Sherly's antique shop is always filled with items, each with its own story.
In every corner of the store, there are objects that may seem ordinary, but to those who know, each item holds a deep history. Like the diary sitting on the table, an old book weathered by time.
Beatrix had read every page with great attention, as if she were searching for something beyond the words on the page.
Sherly, who had been quietly sitting and enjoying her tea, looked at Beatrix with a meaningful gaze.
As both a friend and partner in many adventures, Sherly knew how serious Beatrix could be when she focused on something, especially when it involved a mystery.
However, Sherly also knew when it was time to give Beatrix space to reflect in silence.
The silence stretched on until finally, Beatrix carefully closed the diary, placed it on the table, and took a sip of the tea Sherly had prepared.
The calm atmosphere that had once filled the room now shifted into one of tension.
Beatrix set her cup down roughly, as if frustrated, and Sherly simply stared at her quietly, waiting to see what would happen next.
"Do you have something you want to ask?" Sherly finally broke the silence with a calm but meaningful tone.
Beatrix looked at her for a moment before handing the diary to Sherly.
Her pinky finger tapped the book, as if trying to confirm what was inside it.
"Is this book... authentic?" she asked, her eyes never leaving the book now in Sherly's hands.
"Are you asking about the authenticity of the writing, or the author?"
Sherly responded calmly, with a tone full of scrutiny.
"Both,"
Beatrix answered, her voice slightly tense.
Sherly paused for a moment, her eyes closing as if pondering something distant. Then, she opened her eyes and softly said,
"I don't know."
The answer surprised Beatrix.
She stared at Sherly, confused, as though she couldn't believe what she had just heard.
But Sherly continued,
"However, I'm fairly certain it's probably genuine."
Beatrix went silent, sensing the sincerity in Sherly's words, even though they were spoken in an ordinary tone.
She knew how often Sherly found herself in risky situations, and more often than not, Sherly's instincts were right.
Yet for the first time, Beatrix felt some doubt.
Was what she held in her hands, this book that seemed no more than an antique, really a clue, or just another object that deepened her confusion?
"I lost a bet playing cards with the kid next door, so now I have to say I'm sure this book is real, haha..."
Sherly suddenly laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood.
But Beatrix was not easily swayed.
Although she knew Sherly often joked, Beatrix also knew that sometimes behind her jokes, there was an unspoken truth.
Beatrix resumed her intention to grab another book, but Sherly quickly said,
"Wait, there's something else you need to know."
Beatrix stopped and looked at Sherly, who now seemed a little more serious.
"What is it?"
Sherly carefully set her tea cup down and spoke in a deeper tone,
"I just got this book two days ago. Before the person who gave it to me left, they left a message."
Beatrix listened intently, feeling every word from Sherly like a sign she had to understand.
"Your friend will arrive in two days, and you will give them this book. Then, you will speak as if you believe in this old book."
The statement sounded very strange to Beatrix, as if something impossible could not just happen like that.
But when Sherly continued,
"This is real. I say that because I lost a bet yesterday," Sherly smiled.
Upon hearing those words, Beatrix's expression grew even more serious.
"The person who gave you this book, are they still in the city?"
Beatrix asked, her tone filled with hope.
Sherly furrowed her brow, her confusion now showing.
"Are you seriously asking about that person?"
"I'm serious, Sher," Beatrix replied, emphasizing the name with certainty.
Sherly paused. Beatrix had never called her by that nickname before.
For a long time, Beatrix had always called her by her full name.
But now, there was a different feeling between them, as if something greater than just words lingered in the air.
"Alright, alright," Sherly finally said.
"It seems you're serious about this. But I have to tell you, I think they're still in the city."
Beatrix felt her heart race. She could sense that what Sherly said was true.
Everything was starting to make more sense.
"Can you describe them?"
Beatrix asked eagerly, wanting to know more.
"A mysterious man, wearing a black cloak, with black hair, and eyes as blue as the sky,"
Sherly answered, her tone a little strange, as if she wasn't entirely sure about the description.
Beatrix didn't mind how Sherly described the person.
For Beatrix, what mattered now was finding that mysterious man, because she believed he held the key to uncovering everything that had been troubling her.
"Are you sure he's not a fraud?"
Sherly asked, doubtful.
"Wasn't it you who told me about the bet and the unexpected words from that person?"
Beatrix replied, her voice now more assertive.
"But it could just be a coincidence,"
Sherly answered, trying to introduce some doubt.
Beatrix smiled slightly, then with firm conviction said,
"I'd rather say it's an unexpected destiny."
Seeing the certainty in Beatrix's expression, Sherly fell silent.
She knew Beatrix rarely said something with such certainty, and now, Sherly could only sigh deeply.
