, Cecelia looked at Elena in utter bewilderment.

“What are you saying, I don’t understand…”

“What’s more to say?” Elena asked with a smile, extending a gloved hand towards Cecelia. “I’d like to think that we got off on the wrong foot, eh?”

“I suppose…” Cecelia said softly, accepting Elena’s hand to get back up upon her feet. “You’re a sorcerer, and…”

“Hmm?”

“Um… you’re a Vizier of the Eye, aren’t you?”

Elena nodded. She removed the glove covering her left hand, showing Cecelia the etching of an arcane eye that had been carved deeply into the skin just below her knuckles. It was, for all that mattered in the world of Melodia, the Beholder’s Mark. The symbol of the Archon who served as the Eye of Elicia, Nhaka Mezalune, and the absolute authority she wielded within the Archon-held dominions of the Empire of Arcadia, that had been bestowed upon her by Elicia herself.

“I see… you’re a very powerful being, like her!” Cecelia exclaimed. “I saw… how the poison did nothing to you, and how you took all those gunshots like they were nothing!”

With a sheepish grin, Elena scratched absent-mindedly at the back of her red hood.

“It’s nothing, really. How’d you know, anyway?”

“The master… he knows a lot of things.”

“Right. Don’t they all?”

“But… perhaps you’re even more powerful than the master! You could challenge him! Possibly…”

“Hold up. Master, you said?” Elena asked, raising a brow as she spoke. “Don’t mind me asking, but how many masters do you and your crazy friends have?”

“There’s only one true master!” Cecelia exclaimed, her eyes widening as she spoke. “But, I can’t say his name here! I wouldn’t dare, I…”

Once more, Elena reached in and grabbed Cecelia by the collar of her blouse.

“Tell me his name, won’t you? Pretty please?”

“Izoria Vhal!” Cecelia squealed. “That’s… his name!”

Elena frowned. The name, Izoria Vhal, based on its esoteric wording, was a dragon’s name. One worthy of the Cathanian Imperium, the dragon-held magocracy where the Sorcerer King, the elder dragon known as Terask Dagon, served Elicia as an Archon. Ruling, in her name, the lesser dragons and their mortal supplicants.

“Oh, that can’t be good…”

“Um… Vizier?” Cecelia asked warily when Elena let go of her. “Is something the matter?”

“Yes, actually,” Elena stated, regaining her composure with a wolfish grin. “I’d like to know where this Izoria Vhal is, so I can have a word with ‘em. Kill ‘em, probably.”

“What? Did you just say that you’ll…”

“Don’t worry, you heard me right the first time round.”

“You’re powerful, that much is true…” Cecelia uttered worriedly. “But, are you sure? The master…”

Elena took a step towards Cecelia, who took a step back and fell upon the snow behind her with a gasp.

“Answer my question.”

“If… you really want to go…” Cecelia whimpered, as Elena glared at her. “It’s the last house at the end of the path, and you… can’t miss it at all, I swear!”

“That’s better. But, before I leave…”

“Huh?”

“The lady that your ‘young master’ called his… ‘pet’. Where’d she go?”

“She’s with me, but…”

Before Cecelia could say anything else, Elena brandished her crimson sigil at her. She let out a shriek, as magical ice formed upon her wrists and her ankles.

“Vizier, I…”

“I’ll be back for her, and for you,” Elena stated, blinking out the tears of dust in her eyes as she turned to leave. “In the meantime, though? I’d suggest getting comfortable on the snow.”

On the way to the mansion of Izoria Vhal…

The path ahead was lined with marble, snow, and glacial flora. There were luxurious homes on every plot, the mansion at the end of the district being the largest of them all. It was, surely, the dragon’s lair.

Elena took a step forward, only to stop dead in her tracks as her golden earrings began to dangle wildly upon her elvish ears.

“Illusion magic…”

She shook her head and grit her teeth. Shaped in the eight-sided star of Elicia, her earrings were enchanted to detect magic, and the illusionary veil that awaited her was one worthy of any dragon of the Cathanian Imperium, an enchantment of a masterly level. It was the kind that was powerful at its core, and easily hidden in plain sight. The type that could weasel its way into the undead and automatons, and even the Hellbourne. It was magic, far beyond the grasp of petty illusionists who only held sway over the minds of men and elves.

Indeed, whatever lay beyond required some extent of preparation. For now, Elena could only wonder, how many had stepped unwittingly into their doom.

Later, back at the Phantasmagoria Café…

When Elena returned, Cecelia was still bound to the snow.

“Um… yes? Vizier, are you…”

“Hate to say it, but you’re right,” Elena stated with a wry grin, as she dispelled the icy bonds holding Cecelia in place with a snap of her fingers. “I can’t go in there, not yet.”

Upon hearing this, an uneasy smile formed upon Cecelia’s face.

