Tivian, East District.
In the daylight hours, the bustling Silver Road of East Tivian was full of people as always. Near a nondescript alley branching off the street stood a little-visited general store. Within it, a secret conversation was quietly unfolding.
In a dimly lit, well-furnished room behind the storefront, Gregor, dressed in formal wear and wearing his own face, sat on a comfortable leather couch. Smoking a cigarette, he stared at the document in his hand. After reading it for a while, he frowned and spoke.
“So… I’m being told to keep an extra close watch on the captains of the Serenity Bureau—to see if any of them start showing behavior similar to Misha Devonshire?”
“Exactly,” replied Donald, the mildly overweight man in a shirt standing beside Gregor—owner of the general store and Gregor’s Eight-Spired Nest contact.
“That same kind of behavior—like Lady Devonshire, obsessed with exposing the Nest’s schemes, refusing to let go, even going so far as to defy superiors. Even if it’s not as extreme as Misha’s case, any obvious signs must be reported to the Nest.”
Gregor set the document down and puffed slowly on his cigarette, thinking aloud.
“The Nest wants me to investigate whether there are any other ‘black dogs’ inside the Bureau—officers secretly conducting their own investigations like Misha did.”
Donald nodded.
Gregor paused briefly, then answered.
“Actually, ever since the Bureau was ordered to stop actively pursuing the Nest and shift its investigative priorities, discontent has been widespread. Several stationed captains have all expressed varying degrees of frustration. It’s just that Misha stood out the most. Now within the Bureau, there’s constant private speculation among the black dogs about what the higher-ups are really doing—especially since Misha’s death was officially ruled an accident. Many suspect there’s more to it.
“If you ask me, there are quite a few people in the Bureau who might be secretly running their own investigations. If we had to make a list, it’d probably be a long one.”
Donald hesitated for a moment, then asked.
“Then let’s focus on this: investigate which people in the Bureau were especially close with Misha Devonshire—those who might have shared information with her.”
Gregor nodded but replied with some reservation.
“I can try, but with my current clearance, I probably won’t be able to access much, especially info related to the stationed captains.”
Donald reassured him.
“Don’t worry about your status. Thanks to your part in Misha’s death, they consider it a great service. The Nest has already used its influence to secure a promotion for you. Soon, you’ll officially be notified of your advancement within the Bureau. You’ll become a White Ash-rank squad captain yourself, which will give you the access you need. At that point, you can approach the other captains as a peer and figure out if any of them are hiding agendas.
“If necessary, you can even pretend to be disillusioned—just like Devonshire was. Act as though you too are conducting secret investigations, to gain their trust.”
Donald spoke seriously. Gregor took a long drag from his cigarette and mulled it over. After several moments of silent contemplation, he nodded slowly.
“Fine… I’ll give it a try. But for it to work, I need that promotion to go through. Tell the Nest to make sure it happens soon.”
“Of course,” Donald replied with a grin. The two continued to discuss other intelligence matters in the dim backroom.
…
Meanwhile, also in East Tivian, inside an ordinary-looking building, a well-lit living room held a quietly significant scene. The aged John Acheson sat in his robe, draped in a housecoat, in an armchair. Through thick glasses, he looked toward the familiar man standing before the sofa—the mysterious figure who called himself Detective and who had once saved his life.
“This is what we found in Ampere Devonshire’s tomb. You should be able to decipher the writing,” said Ed, dressed in a trench coat and short top hat, as he pulled a silver pendant from his clothes and handed it to John.
John reached out and took the pendant, glancing at it before looking back at Ed with astonishment.
“You’ve already found Ampere’s tomb and brought something back? That’s… astoundingly fast…”
“We have connections with the Devonshire family,” Ed replied flatly.
“Let’s not dwell on the details—just look at the item.”
John nodded and lowered his head, examining the pendant closely. He gently ran a finger across the front emblem and murmured.
“This is the Four Guardians of the Moon Crest… It was made by Old Faith adherents during the Wind King’s Rebellion, supposedly inspired by relics from the ruins of the Queen of the Night Sky. It was used as a unified emblem by their side during the conflict. At its core, it’s a retro-style piece. Honestly, I doubt even they knew what it really symbolized. To think Ampere, the greatest traitor of the Old Faith, would be buried with something like this…”
Still staring at the crest, John didn’t immediately examine the rest of the pendant. He cautiously ran his fingers along the edges, eventually feeling a strange texture along the back of the shield.
“The inscription is on the reverse. Bring me a high-grade cognitive poison safeguard kit. The better the quality, the faster I’ll be able to decode it.”
As a seasoned extraordinary archaeologist, John continued feeling the markings as he spoke. But Ed calmly replied:
“No need for the standard poison-defense tools. I have an Honorific Name. Just recite the prayer, and you’ll be able to read it safely.”
“An Honorific Name?”
John lifted his head, eyeing Ed curiously. Ed smiled faintly with an air of mystery.
He then softly uttered the strange and Honorific Name. John listened, then frowned in deep thought, unable to recall it from any historical source.
“Aka… Recorder of All Things? Is that the divine being you worship? I’ve read quite a few texts on mystic history, and I’ve never come across that name. What kind of domain does this god belong to?”
“There’s no need to ask about specifics,” Ed said simply.
“All you need to do is believe. I have no reason to harm you, Professor Acheson.”
