By the time they’d plodded their way back to the oxbow pond, Safi was gone, along with whoever, or whatever, she’d been speaking to.

  There was nothing left to do but return to the count’s estate. All four of them were exhausted and soaked to the bone. Sussuro was warmer than Varant, but still quite chilly at night; staying in Aakdrift, wet as they were, was a recipe for disaster.

  That night, Safi did not return.

  They waited until morning on the terrace that framed the estate’s entrance. Their anxious vigil felt out of place in the grandeur of the arrival court—a cascade flowing into a fountain below the terrace, flanked by twin marble staircases.

  Right now, none of that mattered to the panicking count. He was just like any other parent, waiting helplessly on the front porch for their child to come home.

  They were even sitting in wicker chairs.

  “What a terrible mistake I’ve made,” Conrad said, eyes shaking. His daughter had a penchant for coming and going as she pleased, but she’d never failed to come home. “I shouldn’t… shouldn’t have involved outsiders.”

  “If I’m being honest with you Conrad, some of what we heard went beyond ‘suspicious.’ It sounded dangerous,” Ailn said. “She mentioned me, the duke. I heard her say Renea’s name, the word ‘death,’ something about the Alpha and the Omega…”

  Conrad’s expression grew increasingly conflicted, the more he heard.

  Meanwhile, the look on Ailn’s face darkened. “And even though we didn’t catch direct sight of it, she was definitely talking to someone or something else—right before we got hit with a huge blast of water. It sounds an awful lot like the rumors.”

  “That was Safi’s magic,” Naomi interrupted. “You believe she was chatting with a pond?”

  “...In a city with naiads, is the idea really that strange?” Ailn shot back. “Does it even matter? A magic pond attacked us, or Safi did.”

  “If Safi wished us dead, we’d be corpses, no?” Naomi said. “Her strength is no secret.” Her eyes drifted to the side, mouth tilting as if chewing on a bitter thought. “Many say she should be First Mage instead of me. Well, let them say it.”

  So she said, yet there was a hint of dejection on her face.

  A quiet lull followed, filled by the murmurs of the cascade and the chirp of crickets. Kylian seemed to weigh his words carefully.

  “The evidence suggests Lady Fleuve has only ever used her magic when followed,” Kylian finally said, his tone more reflective than accusing. “Odd as her behavior is, it doesn’t feel malicious. Which is to say—”

  “We should’ve just talked to her…” Renea mumbled sadly. Leaning against the arm of the wicker chair, she was nodding off, half-aware of the conversation. “Flags… What did she mean by flags…?”

  Ailn groaned, fiddling impatiently with his non-existent watch. “Alright, fine. I’m the bad guy this time. I’m still not comfortable with what I heard.” He let out a sigh. “Then let’s take it from this angle. Conrad, do you have any idea what she was talking about?”

  “Safi’s words—they can sound more sinister than they truly are. It’s difficult to explain,”Conrad sighed with frustration, seemingly worried he was offering a poor defense. “There are times when Safi simply says things. You must hear her yourself to understand.”

  He looked at Ailn with eyes pleading for understanding.

  “She spoke quite a lot as a child. To a degree I couldn’t keep up with,” Conrad said, his voice regretful. “I imagine she became so quiet as she grew older because I brushed her off too often. She must have believed no one wished to listen. Before I knew it, my daughter had drifted far away from me…”

  “To the point of total silence?” Ailn asked, skeptically.

  “The girl was the odd one out even among the mages,” Naomi said, crossing her arms. The way she avoided eye contact suggested guilty feelings. “I have… had my run-ins with Lady Fleuve. I can stand by the count’s statement. Her phrasing and choice of topic can be peculiar. But she is not a bad person.”

  She shifted uncomfortably, trying her best not to look at Conrad especially. “As mages, we were of the same cohort. Her demeanor, and abundance of talent alienated—no, that is not it. We were jealous and petty. None had patience for her, and over time, she simply stopped speaking.”

