Illusions of Grandeur – Part One
A Mage Hunter short series
Hello incredible viewers!
I cooked up another spicy fantasy mystery for you all. These next few weeks I will be releasing a follow up, for what should be a total of three parts. Hope you all enjoy, and stay tuned for more!
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The scene drew a lot of attention of the Crown Guard. Despite the park's closure by the armored servants, the public's curiosity drew them like moths to flame, their whispered speculations carrying on the crisp late morning air. The air was thick with intrigue, and beneath it all, the cloying scent of decay. “Make way, make way!” the chief investigator barked as he cut through the crowd, escorting both founders of the Mage Hunters guild, Tychon and Rion.
“Great, now that we’re here, mind explaining what happened?” Rion insisted.
The chief held his tongue as he brought them to the epicenter of the scene: a heavy brown cloth concealing a corpse. With a nodded gesture, he commanded the guard to reveal the victim before turning to the two mage hunters, “tell me if this man looks familiar to you.” He revealed the distended corpse of a gnome. The scent of death was nauseating, but for the seasoned mage hunters it only caused a wrinkle in their faces.
The two gazed carefully. The remains underneath was barely recognizable—bloated, discolored, twisted by the slow crawl of decomposition. Even the fine noble garments, though soiled, hinted at a status that felt at odds with the undignified state of the corpse. “I’m not sure…” Rion confessed, Tychon?”
“I can only guess he’s someone important, judging by his outfit.”
The chief shook his head, and continued with a sigh “This gnome… was Magistrate Gimbly.”
Their eyes widened at the abrupt revelation, causing a thick of perplexity upon the two. “Wait, how is that possible?” Rion questioned, “The magistrates assembled just days ago. This body looks weeks old.”
“Our light priest over there conducted a Death Speak ritual. The spirit of Gimbly confessed he was murdered three weeks ago… by none other than the Thieves Guild.”
Ire spilled out from the two at the utterance of that infamed guild. “Of course…” Tychon spat.
“It seems they were attempting to infiltrate the magistrate by coercing a puppet. Gimbly played along at first, but he eventually refused, which the guild didn’t take too kindly of.”
Rion looked at Tychon, then returned his gaze upon the human chief, “Who attended the assembly if it wasn’t Gimbly? And where do we fit in, in all of this?”
“That’s something you’re going to help us figure out.” The chief crossed his arms. “Before passing on, Gimbly’s spirit gave us a name. Professor Ingsbald of the Arcane College.”
“Illusion magic,” both of them muttered simultaneously with an air of discontent.
“Of course, at least it’s not a shapeshifter,” Rion added.
“Illusion magic is incredibly tricky to deal with,” Tychon added, “I’ll go investigate Ingsbald.”
“Take Bella and Horner with you. They both have more experience with this type of trickery. By the way, chief, have there been any sightings of this fake ‘Gimbly’ recently?”
He shook his head, “Sadly, no. Seems he was only present for the assembly.”
“Very well. Tychon, you go on ahead. And Chief, get me a copy of the transcript for the Death Speak interview.”
***
The Arcane College bridge was eerily quiet thanks to ongoing classes, the sound of boots against stone muffled by the morning mist and the roaring waterfalls. With classes in session, there seemed to be no foot traffic other than the three mage hunters, led by Tychon, who walked the vacant bridge to the guardhouse occupied by an elven tenant. “Gentlemen, what can I do for you?”
“And lady!” Bella cried, raising her hand high, her small stature required an effort to be seen over the edge of the windowsill.
“Oh excuse me,” he returned a reaffirming smile, “what can I do for you?”
“We’re here to see Professor Ingsbald. Official business,” Tychon revealed his steel badge of authority to the guard.
With his smile broken, the guard replied, “sounds like it’s serious. I’m sorry, sir, he left a few days ago.”
“Do you know where he was headed?”
“Can’t say. He seemed to have been in a hurry.”
“I see. You know where we can find his office?”
“Of course…”
After a quick exchange, they followed the guard’s instructions to the second floor, taking the magical lift. This gave Bella an opportunity to vent a little, “I can’t believe it. I really liked Professor Ingsbald. He wouldn’t do that to a magistrate, would he?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me. Can never trust an illusionist,” Horner muttered.
Bella huffed in offense, “What the hell, Horner?! What about me? You can trust me!”
“After what you did to my coffee this morning?”
“C’mon I apologized! I didn’t know that was your mug. And it was just a little bit of milk!”
“AND sugar.”