John thought it over. Given his current position, it was true that Ed had no reason to deceive or hurt him. He nodded in quiet agreement—then recited the unfamiliar and mysterious Honorific Name aloud.
After reciting the invocation, John took a deep breath. Using his hand, he shielded most of the inscription on the back of the pendant, then slowly rotated it to bring the text into view. Narrowing his eyes, he studied the inscription. Once he finished reading it, his eyes widened slightly. He touched his forehead, checked his state, then turned to Ed and said with wonder.
“Incredible… Reading this kind of ciphered message didn’t affect me at all. Is your Aka really protecting me? Is there a divine being watching over me right now?”
His voice carried a hint of unease. Ed calmly reassured him.
“There’s no need to panic, Professor John. Praying to Aka and receiving Their protection doesn’t mean They are actively observing you. Aka has selflessly shared a portion of Their authority with Their followers. What you experienced was simply contact with a fraction of that power. Other than granting you protection, it won’t cause any further effects. Please focus on your decoding.”
“A shared fragment… of divine authority? Amazing. To think that such a godly existence still walks within the inner world…”
John murmured in disbelief. After settling his emotions, he returned his focus to the pendant and resumed his reading.
Now confident he was shielded from cognitive poison, John more freely examined the full inscription on the back of the pendant. Once he removed his hand, he began carefully studying the engraved text.
At last, after some time, John spoke again.
“This language is from the time of the Wind King’s Rebellion. It’s a version of ancient Pritt that was reconstructed by scholars from the Old Faith during the anti-Radiance reformation. It was primarily used by certain Old Faith scholars and priests during that era—not widely circulated.”
“What does it say?”
Ed asked.
John adjusted his glasses and answered.
“It’s a prayer.”
“A prayer?”
“Yes… a short invocation.”
John replied, then paused briefly before reciting with solemn cadence.
“The Glahomir’s Mirror reflects the Divine Realm of the Night Sky; it is also the gate to the Sanctum.
From the Silver Summit scrying lens, all Gates open in turn; with the Black Key in hand, pass through the Mirrored Veil.
The Servants of Night cross the Four Gates within the Mirror, preparing the Rite of Night.
The Hierarch passes through the Shadowless Gate;
The Presbyter through the Crescent-Blade Gate;
The Knight through the Longbow Gate;
The Scholar through the Abundance Gate.
Finally, the Jade Wheel Gate shall rise without a key;
The Sanctum shall reveal itself from within.
Outer and inner shall alternate,
And all followers of Night shall pass the veil of illusion and gather for the Rite.”
Seated in place, John recited the script etched behind the pendant. Listening carefully, Ed furrowed his brow.
“That’s a prayer? Sounds more like a riddle.”
“It can be both—a riddle and a prayer. As I understand it, this is a ceremonial sequence used by the former Mirror Moon Church. The entire process has been deliberately encoded into a liturgical form to enhance the sense of sacred mystery. This kind of veiled phrasing is common in many cults, including the Radiance Church.”
John continued examining the pendant as he spoke. Ed pressed further.
“So… can you extract anything meaningful from it?”
“Very little. I can only decipher the beginning. ‘Glahomir’ likely refers to Glamorne, the capital of Handshire. That was its old name. The ‘sanctum’ must be the temple of the Mirror Moon that Ampere discovered.
“As for the titles—Hierarch, Presbyter, Scholar—they correspond to clerical ranks in the old Mirror Moon Church. From my previous research, the Hierarch held a very high status—akin to the archbishops of the Radiance Church.
“That’s all I can decode. The rest—things like the ‘rite of Night,’ ‘mirrored gates,’ ‘black keys’—I’ve never encountered them before.”
John slowly laid out everything he could interpret. Using Ed’s sensory feed, Dorothy—observing from afar—fell into contemplation.
“Hierarch… Presbyter… Scholar… So the Mirror Moon Church used such ecclesiastical titles? Sounds rather similar to the Radiance Church. I wonder if there’s a historical connection between the two…”
“And this Handshire… If I remember correctly, it’s in the southwestern part of Pritt’s main island—next to my hometown, Igwynt County. Those two territories border each other. Hah, if I go there, maybe I can even stop by my old home and take a look…”
Dorothy smiled inwardly at the thought. Memories from this body’s childhood in Igwynt began to stir in her.
“Still, if I really want to revisit home, it’ll have to wait until after the temple business is resolved. Though most of this riddle-like prayer remains unclear, at least it gives me direction. We now know that the temple Ampere found—the one belonging to the Mirror Moon Goddess—is in Glamorne. We don’t know the exact spot, but like with Yadith, we can search once we arrive.”
“The Eight-Spired Nest has probably deciphered the prayer too. There’s no reason they’d be unaware of the Wind King’s Rebellion history. Once they recognized the name ‘Glamorne,’ they surely headed there as well. I need to set off immediately.”
With that thought, Dorothy once more directed Ed to speak to John.
“Thank you for your help, Professor John. Your translation was very valuable. We’re heading out now—please rest well here. If needed, we’ll return for more assistance. When the shadow over Tivian lifts, I believe you’ll be able to resume a normal life again.”
With that, Ed retrieved Ampere’s pendant, gave John a polite bow, then walked to the door and left.
In the quiet of the room, John remained in his armchair, silently pondering what he had just seen and read. Finally, he murmured.
“That god named Akasha… are They too watching the moon’s shadow of the night sky? I wonder… how all of this will end…”