Chapter 401 - Dostein

The province of Dostein was located in the northwest of Scaica. Known for being where most people decide to go retire, the province was more residential with few entertainment facilities. The decision was made to have it always be a place of refuge, an asylum for young and old alike, a soothing place to rest and grow. Similar to a slope, the province's houses and entourage changed the lower one went. Lower meant the beaches, and beaches were leisure for the rich. The Upper and lower class didn't mingle so frequently and the disparities weren't obvious. None went out of their way to prove the other inferior. Tis was where the mindset of acceptance came into play, the educated populous could but smile for they were the same; Alphian.

Three hours after the crack of dawn, the chopper arrived at a local airfield with helipads. Barricaded with high-walls, the resemblance was more military compared to the airfield in Marrowy. They landed as slow and gently as possible; the touchdown felt similar to a friendly slap on the back.

"Who are they?" asked Dei peering out. Three figures stood with a lady in the middle – the gust generated from the rotors had their clothes dance. 

"The welcoming party," he smiled with the door sliding open, "-come on, let's go." On the ground first, he extended a hand to aid the injured Dei to get off. She kindly took the offer and thus they walked with her more or less sticking to his back.

"Leader of Phantom," said the lady with a smile. 

"Lady Lerado," he nodded, "-tis a pleasure to see thee again," staring a once over, "-you've changed."

"You think so?" her face remained cold with only the voice alternating. 

"Yes, very much so," for once, her hair was dyed grey, the skin-complexion changed to tanned. Her visage went under the knife, the contours were sharp, the lips big, the nose piercing and eyes daunting. A furred wolf-pelt robe covered her body. These kinds of robes were most common for people living in cold places as well as hunters. As for her, the attire was fitted to be more appropriate for formal occasions, "-may I ask to why?" 

"The slaying of my family is a nightmare I live with, it's a part of me, I can't afford to forget the pain. I vowed to make those who hurt us pay, and I will do what it takes. Changing my appearance is nothing compared to the bigger picture," her determined eyes fixed upon he who listened.

"Enough about me," sensing the would-be silence, "-why did you call?" asked she.

"I don't suppose you're familiar with Sugar?"

"I know of Sugar, isn't that what one puts in tea or pastries, the white gold?"

"No, no," he explained calmly, "-Sugar's the name of an idol."

"I'm afraid not," the head shook in confusion, "-why, did he do something?"

"One could say so, tis the reason for my visit to Dostein." 

"A manhunt," an expression of deep thought broke away the frigid expression, "-I can call upon my men?"

"I thank you for the sentiment," he paused, '-she can't afford to send people on random manhunts. The Lerado are stretched thin as is.' The place felt desolate, "-tis a personal quest, you need not intervene."

"Is that so," she exhaled relief with the relaxing of her chest and breath, "-please, let us help with any other request."

"Actually," the eyes befell a car, "-I'll need transport for the trip."

"Here," not another word need be said, she handed over a keychain attached to a small panda, "-it's not as extravagant as yours but she should do the job."

"She's perfect," said he now examining the car. Red with decals, an old model off by two years, a convertible speed devil.

"Good luck on the search," they exchanged goodbyes, she disappeared into the building while he took to the street. The sound of the helicopter soon broke the peaceful atmosphere as it returned. Another airfield owned by the Dark-guild. Dubbed 025, it was once used for importing illegal items into Alphia. The operation was dropped due to Public Safety getting involved. The operation moved to the South, the industrial districts with ports and open air-space. As for 025, it remained more or less an airfield for those of the DG. 

"Any idea where we should start?" asked Staxius strolling down the large empty roads. The scenery was large fields with crops growing nicely. Warm colors as the sun shone; hills broke the ideal plots of land with their darker and somber coloring. To the left, one could see piles of rocks, a weird pyramid shape, boulders used for the construction of an abandoned fortress. 

"Let's get to Lemia, tis the village we stayed at until a few weeks ago."

"Where is it?"

"To the upper plateau. Rumor has it that Dostein is for the rich. It couldn't be farther from the truth. If you look far enough, some places are very affordable for the average joe," her oily hair was set free with the car now open-roofed, it slapped against the backseat with reckless abandon.

"The upper plateau it is," said he with a smile.

Meanwhile, far, far away from where they drove; inside Scaica, the central park had yellow tapes stopping people for trespassing. In the morning, a jogger spotted what seemed to be a lady drowning. After he jumped in to save the figure; he couldn't believe his eyes; Aceline was dead. A fresh detective out of the Academy was assigned to the case. 

"You're here," said a man dressed in brown pants and a white shirt.

"Yes, sorry I'm late," said the young investigator, "-care to show me around the place?"

"Sure," said the veteran throwing away the cigarette, "-listen, our job as investigators is to find the truth. Coming out the academy is exciting, to work on trying to find culprits," he leaped over the tape, "-it's not the same. The excitement is soon replaced by the cruel truth of how f.u.c.k.i.e.d our society is."

"O-ok?" he followed.

"There's a single rule I want you to follow; do not f.u.c.k or tangle with the underworld. Let me tell you, it exists, and you don't want to get in their way. I don't remember how many recruits were killed just for having a lead on them. We're in Alphia, so activity isn't that high; practice caution," they approached the scene. 

"Investigators, you're here," said a man dressed in uniform, "-we've got the witness reports, it should be on the database. The body has been sent to the morgue."

