"What is this Mother?" Euphemia said while holding a gleaming, palm-sized medallion. The nine-headed serpent coiling a pair of crossed tridents was lit up in deep blue shade.

"This is the Family Seal - a relic of a long-forgotten communication used by the noble families long ago." Agnes let go of the silken chain that held the piece. "Only the heads of the eight noble families of the empire know its meaning. I could not offer you any greater help than this. Remember to show our seal only to the highest members of the nobility when their help is needed. How you will manage to do that depends solely on you."

"Thank you Mother."

"You may be able to make good use of this during my task."Agnes' eyes did not lift away from the canoness. Euphemia felt that her mother was trying to hold back on her words; the duchess found it hard to let her take part in the investigation. "Present the emblem to the officer-in-charge along with my letter. While my writing would be enough, keep the seal handy just in case you'd come across anyone questioning my authority. You will be given access to the investigation the way I would receive it."

"I shall not return empty-handed. Giving me this chance is more than what I will ask for."

"I will remind you of this: return to me if things are going to be more than you can handle." There was a feeling that the duchess was showing not only a sign of concern but also a clear order. "Your father would be deeply saddened should anything untoward happen to you."

The ship came to a halt in a shallow area of the beach. A soft splash was heard from the right part before the prow. Albertan sailors slid down the ramp and assisted Euphemia in disembarking from the anchored ship. Still, blue waters cooled the soles of her shoes; her steps squelched on the dense, wet ground.

Euphemia could still see the violence that took over the imposing fortress compound. Shell holes were found on some sections of the walls; a part of the eastern fortifications crumbled from the abuse of the assault.

Her dress fluttered like a blue flag as a gale passed through the devastated and conquered sections of the facility. The central tower looked down on her, exposing the hole on its side like a bitten-off cone.

She imagined how the assault took place; her father leading the charge, violently pushing the defenses to the limit until each section gave way to the attacking force. Euphemia paid little attention to the other buildings and walked straight to the scene where Lord Cecil last carried the fight. Two Albertan officers guarded the makeshift entrance to the ruined building.

"I am sorry madam, but we have orders not to permit anyone in without proper authorization."

"I see." Euphemia took a rolled sheet of paper out of her vest and handed it over to the guarding officer. "I, Euphemia of House Schild, am sent in lieu of the Duchess Agnes to investigate the place."

The Albertan captain untied the rolled paper, read through it, and noticed the dry seal of the duchy on its bottom right. He promptly responded with a bow upon meeting with Euphemia's gaze.

"My apologies, Your Ladyship," the captain's voice quavered on the last syllable. "Follow me please."

A squad of men gathered around them and took the lead to a broken building. The lady of Schild noticed that the hole was roughly cut; holes of what used to be windows were buried on the ground. This place was leveled, although the process was not completed, and left the top half of the structure mostly intact. One of the Albertan officers was about to enter when he faced the woman saying:

"My Lady, we have recovered what are most likely Lord Cecil's weapons. Perhaps you might want to confirm if these are truly his before we proceed."

Euphemia nodded at the uniformed man. She was taken to a tent set up near the half-ruins. The sword was first shown to her; a gleaming silvery blade with the sun and twelve rays engraved near the guard. She held the sword, which was somewhat light despite its length reaching almost half the woman's height. Its blade hummed slightly when swung - a reaction she had clearly recalled when she watched the old commander practice his swordarm.

She was holding the wide-bladed weapon with both hands when the shield was shown to her. It was a dense and sloped heater shield that was almost as big as a human. The emblem of the Albertan house was embedded in strong shades of blue and white. Euphemia tried to flip the armor piece to show its back, where a smaller sword was hidden. She could still barely move the shield around with both arms; the canoness remembered stumbling to the floor when she first tried to lift the shield - as a girl whose body was smaller than she was now.

The cleric inspected both arms and did not see signs of blood or dry veins of it that dirtied either of them. Euphemia felt that her father was still alive, and she had to find him somewhere.

