Arturri stepped out from the bathroom after talking with the Bheorse boy at the mirror. Hopefully the boy would have discretion regarding Daress. He adjusted his white cuffs beneath his suit. He had gotten it from a servants wardrobe as he came in. He knew the servants quarters would be fairly empty during a big party like this. The black that Leliana had given them had been stashed. He needed to get deeper into the building than black would let him go. Now in a dignified silver suit, he felt much more like his old self. The situation with Daress had him worried for her. After all, she left him the book, so a part of him felt like it was a personal responsibility to find her. Then again, Leliana had it now. She was a Diplomat after all. She would know how to calm the situation. Although he still hoped he would run into Daress, he was pursuing multiple threads at once here. He had dreamt of coming to the ball and finding justice for weeks straight. A Dar-Yi Ball was an opportunity that wouldn’t come again for another 6 seasons. Nadira came out of the ladies’ room nearby. She wore the black suit with a black shirt. Despite coming with a more ceremonial veil worn by diplomats at such an occasion, she did not wear it. No one would recognize her anyway, she had argued. “Nothing?” She asked him. “Nothing.” He said. He looked at Nadira’s face. Her lips were pursed and brows furrowed, showing her nerves. “Don’t worry,” he told her. “I’m sure she’ll be found.” “Easy to say,” Nadira said. “I don’t understand why she would come here. Why she would burn the library. Any of it. She loves books! It doesn’t make any sense.” “I know. I know it doesn’t.” He scratched his head and then carefully managed the hair back into place. A few white strands did not comply. “We have to work fast. Home is massive, and she might be anywhere. A lot of ground to cover.” She nodded. “Let’s split up. Meet you here in half an hour?” He suggested. He had ulterior motives but Nadira was too distraught to consider them. “Sure,” she said. They went their separate ways. Arturri’s mind raced with the ideas of where Daress would go. He would not go to the main area where the dancing was taking place. He had tossed his veil, so the people here may well recognize him. Looking for Daress was as much an excuse to be searching as it was a reason. Nadira asserted the packet they found had contained Sot drugs. He had to find the reason his teacher Sonrio had hidden that packet before he died. It was likely his mother and father were overlooking the Ball as high ranked officials in the Dar Yi family. The thought of their faces at seeing his for the first time since it all happened was overwhelming. He pushed open a hallway door. Beyond was a wing with stairs going up further into the Home, and coming down those stairs was the woman he loved. Sadie looked so different since a month ago. Her hair, once dark and streaked with many colours was now simply black. It had been tamed into a braided bun. Her eyes last seen as vibrant looked softened somehow. If he had met her now for the first time, he might have said she looked almost plain. Almost, but never. It was still Sadie, and despite her silence to him the past month, he still found his heart racing. He called out to her. “Sadie.” She looked over to him and as recognition crossed her eyes so too did a bit of spark return to her gaze. “Arturri?… How did you manage getting here this time?” She said, starting to smile. “It’s a long story,” he admitted. All sense of immediacy left him. He wanted the moment to last as long as he could, despite the situation he was in. “How are you? Are you okay?” She stepped down the last step and joined him, placing a hand on his arm which sent a shiver up it. “Yes. I’m okay.” “… Did you get my letters?” She paused then and her hand left his arm. Her smile started to drop. “I have. It’s not fair you know, blaming Reggie. He is innocent you know.” “So you’ve found nothing?” “I’m not your spy, either. I’m Dar Yi now, Arturri.” Why was she acting this way? “I thought you wanted to help me… You told me you would help. You could have at least told me if you didn’t.” “Art, how do you think it looked? When letters were coming from the Orphanage of all places to me? With Reggie by my side? And I having to keep them from him because of your accusations within them? Because of our past? This is my life now, Arturri. You can’t jeopardize that for me because of childish jealousy. This is everything. I have a responsibility now to the Family.” “Jealousy? He had so much to gain by my disappearance! It wasn’t just jealousy-“ “So what he had something to gain? Plenty of people did. You left an opening in power within the Dar Yi, and so did your teacher.” Her face became a little more morose as