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-A'syuri J'ayei (Lost in the Shadow)-

-think that we should be moving elsewhere.
This place is good enough.
But they know-
This is good enough.
... yes, Herald.
Now leave. He's waking up.



Video: Act 3 Scene 1, Broken Masks


Lucia?



What happened?
I do apologise. I hadn't expected my men to be so... rough.
Your men...? ... The Herald.
I also apologise that you had to find out this way.
No. No.
I'm afraid it is true.
Tell me you're here to get me out.
Cicero-
Enough games, Lucia.
Cicero, calm down.
You traitor!



Songless bitch!



Ugh!
Agh!



Ophina... Corvus... It was you.
That was... necessary.
And Razitof. You have him. ... Answer me.



What did you do?
It was... relatively painless.
Y-you killed him?
He knew too much.
Damn it, Lucia! Why?! Answer me!
She has a plan.
What are you talking about?
How do you think the Dactites have stayed one step ahead of you, all this while? You think we were lucky?
The Lady.
You see.
Who is she?
... A visionary. Someone with plans for the Citte.
Someone who has turned you against us all? You've killed two Inspettores and a Regenti, Lucia, and for what?!
It had to be done! Sometimes drastic measures must be taken for the greater good.
Is that what your Lady has told you?
She is right.
Words of a revolutionary, and like every revolutionary that has passed, she, and all those that follow her will end up dead!
She is different.
Don't tell me you believe-
She is fey.
What?
She is of the ancient world, and she knows far more than you or I could ever hope to.
You're a madwoman. You're following a fey? A mindless, senseless-
You have in your mind the peasantry of their kingdom, but the Lady is nobility. She is more than just a beast, and she has plans to-
Plans to what? How can you believe that a creature like that could possibly be-
I have one of the artefacts!
Liar.
The Lady led me to it.
You expect me to believe you?
You already do. I can see it in your eyes, Cicero, I have known you too long. Yes. You are beginning to understand. How big, how vast this undertide of secrets is. The progress that you've made is just the key to understanding how much you don't know, how far behind you are.
Get out of my head.
There are worlds' worth of histories that are returning, and you have simply scratched the surface. What you learnt at the Pindrop is a morsel of what exists, a fraction of the knowledge held by the forces that you plan to fight against.
How did you know about the Pindrop?
Yes! Think! How is it that I knew? What powers are at my disposal, that I can glean such knowledge? You understand what you've pit yourself against? Not just yourself, but those who travel with you?
The unfathomable power of Knowing A Dude Who Saw You There.
You leave them out of this!
Spoken to a mirror! They have yet to cross the threshold. They don't need to, and if you reconsider your position, neither will you.
What?
You are here for a reason, Cicero. The Lady has plans for you, if you will accept them.
You think I'm insane?
Is it insanity for the gull to veer from the stormfront?

*AUGH THWACK CICERO?!*

They're here. You are a wise man, Cicero, and are modest enough to admit the limits of your perception... Let that awareness guide your decision. We will meet again soon, Cicero, and by then... I expect you to have thought long and hard about where you stand.





He's here!





Fine.



What's wrong?



... No...



-The Hand of the Spire-



... unless she wanted you to be found, wanted to send the message to us that she had the capacity to capture you... and was willing to let you go to prove that she was confident she could do it again. That has to be it. And Razitof... Damn it. And she said nothing to you? Nothing at all?
I've already told you what happened.
Tell it again, maybe you missed something.
You know I wouldn't-
Just do it.
... We were in the Golden Canvas, and we found out where the Dactites were hiding. We had a skirmish, that brought us out to the streets, and I thought I caught a glimpse of her face, so I followed her.
Without backup.
There was no time. She was expecting it. She baited me into a trap.
And then?
Next thing I know... I'm waking up to the sounds of explosions and I see Lucia arguing with a Dactite. The Dactite wanted me dead. Lucia didn't. That's when Tristan came in.
So you never spoke to her?
No.
What else do you remember? Why she betrayed the Registry? Why she's with the Maskrunners?
How many times must we go over this before you believe me?
What of Razitof's work, then? Where to find these artefacts? How to use them?
... Nothing.



