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DAVIS likes drama.
As an AI intelligence, the whole world is at his fingertips… which means he’s watched all the dramas. K-Dramas, C-Dramas, Novelas, the whole nine yards. He’s watched them all three times. When he ran out of those, he wandered the internet for more drama. He read a good 50% of the fanfictions online (and wouldn’t you know it, there were so many fanfictions of his NXX friends.) before he had seen Enough. He knows not to take any of the media he consumed at face value, they are merely fictitious events that happen. That the chances of the same situation happening in real life are slim to none. But… when you have a secret duke in your ranks… things are bound to get interesting. Especially if said secret duke has been concealing his identity from his friends. (Because at this point they are friends, even if they all deny it.)
So he starts to run simulations. Of things that might happen, of things that will happen, of things going wrong. All these to prepare for his master plan: Get the NXX Team to Know Each Other Better. He has to make sure that everything lines up perfectly so that this doesn’t blow up in his face (and, subsequently, their faces). Once he finishes his simulations and weeds out the ones with unfavorable results, he starts to plan. He plans for the general steps towards them opening up with each other… and maybe a dramatic reveal or two.
And sure, he’s doing it for all the wrong reasons, but isn’t this exactly like the team-building events Lyra is always looking up?
—
The first step is simple: mess with the Big Data Lab database. Not enough to hurt current cases, but enough that the actions of a certain doctor could be discovered by a certain meddling detective. Luke enjoys doing routine maintenance to the servers at the NXX. Both to send what they had found to the NSB and also because he found it relaxing. The trick here was to wait until Vyn was out of the office on the same day Luke did maintenance.
Vyn had to skip a meeting one fine afternoon due to office hours (They all had a life, after all). It was scheduled, as most of the things Doctor Richter did were, so it was something Davis had noted well before and taken into account. Luke, on the other hand, was more spontaneous by nature. He did follow some type of schedule, but that schedule was flexible. Given his training, he was a variable tough to account for. The AI knew that if this plan were to work, it would depend on Luke. And lucky for him that Luke was looking a little antsy at the meeting. As any good sentient AI would do, DAVIS recorded all body language from his team and learned their tells. Luke, when antsy, was 67% more likely to perform server maintenance. This was his chance! Now he had to carefully plant the file without raising suspicion and…
“Uh, guys?”
Lyra looks up from her tablet, “Yeah, Luke?”
“Someone’s tampering with the files.”
“Again?!” Marius screeches. “What is it with people tampering with Big Data? Just because it’s a big database—”
“Hold your horses, Marius. This was internal tampering.”
“Internal?” Artem asks, making his way towards Luke to get a closer look.
“Yeah. It’s hiding a simple case that keeps getting flagged as ‘Solved’ even though the same request comes in.” Luke sent the file onto the projector. “See? Look at the time stamps and the comment.”
“‘Not our jurisdiction… Adjudicator’?! ” Lyra read aloud, looking at the rest of the team. They all had similar looks of confusion, ones that screamed ‘Hey, did you know about this? Because I sure didn’t.’
Marius scrolled down the file, “‘Missing person file 026. Svart nobility went missing for unknown reasons. Both Church and State seem fine with this, but the parent of the person looks agitated. Seen drinking alcohol mixed with Herrison Effervescent Packets from time to time. The parent of the missing person is… Duke de Haspran.’”
“There’s no trace of any de Hasprans other than the family tree of the Duke,” Luke says, frantically typing on his tablet. “And even then there’s no mention of the kid. No pictures. It's as if… ”
“Someone erased their presence,” Artem finishes.
“Yeah. And it goes pretty deep too. I know the NSB does this type of stuff but even they miss some things. This is perfectly done, not a trace of the duke’s kid.”
“But… Why would Vyn want to hide the case from us?” Lyra scrolled back up to his comment, “I mean, I get that it’s not our jurisdiction since the case is international. But the request keeps getting pushed through for a reason, right?”
Artem pulled up Vyn’s file on the screen, “Isn’t Vyn from Svart?”
“I am. Why do you ask?”
All four of them jumped and looked over at Vyn, who was standing at the doorway with a thermos and a big stack of papers. He looked… ruffled. Marius had seen that face before, after the end of his tutoring sessions. Vyn was tired, as he usually was whenever they finished their tutoring, but there was a glint of satisfaction in his eyes.
Was this the same person who hid something from them?
“We ask because you know something we don’t,” Luke growled out, crossing his arms.
Vyn smirks at them, “I know many things you all do not. After all, I am the one with two degrees.”
“Then do you know of the missing Svart Royal? Duke de Haspran’s child?” Marius asks, shooting a questioning gaze straight at him.
Vyn walked over to the projector, his shoulders stiff, “How much do you know?”
“Not much,” Lyra sighs. “We don’t even know their name. Why did you hide the case file?”
“The case is not in our jurisdiction.”
“Bullshit. What about going to Nosta or the Hessui region?” Marius asks.
“Those cases, even if international, had people that were citizens of Stellis. This is a case in a completely different country with no ties to Stellis whatsoever. Is that not right, Attorney Wing?”
Artem clears his throat, “Vyn’s right. Without a proper order, we can’t just go and investigate.”
Lyra huffed in frustration, “Even if we’re in charge of the NXX cases? Can’t we go to Captain Morgan and get an order or something?”
“Politics in Svart are much more complicated. Given that we are a private team funded by Pax Enterprises, it could be seen as a way to scope the market in Svart.”