she thought it over, and he felt troubled for her. What must it have been like these last few weeks here? “It’s a position others wanted. It’s not so simple as fighting over me. I had little to do with any of this. You could have trusted me to contact you.” Arturri took a step forward. “If I hadn’t been blamed, we could have been together. If I’m angry at Reggie for taking your hand from mine, so be it. But,” he searched her face, “If it wasn’t him, then you have to have noticed something else. Anything?” She turned her face from him. “I have no reason to help you, Art. I would have helped you if you hadn’t been so stupid and put my reputation at risk. I could have done it in silence, without our past together or anything on the radar. But, you decided to make my life difficult.” “No reason to help me? I thought,” he struggled for words, “I thought you were at least… fond of me.” She scoffed, “You’re pushing the limits of my fondness, Art! Are you even listening to me at all? I was close to re-education. Reggie and I talked about the principles of the Dar Yi every day since my training ended, and I’m only just out. I had to really persuade them that I understood, that I would behave appropriately! Your letters made me look like a- like…” “Like what?” Her face turned red as she blurt the words out. “Like a Sot, Art! And I can’t be that person anymore.” But she had always been a Sot. What was wrong with being who she had always been? Arturri couldn’t understand the turmoil this seemed to draw up in her. Her words felt at odds with reality. To be a Sot was to be frank, and brave. But it to the Dar Yi was to be without integrity, lacking practical sense. To not be one of them. He was speechless, but he knew that it had to be true. She wouldn’t be the person he knew again. This had to be how it was. “So, it’s really over?” he said. She sighed. “I will tell you the only odd thing I’ve noticed since I’ve been here. And then? I have nothing more to do with you. Do you hear me?” She turned to look at him to make sure he understood, her face flushed and her eyes furious. He wanted to tell her that she looked beautiful, even when she was breaking things off with him. He hated to see her so upset. What could he say? "I didn’t mean to make things worse for you… I missed you so much-“ But she cut him off. “Your father, Arturri. He hasn’t been seen for a few weeks now. They say he is sick, but from my previous life as a Sot, I can smell a lie. I still can’t stand liars.” “M-my father?” He searched her face for more answers but she started walking towards him - past him. She came close enough that he could smell her perfume filling the air around her. He wanted to reach out to touch her. But he was a coward. She told him nothing else, and left the room where he had come in. Alone, he stood in that corridor catching his breath. It had not been the reunion that he had hoped for. What a damn idiot. He clenched his fist to control his temper at himself. He was the biggest fool in Entithea. And what was this about his father? Was he really sick? But Sadie believed it was a lie, and he was inclined to believe her. She was always much more clever than he was. He started his ascent to the next floor. He could get to the balconies from there and he might be able to find the one person who'd be able to answer his questions. Memories of his youth flooded Arturri’s mind as he wandered these halls. His footsteps in these nice shoes clacked sharp on the polished surface. He used to run up these stairs, have free reign of the entire Home. He used to drop things from the balconies to listen to how far down the depths below were. He would practice levitating stones above the abyss and seeing how far he could keep them afloat. Eventually, he would lose his grasp of them. The ancestors on these walls, his walls, even now, looked at him with a slight smile at the edge of their lips. He felt their attention. He had been learning a trade that would forge him. He felt like he would inherit the entire Home once. It was all his. Until it wasn’t. By reflex, he took the turns he used to do when he was younger. To the balcony his mother would watch from. The white pillars of stone arched in a frame to show a dark grey curtain of thin fabric. He could see a figure behind it. As if time had stood still since his boyhood. He pulled the curtain, and his mother Warren turned gracefully to see his face. She dressed in silver to the ground, high collar and sleeves close to her arms. Her hair was white like his and done carefully up with long pins holding it in place. They had the same hard eyes and sharp cheekbones that he had. She looked every bit the important person she was around here. And just like in youth her moment of innocent surprise morphed into disapproval. He decided to speak first. “Hello, mother.