"Rum-Ble…" A pebble got caught under the wheels, travelling northwards of East Kria. The blonde was wrapped in an old brown cloak over her armour—curtains were shut inside the carriage.
She pinched the skin on her forearms, "Am I getting? Stiffer?" she muttered to herself. However delicate it was, her skin did seem firmer.
"Focus Jotou; wait, focus on what? I've got everything, right?" she spoke, going into thought.
'After the conversation with Father Keel yesterday, I couldn't help but plan things out. I didn't plan everything, I just flaunted what I already have. Still, having everything organized gives me confidence already.
Finding the Lexokodac could be crucial to gain some information. They're THE party in Kria. If I play my cards right, maybe we could even form an alliance.
I have no clue how they are; I can only gauge them after we meet them. They don't seem to like the mayor either and they fight velatos—we do have some common ground.'
Jotou looked to her sides and examined the nice cushioned seats. 'How long can we afford luxury over survival? I'm glad we still can, but more velatos need to be gone and we need to get paid for it.
Otherwise, it's slimes and random commissions. Velatos are said to be made of fear. So, who dreamt of the whale? Or the centicrab? Or…' Her thoughts wandered to that night in that room.
Its eyes, its voice remained looping in her head, taunting her. 'You. Has it been fears or has it all been orchestrated? In which case, where are you hiding? I'll find you… but not for now.
Figuring out the other details of Anastasia Princely will clear my head. Fumeko doesn't remember the exact addresses and the documents were shredded.
To get access to private things would be to use my authority—officially in a Krialin Station… the mayor would take that as confirmation of the contract.
I'll have to find John Princely on my own. I'll do it myself before I explore all the other options.' Jotou looked at the curtain, pulling it aside to take a peek.
People were walking by and she was getting closer to her destination. 'Besides, I don't know who to trust… We know that healing magic affects a velatos, but it has to be master level or above.
Just like any offensive spell so, it's wrong to call it a 'weakness' as opposed to another option. What bothers me most is why none of those researchers just called it undead.
If someone like me can figure it out, surely they've already explored that option; or they're not telling me. Whichever way you put it, there's a bigger picture I'm not seeing.
So until then, I'm not gonna take their words as fact. Question everything; it's not the easiest way to operate, but it keeps me thinking. That's why I didn't call Kria Estate.
There was a good chance that Jack would've picked up, but even then, others might be listening in through the phoneline. It's happened in my world; I shouldn't underestimate it here.
I will figure out this case and first I need to put all my other troubles aside.' Jotou sighed, leaning back in her seat. 'And once I figure out the deal with John Princely and what happened to Anastasia, I can leave that behind me.
What if… Anastasia Princely is in Jotou Howllett? Is that even a possibility? Maybe I survived the crash and our bodies swapped? Can't confirm until I find a way back to my world.'
Jotou's face crinkled, "If that theory's possible… then I'm sorry Ana, you kinda got the short end of the stick… But you better be taking care of my body as well as I am yours.
If that's even the case which I kinda doubt. I wonder how many people came to my funeral. Ugh," Jotou shook her head. "I'm here now and Jotou Howllett is Jotou Howllett," she uttered. "Man, I miss Wi-Fi…"
_
"Wait here please, I'll be out in a bit."
The coachman nodded back and got down to stretch his legs
Jotou looked up to the building, "East-Kria Funeral House," she read. 'Where it all started.' She furrowed her brows and walked into the building.
Her confident stride came to a halt, seeing a coffin at the ready and multiple chairs dishevelled. A man dressed in black, curly hair; he was sweeping up before he turned.
That face—the face she first saw, "Am I interrupting anything?"
He squinted at the blonde, "No… If you're here for the service, I'm afraid it's already over," a scrawny figure and almond hair—he was certainly a young funeral director.
"I'm not here for that. I'm actually here for another reason," Jotou walked forward, "I'm sure you've seen plenty of dead bodies, especially in the past month-"
"Yes, I remember you," he cut her off and focused back on his sweeping. He hid a sour expression.
Jotou's brows relaxed, "Oh? Great, I just have some questions; about the old man who was with me, my father. I'm just having a bit of amnesia, but do you know where he lives? I know around Old-Town, but the exact place slips my mind."
He turned, nose wrinkling, "Nice try Thundering Blade, but I know who you are."
'I shouldn't've lied, but… he clearly didn't like me since I walked in.' Jotou crossed her arms, "Then my question doesn't change; John Princely.
I'm sure you have an address even if all my documents were shredded. It makes sense that you'd have documents on the person who ordered the funeral in the first place."
The air between them could boil the ocean. "You think I'm going to give that information to a walking corpse? You're a monstrosity that convinced people that you're not, but I see through you.
The woman that died is gone and you living is unnatural, even if you have convinced yourself otherwise. I'll give you information when you lay down and die like a person."
'Oh boy… this guy sounds like a nutjob that pulls conspiracies out of his ass.' Jotou looked at him and exhaled, "Listen, I have no clue how I'm here either.