  “No one tried to reach out?” Ailn asked.

  Naomi hesitated. Her voice softened, unexpectedly vulnerable. “I was too ashamed,” she admitted quietly.

  A sharp, disbelieving sigh came from the corner of the room. Renea, eyes still half-lidded and bleary, nonetheless seemed to focus in on the conversation. “Unbelievable,” she mumbled with irritation. “Neither of you thought to just say sorry?”

  It wasn’t exactly the time to be appreciating art, but a promise was a promise. Early in the morning, Ellen came to look at the portrait of Noué Areygni—the one her ancestor, Elenira Lirathel, had allegedly painted.

  Notably, she was wearing a hat.

  Ailn met with her. Renea had gone off with one of the search parties combing Aakdrift for Safi. He’d head out to join them himself as soon as he finished meeting with Ellen.

  “I’m amazed you managed to…” Ellen murmured, stopping herself. Moved as she was by the portrait, she didn’t seem to have much to say.

  For now, the portrait had simply been removed from the tube that was carrying it and unfurled across the table.

  “...Tell me something, Ellen,” Ailn started. “How’s it feel to bear witness to your ancestor’s legendary painting?”

  “What words would there be to describe it?” Ellen asked, rather ambivalently. “It’s my family’s legacy.”

  The direction of Ellen’s gaze was unfailingly towards Noué’s eyes. That would be most people’s focus. Would it be an art historian’s, though?

  Unfortunate as the circumstances were that led to it, he was glad he got a chance to speak to Ellen alone.

  “You must really love Noué,” Ailn said.

  “...What?” Ellen froze.

  She turned her head slowly. Her face was blank, yet threatening—her dilated pupils were the only hint of her hostility.

  “I meant love her as a subject, of course. You’ve spent your whole life studying her,” AIln threw out. “I figured you’d love her the way a classicist loves Antiquity.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve heard the term,” Ellen said quietly.

  “I didn’t mean to offend,” Ailn said. He gave a sheepish look as if he were backing off. “I just thought… well, I’m no artist, but you didn’t seem all that interested in Elenira’s technique.”

  “Why should I be?” Ellen couldn’t hold back a scoff. “She’s just… a footnote to Noué.”

  “Do you think that’s how Noué saw her?” Ailn asked.

  “...I don’t know,” Ellen said. She sounded rather melancholy about it.

  Taking another tack, Ailn turned his gaze appreciatively toward the portrait.

  “You know, it’s the eyes that really get me,” Ailn said. He was being honest. “There’s the legend that her eyes turned gold whenever she was inspired by divinity, but I think they’re beautiful in their own right.”

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  He paused. “It’s a shame though.”

  “What is?” Ellen asked.

  She’d been smiling, as Ailn complimented Noué—almost like she’d been complimented herself. But now her eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “I can’t help but wonder what her eyes looked like normally, then,” Ailn said.

  It was brief, but for a moment sorrow unmistakably flickered across Ellen’s face. Her lips tugged downward with a helpless quiver, and her eyes turned dull. Then, quick as her sadness came, it disappeared into a diffident smile.“I suppose we’ll have no way of knowing,” Ellen said.

  Now, Ailn was almost sure her affection went beyond expert and subject. Given that Noué lived so long ago, though…

  The problem was, now really wasn’t the time to pursue this. Nominally, they had another day or two they could spend here—but somehow he felt that the threads he was tugging at would slip away if Ellen herself pulled back.

  “Listen,” Ailn said, scratching his head, “I’ve got to head out and go looking for Safi.”

  “Ah, right,” Ellen’s gaze lingered on the portrait. “I heard about the situation,” she said, sounding disappointed. “I understand. The count’s daughter takes precedence over this, after all…”

  “Er, do you want to just… stick around here? With the portrait?” Ailn shrugged. “I don’t see why that would be a problem.”