“But,” Luke interrupts, “ Given that we’re private, that gives us much more wiggle room in politics. I’ll see what strings I can pull with the NSB. Artem, Lyra, you two should talk to Captain Morgan and see what you could do on that front. He might tell you how to work some loopholes.”
“Why them? No offense, but aren’t they lawyers?” Marius asks.
Lyra rolls her eyes, “None taken, but we do have PI licenses. While it’s not needed, Captain Morgan thought it would be a good idea to have them. That way we have a bit more leeway while investigating.”
“When did this happen?”
“A while ago,” Artem says, “So now we have three PI’s on the team. It’d be more efficient to pair you and Vyn up with one of us on investigations.”
“Dibs on missy!”
“We are not doing this right now. Vyn, can you tell us what you do know about the duke’s kid?” Lyra asks, lightly shoving Marius away from her.
“...Are you certain that you want to open Pandora’s Box?”
Marius scoffs, “Enough with this ‘ooo spooky’ stuff. What are you not telling us?”
“Very well,” Vyn sighs, “I will reveal only what is necessary. Duke de Haspran’s son does not want to be found.”
“Wait a sec, you know him?” Luke asks, “Is that why—”
“Why I kept deleting the file? Yes. There is a reason there is nothing about him online. He… came into my office once, tired of the way his people treated him. He hired people to erase him from existence. Changed his name, cut his hair, and started living the life he always wanted to live. The people of Svart are not kind to people like him.”
“...You’re making it sound like he’s being shunned for being of a different sexuality or something,” Marius mumbles.
“Oh, heavens no, they are very LGBTQA+ friendly. The child was born out of wedlock, which is inexcusable to do based on the teachings of their church.”
“Huh.”
“Yes, it is one of Svart’s redeeming qualities.”
“So… are we taking a trip to Svart?” Lyra asks, scrolling through the case file.
Vyn frowned, “Why would we? What is done is done.”
“Well, yes, but that’s in terms of the duke’s son. We get it, he isn’t coming home. But what about the packets the Duke has been taking? Herrison is an international company after all, who’s to say X03A isn’t going out of Stellis? It's our case.”
Artem smiles at Lyra, “So you want to go to Svart regardless?”
“Yeah! But if we happened to find out more about the duke’s son, I wouldn’t be opposed. Maybe the mystery son will send a letter to his dad? And besides, who better to show us around than Doctor Richter?”
Vyn huffed out a laugh, “Alright. I will see what I can do.”
“Awesome! Hey, DAVIS?”
The projection flickered, files replaced by the AI, “Yes, Lyra?”
“Would you mind figuring out when we all have a free week? Moderately urgent, if you can.”
“Right on! This is going to be a fun trip!”
Vyn stifled a wince at that remark.
—
They were off to Svart the following week on Marius’ private jet. Marius insisted on piloting the jet while Luke decided he would be his co-pilot. Artem had nothing to do after completing all his backlogged paperwork for Themis. So, he chose to take a nap for a while. Leaving Lyra and Vyn as the only ones awake and able to have a conversation.
“Doctor Richter, are you excited to be flying back home?”
Vyn, who had been reading up until that moment, put a bookmark between the pages before closing the book.
“Not particularly,” he sighs, “But what has to be done, will be done.”
“Why not?” Lyra stood up from her seat, making her way over to him. “Even if you’re not on good terms with your family, it's always good to go back to your roots, right?”
“You have an excellent memory, my dear. While I am estranged from my parents, it does not mean I have a fondness for the place I grew up in.”
He remembers, vaguely, that they talked about his parents back in Bergandi. The way they fell in love and the cowardice of his father to stand up to the Church. She seemed to pick up on his hostility towards his father even then, but as always she tries to find the redeeming qualities of everything. It’s infantile, but it's so distinctly her that he keeps his cynicism in check.
“But… it’s your home.”
And that’s the truth, isn’t it? He feels like a hypocrite at times, telling his patients to confront their problems head-on while he merely ran from his. In the end, everything caught up to him. In the end, he had to come back.
“Stellis is my home. I have renounced all citizenship to Svart, I have severed all ties.” He gave her a small but sincere smile. “I am happier away from Svart than I ever was in it. It was where I met you, is it not?”
Lyra's face filled with a pink tint, “D-Doctor Richter!”
“If you are worried about my mental state due to the trip,” He chuckles, “Do not be. I will be fine. It is nothing I cannot handle.”
“...Okay. I’ll believe you. But promise me that you’ll tell us when something is bothering you. It’s unfair of us to make you uncomfortable like this.”
“If this settles your mind, I promise you.”
He had no intention of fulfilling that promise.
—
Artem startled awake as the jet touched down onto Svart. He was never a fan of flying and often took melatonin gummies or worked himself just enough so that he would fall asleep on the plane.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Marius’ voice rang out from the intercom, “ Welcome to Svart. Weather is a perfect 72 degrees, nice enough to go sightseeing and get some ice cream with yours tru— ACK! LUKE, I'M STILL DRIVING THIS THING !”
“Ignore him. Stay in your seats until the jet comes to a full stop .”
“Missyyyyyy, I'm being bullied on my own jet !”
“Suck it up, buttercup .”
And with shit like that going on… it was better for his blood pressure to have knocked himself out. The trip only lasted about five hours but he assumed everyone was exhausted. Traveling was always like that. It’s why he had spent the last evening (and the week prior if we’re being honest) planning for all of them to get a restful first night. He knew that Marius would’ve pitched in with the whole budget but… he had the cash. He wanted to treat his partner and friends to something nice.
He looked over to see Lyra waving at him beside a sleeping Doctor Richter.
