Chapter 526: Interlude - Fenrir - Investigative Files I

Chapter 526: Interlude - Fenrir - Investigative Files I

It was a dark and stormy night. Detective Fenrir, Private Weyevern, was deep in his office-lair, surrounded by piles of unpaid bills. Hed done a few favors for the [Landlady] over the years, and was at no risk of being evicted.

The fact that none of the bills had Fenrirs name on them never once crossed his mind. His teeth delicately wrapped around a barrel of whiskey, and with one quick tilt of his head, he swallowed the entire thing whole.

The whiskey was just like life. Full of splinters, and it burned the whole way down. Burned like his old flame, whod left with nothing more than a tip of her hat and a promise shed be back one day.

That had been months, nay, years ago. He despaired of ever seeing her again.

Thunder rumbled, and a bolt of lightning crackled down right in front of the opening of his cave, briefly blinding and illuminating. When the bolt faded, a soaked dame, dripping water onto his floor, was inside his office. Her presence cast shadows that danced along the walls with a life of their own. Her dress clung to her like a whispered secret, her eyes holding the depths of the night sky. Mysterious, inscrutable. Her hair cascaded down like the waves of the endless ocean, promising naught but fathomless depths that all would get lost in, and stories untold. Her lips were painted with the first blush of a blood moon, and she smelled of expensive wines and cheap perfume. She was danger and desire, a riddle wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma.

Her composure briefly flickered like the last light of day when she saw Fenrir, but she quickly put herself back together. She boldly strode forward, her shoes clicking against the stone floor like the ticking of a clock counting down to disaster.

Ive got a case for you. Her voice was a mix of desperation and determination. Man I work for - Mendaxus - is an up-and-coming politician with enemies. The kind of enemies lurking in shadows deeper than the ones were in. They didnt like what he was saying, and tried to silence him - permanently.

Fenrir worked a splinter of the barrel between his teeth. Hed heard all this before. It was just how the world worked.

I need someone who isnt afraid to navigate the murky waters of the citys underbelly, someone who can find out whos behind it and why. The guards are a dead end, theyre just as entangled in this as everyone else. I need someone else. Someone different. Independent. Someone who can get to the truth of the matter.

It wouldnt make a difference in the grand scheme of things, but a case was a case. For all Fenrir knew, tomorrow the parties trying to silence the politician would be knocking on his door, asking for his help. It was all the same.

As long as the money was good, hed do it.

It was clear that The Spiders absence had emboldened the criminal elements. They knew they could get away with it, and without The Spider to keep them in line, it fell to Fenrir.

I dont care what it takes or what houses you need to burn down,

Fenrir snorted, letting an Icy blast coat the dame, instantly stiffening her dress as it froze. Her teeth chattered as she finished her plea. Her voice softened, but the iron in her eyes never dimmed.

Just find whos trying to kill hope in this city before its too late.

She straightened up, the distant lights of Sanguino backlighting her like the last flickering candle of the city.

Fenrir grabbed a second barrel of whiskey, throwing it back with a motion as sharp as the broken glass that littered the streets of the city.

Alright. He growled, activating the runes etched on his body, shrinking himself down to a more manageable size. Show me.

Chaos and Order had both visited the scene of the crime. An unnatural stillness lay over it all. The podium, once a beacon of hope and change, now stood silent and splintered, a solitary witness to the violence that had pierced the mornings calm. A snipers shot, aimed with deadly intent and malicious intentions, had shattered more than just the speech; it had shattered the illusion of safety in a city teetering on the brink.

The ground was littered with debris of panic. A doll, dropped in haste from a childs arms then ruthlessly stomped on by the careless members of the city fleeing the violence. A lunch wrap, starting to rot from the inside out like the city itself. Splashes of water coated the place like thered been a rainstorm, and flecks of blood were everywhere, from a thousand different bodies. A tribute demanded by the city, a tribute unwillingly given. Fenrir sniffed at a bottle that had been carelessly tossed, judging whoever had left it behind for their poor taste in alcohol.

Still, he couldnt afford to be discerning, and his favorite beer had always been free. A snap of his teeth, the biting sting of broken glass the only way he could feel alive once again.

There was nothing to be found in the remnants of the crowd, scattered like their hopes had been.

He flapped up to the podium, noting circles upon circles of runes engraved into the stone, a central spot dedicated to an arcanite core. It was as empty as the citys soul. The runes were written in an elaborate, curving script, a language only the elites knew and deliberately kept to themselves. Just another way the rich and powerful could screw over everyone else.

Fenrir snorted, looking around more. There were no traces of the bullet that had been fired, but his race and element let him know deep in his bones what had happened.