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “You are out of your cage, I see.” “I am.” “You escaped,” she stated. “No. I was invited. Exceptional circumstances,” he said. He was allowing himself to indulge in as much snobbery as she displayed to him. “Clearly.” She paused to take a sip of her wine. “It seems the Church of the Royals does not respect our wishes as a Family. It is most unfortunate that they couldn’t hold their end of the bargain. I was told I would never have to see your face again.” He smiled to her without any joy behind it. He maintained his composure, and gave her nothing. “Now, mother, that’s no way to speak to your favourite child.” “Unfortunately, you were my only child. And now you are no longer with us,” she turned her eyes from him. He stepped onto the balcony with her and let the curtain fall behind him. “Enough of the pleasantries, mother. Where is my father?” She laughed at him, her eyes turning back towards him. They were now cruel rather than empty. “Your father? You really think your father would want to see you? He’s too busy to deal with the pariah folk such as yourself.” “I heard rumour he is sick,” he pressed. She waved the rumour away with a dismissive hand. Arturri took a seat beside Warren, trying to meet her eyes. She looked through him, rather than at him. “Do you really, truly, believe I killed him?” She blinked once. “You were at the scene of the crime. You had blood on your hands. No one else was around. No one else wanted him dead. You hated him. Publicly argued.” “What about Reginald? Did he not hate him too? Would he not have benefited by having me out of the picture? The competition in silver, gone. Not to mention our… other shared interests. Is it not possible?” The consideration had no sway on her. “It’s perfectly impossible. Reginald was with me that day. He couldn’t have killed Sonrio.” The information surprised him. “With you? … Whatever for?” “He was asking for money, of course. The man is broke. He had been bringing his accounts to us for some time.” He remembered the day of the murder when he had walked in, and the windows having been open to the abyss below. Someone may have come in from outside of the building. The way that he was killed, when he had found the body. It was either someone with a serious getaway plan or a paid Bheorse assassination. Reginald didn’t look like he could scale the side of the Home and out again before he could come in. Meanwhile, the Bheorse would have to be paid, and they were paid in advance. If Reginald was not as rich as he had let on, then that would mean that Sadie was right. “Reginald is innocent.” Arturri stated with a looming sense of horror. “About time you listened to your mother,” Warren said. Arturri wasn’t in the mood for the teasing. “Is father alright? If he hasn’t been seen, then he is either sick, hiding, or missing. You would know where he is hiding. Is it because he’s in danger? If it isn’t Reginald, a different killer is still out there. Who knows what they’re really after or if they’re finished killing. I don’t have a good feeling.” Warren gave her son nothing. “You sound insane, child. What were you let back here to do, exactly? The Diplomats did not allow you here to play investigator, did they? They certainly didn’t give you silver clothing.” “That… that is classified,” he said. He wasn’t sure whether it was or not, but he thought it best to keep information on Daress hush for now. “Classified? From me?” She laughed again and drew herself to a stand. “I can’t believe you drew me into conversation with you for as long as you did. Perhaps I’m nostalgic. I’m going to speak to your superiors immediately. Then, you will be escorted off the premises, exceptional circumstances or not.” “Wait! Where is he?” “Take your delusions with you when you leave,” she said as she drew the dark curtain to one side. She passed through without another word. He would have chased after her except that he knew how hopeless such an act would be. Warren had decided to tell him nothing out of spite. But she did have major sway. And him being here was for Daress alone. One word to Leliana about his deviation and he'd never see the city outside the Orphanage again. He had a few minutes before that conversation would take place. He could find his father before then. If he was missing, he was missing. But if he was either sick or hiding, there was one place where he was most likely to be. Luckily, that was a route that Arturri knew by heart. His pace quickened with the urgency of the matter. He felt like there was bells ringing in his mind. Time was becoming a luxury he couldn’t afford. The halls seemed to move about him as if in a dream. The faces of each ancestor