"Alright, if that's the case, we'll find him. I've met him before."
Beatrix smiled with satisfaction,
"Let's find him before he leaves this town."
With that, they both stood up and walked out of the now-silent antique shop, ready to face the big surprises that might await them.
***
The city of Divrik is always bustling, with the rumble of thousands of footsteps blending with the clamor of daily life.
Atop a towering building in the city center, a man in a black cloak sits calmly.
In his hand, a skewered piece of roasted meat that has already shrunk, leaving only the wooden handle, now beginning to peel.
His face is partially hidden beneath the hood of his cloak, but his sharp blue eyes are keenly observing the hustle and bustle below.
He does not appear hurried, unlike most people in the city.
With his neatly groomed black hair and skin that seems untouched by direct sunlight, this man seems more like someone who has lived in the shadows for a long time, avoiding attention.
However, today, he has chosen to sit atop this tall building, enjoying a moment of peace.
"A truly calm and peaceful day,"
he mutters quietly while taking a bite of the last piece of meat.
His voice is low, as though he is speaking to himself, but there is a deeper feeling in his tone, as if the world around him has long ceased to shake his tranquility.
The man continues to watch the people passing by below, enjoying the view of the never-sleeping city of Divrik. Except for him, of course.
His eyes occasionally glance around, making sure nothing is disturbing his peace atop the building.
After some time, the roasted meat is gone, and he casually tosses the skewer's handle aside.
His long, slender fingers reach into the dark pocket of his cloak.
With a careful movement, he pulls out a dry leaf from inside.
The leaf looks ordinary, except that there is writing etched onto it.
Not just any writing, but the name Deteo Horcein, the owner of a café he visited in the western part of the city a few days ago.
This leaf is the first clue in his search.
A clue that has led him down a path that will not be easy to travel.
However, there is still one more leaf in his pocket.
This leaf is a bit smoother, its color slightly more faded, but still exuding a mysterious aura.
The man observes it closely, and on the leaf, there is another name.
Fin Rouberi.
He pauses, staring at the name as if trying to uncover more about the person behind it.
His sharp eyes scan the writing, considering every possibility.
He already knows a lot about Fin Rouberi.
But he has never met him in person, and this search is the reason he remains in this city.
Although there are no clear clues, he knows that the person's presence, or at least something important about them, is waiting somewhere.
"The time is almost here," he murmurs softly.
He feels something stir within him, a kind of push that forces him to keep moving forward.
But this time, he feels something different—a wave coming from within, as though awakening him to the realization that this search is more than just the desire to find someone.
It's about uncovering something much greater.
He looks back at the leaf with the name Fin Rouberi.
Suddenly, the leaf begins to rustle. The tip of the leaf starts to smolder, a small flame igniting slowly from its edge.
Along with it, the scent of burning begins to fill the air, drifting into the nose of the man in the black cloak.
The smoke forms an unclear pattern, as if delivering a message from a distant place.
The man takes a deep breath, inhales it, and smiles faintly, though his smile seems more like a warning to himself.
"It's like a storm is coming tonight," he says softly, squinting as he looks at the sky, which is beginning to darken.
He knows that a significant event he's been waiting for is about to unfold.
Perhaps the storm he speaks of isn't literal.
But a series of events that will have a major impact on the people of this city.
Calmly, he closes the burned leaf and puts it back into his cloak's pocket.
Once again, he stands on the rooftop, his movements smooth but precise.
His body arches forward, and without hesitation, he leaps to the adjacent building.
The speed and agility of his movement are almost like a shadow.
So fast that it cannot be caught by the eyes of an ordinary person.
With a single jump, he lands on the roof of another building and continues his journey toward the north side of Divrik.
His destination is the largest market in the country, a place filled with thousands of people crowded together, where various goods are sold at unpredictable prices.
However, the man in the black cloak is not interested in the goods being sold.
He knows there is something more important awaiting him in that market.
Something connected to the name Fin Rouberi, which is not just a name on a dry leaf but also part of a puzzle that will bring about significant change.
The market is at the edge of the city, and as he gets closer, the sounds of people shouting and offering their goods grow louder.
But the man remains calm.
He already knows what he is looking for.
Though he has not yet met the person, he knows exactly what they are like.
A person with cruel tendencies and immense power, hiding behind an ordinary life.
Amidst the market's chaos, the man in the black cloak walks calmly.
His sharp eyes continue to search, scanning the crowd, and not a single person notices his presence.
He knows the answer to his search lies within this place.
But whether he should intervene in what is about to happen or let fate take its course is a question that can only be answered when the time comes.
"I am also part of fate, so let fate answer," he says in a low voice.
He then continues walking through the crowd, eventually disappearing into it.
***