  “Yeah?” Ellen’s expression brightened. “I would appreciate that a lot, actually. It would mean the world to me.”

  “Sure, knock yourself out,” Ailn said. He was inviting someone to stick around another noble’s estate, but whatever. “Take your time, alright?”

  Ailn started to head out, his thoughts turning to the search. He wasn’t sure if his skills could particularly contribute, but—

  “Wait a moment,” Ellen said. She looked hesitant, conflicted even. “There’s… a place you should try looking. I can draw it for you.”

  Once Ellen had left, Ailn rendezvoused with Kylian in Aakdrift, hoping the knight might recognize the location Ellen depicted in her sketch.

  Though Kylian couldn’t place it by sight, he worked out where it had to be. The channel was wide in the drawing, with a steep difference in slope between the inner and outer bank.

  Notably, there was a flood marker visible in the sketch. When Kylian and Naomi had gone through and mapped Aakdrift, they’d marked every single one.

  “This the only location that seemed to match the description and drawing,” Kylian said. He gestured with the annotated map, as if asking Ailn if he wanted to check.

  “Yeah, this has to be the place,” Ailn sighed, glancing between Ellen’s sketch and the scene before him. It matched perfectly, as if he’d stepped directly into her perspective.

  They stood on top of the inner bank next to the flood marker. The ground sloped gently down to the water’s edge—a consequence of the sediment that had gently deposited, stolen from the outer curve by the river’s current.

  Across the way, the outer bank was steep, a cliff of limestone with a heavy curve that rose sharply where the river had whittled at it.

  With a start, Ailn realized he could recognize the scenery. Not from one, but two different paintings that had been in the Areygni Villa.

  If he stood on the outer bank, he’d be looking down at the inner bank with about the same angle as Noué’s portrait of her parents, ‘Mom and Dad.’

  If her childhood home really had been here, however, it seemed that it was long erased by time. At the very least, there was no sign of it in their immediate vicinity.

  Meanwhile, looking at the outer bank, the landscape was remarkably similar to the one shown in ‘There She Is.’ The aptness of the title to their current situation was creepy.

  The only problem was that Safi didn’t actually seem to be here.

  “Naomi’s already departed to retrieve Count Fleuve,” Kylian said hesitantly. “Is there a reason you were so certain of this spot?”

  “...A tip from Ellen Lirathel,” Ailn said, scanning the stream of water below.

  “And you have reason to take her word for it?” Kylian asked, confused.

  “Just instinct, I guess,” Ailn shrugged. “I think I see some naiads down there. Let’s go talk to them.”

  “Talk to—sorry?” Kylian blinked, unsure if he misheard. “Talk to naiads?”

  “...That’s right,” Ailn said slowly. “The naiads. The watery busybodies soaking up gossip all over Sussuro. Has no one else tried asking them?”

  “...How many days have you lacked sleep?”

  Ignoring him, Ailn descended the path with Kylian right behind. Then he knelt at the stream’s edge where a couple of angry naiads were splashing especially loudly.

  ‘They stayed there all night.’

  ‘I wish that thing would go away!’

  “Sorry, could I interrupt for a second?” Ailn asked.

  The two naiads stared at him for a moment, before splashing up giddily as if they found a new toy.

  ‘You understand us?’ The first naiad’s speech came out like a high pitched fizz. ‘Or are you just pretending?’

  ‘He must be!’ The second naiad’s eyes peeked from just below the surface, catching the glint of the sun.

  “I’m pretty sure I understand you just fine,” Ailn said, scratching his cheek. “A little help, Kylian?”

  Arms crossed and a look of consternation on his face, Kylian closed his eyes as if he were debating something. After a long pause he finally asked, “Ailn, can you really understand what they’re saying?”

  “Uh, yeah.”

  “Most scholars don’t even believe naiads have proper language,” he muttered, looking almost apologetic for saying it.

  “...Huh,” Ailn said. Suddenly, the last couple of days made a lot more sense.