watched him. Some of them, he was told, he was related to directly by blood. Once, that meant something. But such things had gone out of fashion in most circles. Arturri remembered his father’s gifts when he was a young boy. A gift for his rite of Joining. His father, a serious and respected man, had thrown a pastry dusted with cinnamon sugar at him. He was told to catch it without dropping a crumb. The image of this figure of power and authority tossing a pastry had felt so comical. Arturri had been giggling anticipating the catch. It had stopped between his hands, inches from dirtying his palms. His father had laughed, loud and strong. He could still taste the sweetness on his tongue when he thought of training. His mother had scolded, but his father had always had the final word. He had encouraged his connection to his ancestors. He encouraged fun. And so, Arturri learned to change the texture of things when he touched them. He had loved sculpting. It was his talent in the arts that had led him to recruitment by Sonrio. His father had been proud of him, when they had last spoke. But, he realized, it had been even before the death of his teacher that his father had stopped speaking with him. The past year or two, he had grown distant. Arturri had been rebellious, not dedicated himself to his tasks. He had been complaining about his responsibilities as a student. Father had been concerned about his progress. Not angry, simply concerned. Then he stopped sharing. They put each other off, came up with excuses. His stomach dropped at a thought. What if something had happened to his father long before now? What if people were only starting to notice? The Home of the Dar Yi was like a labyrinth if one wasn’t used to them. Soon, he was reaching a crossroads of rooms and halls in the upper floors of the Home. The silver lights floating above dimmed at the crossroads of hallways beyond his own. Parallel to him. There in that dim light was a figure. Daress. The two of them stared at one another for a frozen moment. A moment of understanding. She would have seen that he had made it to his Home to continue exploring, as he had intended. He would see that she had evaded capture. He knew that it was his duty to catch her as well. It was how he could be here. Because of what she had done. Because of the damage. The boy Librarian. Because of the cry for help at leaving him a message before disappearing. They had been friends. He opened his mouth, hesitating. She shook her head slowly in the dim light. Nothing could be said. She swayed between her two feet to bring up momentum again before she continued to run down the hall. Seconds later, the Bheorse boy from earlier dashed down the same junction after her. He couldn’t help her now. The Bheorse would catch her for them, he supposed. Although a part of him wished her to be free, like Nadira had almost been. But she wasn’t the only one with a crisis at the moment. His father could be long dead for all he knew. He didn’t have long before Leliana would hear word of this and he would be captured himself. He, too, had to keep moving. The door to his father’s chambers were massive double doors that were twice the height of a man. One door was silvery white, and the other beside it a dark steel. He placed his hand on the metals. They were so familiar. Of course, they were locked. So he knocked hard. No one answered. Of course it couldn’t be that easy. He tried to find something around to fashion into some kind of lock-picking device. A distant tapping sound caught his attention. It was footsteps coming from behind him down the hallway. They were getting closer. He would need to open this door fast somehow. He took a step back and slammed himself into it. Tried to force it. No good. He took a step back again- “Now, now, Art,” a familiar voice called from behind him. “No need to make a scene.” He turned. Sadie gave him a smug smile from behind him. He gaped at her. “You’re here,” he stated. His whole body relaxed at the sight of her. She took out a small bit of a stone from her clutch bag and started shaping it in the air before her. “I thought I might find you here, after seeing Warren complaining to a Diplomat.” He found he was breathless. “I’m sorry, Sadie. You’re right. Reginald is innocent. It was stupid of me to assume-“ “Thank you for admitting it. But it’s okay. He’s been very happy with you out of the picture. And he treats me well, but.. He wasn’t honest about everything before we married.” Arturri began to understand. He tried to be delicate. “You’re in debt, right. Warren told me.” She gave a small tense smile as she completed the key. “We make due. Business is on the up at least, now that we have more of the silver market. But if it’s ours by a lie, I can take the loss. We