“Augh, you can’t seriously keep a grudge over a little milk and sugar.”
“I saved up a lot of coin for that Bellbrew coffee. You do NOT add milk and sugar to their coffee.”
“Ugh! You’re such a baby!”
“Least I’m not as tall as one.”
Meanwhile, Tychon shook his head silently, holding back a smile over their goofy argument.
The corridor was lined with polished doors, each marked with golden plaques. As they approached the office, the senior spoke up, “Alright alright. Enough you two. Time to focus.” Out of courtesy, even without anticipating a response, he knocked on the door and waited for a moment before the three entered.
“Wait, shouldn’t it be locked?” Horner asked.
Tychon pondered for a second, “Good question… Do the professors normally lock their offices?”
“I never thought about it,” Bella answered. What was most surprising was how sanitized the entire office appeared. It was completely vacant, except with a bookshelf full of study materials containing both rudimentary and advanced spell weaving knowledge, allegedly belonging to the college – nothing was out of place here.
“He must’ve packed up and left,” Horner concluded, “Wonder if he knew about the murder beforehand.”
“Or whether he was the murderer himself.” Tychon suggested, “look around. See if he left anything.” A thorough search was conducted over a course of ten minutes. The office wasn’t big, and there wouldn’t be room to hide anything. The rugs were lifted, the drawers and shelves were inspected…nothing. Tychon then got an idea, “Bella, use your magic sense and see if you can find anything.”
She nodded, and enchanted her eyes to glow a brilliant bright blue. She gazed around and saw a glowing chromatic hue emanating from one of the books. The gnome narrowly was able to reach for the tome from her stature.
Tychon and Horner gazed to see what book she pulled, “Essentials in Rune Craft?”
“This is the only book with some sort of enchantment on it. An illusion enchantment, mind you.”
“Hmm…” Tychon placed his hand over the book, and called “dispel.” The book’s cover morphed and twisted, and the true form revealed to be a dark brown leather tome with no title. Tychon then tried to open it, only to find a keyhole, “Seems be his journal, but it’s locked.”
“Quite an important thing to leave behind,” Horner raised a brow.
“Out of sight, out of mind, maybe?” Bella suggested, “Think you can pick it?”
Horner took the book and brought out his lockpick kit. It was an amateur effort at best, in no time he was able to uncover the secrets of the journal. Tychon then took a moment to read through the pages, searching for any clues or revelations about this murder. “Well, the good news is he doesn’t seem to be the killer… The bad news is he is indeed implicated in setting up the fake magistrate. The Thieves Guild forced his compliance.” The senior gazed over the journal some more in silence, trying to find any clues to his whereabouts.
Horner observed Tychon’s shift in his expression after he read a passage from the journal, “What is it?”
Tychon hesitated for a moment, “If I’m reading this right, it seems a couple of his students may have joined the Thieves Guild. After everything that transpired, Ingsbald decided to flee, in fear of his life.”
“What does the last journal entry say?” Horner inquired.
Tychon carefully read the handwriting, “’Tomorrow morning I’ll make my leave. Don’t know where, wherever the first caravan leads. I’ll figure things out from there. Heavens guide me.’”
“Interesting…” Horner added, “I don’t buy it that he just randomly forgot his incriminating journal here. Something is up.”
“Agreed,” Tychon responded, “Let’s get a list of Professor Ingsbald’s students. Horner, since you’re quick, go check with the border guards about the caravans from each gate. Bell and I will check his residency and see if we can find anything.”
***
Rion sat buried under reports, sifting through the bureaucratic mire of minor magical infractions, and few pertinent ones. The transcript of the Death Speak ritual was off to his left, reserved in a special spot along with Gimbly’s murder case. The double doors opened into the mostly vacant building, walking in was Tychon and his two partners. “Hey, you guys find anything?” Rion inquired.
“You’re not going to like it,” Tychon responded as he lobbed a bundle of rolled up parchment onto his table.
Rion hesitated, but unraveled it with a curious glance. “Caravan manifests?”
“Ingsbald never left the city.”
He raised a brow, but Horner stepped forward to elaborate, “We believe he’s either hiding in the city, or they got to him.”
Bella added, “He wasn’t at the college, and he had a bunch of his belongings were packed up at his home. But we’re unable to find him.”
Rion rubbed his eyes from an esoteric pain and frustration, “Great. This mess is getting more complicated. Alright, we need to track him down. If Steppenwulf comes by, I’ll send him to help.”