Season of Starlight

Third Month

The Blanche Residence

The City of Kaleno, The Cronia Region

2326

The Next Day

Betty expected to start her morning with a warm cup of mint tea.

Instead, she found herself on the telephone, wrapped in her nightgown, squinting through tired eyes and listening to Henri Fraser speaking strictly through the receiver.

"Good morning, Doctor."

"Detective," Betty said, yawning.

She covered her mouth instinctively and checked the clock hung in the living room, bolted into the wall with two silver screws.

The time read seven o'clock.

Fraser counted on her vigilant mind to further his inquires, but what was so important to call upon her at this hour?

"Can I pick you up in half an hour? The museum gave me your address," Henri said.

Betty assessed her attire. "Certainly," she said, then tilted her head. "Is everything alright?"

Betty played with a lone curl of her lavender hair, waiting for an answer.

Fraser held his next words, his silence sending chills down her spine.

"The Vagabond has struck again."

Betty glanced at the clock once more, breathing heavily into the telephone. "I will be ready in twenty minutes."

***

Henri idled outside Betty's small blue cottage at twenty past seven, parked upward on the driveway inside Miss Hasting's silver Enigma.

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, listening to the ocean wake through the rolled-down windows.

The sound of the waves crashing against the ridgeline transported him back to a time when he was a child, enjoying holidays with his family on the beach, soaking up the sun, swimming with exotic creatures, and relishing a fizzy drink beneath a cerulean sky decorated with soft clouds.

Betty Blanche departed the cottage moments later, wearing an ammonite grey trench coat, form-fitting charcoal trousers, and a white blouse dotted with a large pink floral design.

Black thigh-high boots fastened with copper buttons teased themselves as Betty opened the passenger door to the Enigma and climbed inside.

Her hair, crisp and voluminous in the aftermath of a recent shower, wilted over her shoulders as she relaxed into the seat.

Henri envied Dr. Blanche.

He wore the same clothing from two days prior.

His small suitcase had only allowed him a minor selection of clothing, so Henri was savouring his variety.

It was hard to say how long he would be in Kaleno. Judging by the recent affair, the investigation was only beginning.

Henri wore his slightly wrinkled shirt proudly. He was saving his best for later, whatever that was...

Betty adjusted bronze-rimmed glasses over her eyes.

"Hello," she said faintly.

Suddenly, movement rattled behind her, and a high voice bellowed in her ear.

"Good morning, Dr. Blanche."

James Abbott's head popped out from the back of the vehicle.

Betty shrieked, meeting his gaze. "Constable."

"Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you."

"Please," she smiled, "there is no need to apologize." Betty took a deep breath, glancing at Henri before binding the trench coat over her chest. "I am just feeling slightly on edge today."

"Not everyone is built for this job," Henri said with a comforting grin. "That is why the world is filled with variety. I just need your opinion," he admitted.

Betty swallowed. "About what?"

Henri shifted the clutch and reversed the Enigma onto the road. He slipped his foot onto the gas pedal and accelerated forward. "I need you to determine if The Vagabond actually exists."

"Inspector, we've had this conversation. Anything is possible," Betty said.

"Right, but now I need you to help me find it."

Deep down, the thought of a spiritual beast prowling through Kaleno evoked a sense of fear inside him. To many, it was a myth, and the logical part of his brain had, until now, outweighed the possibility of anything else. Now a new theory aroused his suspicion.

Dark magic.

It was wild speculation, but Henri had experienced supernatural elements before.

Last year, the sinister cult of Abaddon had terrorized religious members of the Prophet Society, killing not irrationally but for a cause fuelled by the dark influence of the religion, Tyscerism, the fatal offspring of the notorious fallen guardian Tysceras.

The cultists held one belief.

To obtain eternal prosperity, they were tasked to hunt down and exterminate any presence of the creator El Olam. While the Order of the Covenant was considered misinformed by the general Prophet Society congregation, could The Vagabond be a tool used by the Tyscerism Cult to continue the mission Abaddon had ignited in Cronia?

Henri prayed it wasn't true, but as he pulled up to the crime scene and observed the KSB officers huddled around the mutilated body, the plausibility of his worst nightmare emerged.

What if Abaddon had returned?

Henri disembarked the Enigma, followed closely by Dr. Blanche and Constable Abbott.

He noticed the wooden barricades blocking entry to the downtown boulevard. A few heads were leaning out open windows in the apartment building across the street, but otherwise, the area was clear.

He recognized the familiar character of Constable Keefer Sterling, scouting the area in his forest green uniform. A black helmet obscured his ginger hair, the young man vigilant and reacting to any sudden movement.

"Constable Sterling," Henri said. "Fancy seeing you here."

Sterling spun around on his heels. "Inspector Fraser! Am I glad to see you, sir," he said, easing his tensed shoulders. "Trying to keep people away from the boutique has been a nightmare. The owners are breathing down my neck, furious that we are forcing them to delay their opening. I explained the situation, but it appears to have no effect. I don't know what else to tell them!"

"It's very simple," Henri said, strapping on his black gloves. "Tell them that if they do not cooperate, they will be charged with obstructing a murder investigation."

Sterling opened his mouth, then paused. "Yes, that could work. Well said, sir."

"What can you convey about the body?" Henri asked, growing serious.

"We have failed to identify the woman," Sterling confessed, "but we have concluded that she belonged to the same organization as your previous man, Reverend Joseph Quinn. I have fellow officers meeting with the Order of the Covenant as we speak, sir."

Abbott put on an invisible cloak of confidence and looked down at the body. He suddenly lost all anxiety, and he felt obliged to speak. "Sir," he said. "That is Tuluva Smallboy."

Henri dissected the corpse from afar.

Abbott was right! Behind the disturbing wounds was the face of the priestess who had approached them on the night of Reverend Quinn's death.

"She was the one that told us about The Vagabond, sir," Abbott said.

Constable Sterling studied the victim. "What do you think, sir?" he asked, looking at Henri. "An unfortunate coincidence?"

Henri shook his head. "No, more like unfinished business."

Constable Sterling evaluated Fraser's theory. "Sir, I regret to report that the situation is far worse than we expected."

"How so, Constable?"

"The priestess was not the only victim. We found a blood-stained coat near the entrance of the Rossetto Boutique. A civilian appeared to be caught in the crossfire."

"Were they connected to the Prophet Society?"

"No, sir," Sterling said. "By our knowledge, completely unrelated."

"And you know this how?" Henri asked.

"Through a reliable witness," Sterling said. He hesitated before proceeding. "The victim's brother."

Henri grimaced, stepping forward. "Alright, where is the body?"

"Sir, there isn't one," Sterling said. "The Vagabond devoured them. The creature is real!"