Chapter 38: A Trail Gone Cold

Calen stepped out into the bustling streets of Aeris, leaving behind the comfort of the home that now felt strangely empty without Livra. The sun was climbing higher in the sky, casting golden hues over the white stone and glass buildings that made up the floating city's heart. Though Aeris was a marvel of engineering and elegance, today, Calen barely noticed its grandeur. His thoughts were consumed by a singular mission: finding Tessa Elmein, the elusive second-in-command of the LCC, who had vanished without a trace.

Tessa’s disappearance was more than unusual—it was alarming. Calen knew her only from work-related interactions, but even that had been enough to paint a picture of someone resolute and unshakably professional. Tessa was the kind of person who would show up even in the face of a storm or illness, and her prolonged silence during these crucial times was troubling. Valtheris, a man rarely unsettled, had admitted to being unable to contact her, which only deepened Calen’s suspicion. Perhaps she had become another casualty of the web of conspiracy that had already claimed too many lives—Rion’s most painfully among them.

Rion. The thought of his friend sent a pang of grief through Calen’s chest. He hadn’t had time to mourn properly, and the loss gnawed at him. Valtheris had informed him that Rion’s body had been recovered and would soon be laid to rest with honor. Calen resolved to attend the funeral, no matter what. Rion had been like a brother, someone whose loyalty and unshakable sense of justice had always been a source of inspiration. And yet, Calen knew that if Rion were still alive, he would urge him to set aside sorrow and press forward with his mission. That was who Rion had been—a man who prioritized the greater good above all else. Calen would honor his memory by ensuring that his friend’s sacrifice hadn’t been in vain.

Without a clear starting point for finding Tessa, Calen decided to visit Balthar Drik, the mercenary whose assistance had proven invaluable in recent days. If anyone could offer advice on how to track someone in Aeris, it was him. The hospital where Balthar was recovering was a towering structure, standing out even among the city’s architectural marvels.

When Calen entered Balthar’s room, he was greeted by an unexpected sight. The hulking mercenary, his muscular frame swathed in bandages, was on his feet, engaged in a heated—albeit comical—argument with a petite nurse holding a syringe.

“Let me go, woman!” Balthar bellowed, his voice echoing off the pristine walls. “I’m fine, I tell you! I’ve had worse scratches than this.”

The nurse, unfazed, arched an eyebrow and replied with icy calm, “Oh, really? Then this shouldn’t hurt a bit, should it?” With that, she delivered a firm slap to his bandaged torso.

Balthar’s roar of pain was immediate and theatrical. He doubled over, clutching his chest as he let out a pained groan and collapsed onto the floor in exaggerated agony.

“For a big, tough man, you sure are a crybaby,” the nurse quipped. “And to think someone your age is afraid of needles. Now, be a good patient and lie down, or I’ll have to tie you to the bed.”

Grumbling under his breath, Balthar reluctantly complied, his pride clearly wounded. He barely had time to settle onto the bed before the nurse jabbed the syringe into his backside with practiced efficiency. Balthar winced and let out a dramatic whimper, earning a scolding look from the nurse.

“Rest now. Honestly, you’re worse than a child,” she muttered as she exited the room. On her way out, she noticed Calen standing awkwardly by the door. “Visiting hours are twenty minutes. Don’t make me come back,” she barked before disappearing down the hall.

Calen stood in stunned silence, unsure whether to laugh or be concerned.

“She’s got spirit, that one, I like it!,” Balthar said with a grin, gingerly rubbing his sore backside.

“Uh... yeah,” Calen replied, still processing the bizarre exchange. Shaking his head, he stepped closer. “Listen, Balthar, I need your help.”

He wasted no time explaining the situation: Valtheris had tasked him with finding Tessa, but Calen was at a loss on where to begin. Balthar listened, stroking his beard thoughtfully before leaning back with a self-satisfied grin.

“You’ve come to the right man, kid. An experienced professional like me can sniff out anyone,” he declared, pounding his chest proudly—only to double over in pain moments later.

Calen couldn’t help but smirk at the mercenary’s antics. Balthar was a walking contradiction: a hardened fighter with a flair for the dramatic. But beneath the theatrics, there was a wisdom Calen respected.

“Here’s the thing, Calen,” Balthar began, his tone growing serious. “I don’t know this Tessa woman, but finding someone isn’t just about gathering facts. It’s about understanding their habits, their patterns. Problem is, if Valtheris hasn’t been able to track her down, then you’re at a disadvantage. And let’s be honest, you’re not exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” Calen muttered dryly.

“Don’t take it personally, kid,” Balthar said with a chuckle. “Now, here’s the part that matters: something’s going on in this city. The man who attacked us—the one I took down—fought with a style I recognized. It’s the hallmark of a paramilitary group that specializes in assassinations. And there’s someone here in Aeris who used to be part of that group.”

“Who?” Calen asked, leaning in.

“Magistrate Velis Korran,” Balthar said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.

Calen’s stomach tightened. While he didn’t know Korran personally, he’d heard enough about the magistrate to form a picture, a ruthless and battle-hardened leader who had earned his position through military exploits. Sienna’s grumbling about Korran’s abrasive demeanor and love for conflict came rushing back to him. If Korran was involved, it lent credence to Livra’s suspicion that the upper echelons of power were orchestrating the chaos.

“Then it’s possible Korran is part of the conspiracy,” Calen murmured.

“Exactly,” Balthar replied. “Livra figured it out faster than you, of course. Smart girl, that one.”

“Alright,” Calen said, nodding. “Thanks, Balthar. I’ll head to the administration center. I know someone there who might be able to help.”

With that, Calen left the room, determination etched on his face. He would find Sienna and get to the bottom of Korran’s involvement. And while he was there, he’d check on Livra, hoping she was faring better in her diplomatic mission than he was in his hunt.