can manage.” “Do you love him?” She put the key into the lock. He felt a weight in his stomach like he was sick. “I don’t hate him. And I don’t hate you either,” she said. “I’ll always love you, Sadie,” He told her. She looked troubled by the statement. “Don’t,” she replied. The door clicked open, and she took a step back. “And don’t mention that I helped you.” He nodded. He stepped into the dark room beyond. Sadie stayed outside. When he glanced back to thank her, she was already gone around a corner. Inside was lit by candlelight. Strange, he thought to himself. The chambers were large, more like an entire house than a bedroom. His earliest memories took place in these chambers. A large balcony at the far side of the lounge looked out on the distant farms across the Dar Yi abyss. On the floating islets dotted around, the windows of their humble abodes twinkled. They had lit up in the dark after the evening bells. “Warren?” called a voice. It was rough, and mournful. Something about it sounded broken. A cough. Was he really sick? Even if that was a case, he was still glad he came. He wanted to say a goodbye to him that he never got to have. Even if he never got a chance to clear his name here. Something about seeing his father would feel like closure, in its own way. “No,” Arturri replied. He found his own voice cracking in response. “It’s me.” He walked nearer to the source of the voice, his hands touching the walls. He didn’t know if he had ever ran his hands along them now that he was grown up. The voice shook. Was he crying? “Oh… Oh Arturri…. My boy… No, don’t come closer, son.” He hesitated at the sound. He could feel his heart beat. A lump in his throat. “I’m innocent, father. Please believe me. I would never…” But mumbling interrupted him. “No, no… ghosts… ghosts.. Phantoms… please…” The words his father spoke confused Arturri. “What do you mean?” he asked. He turned the corner to the bedroom where his father was. Hunched over the side of the large poster-bed with his hands drawn together was his father. Large windows and flickering candles illuminated him there, surrounded by shadows. The man looked emancipated. His arms were scabbed. He was flushed and red. His hair had darkened. Around him, packets of the Sot drug littered the floor and stained the white duvet covers with a dark powder. All on the bed were paintings and photographs of the ancestors, pulled down from the walls. Some of the paintings were stained, too. It smelled too sweet, like rotting apples. Arturri felt a growing urge to be sick. It was dark here, he realized, because his father could not summon lights. Integrity. One of the cornerstones of the Family. The ancestors had abandoned him. Reality crashed on Arturri all at once. “Sonrio knew. Didn’t he. He had one of these.” Arturri picked up an empty packet with shaking hands. “How long?” His father rocked against the edge of the bed where he had up his elbows. He didn’t answer him. “Not real, son. You can’t be here now… You aren’t here...” “Warren protected you… All the excuses. And then, what? Sonrio had to go? Did he threaten to expose you even after hush money? But why not make it look natural?” Arturri started to pace the room. He picked up his ancestral portraits and started to put them back on the walls. Without the frames, nails jutted out at odd angles. He straightened one out and looked into its eyes. “I wasn’t meant to walk in. I walked in before it was covered up. Is that it? Is that really all it was?” He turned back to his father. The man who was once so great was looking up at his son with eyes soaked with tears. Arturri couldn’t stop as pieces started to fit together. “Or did she just hate me? Want to get rid of a disappointment. Did you? Was your position in the Family more important than my entire future? Did I mean that little to either of you?!” His father just rocked there. Arturri’s eyes started to water. “Is that it?! ANSWER ME.” He walked over to him, the man who made him everything he was, and grabbed his shoulder. His father could not meet his eyes, not straight on. His mind wasn’t fully there. Finally he did speak. “I never hated you my son. It was the only way. The only choice we had.” Arturri had wished beyond hope that there had been some other explanation. “No. No, it wasn’t.” As he held back tears, he had to focus on the little time he still had in the Dar Yi home. His time was running out. But he could still fix things. “Can you stand? Here. Hold my shoulder there.” He managed to get his father to hold onto him and drew him to a stand. His smell almost made Arturri gag but he held his composure. “Where am I going?” his father asked. “We’re going to fix this. You will confess to the head of the Family. Confess to grandmother, and it will all go away.”