Uh oh. It's always bad when you get called up to the desk.



Or...maybe not?

But-
I said bring him back. Unfortunately I didn't specify that he had to be alive. You did your job. This is your payment.
A dismissal?
Simply an ending of your contract with the Registry. And now, from hereon, you no longer act under the purview of the Registry and thus, we cannot protect you from the ramifications - or account for the responsibility - of your actions.
Of course... I understand.
Good. Then I'll see you around.



quote:

Razitof Azrus

There are many ways of knowing things in this world. Sometimes, that path lies between the pages of a book. Sometimes it lies in the experiences that are to come. And sometimes, it stems from an unidentifiable source; some things, you just know.

Others in different parts of our world might attribute the latter to some sort of divine presence - the gods themselves must have planted the seeds of the idea in his mind - and others might say that it was due to intuition. I am not here to advocate either idea, but I will admit that this sort of knowledge does exist.

When I'd first returned and heard that Razitof was missing, a part of my mind immediately told me that the search was futile. I suppose that was the rational part of me speaking, intent on keeping me from investing too much lest I pay the price later.

Now the price has indeed been paid, for his death rakes at my breast and makes breathing difficult. I would tell myself that I knew from the beginning - I'd just chosen to ignore the knowledge - but it would not make the grieving any simpler.

quote:

The Lady

A fey. Lucia claims that this Lady - this figure that she follows - is fey. And that baffles me. What is this reason of hers that's convinced her that a fey has the ability to guide her, and even worse, that all the atrocities she's committed have been worth it?

There is more than I am seeing, and I know not how to begin gleaning the truths. Perhaps Lucia is right. Perhaps...

Ages, what am I thinking?




quote:

Pale Isle: A History

The Pale Isle hadn't always been the Registry's Principal Ward. It was only in the Sixth Canticle, after a set of ruins known as the Black Crib was cleared out, that the citizens of Ombre realised that there was a great deal of undeveloped land that lay beyond the ruins, deeper under the shadow of the mountain Sierra Vede. When the expedition team reported back to the Registry and told them of the newfound space, the Registry moved quickly and decisively. The area was cleared of fey and rubble within a month and the infrastructure set up under that. The Registry shifted its base of operations from what is now Seimora's Throne to the Pale Isle in a matter of days and has ruled from there since.

Some say it is the sequestering of the Registry from the people it governs that has led to its loss of intimacy with them. Ever since the Registry uprooted itself and fled into the White Spire, the citizens that it's long governed have been growing more distant and less respectful of its edicts. How much longer the Registry will have control over the Citte remains to be seen, though it seems doubtful they'll have any more than a decade.


-Silence-



quote:

The Herald

All this while, she'd been lying to me, baiting me, using me. When I met her at the White Spire I knew she'd brought me back for a reason, but this...

It seems that more has happened in the past five years than I could have imagined.




It just seems a little bit cold, leaving you out in the dirt like that.
I think it's excellent. Now, it all depends on how the Marshal is going to spin it, eh?
I will tell Faveo that you have been dismissed from the case. He will likely still request that I watch you, seeing how close we are to learning what the artefacts actually did, but at least he will no longer associate this with the Registry.
Ah, how wonderful it is, to have such an honest spy among us, no?
Better an honest spy than a deceitful friend. Now, I take my leave. The Judgemaster should hear this from me in person.



You know about the artefacts?
Haha!
Cicero how does- Cicero?
Hmm?
Are you all right?
I'm fine. Just-
Help!



Someone in trouble.



What are they doing here?!

-Mars de la Fey-











In the corridor, sir, please. The Valencio needs help.
Tristan.

I forgot there was fighting this early in the scene



Cicero makes friends easily.