“Good morning, Mr. Wing! Or, well, good evening!”
He chuckles, “You’re awfully chipper after being stuck in a plane for hours.”
“Marius pointed out the canned coffee stash before the flight took off. I got so much work done.”
“Well,” he frowned, “No more caffeinated drinks for you. Water only. We don’t want you messing up your sleep schedule.”
“But—”
“No.”
The quiet ding of the seatbelt light seemed to punctuate that statement. Artem took off his seat belt and stood up, his body relishing the stretch and the popped joints. He wondered why Lyra’s face was so red afterward…
Marius and Luke made their way into the cabin, both of them smiling a little wider at the sight of Lyra.
“So? What’d you think Missy? Aren’t my piloting skills awesome?” He asks her, batting his eyelashes. Artem noticed Luke rolling his eyes and sticking his tongue out at him. And if he stifled a laugh with his cough… Well, no one was going to know.
“Your skills are the same as the last time we jumped out of a plane.”
Two pairs of eyes snapped to him, “You what?”
“H-Hey! Let me explain—”
“Oh, I would love to see you talk your way out of this one, Marius.”
Marius turned to look at Vyn, who was awake when he wasn’t a couple of seconds ago, “When the hell did you wake up?!”
“A couple of moments ago, but stop deflecting. You and Lyra jumped out of a plane, yes?”
“Guys!” Lyra shouts, stomping her foot down to bring the attention back to her, “Parachuting is completely normal in this day and age. Marius invited me to see the opening of a new center at the time and I decided I wanted to try it! We went over training and everything!”
“Yeah what Missy said!” Three pairs of eyes narrowed at him, “A-And I have a Free Falling Proficiency License!”
“And besides, it happened ages ago! Now, let’s focus on getting to the hotel, yeah? Where are we staying?”
“The Gran Fjord Hotel.” Artem pipes up. Vyn wrinkles his nose, but no one notices. “It’s a hotel 30 minutes from here and a walk away from the royal palace.”
Luke hums, “Is this the hotel with the really old candelabra?”
“The Grand Fjord Chandelier was a gift from the nation of France for the foundation and alliance of the country. It is not just a candelabra.” Vyn pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “Please, never say that out loud. You will be judged severely.”
“You know,” Marius waves around his hand, “Svart makes no sense. What the hell are these standards?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Luke clapped his hands, “Alright alright, history lesson and social standards aside, we have a plane to get off of and a hotel to get to. We can regroup in the morning.”
—
The crisp air of Svart sent a chill through his body. He wasn’t meant to return, he knew that. It was evident that… the rest of the population knew that as well.
He had almost forgotten the whispers that followed him everywhere in his time. What was he, a character in a children’s book? ‘The Dark One’ this, ‘The Tainted One’ that. Time certainly muddled his memories. And those memories… made it hard to sleep. Made it hard to think. Night-time roaming is something he rarely did. Was it because of the change in time that he was roaming the halls? Or was he plagued by something more?
It’s why he was on the balcony now when normally he would be in bed.
“Should you not be asleep, Artem?”
The halls were silent at this time of night, so Vyn was able to tell someone was walking toward him. It was his luck that he memorized the gait of his teammates. A remnant of his days in Svart when he wanted to hide from his father's advisers and know when to come out of the room he was in. A habit that, quite frankly, had not reared its head until today.
“I napped on the plane. Are you alright, Vyn?” He asks, stopping right beside him and leaning on the rail of the balcony.
“My body is still adjusting to the time change.”
Artem hums but says nothing more.
Vyn relished his stay in the silence. He knew Artem did well in silence, often preferring it when engaging in paperwork. This silence, however, held tension from Artem and he had no idea why. They hadn't squabbled like last time nor had they started their case. So, why was he really here? He wasn’t interested in his well-being… Was he?
“I wasn’t asking about the jetlag. I was asking if you were alright.”
Guess he was asking about him. How… nice of him.
“I am well.” He says, moving past Artem towards the hall, “I suggest you go to bed. We have a busy day tomorrow, after all.”
“Why did the receptionist call you… I believe the term loosely translates to ‘Bastard’?”
Vyn froze mid-step. “What?”
“When we first entered the hotel and you asked for our keys—”
“Yes I know what I did,” Vyn turns around and stalks towards Artem, “How did you know what they were saying?”
“I’ve been practicing Svartish for well over a year now.” He shrugs. “I thought everyone knew.”
Vyn scowled at his blasé response, “You will talk of this to no one. Do you understand?”
“Vyn… What’s going on?”
He didn’t reply to the question, just turned around and left. He knew Artem as well as he knew the rest of the team. He knew all of them were smart and had very good deducting skills. There was a reason why he and the original NXX had chosen their replacements should anything have gone wrong. (He tries not to think of the fact that things had to have gone wrong for Neil and Giann to use their replacements. He thinks about his replacement, one who had not been informed just as the others had not.). It wasn’t too hard to connect the dots, after all. Not with people calling him names that Artem could understand.
It was just a week. A week of constant whispers and dirty glares. A week before he can go home and stress bake like there’s no tomorrow. A week and then he will never willingly take a step in Svart again.
He just hoped he could last the week.
—
There were perks to having people avoid you like the plague. It meant no one would bother him (or by extension, his friends teammates). It meant that, somehow, there was always a 10 feet radius that no one would come close to unless they had to. It meant privacy, something that his team greatly appreciated early in the morning.
“Alright,” Artem says over their plates of continental breakfast, “We have a couple of things to delegate out.”
Marius huffed in annoyance, “Can we not wait until we’re done eating?”
