Ranni wore a tight grey elastic dress that ran the length of her figure before fluttering out below the knees. Her platinum hair was curled, flowing onto her graceful shoulders.
Alluring. Everything about her made Mark question how long he could keep this strictly 'business.'
'Wait, is this even a business relationship? I'm in her home meeting her father…'
Mark deemed the thoughts useless in the moment. He did have real business he needed to discuss, and quite urgently.
"I wasn't interrogating him," Alex rolled his eyes. "Mr. Abbott here was just telling me that he had some things to discuss with you, and I was a bit peeved that he didn't want to share."
"Well, Mark and I can talk about it privately on our way out then," Ranni rolled her own eyes as she pulled an expensive black coat off a rack, setting it around her exposed shoulders.
"Out? You're leaving? I thought you were going to rest. Where are you going?" Alex nearly entered a mad scramble.
"Clothes shopping," she replied, opening the elevator doors.
Mark was surprised, but ultimately walked into the elevator with Ranni, turning around and waving goodbye to Alex, who looked utterly crushed.
…
The two sat in relative silence inside, listening to the rhythmic dings of the elevator passing each floor.
"Sorry if he gave you any trouble," Ranni said.
"It's no problem. He seems good. I can tell he cares for you."
Even in the cold Autumn, the elevator remained cold. Mark could feel his forehead nearly break out into a sweat as the small room filled with hot air.
He nervously fidgeted around in his pockets, unsure what to say next. Ranni seemed to be worse off, with no real pockets of her own to fidget with.
"Are we friends?" Mark asked, though with a strange mix of confidence and confusion.
Ranni shot back a confused glance.
"You're quite dense, you know that?" Ranni muttered.
'What's that supposed to mean?'
Another silence emerged as Mark entered deep thought—not really wanting to answer a question on whether or not he was an idiot. He'd rather answer his own question silently.
Though even then he struggled to come out with anything conclusive, opting to return to the task at hand—conversing.
"I'm glad you're doing well, after the Attack and all," Mark said. "Though it seems like things might not be going so well for Humanity if your Father returned from the Elven Realm."
"Is that what you wanted to talk about?" Ranni shot back a glance, making her adverseness to the mention of the Demon's Attack clear.
"Just talking to talk. Unless you want to rush into straight business, we can."
Ranni sighed; she seemed a little tense, but the brief exhale cleared most of it.
"Let's not," Ranni shook her head. "Need to get some fresh air. Been a bit under the weather since…"
"I get it. Speaking of, why exactly are we going clothes shopping?"
Ranni turned her head, judgementally looking Mark up and down, who still wore his Academy uniform.
"Come on," Mark pleaded against her irking gaze. "All my brand new clothes burned to ash."
"That's why we're going," Ranni stated. "I know it's bad to say, but I'm somewhat glad your clothes burned."
"What?"
"You cheaped out on that suit, back at the KB Club," Ranni slyly smiled. "I don't want to imagine the rest of your wardrobe."
"Was it really that bad?"
"Eh, not exactly. The tailoring look did a lot of the heavy lifting."
"You're saying I look good, just that the suit was shabby?" Mark tilted his head toward her as he jested.
"No. Just that you'd actually look better in a better suit."
The doors opened with the two in better spirits, stepping out to the sterile Guild lobby. Cold as ever. It seemed like the top brass at the Luikots Guild enjoyed their magical air conditioning and felt the need to share.
They gave a brief wave to the secretary—who gave a strange look to the pair without entirely giving away her corporate-trained hospitality—before stepping out into the bustling sidewalks of the Glass Tower District.
Ranni kept her eyes forward for the most part, as she usually did. Mark on the other hand was much more paranoid, not only of the common man's attention, but also that of his potential pursuant.
"Aren't you easily recognizable in public? How come you don't dress conspicuously?" Mark asked.
"I don't need to inside the Glass Tower District. Unless you're a Raymond, whatever attention you receive here is manageable. Why do you ask?"
"I was recognized twice on my way here. It's quite troublesome."
"Just don't let it get to your head."
"Of course."
"Anyways," Ranni changed the subject. "Give me a brief rundown of what you need."
"First and least was housing. I was wondering if you could recommend me somewhere to live. My dorm burned down."
"Oh that's easy," Ranni replied. "You can just stay in a Luikots apartment for free. Usually, that's only for full-time members, but an accommodation can be made for you."
"Quite the philanthropist you are. Thanks."
"What next?" she beckoned.
"You ran a background check on me, right?"
"For vetting purposes," Ranni ensured to state for the record.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I need it. Really badly."
"Because you lost your memories?"
"Yes."
"Hah, I almost forgot about that. Alright, when we get back I can give it to you. Though it isn't much."
Mark stopped dead in his tracks along the sidewalk, causing Ranni to stop a few steps ahead.
His eyes and ears were discerning the scene around him, seemingly piercing a veil with great depth. A strange sensation washed over him.
"What is it?"
"We're being followed," Mark stated, keeping his eyes forward as he returned back to a walking pace.
"Hmm," Ranni thought as she came closer to Mark. "Quite obvious now that you mention it."
It was a strange gaze, like a predator just out of range. An unusual sense of enmity leaked out of it—though its origin point seemed invisible to Mark's eye.
"Tell me," Mark began. "What church do I belong to?"
"The Church of the Father," Ranni replied succinctly.
'As I suspected, it wouldn't be the Traveler, and it especially wouldn't be the Mother. That should eliminate the non-Human Gods as well.'
"Is our unwanted guest and the Church of the Father related?" Ranni asked.
"What church is—"
…
"Mark…?"
Mark's gaze was trained on another. A stout man with a short brown middle part, blue eyes, and rectangular glasses appeared in a suit.
Ronald Montour approached the two, a slight smile on his typically neutral and stoic face upon seeing Ranni.
"Oh, hello there Ronald," Ranni said with a tinge of surprise.
"Ranni, it is good to see you well. Are you faring well?" Ronald asked with a strange kindness to his voice.
Before even approaching, Ronald shot Mark a wicked glance. Now that he interacted with Ranni, it was as if Mark no longer existed.
But Mark couldn't care less about the attention; his focus was on Ronald's neck.
He didn't need to hear Ranni's answer. Mark saw it.
Under Ronald's collar hid a gold necklace. He caught a glimpse of the Father's symbol:
A radiant sword that was halfway unsheathed.
The puzzle pieces instantly clicked in his mind.