I suppose I could have thrown in Mud Drake again but I've been using that one a lot.






Tristan!
Aargh!
There is something beyond this wall, and it is not going to hold much longer.
Aargh!
Tristan, let go.
Fey...
Hold this wall up any longer and you will Salt.
I...
Tristan!
Do not let them pass.







Summons are relatively expensive; you need that Factotum upgrade to keep more than one going at a time.





Fey. A few of my men and I were walking through the hallways when they attacked. I don't know where they came from.
There are more of them beyond?
Yes. Allow me to recover, and I will summon the Portieri.
We don't have the time. Rest well.
Didn't we literally just go through a whole thing where Cicero got screwed because he didn't wait for backup? Oh well.



This mist, again.













No surprise the mists are thickest here.



Palov...?
This is torture.
We have to get him out of here.
The chair has been bolted to the ground. We must remove the stakes.
*mumble*
We're going to get you out of here, but we need to remove these stakes, do you understand?
No, Cicero, don't-



*screams*



What-



Not again.















Thank you... thank you...



Lost a lot of blood, but he'll make it.
We'll take over from here.
(We will meet again soon, Cicero...)
Cicero, are you all right?
Fine. I'd like to take a look around. Find out how this happened.
Of course. I'll leave you to it.



Summoning fey with his blood.
How?
She had agents within these walls. Must have done this before she pulled them out.
But why? What did she hope to achieve?
Keep searching.





The Sunken Star.



No. Nothing. Did you find anything?
Nothing but moldy old cases.
Same.
Well, I don't think there's anything left for us, here. We should go.
To the Hall of Songs?
Kalden. I'll go. The both of you can head back to the Astiguary. I'll meet you there.
Cicero... Did something happen in the prison?
What?
You seem, I don't know, a little... off.
Razitof is dead, Amadea.
I... I'm sorry.
I just need some rest. It's getting late.



Kairi?
Cicero, you need to see this.
All right, you can leave after this. Come on.

-The Conoscenza-



You were right, Cicero. Your theory that fey were made of the mist was correct, but I've spent the past few days distilling it.





Look at how bestial it is. There is no sense of order about it whatsoever. Now look at this.



It's inquisitive.
And I spilt no blood.
... How?
You were right about the mists - they are the building blocks of the fey. Places with a higher density of the mist have more fey, but what you mistook was the trigger.
Not blood, clearly.
It's... how do I put this? Emotion is a close approximate. I don't think our language has an equivalent... It's a... state of mind, it's an experience, it's a-
Shythe.
Gesundheit.
Yes. Exactly.
What's that?
Shythe. It was something the Dimenticate were trained to manipulate as they matured, though we've never learnt what for. It roughly translates to different mediums of thought, of being... It's difficult to explain. You're saying that various shythe create various fey?
Yes. Pain is easy to replicate, and the fey that that produces seems base but this one-
What were you thinking of?
... The first day that I was a Vegilus, walking into the Conoscenza, seeing all the knowledge that was at my fingertips.
And different states, feelings, thoughts, create different fey?
If there is enough mist in the vicinity, yes. I haven't boiled it down to a science, yet, but it's definitely on the way there.
As to the mists being more common...?
I still can't explain it. It's definitely true that it's growing more pervasive, but my research hasn't yielded answers as to why.
Well, this is more than enough. Thank you, Kairi.
Thank you, Cicero. Without you I doubt I ever would have gotten this far. This is... quite the discovery.
Of course.
And you were a large part of it, you know.
Are you trying to say something?
I just thought that perhaps... you might've been a little more enthused.
CICERO HATE HOMEWORK
I... apologise. My mind is... cluttered. Now, there are things that must be done, so if you don't mind...?
Of course. Rest well, Cicero.