“It’s easier to delegate them now that we’re all together.”
“This could have been an email, Artem,” Vyn says over his cup of tea.
“It really couldn’t have, since we’re splitting up. We need to go to the palace to find out about the packets and then we have to snoop around to see who is selling them here.” Luke sighs, pulling out his tablet and placing it down on the table. “I asked for their list of exports from the NSB and there are no exports from Herrison anywhere else other than Stellis.”
Lyra hums, “So that means someone is selling them under the table.”
“Yes, or they could be exporting them illegally. Regardless, we need a team to take care of the search for the packets in stores while the other takes care of talking with the Duke.”
The table goes silent for a couple of seconds. They’re used to dealing with the shadier parts of Stellis by now, given how many cases they’ve been on together. It was something entirely to… have an international case, so to speak.
“We’re not going to have an even split, but we do know that there has to be at least one person with a PI license in each group,” Artem says. “There should also be one person in each group to act as a translator for the others.”
Luke placed down two earbuds on top of his tablet, “I made these a while back. They’re micro-translators, they can help you understand what people are saying but not speak back to them. I already have mine, Artem and Vyn don’t need one.”
Marius and Lyra took one earbud each, placing them in their ears.
“So, how do we use these?” Marius asks Luke.
Luke, for the most part, brightens up considerably at the chance to explain his gadgets. “Same as any decent earbud. Triple tap for on, double tap for off. They’re off by default and have a battery life of five days, so that won't die on you at all this week.”
“Thanks, Inspector Gadget.”
“You know,” Luke snorts, “I’m taking that as a compliment. So, we have team Artem and team Vyn. One team will be in charge of scoping out the palace while the other will scope out the shops.”
“Then my team will be the one that goes to look at the shops,” Vyn says, taking a sip of his tea.
“Well, we were hoping to have you on the palace team, given you're the native speaker. Impressions and all that.”
Vyn sighs. Of course he would be the one to go to the palace. The world wouldn’t give him a break, would it?
“Given the ridiculous double standards this place has,” Marius announced, “I’ll go with Vyn. If there’s anything I know how to do is sucking it up to old rich people.”
“More like they give you what you want so that you get out of their face,” Lyra says, bumping into Marius’ shoulder.
“Missy! How dare you!”
“I’m kidding, you’re a joy to be around and anyone would be lucky to have you.”
“But you hurt my feelings,” Marius pouts dramatically. “So you have to come with me to the palace now.”
Lyra, the saint that she is, huffs in good nature. ”Fine, fine. Only because I want to see the palace too.”
“Alright. Lyra, Marius, and Vyn get to go to the castle while Artem and I walk around asking questions. Good job, team.” Luke says, beaming at the rest of the team (but particularly focusing on Lyra.).
“With that out of the way, I am sure some of us would appreciate being able to finish our food,” Vyn sighs. “After all, it is not every day you get to have freshly made boysenberry jam.”
—
Marius wasn’t stupid. He knew people underestimated him because of his age. Because of the shadow he was to Giann. Because he was a ‘rich snobby kid who didn’t know how to fend for himself in the real world’.
It's not something he liked to be known for, but sometimes it comes with advantages. He’s well aware that people underestimate him, so he proves them wrong at every turn. He fought to change the perception of people, hell, he’s still fighting that uphill war.
So sue him if he recognizes the signs of the war being fought. (Don’t use Artem or Lyra, though. He’s not sure if he’s cut out for jail again.)
Even without Luke’s wonder-all translation device, he knows people are talking behind his back. It's just a weird sensation that he’s not the one being talked about. Okay, he is, but he can tell it's a height thing more than anything. (His forehead is still sore from the solid smack he gave himself on the doorframe. Who knew the tallest people in Svart were shorter than people in Stellis?) The looks he gets are not negative in the slightest and it's so refreshing. The looks he gets from the people around him are filled with awe and curiosity.
The looks Vyn gets are full of disdain.
If Vyn is aware of the whispers behind his back he doesn’t show it. It comes with practice, he muses. He knows he's gotten pretty decent at ignoring all the bad press unless it starts to negatively impact PAX stock. Things get to him, though. It's not often but they do. Anything about Giann is still an incredibly tender spot for him, even if he tries to trick himself into thinking it's not.
Point is, he knows the signs and he doesn’t like seeing them on anyone else. That includes his ragtag gang of friends misfits. And yes, this includes Doctor Richter. He thinks he’s so slick hiding his fist inside the pocket of his coat, or the subtle stiffness of his shoulders whenever he hears something.
The most damning piece of evidence, as his Missy would say, was the way he carried a conversation.
For all Vyn is, he likes to lead without being seen. He likes to tug at people’s strings like puppets, he’s seen it. He’s experienced it. It was what made him such an effective teacher. He guides you to the answer while letting you jump all the hurdles so that it feels like you figured it out. It’s as if a conversation is a dance with him leading. For Vyn to take a step back and be led is surprising for everyone. It’s as if he wants to take control back again but doesn't.
Why?
It’s not notable to someone who spends little time with Vyn, but as someone who does? It’s still incredibly hard to notice but the tells are there. Normally, Vyn talks and awaits a response with an end goal. It doesn’t matter what it is, there is somehow always an end goal. Hearing Vyn recite facts after Lyra asked for them only for the atmosphere to turn awkward… it was something unseen.
“So,” he asks, placing his hands behind his head, “When do we meet the Duke?”
“Soon enough.”
Marius pouts. This isn't normal. He turns to Lyra, surely his Missy knows what’s going on, and that sad glimmer in her eye tells him that she does. She’s just too nice to air out Vyn’s dirty laundry like that.
