Guard rush through the dungeons towards the only prisoner in holding. The scent of blood thickens as they approach and slide to a horrifying halt. The grimy figure is pinned to the wall as a large broadsword holds her in place.

The sergeant gulps as he points to a guard and raspingly yells, “Alert his Majesty and the Captain!” Before turning towards the others, “As for the rest of you sound the alarm. The intruder cannot have gone far in this weather!”

The guards immediately obey and rush off as the sergeant is left alone with the corpse. He had been at enough crime scenes to know better than to touch the corpse. But from experience, there should be signs of fighting. But how could she as she was chained to the wall?

Out of respect he removes his helm and bows. “Thank you for your service, General Bartholomew,” before solemnly putting on his helm. The sound of yelling is heard in the distant as he faintly hums a song of mourning for the dead.

The Captain of the Guards a handsome older man with streaks in his dark hair alertly approaches. The Captain acknowledges the saluting sergeant as he studies the gruesome scene before him. After a moment, he asks, “Have you touched anything?”

The sergeant firmly replies, “No, sir. I remained behind to ensure the body remained intact and the chain of command was kept. I know you want the sniffers to find the scene perfectly immaculate.”

“Sergeant, they are officers of the crown and as such should be called, Detectives,” The Captain sternly said.

“Sorry, sir,” the sergeant hastily said.

“I understand, there are still some differences among the men. But they do excellent work for a new department,” Captain Alcott firmly said as he briefly touches the guard on the shoulder.

A group of men wearing strange uniforms tromp down the hallway led by the 2nd in command of the Investigation Unit, Vice-Gauthier. The vice had been in the capital for the last two month to establish headquarters in the capital for the Investigation Unit. It was by sheer luck that the Vice-Gauthier still was in the capital having been detained by the winter storm.

Vice-Gauthier soundlessly brushes past the two men wearing a mask covering his mouth and nose plus gloves. His men are dressed the same and wear black, warm slippers on the feet to better preserve the scene and separate their footsteps from the rest.

The men separate into groups as some scan the bars for scenes of a forced entry. Others collect any fibers or fallen items that do not seem to belong. The rest gather around the corpse collecting blood samples from the blade and dust it without touching the corpse. At last Vice-Gauthier reaches to touch the body, when the body bursts into flame.

“Henrik!” Vice-Gauthier shouts as one of men rushes forward and chants the spell away. But the flames do not stop burning and are merely contained. The fire leaves behind ashes and charred bones with an intact blade still stabbed into the wall.

The men are silent as Vice-Gauthier punches the wall in anger as the only sound heard is the thuds against the wall as blood stains the wall. Captain Alcott forcefully pulls the thin man back as the gaunt man has a wild look of despair in his eyes. Captain Alcott says, “Vice-Gauthier, control yourself.”

Vice-Gauthier swallows and nods as he takes a deep breath and barks, “I want every inch of this cell swiped and cataloged. I want to how a spell was activated past the palace barriers. Henrik go get our mages on the squad and any mage in the palace to be round up. We are going to need all the help we can get.”

Vice-Gauthier pauses and turns towards Captain Alcott and says, “I will leave the investigating of persons with access to your forces, Captain Alcott. Once we have more clues, I trust we will cooperate together on this case?”

“Yes, I see no problem in cooperating on this case. I am certain his Majesty will order it as well. I take my leave and leave the dungeon in your capable hands,” Captain Alcott replied.

Vice-Gauthier grunts in reply as he returns to his work. Captain Alcott briskly walks back to the palace as he gathers his men. In the distance, he sees the face of His Majesty and the alert face of Prime Minster Bartholomew.

Captain Alcott eyes tighten with resignation and experience. His Majesty draws near as Prime Minster Bartholomew rushes forward at seeing something terrible on Captain Alcott’s face. The two men draw near and wait expectantly to hear the news regarding an intruder.

“An intruder has entered the palace,” Captain Alcott firmly said.

His Majesty frowns and asks, “Then where is the intruder?”

“The search continues, but there was a casualty,” Captain Alcott carefully said.

“Who?” His Majesty asked as a wary expression appeared on Prime Minster Bartholomew’s face at the response.

“The prisoner, Lena of Bartholomew,” Captain Alcott faintly said as Prime Minster Bartholomew let out a moan.

“Not, my Lena. No, no, no,” Prime Minster Bartholomew whispered with disbelief as his Majesty stretched out his hand, but retracted it quickly as if bitten.

Prime Minster Bartholomew stumbles forward as Captain Alcott reaches over to steady him. Prime Minster Bartholomew pushes him away, before running towards the dungeons. Captain Alcott is torn between running after his friend and doing his duty.

His Majesty sadly says, “Go Alcott. He will need someone at his side,” before turning around and walking back slowly as though a great weight had settled onto his shoulders.

Captain Alcott darts back towards the dungeons as he enters the tunnels he hears loud despairing wail. Increasing his pace, Captain Alcott comes a scene that would forever be engraved in his mind. Unable to reach his daughter, Prime Minster Bartholomew kneels at the entrance of the cell and slams his face into the floor over and over.

Captain Alcott attempts to pull him back as the Prime Minster Bartholomew throws him. Tears stream down his face as Prime Minster Bartholomew opens his mouth to speak in a dead man’s voice as everyone winces. “I do not have the right to call myself your father. I should have protected you and I did not. I have failed you at every turn,” Prime Minster Bartholomew said in a haunted tone.

Prime Minster Bartholomew remained kneeling for hours as Captain Alcott could only helplessly watch until the Investigation Unit asked them to leave. Captain Alcott offered his hand as Prime Minster Bartholomew shoved him away and stumbled to his feet. With painful slowness, Prime Minster Bartholomew clung to the walls and traversed the dungeons.

Captain Alcott accompanies Prime Minster Bartholomew back to the palace. At the palace entrance Captain Alcott fidgets trying to think of what to say. “Do you think I am a good man?” Prime Minster Bartholomew suddenly asked.

Startled Captain Alcott swiftly answers, “Of course.”

“Then how is my eldest dead with no corpse to even mourn and bury?” Prime Minister Bartholomew drily croaked.

Captain Alcott opens his mouth to reply but is interrupted by the guards, before he has a chance to catch up, his friend has long since gone. No parent should have to watch a child die. He had already lost his son, but he could not bear to lose another friend.

With stern tone, Captain Alcott barks, “Gather anyone who was awake at the hour. If they have already gone to bed wake them! I do not care who they are! And if they argue, say this is a matter of security. And if they continue to refuse place them in a holding cell. Let’s see if the cold won’t help them cooperate.”

The men rush off as Captain Alcott heads towards an indignant noble. With some relish, Captain Alcott marches forward to interrogate the hapless noble.