-Ouij'tre (the Singing Tree Remembers)-





quote:

Dimenticate: Shythe

Our language has no word for it, but Amadea says the Dimenticate trained to manipulate them - these things called shythe, which summon fey. I am not a Vegilus and cannot even begin to guess the mechanisms of this concept I can barely grasp, but if we can find a way to use it to our advantage... Ages, I can feel the world shifting beneath my feet.




- Maybe you're right. Maybe us Dirges aren't that great after all.
- Now, now, that certainly isn't what I'm saying.
- What, then?
- Just that our Media doesn't make us any better than Sicarios or Pavisierres.
- You're right, you're right... But the Fabbra and the Artigiani - hoho, now have you seen those fools? Spending all their days playing with paint like children!
- Oh, Ages...

quote:

Dirges and Merumento

Dirges are Masquerada who practice Merumento, and specialise in the production of music through instruments. When the idea of Merumento had first been developed, it had been seen as something that no Masquerada would practice on the field of battle. After all, how could playing an instrument possibly be practical for anyone concerned with staying alive in the midst of battle?

Those who dared take the first step quickly quelled any naysayers. The distance that Merumento provides the Dirges in battle has been the key to their success. Dirges have the potential to subdue and cripple their foes before they have the chance to harm the Dirge, and as if that is insufficient, they are armed with the ability to breathe a flicker of life into thier elements through their songs, effectively summoning minions to work their wills.

To be too confident of the abilities of a Dirge, however, has led to many a death of the musicians, for the great focus required to hone their wills in battle leaves them with little mental latitude to work quick reflexes; Dirges often stand still while practicing Merumento and thus make easy pickings for other Masquerada who manage to evade their debilitating assaults.






- You really have to admire her persistence.
- It's been days!
- A pity she's still getting it wrong.





- I'm going left again! Why can't I get this right?! Argh! Ages take this, I give up! Farewell, Strawman. You win this time.



All right, sir.

-Canticle (Exterior)-



...
Brother? Are you asleep? Hey!
Seventh Canticle: Coins and Kin!
Oh, brother.
Don't be too harsh on him, Alena... It's been a tiring few days.
I know, I know.
I should be back soon with the Mariner.
We'll be here.





- Its leaves are so... orange!
- Agreed. Nowhere else in the country have I seen vegetation so... vibrant.
- Not even in the Estra! I wonder what it is that gives the flora here so much life.
- The Songstresses claim it is the water.
- This water flows elsewhere as well.
- Perhaps it is the songs. The flora only seems especially vibrant near this Hall.
- Perhaps...

quote:

The Estra Fantasmia

The Estra Fantasmia is a haunting forest that lies north of Ombre, far beyond the Echoing Plains. It is not a location that many have explored, for the wildlife and the fey that are to be found in that area are frightening and dangerous at best.

At first glance, the Estra is a beauty - the leaves of its trees are vibrant and nearly garish, and the amount of life to be found within is startling, but even a short venture beneath its boughs is certain to introduce any traveler to its dangers.

Despite its apparent hazards, the Estra is a favourite haunt of the Cacciatore of Ombre, not simply for the solace they find between the trunks of its trees - the Cacciatore are of the belief that studying what lives in the present is more likely to educate them about the secrets of the land than looking always to what lived in the past.






- Sir, I left you alone the last time, but please, I need to know what you're up to.
- I... It's embarrassing.
- Well, sir, this is public property and I'm afraid you're not allowed to simply-
- I'm singing to the plants.
- ... Singing?
- To help them grow, yes.
- Singing. Right. I... suppose that's acceptable.
- Wait... Did you think I was-
- Yes, I did.
- Oh... Now that's embarrassing...



- No, Davorn, you left us. You left us for those stupid colours. You cannot just come back. It's not that simple.
- Ava, put your pride aside. I joined the Labores for you! To feed you, to give you a better life-
- My life would have been better with you in it! Why can't you see that?!
- I... Ava, please...
- Keep your crescents. And don't ever come back to us. Goodbye, Davorn.





