"Humans are innately covetous. The sorceress is no exception. The most rational action is the correct one. We must assume that she stole the tome for money, and now, with a valuable and perilous magical artifact in her possession, she'll dread divination spells cast by potent wizards who could locate her. Ergo, she'll strive to dispose of it as swiftly as possible. Caleb, your time would be better spent researching potential buyers," Asvelas declared, his tone harsh.
Caleb nodded, "It's not an implausible conjecture."
Brad leveled a sharp gaze at the half-elf before him and spoke with a biting tone, "Let me hazard a guess. You hail from Lathvaryl, the land of nefarious elves, and harbor an aversion to humans."
The half-elf returned Brad's piercing look with icy glares and responded, "No one bestowed freedom upon me. I fled the infernal depths of Lathvaryl on my own accord. The lords of noble knighthood may turn a blind eye to it, but if you're a human-elf hybrid in the Middle North, you are damned from birth," he said, gesturing toward the vicious scar marking his face.
Asvelas continued, covering his fake left eye. "Lathvaryl elves are notorious for their magical experimentation on their enslaved subjects. And the Middle North is rife with wealthy slavers who would pay a king's ransom for such a demonic artifact."
"Your words ring true, Asvelas," Caleb chimed in. "Elf lords of Varyl Territory are known for their insatiable lust for magical items, be they cursed or benign. They're quite the collectors. And rest assured, they would spare no expense for such a valuable item."
Brad nodded, considering Caleb's words. "Perhaps we can strike off the Selvaryl elves from our list. They have a cordial relationship with the dwarves and run an honest business."
"Only lesser evils than the other two," Asvelas sneered, cutting in with a sharp retort.
Caleb shot Asvelas a stern look and spoke with conviction, "Nonetheless, they have honored their deal with King Illuen. The knight is in the right."
With a gaze that brimmed with fury, Asvelas turned to the wizard and knight and spat, "And what of King Illuen and his knights who turn a blind eye to the abhorrent practice of slavery, despite having the power to raze Lathvaryl and Nathvaryl to the ground in a single night?"
Brad rose from his seat, his countenance taut with tension, poised to deliver a scathing rebuke in response to the censure levied against the Head Commander. But before he could utter a word, the old wizard's piercing gaze caught his own, and he managed to rein in his temper just in time. "Gentlemen," David interposed, "we are not assembled here to expatiate upon the bygone epoch of the Three Kings. Let us stay the course. Our mandate is to locate an elusive individual who wishes not to be found. Let us keep our focus on that."
"Master David, if I may interject," Brad ventured, rising to his feet. "To chart a course and set out in search of Charlotte, I am in dire need of your counsel in order to establish a sturdy foundation upon which to commence." He made no bones about it; he had no wish to be cooped up in the same space with the half-elf.
David ran his gnarled fingers through his hoary hair. "Knight Silverhilt, you are the sole individual to have crossed paths with the sorceress and the mist elf and gleaned a modicum of their intentions. Herein lies a promising point of departure. Tread along this axis and the way ahead shall begin to unfurl before you. But be forewarned, you shall require the constant aid of divergent viewpoints," David cautioned wisely. He then turned his attention to the other duo. "As a cohesive unit, you shall need to operate under his leadership, gentlemen. It behooves you to cultivate respect for one another and foster a culture of knowledge-sharing with alacrity," the aged wizard admonished. His glance was particularly severe this time, especially towards his adopted son. Caleb and Asvelas bowed low respectfully before the venerable man.
Brad inquired, "I am grateful for your assistance, Master David, but when you say 'as a unit', what exactly do you mean?"
"Has Lady Illaine not disclosed anything to you, my dear boy? Asvelas and Caleb have volunteered to join your investigative squad," David responded in a composed manner.
"Now I understand. To be frank, the High Priestess had conveyed her low expectations regarding your aid, but she neglected to mention that the blueprint was already set in motion," Brad replied.
"There is no blueprint, no predetermined path. Life is an improvisation. However, there are certain situations, my knight, where you either act swiftly or meet your demise. This, indeed, is one of those moments. Therefore, make your decision promptly, and choose your direction," David uttered in a stern voice, rising from his desk.
"May I ask where you are heading, Master?" Caleb inquired.
"At Lady Illaine's behest, I brought you all together. That is the extent of my contribution here. Anything further would be beyond my temperament. You are now a company. As any successful company, I suggest that you collaborate, respect one another, and be forthright in your communications. May your journey be prosperous, gentlemen," David stated, gazing into each of their eyes.