"What about the news, Aceline died, it's going to cause a commotion."

"It was decided to have it revealed to the public, the beloved superstar died after her concert," returned the officer.

"Any hypothesis on how she died?"

"No, sir, the coroner will have the autopsy ready by the evening." 

"Thank you, we'll wander around."

"As you wish," saluted the man.

"Sir, what was that about?" 

"Chad, listen," inhaled the veteran, "-investigations aren't as black and white as you think. More often than not, people are killed and snuffed; those held accountable are never persecuted. Their links tie in deep, from the p.r.o.s.t.i.t.u.t.es on the street to the politicians, the underworld is powerful."

"What about justice?"

"Screw it," said he, "-f.u.c.k justice, I do this job to live, and you should too. The more complacent you are, the farther you'll go, it's the honest world kid. Either comply or get put down, I'm not opposed to having a new partner," he crouched to examine where the body was pulled out off. 

'F.u.c.k justice he says,' faint explosions came out his finger, "-No, I refuse to give in," an explosion had the veteran jumped back, "-PEOPLE NEED TO TRUST US!" 

"Chill out," said he rather annoyed, "-with that ability, maybe the AHA would have been a better fit. You want to save people, go become a hero, we're here to take the bodies, do the paperwork and get paid, what don't you understand about that?" 

"What I don't understand is why…" another explosion rattled the scene, "-why have you given up?"

"Oh, shut up," *smack,* he hit with the hilt of his revolver. 

"Why would you do that for?" cried Chad a yelp.

"Don't be an idiot – we still have to figure out what happened here," shaking the head, the current of the river increased. 

"It's over that way," he pointed, "-that's where she was shot."

"What do you mean, shot?"

"I caught a look of the body earlier, she died from a bullet; I'm certain. It's sloppy for an assassination, maybe a robbery or an angered fan, who knows," they soon arrived in a tree heavy area, "-yeah, it's here," said he staring at a tree trunk. "She was shot point-blank using a revolver."

"On w-what basis?" asked Chad dazed from the assault earlier.

"Her frame, the direction where it landed, it's pretty self-explanatory. Let's call it a day, we have the bullet, should be simple to trace back the gun and then the owner. It's a shame there's no surveillance and I doubt people to know anything of the shooting. Let's go, rookie, the world of paperwork waits," he lit another cigarette.

"Y-yes, s-sir," he followed. 'Lead investigator Larson of the 8th Division; a man of enigmatic character and excellent deduction skill. Rumors says he can read the mind. Little is known from his past. The way he speaks is annoying, I so want to punch him in the face,' images of what occurred came forth, '-the truth is he came up with a possible hypothesis so quick. What did he mean by the underworld, is this relating to Cimier?' 

Later that day, the news of Aceline's death went around the capital. No cause was disclosed. The people sunk into disbelief; the fans grieved but not as much as the one she was close with. 

"Majesty, MAJESTY," a maid ran across the hall outwards to a balcony.

"Slow down, there's no need to rush," returned the Queen watering her plants.

"IT'S OF UTMOST IMPORTANCE," she screamed, "-THE PRIDE OF HIDROS DIED!"

"W-what?" her body slumped to subconsciously dropped the watering can and hit a flowerpot which fell and broke. "-A-Aceline's d-dead?" nausea came from within, "-h-how?" her throat tightened.

"Gallienne, Gallienne," Piers came running, "-oh no…" he paused, "-you've learned of the news…" 

"I-is s-she really d-dead?" her eyes watered.

"I-I'm afraid so…" he jumped to embrace her tightly.

"M-my b-best friend d-died?" the warm memories resurfaced, "-I d-don't w-want to b-believe i-it," inhaling deep, "-get me the phone right now, and DON'T report this to the populous."

"W-what are you doing?" inquired the Prince scared by her demeanor.

"I need answers," snatching the device out of the maid's hand, *Calling, Staxius.*

"Greetings Majesty," came a nonchalant voice.

"Listen, Staxius, forgive the lack of manners; Aceline's dead, do you know anything about it?"

"Are you sure she's dead, I've heard nothing of it?"

"Yes, she's dead; I got news from Alphia a few minutes ago, where even are you?"

"Headed to find a friend."

"Well, King of Arda, this is a request from thy partner – return at once and get a hold of her body. I don't care what you use, we'll go to war if needed; the Pride of Hidros must be brought to life."

"The revival ritual, are you sure?" he asked with interest.

"The time limit is three days; I'll have the preparation started on my end – don't fail me now, King of Arda," the call ended.

"W-what's the matter?" asked Dei.

"Aceline's dead," quick to pull the handbrakes, "-Dei, I need you to go on ahead and search for Sugar. Here's 5,000 Exa, call me when he's found, ok?"

"S-sure," her cluelessness spoke volume as the car sped back from whence it came. 

'God damn it; how could she have died. I thought Elliot took care of the assassins.'

Touching the earrings, "Éclair."

"What are the orders?"

"Have Cake send over the fastest jet we have and prepare it to carry a body."

"Roger."

'Public Safety will be involved, if she goes under the knife, I might not be able to resuscitate her.' *Calling Sultria VI.*

"Aceline's dead. Do what is need to not have her body under the knife. I don't care what method is employed. Sultria, you best not fail me."