- No, this tree is of Altimirian origin.
- I'm certainly certain it is not. Its leaves are too waxy.
- Its trunk is too thin to come from Rhune.
- It's a baby Rhunic tree. Besides, it's too short to come from Altimire.
- Well it's a short Altimirian tree, then.



-Canticle (Rehearsal)-



quote:

The Fifth Canticle: Serpents and Ships

The Fifth Canticle is the longest Canticle that Ombre has seen in its history, lasting sixteen Mesura(185-248IL).

Many Vegilus consider this the age in which Ombre flourished the most - the arts blossomed greatly due to the Theralds; Meliare, Meseniare, Merumento and Mecantare were developed, and the existing Media further researched; trade between Ombre and the other nations boomed and brought a gushing of wealth into Ombre's coffers.

All of this did not happen in a vacuum, however. Other nations saw the wealth that was flowing across the Midnight Belt and pirates from all around began to raid the trading vessels, beginning a chapter of the Canticle called the Song of Crimson Tides, which lasted from 215IL to 225IL. The Sorelle was created in 220IL, in the midst of the war against the pirates.

After the pirates were dealt with, however, trade did not only resume - the other nations, having witnessed for themselves the strength of Ombre and how fiercely it would protect its(and by extension their) trade routes, sent their goods over the Belt with almost forceful generosity; every nation at that time attempted to curry Ombre's favour, for through the Song of Crimson Tides, it had proven its worth as an ally.

The Miscela began, and a great many Ombrians from the Randagia relocated to the Citte, vying for precious space before it grew too full.

The end of the Fifth Canticle was called for after the excavation of the Black Crib and the founding of the Singing Tree.






- Cerise! Fancy meeting you here!
- Oh, hello. I um... I wanted to apologise. For... the other day.
- Oh it's quite alright, I understand. You were just upset.
- And very drunk.
- And very drunk, yes.

quote:

The Sixth Canticle: Scattered Seeds

The Sixth Canticle lasted for ten Mesura(249-288IL) and witnessed the greatest growth in Ombre's population in its history. Lured by the promise of wealth and power, people from every nation clamoured to be a part of the city of shadows, and the influx called for expansion. The ruins were no longer feared, what with the power of the Mascherines having been discovered, and the empty space under Sierra Vede was fully utilised.

With the nation's success came the latitude for research into the Dimenticate, and the Vegilus turned their focus to the past.

The Luca, by this time, had turned sour, and the Labores Solis was established in 268IL, followed shortly by the Dieci Sovrani, in 280IL.

The Sixth Canticle was put to an end when the Registry imposed a law restricting the number of people that could come into the Citte - it had grown too full and if anyone still wished to live in Ombre, they would have to do so in the Randagia. This effectively ended the Miscela, and the Songstresses called for the end of the Sixth Canticle.






- But what makes you so certain that the Kyrios' judgment is that infallible?
- Why should I believe otherwise? It only makes matters heavy for the heart, no?
- I suppose...
- It's best not to think of such things, my friend. Contemplations like that are bound to land you in trouble. Just... enjoy the songs until yours is sung. Life is simpler that way.
Just your friendly neighborhood assassins, never questioning their kill orders.

-Canticle (Instrumental)-



Vaneera, you may leave us. I will be in good company with the Inspettore. Come, Cicero, have a seat, please. I can hear an ache in your voice.