  ‘Humans are so close-minded!’ The first naiad bubbled so loudly it sounded like boiling water.

  ‘Forget it, Aurelie. It’s Sussuro.’ The second naiad’s hopeful glint turned into a glare.

  “Aurelie, is it?” Ailn got the conversation back on track before they could swim away in a huff. “Just forgive my knight friend here. He can be a real boor sometimes.”

  Kylian just sighed and took the fall.

  ‘You do understand us!’ Aurelie fizzed in delight.

  “Right. I overheard you talking about something that’s been bothering you,” Ailn said. “The two of us were looking for a woman—the count’s daughter. She’s been keeping some strange company, apparently, and we think you might’ve seen them.”

  ‘Uh, yeah.’ Aurelie mimicked Ailn’s earlier response to Kylian. ‘They took Lulu’s favorite spot.’

  “Can you tell us where that is?” Ailn asked.

  ‘Huh? Right over there.’ Lulu rolled her glinting eyes. ‘Are humans blind too?’

  “... Humor me. Where?”

  Both of the naiads pointed to a nearby shoal that happened to catch a lot of sunlight. The buildup of sediment had made a small, fragile island where the flow slowed. Marigolds and forget-me-nots covered its surface, their roots clinging precariously to the silt.

  Gazing at it, Ailn squinted—suddenly noticing how the air above the shoal seemed to shiver. The longer he looked…

  “There she is,” Ailn murmured.

  ‘Do you see them?’ Lulu bubbled.

  ‘Just listen!’ Aurelie splashed.

  Being in Ailn’s company had a way of broadening one’s view. Kylian truly thought he couldn’t be shocked anymore, yet here Ailn was conversing fluently with the naiads.

  “A house?” Ailn asked. “You mean a house used to be there?”

  One of the naiads seemed to be gesturing toward the top of the hill that formed the inner bank. Strain his ears as he could, Kylian still couldn’t hear anything but the nondescript sounds of sloshing liquid.

  “Sort of like a conduit, huh? And they’re daisy-chaining off of it,” Ailn said, his tone thoughtful. Casting his gaze over to a shoal covered in flowers, he gave the naiads a grin and an amiable salute. “I appreciate the help.”

  Ailn rose and made his way to the shoal, crossing a narrow silt bridge. All the while, he cupped a hand to his ear as if listening for something.

  “Did they… inform you as to Lady Fleuve’s whereabouts?” Kylian asked.

  “Yeah, they did,” Ailn said absentmindedly. “Can you hear that?”

  Kylian did his best. Try as he might, however, the result was the same as when he tried to discern the speech of the naiads. All he heard were the sounds of water.

  “I can’t,” Kylian shook his head.

  “...She really does talk a lot,” Ailn remarked. He picked up his pace, walking towards the shoal. “‘The true route?’ ‘Head cannons?’ She wants to sink a ship? Seriously, I don’t see how I’m the crazy one for thinking this sounds like a cult.”

  Frankly, to Kylian, Ailn cupping his ear while listening to a stream of water and mumbling looked rather ‘cultish’ at the moment.

  Ailn paled.

  “...I think she’s talking about us,” he mumbled. Then, squinting at the shoal, he grimaced and took a step back.

  It was the sort of timidity Kylian had never seen from Ailn before. He’d seen Ailn on guard—but he’d never seen him hesitate to enter any form of danger, when the situation called for it.

  The sight of it made Kylian similarly anxious, and he reached for his sword hilt. “Is something the matter, Ailn?”

  “No, I just,” Ailn winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s the way she talks. The tone, the cadence—something about it just...” he cut himself off.

  Then the duke—who’d charged headlong into cavalry just two days prior—shuddered, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “There’s something terrifying about the way she says ‘friends-to-lovers.’”

  “...Sorry? You mean Lady Fl—” Kylian started.

  Before Kylian could so much as voice a question, Ailn vanished—right before his very eyes.