[INTERLUDE]
The Moriagh met daily for meetings at a duplex house owned by the Baron.
Megraz pushed the door open. The house was quiet as always, but his weight made the floorboards groan in protest. The old giant of a man swept his gaze across the premises before proceeding to the meeting area, where he found Alkiad sleeping, legs on the table, swinging slightly in his chair.
He took a seat at the center of the room and pulled out a book—a new novel he had picked up at a local bookshop. After working for the Order the longest, everything seemed mundane, as if he had seen it all. Books offered something his life no longer did: wonder.
Megraz was too engrossed to hear the door sway open, but the rhythmic clicking of heeled shoes tore him from his book. Mizar stood at the door, all smiles. She was dressed like a noblewoman out to exhibit herself to the world in search of a worthy knight. Her long black dress clung to her lithe figure beautifully, accentuating her silhouette. The heeled boots added an inch to her height, while her heavy white woolen coat shielded her from the early morning cold.
"Early as always," Mizar's velvety voice forced Megraz to smile. He took her gloved hand and pecked it lightly.
"Stunning as always," Megraz replied, his husky voice lacking the musical quality of hers. Up close, he could see how Mizar's silky black hair was coiled into a beautiful chignon and how her brown eyes sparkled. The cold had done her an injustice, reddening her normally pale skin.
To him, he could not revel in her beauty as many would, not because he was blind to it but because he no longer felt charmed by such things. His eyes were set on something else—something he deemed the most beautiful of all.
The door chimed open once more. There was no creaking of the floorboards, no squeaking of the stairs, no sound at all. He just appeared, walking in a slouch. Merak took the seat next to the still-sleeping Alkiad, silence hovering around him.
"Creepy," Mizar muttered, feeling chilled by his presence.
"Morning, Lieutenant!" Mizar exclaimed. Merak grunted in response. Mizar and Megraz resumed their casual conversation.
Alioth, ever the gentleman as Alkiad called her, was the next to arrive. She was always burdened with the brightest smile Megraz had ever seen, and it only seemed to brighten when she saw Alkiad sleeping. She approached him, waiting for the right moment, then kicked one of the chair's hind legs.
"Oh, fuck!" Alkiad yelled, jolting awake.
Alioth's unladylike laughter echoed through the room. She was tall for a woman, her Caesarian heritage granting her more than just height. Her long golden hair matched her glowing yellow eyes, her olive complexion set against an angular face. A beauty, but not quite Mizar's equal.
A sudden shift in air pressure forced Alioth to swallow her laughter and quickly take a seat next to Megraz, while Alkiad groggily picked the one opposite her, next to Mizar.
From the portal, Dubhe, Phecda, and the royal liaison Grianne stepped out. The chatter ceased as they took their seats. Phecda, for some reason, always wore his armor, never taking it off no matter the occasion.
Alkiad, the recent addition, was still adjusting to everything. A top graduate of Dún Scáith, he had an outstanding run with the Inquisition before messing up a few months ago. The only reason his military career wasn't over was because of family connections that paved a way for him to join the Moriagh.
Despite their high reputation within the empire, he had come to one conclusion about the noble Moriagh: to him, it was nothing more than a collection of clusterfucks. Each was as much of a mess as he was—save for Phecda, who was apparently here of his own accord.
Phecda placed three projectors on the table one after the other. Today's meeting was different. They were reporting to the three pillars of the empire, as the Emperor deemed it unfit to address "fuck-ups." Alkiad had never met them in person and hoped he never would, especially the Titan.
Grianne drew her wand, chanting to activate the spellwebs within the devices. The projectors enabled the pillars to astral project, giving them a virtual presence from anywhere in the empire, as long as they had mages beside them.
The Moriagh each stood, summoning their armor.
A gentle whir filled the room as the devices projected glitchy portraits of the pillars. There was a grunt of static before the projections stabilized. The Moriagh saluted before taking their seats once more.
"Let the meeting begin," the Titan ordered, his projection in the center. Dubhe stood, a file in hand.
"There have been no reports of missing children since our arrival, but the current toll stands at forty-eight. The trail is cold. There is no evidence of forceful abductions, leading us to believe the culprit may be either a cultist or an entity from an Otherworld."
"Is there any residual forbidden magic?" The wiry voice of the Chancellor posed the question to Grianne.
"No, sir," Grianne replied, pushing down her coat as she stood. "But we have found traces of unsanctioned magic in a bookshop in the Northern Borough, belonging to one Dùghall O'Brien. I requested the Inquisition for more information on him."
"What are his activities?" the Titan inquired.
"It appears he is teaching magic to Gina Mac Tyr, the Baron's daughter."
"Is the Baron aware?" the Chancellor followed up.
"No, he is oblivious."
"Do not engage. You will spook him. Observe for now and engage only when necessary. Let's move on to the Buachaill Rua."
"The red-haired boy is apparently mute, and when I tried to read his memories, I experienced severe backlash. It was as if he was enchanted, but it wasn't a spell—it was something else," Grianne reported.
"Where is he now?"
"He has been wandering the city, tagging along with Cian, a local kid working for a pimp in the Eastern Boroughs," Alkiad answered.
"From what I've gathered, he is highly skilled in swordsmanship and carries himself with noble etiquette. He is probably a bastard, hence the lack of information on him."
"What about the Cian boy?" Nessira, the only female pillar, asked.
"He's a local orphan from the tail end of the Sectarian War, raised in an orphanage in the southwest region of the city. He has shown promise as an Inquisitor, so I recommend him to the Inquisition," Alkiad finished.
"Something is brewing in the city, and it's too late to reschedule the Samhain celebration. Solve this before then," the Chancellor remarked.
"The Inquisition will send information on the mage by the end of the week. As for the Buachaill Rua, be cautious—we do not know who or even what he is, so engage only when necessary," Nessira reinforced.
"There is another development: Crown Prince Hremon will be attending. A few Fianna will arrive in advance. Coordinate with them and solve this before his arrival. For now, the meeting is adjourned," the Titan bellowed.
Grianne dispelled the projection spell. Alkiad felt his chest loosen, relief washing over him.
Dubhe called for an internal meeting.
"Alkiad, you will still tail the boys, but from today, you'll partner with Alioth. Megraz and Mizar, you will watch the bookstore. Merak, you will shadow the Baron's daughter everywhere except the bookstore. The rest of us will tour the city and enjoy its pleasures," Dubhe smirked as the rest grumbled, especially Alkiad.
Alioth approached Alkiad, draping an arm over his shoulder. "Where do we start, handsome?"
"Probably the warehouses. Maybe they're around there."
"And after?" Alioth cupped his cheek affectionately.
"I told you, I'm not fucking you."