Were you in the middle of a composition?
I was, in fact. For the Eighth Canticle.
So soon? The Canticle hasn't even been declared over.
I know, but this is the last year of this Canticle's fifteenth Mesura. If anything is to happen in the coming months that should spell the end of the Canticle, I'd like to at least be prepared. Composing a song that chronicles sixty years' worth of events is not something that one does in an evening.
When a Canticle gets this long, you wind up using the verses "One Thing Led To Another" and "Hijinks Ensued" a lot.
But... there is something on your mind, isn't there? I can hear the ripples of unease in your words.
I-It's just... How do you do it, Mira Bas?
Well, first you have to look at all the major events that take-
I mean carrying such a responsibility. A whole society rides upon this hall, your hall. How do you handle something like that?
*sigh* When I lost my eyes, some... twenty eight years ago, do you know what I missed the most during the years after?
The faces of the dozens of handsome men that threw themselves at your feet?
Oh no, Cicero. There were only seven that did that. No, I missed seeing smiles. Of all the years that I've been a Songstress, those were the hardest.
But you pulled through them.
I drifted, more accurately. In a situation like that, can someone truly ever know what direction to head in? I thought about it, day and night, about how I could make myself feel the way I did before, how I could find that passion that I had lost along with my sight.
And you found your answer?
No. My answer found me, I'd say. It came from a small boy who had been ambushed by thugs outside this very hall and had been screaming for help.
And you rushed out, blind as you were, Mascherine on your face and you sang.
And sing I did. With all the strength in my bones.
The flames that roared that night... Ages I still remember the look on their faces.
I scooped the little boy up and brought him into this hall. On our way in, he whispered a little something in my ear. Do you remember what he said?
Thank you. And you're very pretty.
So he did, so he did. And that was the first time that I realised that you don't need to see a smile. You can just as easily hear it.
Thank you, Mira Bas. It was nice to hear that story again.
But that was not the answer that you were looking for, was it?
In all honesty, I don't even know what I'm looking for. But that's enough sullenness. I'm here for a Mariner. Kalden. I think he might have just had a song sung.
He did, in fact. Razitof Azrus. A tragedy. He was such a sweet man. He'd been visiting the Hall quite frequently over the past few months.
Razitof? Whatever for?
The Zoric culture across the sea believes that a person can sense when their time is up. They tend to try to tie up as many loose ends in the world as they can. He had me help him put a song into a Chime specifically for his brother, telling me to hand it to him in case... this happened. It's like he knew.
Hmm. And the Mariner is somewhere on the Tree?
Yes. At his Legacy's branch.
Then that's where I'll be. Thank you for the story again, Mira Bas.

quote:

Religion in Ombre

The soils of Ombre are not fertile ground for religions to take root, considering the fact that the Citte was founded by a man who had been exiled from his homeland on the basis of religious blasphemy. Though the First is no longer around to cull the worship of extraordinary deities, the citizenry has grown much too comfortable with their independence from dogmatic scripture that any proselytisers quickly learn that it is practically impossible to spread the influence of religion under the shadow of Sierra Vede.




Sir.
How's he holding up?
You should talk to him. I think he'd like that.
*sigh*







- Thank you, Corran. I understand it was an atypical request that I made, but I appreciate your time, these past few days. There is some closure to be had, speaking to the last living connection to her.
- It is nothing. My sister loved you despite your allegiance, and if she can see past the paleness of the Spire, then so can I. I can only hope that the rest of the Citte will soon learn to look past colours as well...

quote:

The Silent Ages

"The land of songs was not always filled with music. There had been a time, before the Song of the Ages had begun, when there was nothing but the silence of the void. Before the People of Songs came to the lands, creatures of quiet hearts ruled the domain, and the consequence of their silence was clear. Their veins did not run with blood, their eyes did not sparkle with emotion. They were bereft of life, because they did not sing. These times were the Silent Ages, and we cannot put into number how long they lasted, for when there are no songs, no measures, there is no time. One day is the same as another, when the lands are mute. Sunsets and moonrises pass, but their celestial courses are stale, for they have no rhythm to dance to. The days are cold and the nights are hollow, for there is no vigour in dead silence.

"But now we have entered this barren space, and in our footfalls, we have imbued the soils with breath. Our songs travel through not only the air, but the earth as well. The streams gush in tempo to our chorus, the animals trot in accordance with our rhythms. Flowers bloom and wither, trees shed their leaves to stand stark naked as and when the Song of Ages prescribes.

"We are the keepers of the Ages, the voices of time, the custodians of the Song, and never again can we let the world fall into death's silence."
- The First, when asked of the importance of song in Ombrian culture.