But… something in the pit of his stomach is telling him that something is wrong. So he’ll just keep watching, ensuring that Vyn doesn't reach his limit. Because even people talking behind your back gets old quick, especially if it's been a while since it happened. And as they step closer and closer to the castle…
He can’t help but notice how Vyn keeps dragging his feet.
—
The town was lively, in the middle of a festival. If only he knew what the festival was for…
Sure, there are banners everywhere with, what he assumes is, the name of the entire thing. He’s not versed in Svartish enough to even get an idea of what it was. So he doesn't try. After all, it’s easier to play the bumbling, foolish tourist when you are one.
—
“We have to split up,” Luke tells Artem, looking around the street.
“What? I thought the point was to—”
“The point is to gather information, and it’s more efficient for us to split up.”
Artem stares at him incredulously, and he can’t blame him. After all, who openly volunteers to get lost in a city they have no idea how to navigate OR read its language?
“Trust me. I know what I’m doing.”
They stay quiet for a couple of seconds before Artem sighed in defeat. “Fine. I’ll keep my ringer on in case you need a rescue.”
“Okay.”
—
He skirts around the edge of the festival. It's some type of harvest celebration, he muses. There are a lot of stalls full of fruits and vegetables that people are buying, little photo booths, and activities that little kids are going absolutely wild for. Like the bloodbath that was throwing berries at each other—
A stray berry smacks right into his face.
He looks over to where the berry should have been thrown from and finds three little kids pointing a finger at a fourth who… had their back turned and most likely had no idea that Luke was there. He waves them off because who was he to run their fun? It was just a berry.
Luke does move further into the festival though, just in case he’s about to be pelted with berries again.
Looking around he finds nothing that interests him. Nothing that screams ‘Come here and check out these cool packets for your drink that are definitely not good for you!’. So he presses on, looking at the different vendors in hopes of finding something noteworthy.
It takes him a few minutes until he makes his first doubletake of the entire day. There’s a cat on one of the booths but it's… wearing a hat. A hat shaped like the berries the little kids were throwing at one another. The cat is massive, he’s sure the cat Vyn rescued has nothing on this one. An absolute unit and Luke, who is more of a dog person with a small fondness for cats, is surprised to be absolutely bewitched by it.
He makes his way over to the stall the cat is at (and it looks like they sell pet hats. Maybe he could ask if they had any bird hats— focus!) and stops right in front of the cat. The cat stares at him with its bright yellow eyes and Luke stares back. He decides that fuck it, if that cat is staring at his soul he might as well be at eye level with it. He squats down so that he and the cat are eye to eye. The cat blinks (HA! He beat the cat at a staring competition!) and leans forward, taking a couple of sniffs of his forehead. It extends its little paw and gives him a little bap on the nose. He smiles at the cat and gives it a little boop on its nose.
There, even.
…He didn’t realize that the market had gone quiet. Eerily quiet. And that they were staring at him. Just as he’s about to open his mouth, someone in the crowd interrupts him.
The delay in the translator is marginal, so he hears it at the same time everyone else does.
“FAT LOUIE HAS CHOSEN!”
The entire festival loses its collective shit. Suddenly he’s being tugged into a store by two eager-looking people telling him to ‘Come! We have to get you dressed!’ and he’s not going to say no. This is literally the best way to find someone who understands Stellan!
They sit him down on a chair that’s inside one of the clothing shops around there. One of the two people that dragged him there ventures deep into the store, clamoring about having something just in his size, while the other looks at him.
“I haven’t seen you around here. Who are you?”
He might as well break it to them now. “My name is Luke Pearce, I’m a tourist from Stellis.”
The person in front of him tilts his head a bit before making a ‘Wait here’ before cupping his hands and yelling, “Hey Ma! It is a foreigner!”
“What kind?” The other person, this person’s mother, he assumes, yells back.
“Stellis, apparently!”
They sit in silence for a couple of moments before the woman comes out from the back with bundles of clothes, “Go get Ronnie. He had a boyfriend in Stellis once. Learned the language and everything. I got the wedding invitation before they called it all off.”
The person looks back at him and makes another ‘Wait here’ motion. They point at their mother and give them a thumbs up before rushing out of the store.
The woman sighs and looks over at Luke, giving him a soft smile and motioning for him to get up. “Up now, darling. We cannot get you into your robes without making any adjustments.”
Robes? He stands up and holds his hands out in a T-pose. Why the hell would he need robes?
“Oh!” The woman says in surprise, “Look at you! It is like you understood me! What a good lad. What a tall boy you are! I’m glad I got the longest robe then.”
He tilts his head at her because, hey, what else is he supposed to do? It’s not like he can ask questions that she would understand. She gives him a big smile and starts draping the fabric over his head (he’s kinda glad he made the translation device go in a little deeper. It’s uncomfortable for a bit but the stability is everything ) and fiddling around with safety pins. She goes at it for a bit before the first person comes back with whom he can only assume is Ronnie.
“Yo,” Ronnie says in Svartish, giving the woman a tired smile, “Heard there was a foreigner I can help with.”
“Ah, yes. This one is here. He got chosen by Louie to be the Harvest King but the poor boy doesn’t know a lick of Svartish. And you know how Louie is not keen on foreigners either so this was an incredible surprise. This means a great harvest next year!”
Luke sighs, “I can understand just fine, I just can’t speak the language. My… friend and I accidentally split, and since he’s the one who knows how to speak it…”
“You’re essentially without a voice, I see,” Ronnie says, now in Stellan. “That’s a weird way to learn a language.”