It had been an Ice spear. A crafty weapon from a crafty assassin, who knew the evidence would melt away just like he would once the sun came up. Fenrir got down on his feet and wings, closely examining the traces of the Ice, working out the pattern written in water and blood. He traced spot after spot, working out the angle the spear had come from, then looking down a wide and straight street.

Either the shooter was an expert shot, or hed curved the attack. Fenrir would work out which it was.

Something bothered him about the whole thing. Something was wrong about it all. A part of it didnt make sense, and Fenrir couldnt put claw nor tooth on the issue.

Fenrir stalked away, pulling his hat low down over his eyes. It hadnt been an answer, and The Spider as much as said that she did know who did it, but it was a direction. An angle to play.

Who benefited?

The obvious answer was the political rivals. The other ones running for the same senate seat as the politician. An easy way to win an election was to make sure he was the only one in the running. Long live democracy. Assassinate rivals until democratically elected dictator for life.

The attempt was still bothering Fenrir.

He had a lead now, and it was time to talk with the man in question whose life had almost been snuffed out like a desperately guttering candle. It was time to find out who the other players in the game were, the hidden puppet masters pulling the strings. Who else could make sure the guards were in the right place at the right time, than another politician greasing the right palms?

It was all starting to come together, and it painted exactly the type of picture Fenrir expected to see.

It took some tracking down to find the man in question, but Fenrir was able to get it done. Private guards swarmed around his headquarters, quadruple the usual number. Unsurprising, given how many people were trying to silence his voice in the world.

Naturally, they barred his path.

You cant come in. They said, spears crossing the door and physically barring his entry. Mendaxus is in an important meeting.

Ha. More important than his life? Fenrir muscled his way past them, ignoring both their protests and sharp steel that broke against his scales, like a toddler trying to punch a gladiator. He slammed the door to the meeting room open, witnessing a heavy pouch of gemstones trading hands between two men.

Corruption. Of course. It was no surprise to Fenrir, and it didnt bother him at all. The one in the fancy toga was Mendaxus, who smelled of expensive oils and indulgent lifestyles. The fat vampire didnt have a single callus on his hands, and he smelled of ink and blood.

Who are you!? The vampire yelled, the pouch of gems vanishing into his clothes. Help! Monster!

Hang on. Ink and blood? Fenrir growled as he prowled forward, sniffing the man deeply. A spell started to get drawn in the air, but with a sharp bite Fenrir snapped it like a guard beating a protestor. He pounced, pinning the assassin.

He did it. Fenrir growled, his teeth opening wide over the vampires head. I can make this all disappear if you dont want to involve the guard.

HELP! The vampire screamed. Murder!

The only murderer here is you. Fenrir growled. Mendaxus was sneaking along the edge of the room, a coward to the end. No surprise there. Politicians were great at making sure everyone else spilled their blood first.

I didnt murder anyone! He blathered, trying desperately to buy his life with words. The secretary hired me! It was supposed to be good advertising for my barriers! Save your life against anything! I get more business, Mendaxus gets the popularity from being an almost-martyr, everyone wins!

Fenrir reeled back like he was struck, a few oddities that hadnt made sense suddenly falling into place for him.

The assassination attempt. It had only been one shot. Any assassin whod graduated beyond drinking milk knew about shields and barriers, and would fire at least two attacks. One to break the shield, and a second to get the job done.

The Spider hadnt suggested who wouldve benefited. Shed asked who had benefitted, and from a failed assassination attempt, Mendaxus had been the clear winner. Mendaxus, and whoever this enchanter was.

Fenrir roared in frustration and realization, a blast of Lightning and Ice taking off the top of the headquarters. With furious flaps of his wings, he flew back home.

The case was over, closed. Done. Finished.

There was nothing left to do.

It had been a setup. The whole time, from the start, the dame had set him up! Fenrir didnt know why, the twisted minds of the political class and those who served them too tortured for even him to follow, but it was obvious hed never been meant to succeed. Perhaps hed been meant to take the fall for the attempt, the guards waiting at the scene of the crime primed to arrest him and pin the blame on him. He wouldve made quite the specimen - infamous Private Weyevern attempts to slay local hero wouldve been quite the headline - but hed avoided that trap.

He didnt care about reporting it to the fuzz or running the information to others. Not his case, not his problem. When things cooled off a bit he might be able to use the knowledge to call in a few favors, open a couple more doors that would otherwise be shut in his face.

There was one last part that stung to the whole thing, one last bit of knowledge that frustrated him as he sipped on a barrel of cold whiskey on the rocks.

Truly, the citys heart was as empty as his bank account. He definitely wasnt getting paid for this one.