The period of time before the creation of the Ombrian calendar is commonly referred to as the Silent Ages. Certainly, they weren't actually completely devoid of sound, but its name is reflective of the centrality of songs to the early(and arguably the modern) Ombrians' culture.


-Razitof's Song-



Take your heart
Take my hand
I will lead you through storm and fire
The blood may thin
The bough may break
But our cradle will e'er be shared
The wound will heal
The songs will ring
And soon again will your spirit sing
Take my heart
Take your hand
I await you in promised land

-Canticle (Instrumental)-

He composed this himself. He came by and asked Mira Bas to help him put it into this Chime... Did he know?
I'm sure he knew that what he was working on was big-
Did he know that he was going to die?
Your brother was no fool.
Then why? Why chase a storm in rough seas?
Because he felt that he had to.
He never told anyone this, but he harboured a religion. Asharimal. An Illisian religion. He liked to believe that there was an afterlife. A promised land that we'd go to after we passed.
I heard it in the last verse of the song.
I want so badly to believe that he's right.



A ray of light in a sea of shadows.



A source of hope in a mire of despair.





If my brother felt that he needed to do this, to find these artefacts... Then we must.
And so we will.

-A New Home-



Well he'll have to keep waiting, won't he? We don't have any leads.
What about the Golden Canvas?
The Portieri have searched it already. Nothing.
And my brother's work? Is there anything we can follow up on?
Nothing that hasn't already been checked out. We still don't know why he was creating fey, but unfortunately... I don't know if we'll ever find out now.
It's true. Razitof's death has stanched the flow of the investigation. All the answers in his mind... now lost.
But that can't be it! There has to be more to this!
You're passionate.
The Citte is evolving right before our eyes - we cannot stop now!
Just a day ago you had a gaze that could turn your victims to stone.
Well, some lessons can be learnt in a day.
It's late. We should get some rest.
What about our next step?
We're not going to find one by depriving ourselves of sleep.
The Inspettore is right. We'll think better with a rested mind.
And a rested heart.
I understand.
We'll convene tomorrow morning. Hopefully we'll have more ideas, then.

quote:

Kalden Azrus

First, his family abandons him. Then he loses his lover. And now he's lost his brother and has to grapple with the burden of being different, alone.

Yet, he carries on.

...

How?




I don't get it.
... What?
Razitof was in search of the artefacts. Artefacts that turned the Dimenticate into Mascherines.
So?
Fey. How do they fit into all this? Why was Razitof creating them? What do they have to do with the artefacts?
Amadea-
We're missing something, Cicero, and if I could just-
Amadea. It's been a long day.
... We're so close to... something, I can feel it. Teetering on the precipice of change...
Rather dramatic.
It's just like five years ago... when I thought Cyrus would... You're right... It's been a long day. I'll finish up here soon and go to bed.
Amadea.
I promise. Good night, Cicero.



... Thank you.
Good night, Mariner.



She told me about her father. Said she knew how it felt... to lose someone close.
Too common an experience in the Citte.
She might be a little rigid... but she isn't half as bad as I'd first thought. Neither is Vasco, actually. People have always said us Ombrians hide behind masks and facades... But perhaps not all masks are worn to hide dark secrets.
Go to bed, Kalden. It's late.
Did I say something?
Good night.



... He has been rather quiet. Oh, Cicero-
Yes?
Cicero!
Is this something I should be hearing?
... Vasco was telling me about what happened at the Golden Canvas. I had been wondering what all the ruckus was about.
You and your family got out safely though?
Barely. Livia and Damien have gone to bed. They're not used to such... excitement. But enough about our escape. I heard you weren't so lucky.
... No, I wasn't.
What happened in there, Cicero?
... Nothing, Ven. I'm just... tired.
Then you should be heading to bed, no?
No more than any of you.
You're right. Just one more drink, then, and I'll be off.