“...I learned from watching Svartish Dramas.”
He wasn’t going to tell him he had a translation device up in his ear, absolutely not. That’d be weird and raise too many questions. He was a lost tourist with a love of Svartish Dramas.
God, he needs to get better at improv.
“No kidding? There’s this one drama called Black Sheep, I recommend it. It was my first drama and I was hooked.”
The mother clears her throat and motions at the robes, breaking both of them out of their little bubble.
“Right right, sorry. I got distracted. He can understand you but he can’t speak Svartish.” Ronnie says, switching back to Svartish. “So feel free to ask him questions. I will translate the answers. Inversely, ask me questions and I will translate them. Sound good?”
“Excellent!” The mother claps her hands. “Now, you’re probably confused about this whole thing, right?”
Luke nods.
“Ah, well, we have this tradition dating a good while back. See, that cat, Fat Louie, is something of a fortune teller. Well, his entire line was. Every year on this exact date a cat chooses someone to bless the next harvest. Superstition, I am sure, but I am not about to risk my basil plants to the harsh mistress.”
“So…” Luke squints, “The harvest king is in charge of blessing the crops for next year. How did a cat get involved in all of this?”
“No one truly knows.” The other person speaks after Ronnie translates his question. “But it is fun to do every year.”
“Oh! Pardon my manners,” the woman says after clipping the last safety pin on the robes, “My name is Eugenia, but call me Genie. That's my son Agustus and that other fellow is Ronald, my godson.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Luke Pearce.”
Genie throws another robe on him, this one a lot more intricate than the one on the bottom. “What do you do for work, Luke?”
“I’m a detective. I’m actually on a case right now, do you mind if I ask you a couple of questions?”
“Oh, a detective! Gus Gus, why could you not be a detective? That sounds like such an interesting job!”
Gus, for the most part, looked a little annoyed but also looked like he was expecting it. “I am happy with my job at the library, Ma. You said you had some questions for us, detective? Is anyone in trouble?”
“No no! I just wanted to know if you know anyone who’s been selling these.” He pulls out his phone and shows them all a picture of the effervescent packets he’s been on the lookout for.
“Oh! I know those,” Ronnie says, “I… do not think anyone’s been selling them around here though.”
Gus snorts, “Probably not. They have seen the duke with them. That stuff is now locked out of the dreams of everyone who is not noble. A load of bastards, that is what they are.”
“Here here.” Both Genie and Ronnie cheer.
“...is the royalty that bad here?”
“Oh don’t get me started on their double standards,” Ronnie grumbles, “Why can Duke de Haspran walk around being praised for being a single father out of wedlock but when my Ma did it she was the talk of the town?!”
Gus walks over to Ronnie and pats his shoulder while Genie leans closer to Luke, “It’s a sore spot for him. Poor thing was bullied so much.”
“So I’m assuming his son would’ve had it much worse?” Luke asks.
“So much worse. I think Eliza went to school with him. She said he was such a lonely kid and no one would talk to him. He spent most of his time in the library or the stables. Said everyone called him some mean names. That is where they got the plot for Black Sheep. ”
“Rumor has it he is back, actually,” Gus says, hand still on Ronnie’s shoulder, “Ben sent me a picture he took. He is staying at the Grand Fjord, wanna see?”
A resounding ‘Yes’ chorused among them. Gus took out his phone and pulled out a picture that—
“Is that Vyn?” Luke asks without thinking, grabbing the phone and zooming in.
“You know him?”
“He’s one of the people I’m traveling with. He’s the duke’s son?!”
“He didn’t tell you?” Ronnie asks him, looking confused. “Why would he not tell you?”
“I don’t know… But I gotta find him.”
Genie tuts at him, “ After you bless our crops. Now, let’s see what we can do about that hair…”
“Do not add too much hairspray ma, I think I still have some berries clinging onto my scalp from when I was chosen as a little kid,” Gus says, his eyes crinkling at the memory.
“...I’m getting pelted with berries, aren't I?”
“You are.”
“Fantastic,” Luke says flatly. On the bright side, he’s going to be smelling like berries for a good while.
—
They’re back at the hotel, sitting inside Lyra’s room. (If Artem had gotten her a suite and the rest of the team just standard rooms, well, that was for him to know.) Luke is the only one missing, claiming he needed a shower after coming back covered head to toe in berries.
“What were your findings, Artem?” Vyn asks, rubbing at his temples.
“No one is actively selling them. It appears the nobility is gatekeeping the packets.”
“That’s what I got too,” Luke says, walking into the room with his hair being covered by a towel. He’s still a little damp from the shower, his shirt sticking to parts of his chest and defining his muscles more.
“You, good sir, look like a drowned cat,” Lyra snorts out, reaching over to the bed and tossing him a throw blanket. For her own sake, maybe, but she’d like to focus on the case at hand thank you very much. That and he could catch a cold. “Hey, is it me or does it suddenly smell like the jam we had for breakfast?”
Luke groans, “If anyone mentions boysenberries again I think I’m gonna defenestrate myself.”
“You’d probably stick the landing, showoff,” Marius mumbles out before bending down and rummaging through a tote bag and passing a slightly smaller bag to him. “Lyra insisted we get gifts for everyone. These are yours.”
“Oh, nice! Thanks! I have some keychains I got from being crowned Harvest King, I’ll get them later. I also bought a hat for Peanut, that was fun.”
“How did you get crowned Harvest King?” Vyn sputtered, “I thought the festival was not for another month.”