"These are his, no doubt. Thank you for finding them." Euphemia confirmed with a soft voice; a stern-faced cleric was reflected at the surface of the duke's blade. "I will take these with me on the way home."

"Of course, My Lady," with that, the captain left the tent and resumed the venture into the wreck.

She had difficulty keeping pace with the soldiers on the diagonal-floored interior. The ruin settled at a rough angle, and Euphemia proceeded with small steps, being careful not to have her dress ruined by the small, jagged bumps that littered the place. Euphemia managed to reach the chamber where her father last struggled.

The interior seemed to have been cleared of the pieces of broken building that caved it in. Euphemia found a piece of gray tubing that jutted out of a stone pile nearby. She went near it, kneeling to examine it further.

"Were there any accounts of how my father was defeated here Captain?"

"One of the Blaurosen investigators proposed that Lord Cecil could have been put down by a chemical attack."

Euphemia went near the tube and sniffed twice at the insides; a pungent sharpness jabbed her left temple and caused her to jerk away from the outlying pipe. One of the soldiers quickly noticed her slight fainting and asked:

"Are you all right Madam?"

"Don't worry," Euphemia held her forehead and massaged it. "I'll be fine. Could you bring me my bag?"

The soldier nodded and handed the brown bag that lay a few feet from Euphemia. She opened its contents and produced a vial, a swab of cotton, and a pair of long forceps. A careful, circular motion collected strange green residue all over the cotton's surface. She dropped the substance-layered piece to the vial; her face was slightly distant to prevent the smell from getting to her system again. The vial was sealed with a rubber stopper was returned to the bag along with the pair of forceps.

"I'm done." Euphemia nodded and smiled in earnest. "Where shall we go next?"

"Follow me Madam," the captain answered, pointing at the open passageway on the floor.

Squishy and gritty steps echoed on the underground passageway as the group moved deeper into the tunnel. Hastily-placed lamps replaced the old lighting system that hung broken on the walls. Euphemia was led to the seaward cavern mouth where a current of the Arentz rolled unbound.

A small dock was erected on the ever-rocking waters. Euphemia imagined that boats would be damaged if such were moored on this port. The hollow did not allow a ship to be docked in the place either; the ceiling would be too low for anything larger than a tugboat.

"Officer, would you know how many of the Gray Fox's men escaped this place?" the cleric asked her escorting officer.

"Some of the prisoners said less than seventy. We have no actual count on that My Lady."

Euphemia watched the sea rip back and forth against the land. A boat would definitely struggle to keep afloat; the treacherous waves would have sent it either back to the cavern's mouth, or crushed the craft against the cliff's walls. Swimming their way out was another possible means of escape, but those bodies would have been hammered to the seafloor. It was not possible to swim out of the besieged island without being seen by the attacking fleet.

She then removed the possibility of the survivors swimming out of the island after seeing cut ropes on the docks.

Could the Gray Fox have escaped his arrest using an underwater boat?

It was impossible to share that probability with the soldiers, for they might end up laughing at the young woman. Euphemia decided to ask this instead:

"Are there any places where they could have escaped?"

"Alberta would have been the closest city, but the Navy has secured the port and we would have captured them there. They could have sailed out of the Empire, if their ship could manage such an escape."

Would the Fox and his men hide in another country in Delitia? A far cry, but not very feasible. The Arentz would only bring the Fox and the other survivors to the Antikwald, but the cliffs on its sea-facing boundaries there proved inhospitable to ships and other marine vessels. There were numerous towns near the forest that they could use as a refuge, although the escapees would have to sail through the Kön River to finally land somewhere.

"Thank you for all your help." Euphemia looked at the Albertan soldiers who guided her in and out of the wrecked fortress. "I should be returning to the Duchess Agnes."

"Of course, Your Ladyship. May your travels be safe."

Today's findings were enough for Euphemia to start things on her own. She walked out of the cavern inlet and decided to take her rest on one of the Army installations. Another day would then be spent before she can return to Schild Manse.