Seemingly having failed to discern anything, the man instead inquired, "What happened? Is it related to this box? Where did you get it?"
Asher was taken aback, how could the detective not know? He had presumed the ring was one of his possessions.
"You see, Detective, I was sent to the storage room by Henry for some matters earlier. During my visit, I chanced upon this box. At that time, it had a ring in it. When I touched the ring, it was colder than a pole during winter. My skin immediately froze over, at which point I had the sense to retract my hand. When I did so, I noticed some blood left on the ring from the injury. The blood seemed to disappear from the surface of the ring. It was very strange, almost like the ring drank the blood. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I assure you I have better jokes to tell."
Mr. Bolard didn't seem even a little taken aback by his story.
Instead, he glanced at my left hand for a moment, then he let out a long sigh.
"Where is that ring now?"
Asher was a little confused; hadn't the detective just been inspecting it?
"It's on my left hand now. I've been wearing it since the incident occurred. However, much to my dismay, I belatedly learned I could not take it off.
Twisting, pulling, soap, and water, nothing works. It's not as if it's a supremely tight fit either. Upon noticing this, I realized I had to inform you. I'm no thief, Mr. Bolard."
Mr. Bolard seemed to understand something. He rummaged through his desk producing a bottle of whiskey.
After pouring two glasses, he sipped it silently before lighting up the half-cigarette from his ashtray. Pushing the glass of whiskey across the desk, he offered a sympathetic gaze.
"I see, that is indeed quite distressing. I applaud your diligence. Tell me, Asher, is there anything special about that ring? Anything that stands out?"
Asher glanced at the whiskey, contemplated for a moment, and then downed the entire glass.
Ugh, absolutely miserable stuff. That is only the gods know how people can enjoy this.
"There is an inlay on the ring. It's a masterfully cut opal in the shape of a crescent moon. Also, there is an inscription. However, it's in a language I've never seen before, even in my historical research and education."
Producing a pen, Mr. Bolard slid a notepad across the desk.
"Write it down for me."
Asher quickly obliged. He was very happy, grateful he hadn't been disregarded and recommended to the local sanitarium. He quickly jotted down,
"Somnus Aeternus."
Mr. Bolard looked at the notepad, thinking quietly. He pulled open a drawer, sifting through documents until he located the storage inventory from December.
Flipping through it for a while, he found himself out of pages. He sipped his whiskey and closed his eyes, lost in thought.
"If I'm not mistaken, that ring is likely a relic from Urbs Stellarum's distant antiquity. That in and of itself isn't that strange.
They do come around from time to time. Maybe once a decade, you can find one through one of the lesser-known auction houses.
Typically, they fetch astronomical sums. The kind of money that you and I wouldn't dare to imagine. The last one was auctioned in Menthil seven years ago. It sold for thirty million pounds.
It was a mask that resembled a jester's appearance. That being said, obvious or not, we do not have the capabilities to acquire such a lavish item.
There is no ring by your description within the storage room. All that standing, frankly, this issue somewhat escapes my capabilities.
There are some people I can reach out to, but I doubt they would be better equipped to address this.
Asher, you're a clever kid. You must have wondered why we hired you, right?
Well, we hired you for situations like this. We hope you can supplement the void of our historical knowledge.
Given the fact you were doing something similar for Hearth University, I thought you'd suit the role.
In general, there are no experts for most of the historical records in this period.
As for experts on Urbs Stellarum relics, well, they simply don't exist. They are suspected to have been owned by the former Knights Stella, who ruled much of the continent from 1300-1500.
Their throne residing in Urbs Stellarum, they were fierce and clever. If not for internal strife, most would agree we would be under their foot even today."
Asher was struggling to comprehend Mr. Bolard's words.
"This ring is 300 years old, formerly owned by royalty?"
"I see. So that's why they hired me. It still begs the question, though, where and how were they acquiring ancient historical records."
"Very well. At the very least, I don't think the relic is causing harm to me or others at present. I have to ask you, though, Detective, do you frequently come across similar such articles as this ring?"
Mr. Bolard poured Asher another cup of whiskey and put out his cigarette.
"Indeed, we often do. Our clients often have strange requests. Of those, roughly 40% are related to ancient ruins in some manner."
Asher had calmed down after downing that first glass. Instead, he mimicked the relaxed pace in which Mr. Bolard was enjoying his liquor.
"Bloody hell, that's dreadful."
Mr. Bolard pretended not to see Asher grimace, then remarked,
"There is no ring in the storage room by your description, and therefore it would suggest you have not taken anything from the company.
Asher, I must take this opportunity to remind you of the confidentiality clause as well as the non-disclosure agreement you signed in regards to the company.
Under no circumstances can you divulge your experience at the office today, at least outside of the office and sanctioned channels.
I will inquire on your behalf, still I will do so without disclosing your circumstance."
Asher was a little tipsy, still, he was relieved to hear that he wasn't going to be held responsible.
He had no qualms regarding his freedom of speech on the matter.
Loose lips sink ships after all.
However, upon hearing Mr. Bolard's closing statement, he felt a sudden sense of alarm.
"Last one... 7 years ago... 30 million... belonged to the Knights Stella..."
Asher quickly fixed his posture and shot a glance at Mr. Bolard
"Actually, do not inquire on my behalf in any capacity. While I may not know much, I do know somethings. Any mention of even a hypothetical relic of this caliber will cause trouble.
For you, the company, and myself. Instead, I will make efforts on my own to uncover their intricacies. Thank you, detective, I think it's best we never had this conversation."
Mr. Bolard seemed impressed by his new assistant.
"Indeed, your insight seems to ring true. Even though I trust the contacts I intended to send inquiries to, it could very well cause unforeseen consequences. If anything does happen, you can come to the office directly and consult with me or Henry. I will see you tomorrow morning after your morning sessions. Good day, Asher."
Asher placed his glass on the desk and picked up the box he had placed there.
Afterwards, he covered the words he'd written with ink and offered a sincere nod to the detective.
He half-turned around when he saw the document detailing the Jester's Guise.
He couldn't make out what was written due to his angle, but he did see a picture.
It was of a woman, perhaps 24, she had flaxen hair and gorgeous green eyes.
"Renee?"..