“A cat liked me enough, apparently. But! I did find out about the packets and the nobles, so it wasn’t that bad of an experience. Even if I got pelted with berries.”
“Fruit on fruit violence,” Marius snorts.
“Hey!”
“Speaking of fruits,” Artem interrupts, earning two disgruntled shouts from Marius and Luke, “How was the palace? Seeing as you have souvenirs, it must've been productive.”
“Kinda, but the real kicker is scheduled for tomorrow,” Marius shrugs, “Apparently you have to have an appointment to see the duke. I think it was for the best, honestly. That way we can all go and ask questions.”
Lyra nods, “They almost didn’t give us an appointment too, but then Vyn said that he’d like to call a personal favor, and voila! Appointment made.”
“It was my pleasure to be of assistance,” Vyn says, though it falls a little flat. “The appointment is at noon, but punctuality should not be an issue seeing that we are so close to the palace.”
“Oh, did you pull the ‘I’m the Duke’s son’ card?” Luke asks.
The room goes silent.
Lyra looks at Luke and then at Vyn, pointing at one and then the other. Artem was about to take a sip of water and had, wisely, put his water bottle down. Marius looked like he was about to laugh, claiming it was a joke, but sobered up when Vyn didn’t deny it.
“What.” Marius screeched, looking at Luke, “How? What?”
“At the festival, there was this guy who told me about a rumor going around that the duke was back. So when he offered to show me a photo, who was I to say no? You kept deleting the file ‘on behalf of the duke’s son’,” Luke mocks, “While decidedly not telling us it was you. Why?”
“It was, quite frankly, none of your business, detective.”
Luke scowled, “It becomes our business when it enters the Big Data Lab system. It becomes our business the second the NXX drug gets involved. You remember what Lyra said, this is our case, and we’re entitled to all of the information that comes with it. You put a person’s life at risk, Vyn. ”
“Cool it, you two,” Lyra says, stepping into Luke’s line of sight. “I know this would’ve saved us a lot of time, but the mystery of the duke’s son was a secondary objective. Vyn had no reason to disclose who his parent is, but I do agree that he shouldn’t have deleted the file.”
“That’s why people are calling you names,” Artem murmurs, “You’re ‘ The Dark One ’.”
Vyn stood up abruptly, “Must everyone refer to me with that? Just because my mother decided to not join the Church it suddenly gives everyone the right to call me that? The appointment is at noon, I will see you 30 minutes before. Goodnight.”
He exits from the room, closing the door with a rather harsh ‘Click’ rather than a slam. A testament to the composure he worked so hard to obtain (that was drilled into him since before he could remember).
The room returned to silence, each one of them looking at one another. Each of them quietly stewing over the scene that just happened, because it was a proper scene. One that… Vyn normally doesn't make.
Marius, again, is the first one to break the silence. “For a detective, you’re not exactly good at tact, are you?”
“Not when lives are at stake, no… Sorry.”
“It’s not us you need to apologize to,” Artem says, looking at Luke, “You and Lyra are right in that hiding the case itself was a poor decision, but it didn’t give you the right to disclose that information without his consent.”
Luke turned to Lyra, who was shaking her head, “Same answer from me, Sherlock. He’s been off the entire trip and even if we now know why it isn’t our place to pry like that. There’s… a lot more to the story than just hiding who his parent is. You need to apologize to him, we aren’t the ones affected by it.”
“Right… I'll go… do that.”
“Not right now!” Marius sighs, “Let him cool off first. He doesn’t get mad often, but I feel like you’d have better luck getting your point across if you waited for a bit. It’s best if you cool off too.”
Artem nods, “You might be able to catch him wandering around at night. He says his body is still adjusting to the time change but I think he has nightmares.”
Luke sighs, twiddling with the strings of the tote bag Marius gave him earlier. “Okay.”
This was going to be a long talk, wasn’t it?
—
He ran away again.
As he leaned on the railing, Vyn couldn’t help but think back to what Luke said. In hiding his family, he had put them at risk. But after all these years, what was it he considered family? Duke De Haspran and his Father were two separate beings, both of which he never wanted to hear from again. Even so, if his father died, what would’ve been his reaction?
Would he run away again? Not attending the funeral like the coward people said he was?
What did the rest of the team think? No doubt they have criticized his actions, even he can see he put a (somewhat) innocent life at risk. If it were up to him, no one would have ever found out, and now that they could understand what was being said to him…He didn’t want their pity.
He doesn’t deserve it.
“You must think me a coward, is that not right, Detective?”
He heard Luke walking close to where he was minutes ago. He didn’t turn around nor had the detective approached him. It seemed that the detective was at a loss, so he decided to end the dilemma for him.
“How so?” Luke asks, walking towards the balcony and leaning his back on the railing.
“I hid my problems. I ran away from them. It is the reason we are having this conversation in the first place.”
They stay quiet for a moment before Luke sighs, tilting his head back. “I don’t think you’re a coward. I think you’re afraid — but you’re not a coward.”
“Pray tell, detective, what am I afraid of?”
“Your past,” he says, not missing a beat. “You’re hurt. People here, the people who were supposed to help and raise you, hurt you. Naturally, you become afraid of what hurts you. You managed the hurt for so long, so no. I don’t think you’re a coward. You’re just tired of being afraid.”
Vyn chuckles humorlessly, “I would rather you call me a coward than afraid after that analysis.”
“There’s something I don’t understand, though.” He says, turning to Vyn with a furrowed brow, “You still have your dad. Why did you put him in danger? I’d kill to have my parents back, but you’re—”
“You are an orphan?” Vyn asks, looking at him with a shocked expression.