I do know I've helped Kria a lot and I'm not someone trying to 'commit evil'. I'm not sure what your religion is, but I'm just looking for John Princely."
He circled around the other side with his broom, "I have no religion; the majority of the world doesn't. You go against death, everything I stand for.
Some sort of necromancy or velatos. You've plagued Kria for long enough, now GO!" he swept up dust towards her.
Jotou shielded her eyes as she felt sparks go down her hair in warning. "I'm not leaving till I get a location," she stood her ground, "And I'm not a velatos." 'If I use my title, can I get some sorta info?'
"Eugh!" he threw the broom on the floor, "Fine! But you never step foot in this place again!"
Jotou glared at him, "I can agree with that."
"You can go ask the tavern around the corner—Veers. John Princely was there daily before sleeping drunk in the funeral house," he picked up his broom.
Jotou knitted her brows, "That's not very specific, can't you look at documents?"
"Shut up bitch, you made your verbal contract. You wanted a location, I gave you one, now get out; unless you wanted to be escorted out like last time?" he went back to sweeping, averting his eyes.
Jotou clenched her fist, eyeing the blade strapped to her side. She huffed out a breath, "You're useless. Technically, you said not to step foot in, never out. You ready to go to court about it? Cause I've got a pretty good lawyer."
He groaned loudly, "Doesn't matter! I already gave you a location!"
"I know," Jotou said, "I'm just showing you how much of an idiot you are. I can just stand here and I wouldn't be breaking that stupid contract, but I'm going; I have some business there anyway."
She walked towards the exit in a shrug. With a smirk looking back, "You're just a waste of my time, much like funerals. I hope you have someone to plan yours. Unpredictable times and all that. Bye-bye now."
The last sound she heard was a loud grumble from within, causing the corners of her lips to curl up slightly. Jotou sighed, "That went well…" She looked to the coachman.
"Sir, give me a few more minutes; I'm going to the tavern down the road," Jotou gave the man a few pieces of copper for his time. He took it, nodding to her request.
The blonde hair was covered by a hood from the cloak. She tried her best to remember the path to, "Cheers at Veers," she read the swinging sign.
_
The travelling bard playing in the tavern had everyone in a cheer, listening to her flute as several patrons slapped tables and clinked drinks to join in her melody.
Jotou entered, unnoticed by most. 'I have to be less rude if I wanna find answers… Starting a fight isn't gonna get me anything. Hopefully, I can pull something off.' She patted the coins she carried.
She recognized the bartender, who enjoyed the performance behind the counter, alongside another patron who watched; fat and with a mug of ale in hand.
Jotou went up to a stool and sat next to the man in the vest and beanie. "Looks like I came into quite the party," Jotou spoke in merriment.
The bartender turned his attention, the man sitting by his side giving a sideways glance to acknowledge her. "What'll ya be- Do I know you?" he crossed his arms, examining her face.
"In a way," Jotou pulled down her hood and put it back up, revealing her blonde hair quickly. The bartender's eyes widened in response.
"What brings the Thundering Blade to a slum like this?" the patron asked.
"Hm, you calling it a slum might attract less customers like her Veer. Look what the cat dragged in today. Everyone's trying to get their mitts on her," the bartender nodded to the bard.
Light-brown hair that cut off below her ears, a scanty top that left little to the imagination and a skirt that stopped at her knees. High boots that she tapped along as she danced lightly with her flute.
"So, you're Veers? Nice to meet you, Jotou Howllett. I just have a tab to pay," Jotou put five silver onto the counter under her hand. The bartender gave a slanted glance.
"Keep the change and let everyone enjoy what's going on there. There's a reason I'm wearing a hood," Jotou averted his gaze.
"Understood Ms Howllett," Veer answered, signalling the bartender to take in the five silver, paying for much more than a few beers.
"I was hoping to exchange some information too. You remember an old guy named John Princely?" she peered to the performance.
"That old-timer? He hasn't been here in weeks. He was here for about five or six days, droning on about his wife and daughter," the bartender said, exasperated.
"He pretty much told his entire life story in drunken slurs, hell, I could tell it now," Veer added.
"He ever tell you where he lived? Specifically?"
"Eh, somewhere in Old-Town, I didn't quite catch the street," the bartender replied.
"I heard about a John Princely from a tavern over in Old-Town; Brate's Pub and Inn. Was just talkin' with a friend from there, we got the same beer supplier.
Apparently, John's a regular over there and he's worked up quite the tab. Probably go ask there if you're lookin' for him," Veer stretched his arm.
"Well, thanks gentlemen. I'll be taking my leave, now that my debt's been paid," Jotou stood up.
"One for the road?" the bartender pointed his thumb to the booze.
"I'm good. Cheers, Veers. See you around," Jotou waved, exiting the tavern. Veer sent her off with a small salute, his eyes on the crowd.
'Did I pay TOO much? Whatever, I got what I needed.' Jotou left, shaking her head.