I woke up in the inspection room of the same hospital we had visited some days ago, for the four-deaths investigation. The blinding lights reduced, and the blurry vision cleared to reveal the room’s dull-white sealing, a big-enough fan mounted on the front wall, and Rita sat on the chair beside. She had visited to check on me.

 William was indeed back; I did not demand for any logical explanation on how and what way or anything regarding that. He was back, and very healthy, that was more than enough. She informed me, William had finally claimed his ownership over the old mansion and its vicinity, and no townsmen opposed his proposal, for obvious reasons. Though, it would have still taken ample time to restore the place to its former glory, but it would be unfortunate for him to see that mansion once the so-called dimensional seal would manifest itself around it.

Raya, the official from Eva—the first of The Eva Elites—met me on the day of discharge, some three days after I woke up. After our last meet in this very hospital, he expressed his relief, seeing me awake and safe. He asked some questions regarding the anti-universe I had witnessed, and before leaving he had entrusted upon me a rather difficult task to conduct. It was little sad, but I presumed William did not find—from his work and recovering from the incident—time to pay me a visit while I was admitted in that ward. He hated emotional moments, he was always like this. And that is fine, I did not mind.

The next day, I had to visit the eerie old mansion again, after I visited William’s room and was told he had left it early in the morning to visit this place. The rusty gates still took some efforts to open and the gush of wind halfway refreshed me while giving shivers. Even after ownership, the mansion was no different from before.

The interior, though, was fairly cleaned. The furniture still had the veil of white on them and would stay the same for long, as he didn’t need much to carry out his daily routines. I was told William paid thrice the price for convincing the cleaning staff to enter the mansion’s gates, but the main work was done at last. After looking for him, when I entered the piano room, William sat near the window, on the old, clean-looking seat. His expressions didn’t change much.

“I presume you are recovered, and healthy.”

“I am doing better,” I replied. “Two more days, maybe, and I should be all good.”

“You must rest, you were in a . . . strange, dangerous situation.”

“First time?” I dragged another chair near the window, placed it opposite to him. “You should make good use of such massive vicinity.” I said as I opened the window latches and pushed them outside.

“I will take good rest, yes,” I took my seat, and slid a folder on the small table between us. “I must complete a small work, first. Before that, have a look at the photo in that. Do you know them?”

He removed the photo and scanned all nine faces in the picture before looking back at me. “I recognise Rita in that, how gorgeous she always is. And the person in the very middle, he looks . . . familiar, for some reason.”

“Do you recognise the one on the top left?”

He shook his head.

“He says his name is Raya. A really polite soul, gentlemen, he is. He’s an officer who was sent from the capital to Zora for the investigation regarding the four-deaths.” I knew I had grabbed his attention.

Silence followed for a moment, before I said, “I believe there’s no need to go over the details about it, for we have investigated the same incident.”

“Four people entered the town some days ago, possibly outlanders, travellers, or maybe thieves. According to our research, they stayed in the worker’s inn, in the west Zora, and were spotted in the nearby tavern almost every day before some days ago, when they were found dead in this mansion’s main doors. Marks on upper body, from hits of something hard, but that was not enough to kill them, nor drain their blood out at such amount, making it a mysterious death.”

“Correct,” I nodded, and removed a small packet from my coat. “Pardon me, my dear friend, for I am assigned a professional work and am obliged to ask you this, is the ring I hold in this packet, of yours?”

The silence between us that followed after my question grew uncomfortable by every passing moment. I had my eyes fixed onto him and he could not avoid my eyes, which demanded the answer I had already convinced myself I would receive from him.

“It is mine, yes.” He disappointed me with his words.

I was quiet for a moment before I replied, “Lenard mentioned you walked out from the eastern woods, from the area close to the mansion vicinity, the day after these deaths took place. Your kind landlord claims you did not return to the residence on the night of the incident. And this ring, which was retrieved from the eastern gates of the mansion vicinity, as you affirm, is yours.”

William replied with his silence, trying to deduct what I was up to all of a sudden and why was I in the possession of the ring. I continued, “I wish I could deduct this in a different context. William, my friend, I am aware you love wandering in the woods which also falls close to mansion vicinity and you might have only wandered in the place in the night of this incident. But—regardless of threats—shepherds often take the same route near the eastern mansion gates and would pick up such precious artefact, unless it had fallen very recently. Forgive me, for I must ask you this, where were you the night of this horrid incident?”