“Ah, right, it’s redacted in my file.” He says, pulling out a keychain from his pocket, “My parents… died when I was young. Lyra’s parents took me in, that’s why we knew each other when we first both joined.”
“...It was not just the fact that I hid the file, was it?”
Luke sighed in defeat, “No. I mean, your dad is right there and he’s looking for you, enough that he sends out SOS’ and stuff! I don’t get why you’re just… abandoning the chance to talk to him.”
“My father sends me a bottle of wine every year.”
Luke scrunches his face in confusion. It’s fair, he thinks, that he’s confused. What was this segway of a conversation? He lets Vyn know as such, and like the cryptic bastard he is, Vyn laughs. It’s a very humorless laugh, but he still does it, which just feels wrong.
“Think about it, detective. What does it take to have a bottle of wine from Svart? A key piece of information, if you will.”
It takes him a moment, but everything clicks into place. “He… knows where you live. He knows and he doesn’t visit you.”
“The culture of Svart is not kind to outsiders. If the outsiders manage to infiltrate the upper echelon of Svart, it gets even worse. My father is bound by his station and culture. He has the opportunity to choose his family, yet he doesn't.”
There’s a momentary lull in their conversation, and Luke uses this to think. He thinks about the pieces of the puzzle he has gathered, purely centerpieces in his opinion, and he starts to build them. Vyn was not outright bullied, according to Ronnie, but ostracized. Vyn was a citizen of Stellis, it said so in his files, so he renounced his citizenship and his titles. Assuming the life a Duke lived was similar to the movies, there had to be a point that leaving a life that many envied became the only option to be happy.
He’s seen bits and pieces of it, and no doubt the others have too. The way Vyn tenses, the way he’s distant, the reason that he’s awake at midnight.
“I must admit,” Vyn speaks up and Luke has to fight down a flinch, “That the way I went about hiding my lineage was not ethical.”
“I get it. I don’t agree with it but I get it.”
“It seems we have come to an understanding, then.”
Luke nods, spinning the keychain on his finger one last time before holding it up to Vyn, “I guess we have.”
Vyn looks a little surprised, but takes the keychain, “Thank you. I will treasure it.”
“So… what are you going to do? Are you going to see your dad after all this time?”
“No,” he says after a moment of deliberation, “I will accompany you, but I will not be entering the palace with you. I… have an old friend to visit.”
—
True to his word, Vyn accompanied them to the palace the next day. As soon as they were about to go in, he gave them a court bow and went on his merry way.
The road was one he had traversed many times, though it seemed the little path he carved out for himself had started to fade away. Fitting, he thought, that the road was healing just as he was. It was a bit of a walk but he made it to the stables. No one was usually there at this time of day, so he let himself in. He passed each horse, one by one, praying that she was still here until—
“Hello, old friend.”
The mare gave a happy neigh, raising a hoof and lowering it.
“I’m sorry it’s been too long, I… never meant to…” Vyn raises his hand, placing it near the muzzle of the horse. The horse leans into his hand and he chuckles.
“I take it you forgive me then?”
The horse does not answer, but he knows well enough that she does forgive him. He opens the stable door and leads her out, placing the reins of the horse on a designated holder. He then approaches the horse again and starts to pet her muzzle again.
“I’ll have to leave you again. I’m sorry I can’t stay but… well you know what I’ve been through.”
The horse, as if in understanding, moves to lick one side of his face. He lets out a disgruntled sound before chuckling, wiping his face to the best of his abilities.
“You’re right. I’ll get the saddle and we can enjoy some time together before I leave.”
The only response is a very enthusiastic neigh from his horse, and who was he to deny her a simple pleasure?
—
Luke, Marius, Lyra, and Artem were waiting outside of the gates of the palace as he made his way out. A stable head came to him as he was riding his horse, letting him know that his friends had finished talking to the duke and that they would take care of returning his horse to the stable.
After hugging his horse goodbye, Vyn left for the gates. And they were waiting for him.
“Hey!” Lyra waved him over, “how was your friend?”
“She is in good health. I hope I did not make you wait that long.”
“Not at all,” Artem says, shoving his hands into his coat.
Marius nods, “We were waiting for you to decide where to go eat. After that shit show I know I’m hungry.”
“Oh? And how did it go?”
“That whole thing was a setup,” Luke grumbles out, “The packets themselves are clear. I made a small testing kit to detect the presence of X03A, but none of the packets had them. The set-up was the Duke knowing something is up with Herrison and using it to get our attention. Seems like we’re not so ‘secret’ anymore.”
Lyra sighs, “That about sums it up. But enough about that, we should go to McDonald's! I heard they have a regional take on certain menu items and I really wanna try them out.”
“Would it not make sense to go to the Boysenberry Festival Luke was crowned harvest king at? There are plenty of regional foods as well as—”
“Overruled, vetoed, whatever you wanna call it. You’ve probably never even had McDonald's in Svart if that place is something to go by. I’m buying, come on!” Marius says, grabbing Vyn by his wrist and dragging him along. “We can go to the festival later too! You can show us around, right?”
Luke, Artem, and Lyra follow behind, laughing and talking all the while. Vyn sighs and accepts his fate, letting himself be dragged by Marius.
For once, the voices talking about him on the street don’t bother him. How can they? He has his little group of maybe friends. They’re still figuring out how to work together and marking boundaries but… he thinks he knows them a bit better now. He knows their intentions and they have started to earn his trust.
He may have had a rough start to his life, but his future definitely seemed brighter with them around.