“That’s good… I needed…”

“I was being a little hasty, yeah,” Elena added, as she looked Cecelia in the eye. “And I was being a little paranoid with you, I’ll admit. Just a precaution, y’know? Strictly business, and all.”

“Yes, of course…” Cecelia remarked with a grimace. “Anyway, now that you’re back here, I need your help! I was going to say it, before you left… if you’re a Vizier in service of the Eye of Elicia, and as powerful a sorcerer as I think you are…”

With a frown, Elena crossed her arms.

“Go on.”

“I… I think it’s better that I show you…” Cecelia uttered weakly, as she forced herself back up upon her feet and began limping towards the door behind her that led into her house. “Please, come with me.”

In silence, Elena followed Cecelia into the living room. From within her longcoat, she unsheathed a dagger and kept it concealed behind her back. It lacked the serrated teeth of the half-dragon’s torture toy, but it was good enough for a quick and close-quarter killing. On the other hand, it was useless before the sight of the beautiful lady with long yellow hair, who remained asleep upon Cecelia’s couch.

“While you were, um… dealing with them,” Cecelia said without turning around, while Elena hastily concealed her dagger. “I took her away while they weren’t looking!”

“Right…” Elena said, furrowing her brow as she eyed the massive beads of sweat rolling down the lady’s neck, and the way her chest heaved like she was choking in her sleep. “Who is she, huh? Said it once, that she looks familiar, and yet, I…”

Cecelia turned around, and nodded at Elena.

“She’s who you’re looking for! What Cedric, my little brother, told you about! She’s the elder sister of that little lady on the poster, and her name is Claire de la Lune! I’m guessing, that you took that poster from the plaza?”

Elena nodded. Tears began to well up within Cecelia’s green eyes.

“I left it there. Cedric, he doesn’t know better, but he did right in telling you to come here. He’s innocent, but I’m a servant of the master, and I can’t… help her. They always bring Claire to the café to taunt me, because they know, that I know…”

“I sense something powerful upon her. Some kind of magical curse, maybe?” Elena remarked as she looked upon Claire’s unconsciousness. “From the looks of it, she won’t survive the night, unless…”

“Yes! It’s how the master’s curse works…” Cecelia squealed, her voice dropping to a low and fearful whisper. “Because the young master is dead, those under his control will suffer…”

“Yeah, this enchantment is really… powerful.”

Cecelia nodded tearfully, once more.

“Yes! I know you want to kill everyone in the master’s mansion… but I need your help, Vizier of the Eye! Please, take her somewhere safe! I don’t know what else I can do for her…”

“Right. I know someone who might be able to help.”

Cecelia clutched at her apron, a smile forming upon her face as she looked at Elena in tearful silence.

“Yeah. No promises, though.”

“That’s good enough… for me. Even if a little hope, only amplifies the despair in the end…”

“Pretty sure that’s not how it works.”

“Izoria Vhal, he always says that…”

“He won’t be saying it much, soon enough,” Elena remarked with a wry grin. “But tell me, Cecelia…”

“Yes, Vizier?”

“You’re betraying your master, doing all of this. Why?”

“Because…”

With her hands still upon her apron, a wistful smile formed upon Cecelia’s face as she looked at Claire’s unconsciousness.

“She… changed my life, Vizier. Cedric and I, we were part of a travelling troupe. We… did theatre, plays and such. We were captured on the road, and our souls were to be tribute for the dragon’s Luminary. But the master, he intervened and saved us. That in return, I’d serve him unconditionally.”

Closing her eyes, she pressed her trembling hands upon her chest.

“I’ve sent so many in this city to their doom, poisoning them in the master’s name, all without a care. Until… Claire came to me about a year ago, to commission a cake from the café. She’s beautiful, and I wanted to offer her to the master as tribute. But, she… she started talking about Anna, of how the cake was for her birthday party. And I… I thought about Cedric, my little brother. His birthday’s a day after Anna’s, and I…”

Elena crossed her arms, watching quietly as Cecelia wept.

“I want to change… I don’t want to hurt anyone else! Because… they might have people they love. I’d be doing them wrong, even if it means fulfilling the master’s will.”

“I see,” Elena stated quietly. “I’ll see what I can do for your friend. You, on the other hand…”

“I submit to you… Vizier of the Eye,” Cecelia whispered in reply, placing her hands forward and hanging her head in shame before Elena. “But, if I may be a little rude…”

“Hmm?”

“You seem violent enough to challenge the master. Maybe you’ll put to end to this… madness. Maybe…”

With a smile, Elena shrugged her shoulders.

“It’s what I do.”

“Yes, perhaps you’ll set things right for them,” Cecelia said softly, smiling wistfully and closing her eyes shut as cuffs of magical ice formed once more upon her wrists. “Claire and Anna deserve better, even if I don’t.”

She then paused and opened her green eyes, a single tear running down her cheek as she looked right into the crimson irises of Elena’s eyes.

“You’ll do it for them. I mean, as good as violence can ever be.”