Chapter 2

Even from a far distance, Martin could still see Valoran's market buzzing with people; women haggling for lower prices; children running up and down; men hung around each other.

Right beside, separated by a river crawling sluggishly into the city and connected only by a bridge, stood buildings that stacked upon each others varying in storey's, three at most. In the middle of the entire city, one building towered over the rest by ten or more storey's if Martin had to guess. Soldiers guarded every entrance of the wall that enclosed the area.

The emblem of a sword honorably surrounded by a pentagon carved the building's facade. Tents and barracks were set up in neat rows below for soldiers to carry out their routine training, marching and skill honing under the commander's supervision.

Martin's attention drifted to another corner, a gathering of dilapidated, crumbling buildings constructed at a corner below the Pentagon wall surrounding the city's rim. People named it Exile, home for the forgotten. The denizens living there were scrawny and wore either ragged clothes or nothing at all, literally. The sight was unbearable.

"Martin."

He snapped out of his thoughts and met Emily's stare.

"How did you find me?" he asked.

She strode to his right and settled down.

"Everytime when you're free, you'd come here either to sleep or stare at the city." She read him like an open book.

A breeze brushed passed his face and he smelled the familiar perfume of rose. There was a tingling sensation in his heart, nostalgic perhaps, but at the same time there was a pain he couldn't understand.

If Emily hadn't mentioned his habit, he would've never noticed it. He felt ... attached to this place, to the humongous tree behind, to this hill, to Valoran.

"You're right, and I probably will continue." For a quick second, he thought there was a subtle smile on her face but she was, as usual, expressionless.

"While we were out on our scouting mission," she said, immediately cutting to the point. "Other than ours, eight soldiers were killed in the same way - A deep, clean cut to the collar bone. Their hearts were removed too, in a clean swipe."

"Hearts?" Martin muttered and his face darkened.

"The High Council suspect it was done by a professional assassin."

Martin shook his head in disbelief. "Professional assassin indeed but perhaps of one that is not mortal." He dug into his pocket and fished out a memo book. After flipping a few pages and reading for awhile, he couldn't help but smile. "Seems like my next duty is two weeks later."

"Lester may have some clues," Emily said.

Martin eyebrow twitched at the thought of having to see him again. It almost made his stomach turned.

"You don't like him." She said. It was a statement rather than a question.

He nodded. Even though they were childhood friends, they were of complete opposite attitude which pitted them against each other and they've been rivals ever since, until recently they've had no contacts at all for nearly half a year.

"But if he holds clues, I'll put aside my opinion." Getting on his feet, he padded the dirt off his trouser and set the first step forward before glancing over his shoulder back at Emily. "Let's go."

 

The sooth aroma of papers and books wafted in the air. The temperature was cooling, perfect for one to concentrate on their studies. The bookshelves were aligned in neat rows, each with equal distance from one another. Ray of golden light poured through the window on the ceiling in the middle of the library. Small white particles, probably dust, drifted around like flakes of snow under the illumination of the light and Martin admitted it was beautiful.

Emily strode to one of the tables in the center and sat beside a man with night blue hair. Martin frowned when he recognized the long fringe that covered one of the man's eyes.

Lester, he thought.

He had his usual long black coat, black pants, brown boots and gloves on. But above everything, it was the huge purple wizard hat he wore that stood out. No one in this era wore it anymore, except him.

"Hey, Martin," he called when he noticed him.

Martin nodded and settled beside Emily.

"Still haven't found your attribute?"

As always, the first thing Lester did when they met were insulting him but he didn't take it to heart. Instead, he swallowed it down and shook his head. "Do you have any clues for the recent cases?"

Lester raised a questioning eyebrow and closed the book on his table. "What do you mean?"

"'Done by a professional assassin', surely that could be possible if the heart wasn't ripped off." Martin lowered his voice into a whisper. He leaned forward to make sure only Lester and Emily could hear. "Isn't the heart the source of 'attribute'?"

Lester's expression fell grim. His eyes bounced to Emily and back to Martin, both looking firmly at him, and he interlaced his fingers, contemplating for a second.

"I have the same doubts," He paused for a moment, then surveyed his surrounding before pulling closer to ensure no one could overhear. "Care for a walk to the Tavern tonight."

Martin gasped at the mention of the name. He understood what Lester meant by the Tavern.

Located in the Exile, criminals of many categories tended to hang in there and he didn't know how but information of all kinds, even the most secretive, always had a way of appearing there. Nevertheless, he decided to give it a shot.

"Time?"

Lester rested back on his chair, a satisfied smirk on his lips. "Eleven, make sure you're dressed in black."