After a simple salutation, the old wizard departed towards the southern gate and vanished from sight.
Caleb addressed the others, "So where were we? I advise that we commence the operation?"
"And what do you propose, Master Wizard Caleb?" Brad inquired.
"Simply Caleb is sufficient. If we can procure further knowledge regarding the Charl lineage, we may gain a better understanding of the woman's intentions. If that's the knight's thinking, that's the route we'll take," Caleb elaborated.
"Well?" Brad pressed.
"The usual procedures. Inquire around, pay a visit to the city library, and, if need be, consult with Ilberius," Caleb replied.
"I'll never visit Ilberius again," Asvelas declared, grimacing and taking a step backward.
"Who is Ilberius?" Brad inquired.
"You'll know upon sight," Caleb said, grinning cunningly. "Shall we depart?" he inquired.
"After you," Brad responded.
The three men exited Celestia's emporium in unison.
* * *
The three hurried to the Flying Mare Inn to rendezvous with Ismeth. The ebon-skinned knight sat unobtrusively by the hearth, quietly sipping his ale. Once Brad had introduced the members of the newly founded unit, they deliberated on their next course of action.
"In that case, Caleb and I will proceed to the Great Library. Ismeth, you and Asvelas are to scrutinize all the lodgings that are unremarkable enough to harbor a lone female traveler without arousing suspicion," Brad delineated the task distribution.
"Well, that certainly curtails our alternatives," Ismeth observed. "We'll manage. However, Brad, cast your gaze to that corner over yonder," he directed and gestured toward one of the balconies on the upper floor.
Brad gave Ismeth a knowing nod and both of them rose to their feet. "Hey, where are you two off to?" Caleb objected.
"We have a trifling issue to settle. We'll be back in a trice," Brad informed Caleb.
"See to it that you don't become indebted to anyone," Caleb rejoined with a smirk.
Brad and Ismeth ascended the stairs to the balcony with a deliberate and unhurried pace, savouring every step as if it were a momentous occasion.
Ismeth, determined to make the most of the experience, strode ahead and approached the table, where a fair-haired man was intimately seated with two comely women in a private section reserved only for the most affluent clientele.
He addressed the man in a severe tone, "Pray tell, are you not an aspirant of knighthood, fair-haired fellow? Whatever brings you to this place at such an hour?"
Derek Derylson turned around and upon seeing Ismeth in place of his superior, he relaxed somewhat but was also visibly flustered. "Elphered has gone out for some fresh air. May I inquire as to what brings you, gentlemen, to this establishment?" he asked, casting a quick glance at Ismeth and Brad with a puzzled countenance.
"Gentlemen? Did they not teach you in your training to rise when addressing your superiors, rookie?" Ismeth raised his voice, and the uneasy looks of the other patrons became even more pronounced. Brad nudged him gently to restore calm.
Derek gazed at them, completely perplexed. Ismeth stiffened, indicating the coat-of-arms on his jacket and belt, and gave a suggestive wink to Derek. When Derek caught sight of the emblem, his face turned scarlet and he couldn't believe what he was seeing. "How on earth?" he uttered incredulously.
"Have you grasped who's superior to whom now, Deryl seed?" Ismeth whispered, leaning forward to murmur in Derek's ear and then giving a hard squeeze to the aspiring knight's shoulder.
Derek grimaced in pain, while his face flushed an even deeper red. "How could you?" he asked, astonished and trying to resist the pain.
Ismeth went on teasing Derek and squeezing his shoulder, taking it too far until Brad urged him to stop. Once he was sure Derek's shoulder was bruised, Ismeth reluctantly halted the joke and straightened up.
"Anyway, rookie, I pardon you for this once. Get out of here quickly. Look, he's still seated there. Didn't we remind you to return to your duty, knight aspirant? Or should we settle this matter with your superior?" Ismeth kept taunting him, assuming a stern expression.
Derek, silently apologizing to the women beside him, promptly got up and left the inn without glancing back. Ismeth and Brad returned to their table and burst into laughter.
"I'm genuinely curious. What went down, gentlemen?" Caleb inquired, looking intrigued.
"We just settled an old score," Brad responded. "Come on, let's go," he added.
The four men departed from the inn at noon and set off in pairs, heading towards their destination.