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Lebu pushed himself through the crowded streets of Trade Ward.He moved toward a designated safe house. The people and the bustling scenery passing him by barely registered in his mind. His steps were fast and uneven, and his mind was elsewhere.
Earlier, when Lebu had seen Nilrem wearing that familiar hat, a part of him dismissed it as a coincidence. Kenny had once arranged a similar one for him when he was uncovering the clues left behind by the youth to find the evidence.
As slim as the chance was, Lebu had clung to the hope that it was a passing coincidence. Nothing more than that.
He didn't want to unearth the memories related to the dusk-skinned youth. He had buried them deep in his heart because recalling them only opened an old wound, the pain of knowing the boy had died due to his own negligence.
Even now, Lebu had never truly forgiven himself for Kenny's death.
How could he?
His inner sanctum in turmoil, the Agent entered an unassuming building. He climbed to the topmost floor and entered the empty apartment. Then he arrived before the dry fireplace.
A burst of gray flames, and then he disappeared.
***
Back at the Ignisra embassy, the atmosphere was jolly.
The table was crowded with dishes meant to tempt the appetite. Platters of roasted meat, bowls of spiced vegetables, and fresh bread, all cooked by the finest of chefs from the Ignisra Kingdom.
Gillian moved in and out of the room, settling down plates, refilling cups, and clearing what had been finished. Due to the secrecy around Nilrem and his involvement in fighting the undead knight back in Amberfall, other people were not allowed to enter the room.
So Gillian had to do all the work. However, he did not mind it at all. After all, one was his Prince and the other was a Magus who saved his life.
Nilrem helped himself without restraint, lifting his cup again and again as the sun gradually dipped below the horizon. Marlow, on the other hand, drank sparingly. He seemed content simply to sit there, listening, and enjoying the old man's presence more than the food or drink itself.
"May I ask you something?" Marlow asked with an eager smile. "There's something that's been on my mind for a while now."
"Oh?" The old man arched an eyebrow. "Go ahead."
Marlow adjusted in his seat. He leaned forward ever so slightly and said, "I can't help but feel a strange sense of familiarity between us. No, that's not quite right."
He stroked his chin, deliberating his words. "It's more that... the way you carry yourself around me feels as though you've known me for a long time. And before you dismiss this, please hear me out."
The Prince paused, then continued. "My mother told me something similar. When you met her for the first time, she felt as if... as if you were already familiar to her. One instance could be a coincidence, but two?"
Nilrem blinked.
And then he laughed.
"So that's what's been bothering you?"
He laughed and laughed and laughed.
A few moments later, he exhaled a long sigh. He took a sip of wine, then said, "A sense of familiarity, eh?"
His pale blue eyes gazed at Marlow. For a brief moment, another figure bearing strikingly similar features seemed to overlap with the Prince.
Nilrem's lips curled into a warm smile. "I suppose so," he murmured. "You remind me of someone dear to me. That's all."
Marlow was slightly taken aback. He had assumed that Nilrem must have
visited them a long time ago, and hence the strange sense of familiarity. He did not expect the old man's answer.
"My mother too?" He asked.
Nilrem scoffed. "You do look like her, don't you?"
"...Ah, yes." Marlow was curious to know who this person was, but he didn't
wish to ask about any private matters related to the old man.
"So we remind you of that person, I see." He nodded. Then he couldn't help but
ask. "Family?"
Nilrem thought of Anna and what she meant to him.
He said with a gentle smile, "Yes. Family."
Their conversation gradually shifted to Nilrem's purpose of visit to the City of Everlasting Warmth.
"Are you writing another travelogue?" Marlow asked with a light chuckle.
"Ah, yes, of course." Nilrem nodded, curling his mustache. "They say this is the greatest city in the Union, and so I shall write a splendid book on it." "Well, Springdale is going to get even busier since the Sovereign Conclave is just around the corner," said the Prince.
"Sovereign Conclave?" Nilrem's eyes flashed with a peculiar light.
The Prince nodded.
"It is a gathering of every leader within the Sovereign Union," he explained. "Dignitaries and representatives from kingdoms, principalties, and free states all come together once every twenty years. We discuss trade, defense, and shared policies. The decisions made at the Conclave shape the Union for
decades to come."
He paused for a moment, then added. "That's why I'm here. Usually, Father visits the gathering, but he has remained back at home this time as Lord
Bunosilo is no longer stationed at Amberfall."
"I see!" Nilrem curled his mustache, the gears in his mind turning as he thought
of the climax of his play. "Interesting."
Since there were Cult spies in the Brotherhood, it was also likely that there
would be some moles in the Sovereign Union as well.
Although Adam didn't know who they were, it wouldn't be that hard to find out
once the Brotherhood was purged.
Nilrem leaned back in his seat, thinking to himself:
Now, for the play to begin, I need Magus Potts to begin connecting the dots on his own. And then, I'll gently guide everything from the shadows.
Adam Constantine can not make an appearance now. For if he does, the Cult will spare no effort to apprehend him, even going so far as to target his loved
ones.
Wait...
Nilrem froze.
Why am I thinking about myself in the third person?
He slowly clutched his head and began massaging his temples.
I've been pretending to be someone else for so long that I lost track of who I
really am...
***
Twilight Brotherhood's Headquarters.
Lebu stood deep within the archives, surrounded by towering shelves and scattered papers. He sifted through the drawers and stacks frantically.
At last, he found what he was looking for.
Kenny's dossier lay buried among older records. Lebu pulled it free with a
shaky breath, opening it to reveal a bundle of documents. He flipped through
the reports until a page made him stop.
Record of Kenny's initiation ceremony.
Lebu clearly remembered the youth's initiation ceremony. At the time, the
other Agent present had questioned the boy about this mysterious Magus who
had given him the Potion of Hope.
Kenny had ansered honestly, explaining that it was given in gratitude for his parents helping this Magus recover from his injuries. He had even drawn a
sketch of the man in question.
The Brotherhood had tried to track down this Magus, but every attempt had
ended in failure. After a time, the matter had been set aside.
But now, Lebu had finally uncovered the truth.
He pulled a piece of parchment from the dossier. On it was the same sketch
Kenny had drawn during the ceremony.
An elderly face, medium-length hair, trimmed beard, a curled mustache, and a
pair of eyes that sparkled with mischief.
Lebu's eyes trembled, and he couldn't help but think in pure disbelief:
It's him!