Private Tales The Siren Song of the Allirian Piper

[Tadgh Fahalla]

Dark clouds roiled and thunder boomed in the distance in the skies above the Allirian cityscape, casting a dark shadow over the inhabitants and drenching them with a sudden torrent of rain, the moisture glistening on the cobbled streets as excess water flowed into storm drains. Behind a home, seemingly oblivious to the elements, stood Tadgh, a tall and slender man with short, messy, brown hair and an assuming green tunic. Voices could be heard inside the home, a heated discussion, as Tadgh retrieved a roll of tobacco from his pocket, snapping his fingers to create a small, magical flame to light it. He took a drag as he perked his ears, trying to hear the conversation above in the two-story wooden home, but to no avail--the rain was drowning out their voices. With a disappointed puff of smoke, he threw the tobacco on the ground, stamping it out with his foot before turning and dragging his drenched self to the front door of the home.

Tadgh had come on account of hearing about a murder from the local townsfolk--he had a penchant for overhearing such things from his previous occupation as a secret policeman. Now, he was driven by both a sense of justice and an insatiable curiosity about ne'er-do-wells, and a desire to rid society of all things criminal and depraved. In particular, he strived to help where many mortals could not--the realm of magical beings, for which most mortals were ill-equipped to handle. He himself was a pucca, a shapeshifter of the Fae world, and he'd given up that life when, despite his years of service, he had a bad run-in with the establishment and long-trusted friend and ruler, a backstab of mythical proportions that had sent him fleeing into this world instead. And it made him hate the dishonest, and every magical entity which sought to make the world a worse place.

The puddles of water splashed from his bootsteps as he rounded the corner; unfazed by the rain, he approached the front door, where the soft glow of candles and lanterns could be seen in the door's window. His presence would most likely be unwelcome, at least until he explained that he was a private investigator, although it would have been a lie to say that this job was one he'd taken a contract for. The rumor was that a girl of no more than 6 years had been found murdered in her room after, as the parents report, the lilting tune of a panpipe could be heard playing from inside the home. Apart from that, Tadgh knew little else, but he knew that panpipes were a favorite instrument of some Fae, and so the case became of immediate--and personal--interest.

But rumors were just rumors, after all, and he knew nothing else of the situation, yet something about the scenario had his hair standing on end, as he put his hand on the door handle, which felt as if he were about to open the gates to some veritable hell itself...

Erren Serris

 

[Erren Serris]

"Certainly, I can understand your despondence. I need you to tell me everything you can if I'm to identify who it is that took your daughter's life."

The woman sitting across from him, a middle-aged widow with tear-stricken eyes that had left the bit of makeup she'd been wearing a smeared mess, could hardly get the words she sought out through the mournful wails and cries. Honestly, she would have been a strikingly lovely woman if her face wasn't creased with pain. Then again, the light of the room was dim, offered only by a few low-burning candles and one lantern sitting on the small table they both sat on either side of.

"I just don't understand who would have killed her..."

Murder was not an especially uncommon thing in Alliria. With a city so large, there were bound to be a few rotten apples in the mix. There were a few particular details of this tragedy that stuck out, however. One was the age of the victim, a mere child. Why target such an innocent soul? It couldn't have been a random killing; the woman sitting before him had been asleep in the very same house and was spared. No, this was premeditataed. But by whom? Or, perhaps the real question was what?

The College in Elbion was paranoid. They feared it was a rouge mage that they'd heard rumors about rampaging through Arethil with blood on his mind. To that end, he'd been sent to investigate. This didn't match, though. Not quite...

Serris took a long sip of the black coffee the widow had offered him upon his arrival, his face twisting at the bitter sting against his tongue. "It's a mystery we'd both liked solved, Ma'am. Now tell me, you say you awoke to the sound of panpipes?" It had perhaps been the most troubling aspect of all, the sound of music wafting through the house at the time of the murder. Erren had... well, several theories. Magical music was a rare, but very real thing. Such a talent could have been used to set up a murder, under the right circumstances.

Then there was the theory that the panpipes meant something else entirely. That they pointed to this being the work of Fae. Above Erren's pay grade, but a problem nonetheless. For a Fae to attack somebody within Alliria... it was unnaturally bold.

The Widow sniffled, dabbing at her eyes with a cloth as she nodded. "Yes. It was... so beautiful. Even though I knew it shouldn't be playing in the house, I couldn't bring myself to care. It's like... I was enchanted..." Then, perhaps realizing her inaction could have played a part in the loss of her daughter, she threw her head into her hands and began to wail once more.

"I'd very much like to inspect her room." Serris brought his hands to the table and stood, but not a moment later the sound of the door as it creaked open pierced the air like a knife, causing both of them to turn and face the unexpected visitor.

"We have a guest."

Tadgh Fahalla

 

[Tadgh Fahalla]

The wooden door felt heavy in his hands, like he was moving a wall of bricks as he entered into the two-story residence. The scene inside was oddly warm, candle-lit against the gloom outside, though shadows still lurked in the corners of the room. Two figures stood inside, their silhouettes outlined by that same candlelight, the room itself surprisingly pristine despite the home being the location of one of the more foul crimes that plagued mortal cities. Cabinets and furniture were unmoved, vases and valuables untouched. But the centerpiece was the tear-stricken woman speaking to a man slightly taller than himself, who seemed to be interrupted by Tadgh's entrance.

"Apologies for the intrusion," he said to the woman, giving a slight bow. "I'm Tadgh, a private investigator. The streets are practically humming with rumors about what happened here. I, of course, am here to uncover the truth, and see to it that whoever is behind what happened is brought to justice."

The rain seemed to only fall harder after his brief introduction. Tadgh began to wonder if this was part of the sorcery at work. He turned next to the man in the corner, who seemed to be clad in a garb that suggested he too was here to investigate, and wasn't otherwise related to the crime.

"If I may, would you mind telling me who you are? If my instincts are correct and you're a detective, then I may be losing my touch, if you've arrived at the scene faster than I have. That'll teach me to sleep in when it's raining..."

He was trying to soak in as many details as he could, but in truth, his focus was drawn mostly to wherever in the home the murder had taken place. He was two parts eager and anxious; though he was Fae, he felt a certain sadness for seeing the deaths of mortals, whom had all lived but a fraction of the life he had in terms of time, and many of whom he doubted had ever had the chance to live at all. For a child to die, then, was an injustice of the highest order... and if one of his own was involved, then it made it even more pertinent that he was the one who needed to set it right. Most of his kind thought little of humans, and prior to his exile, he had thought so too--but living among them had changed his perspective, and there was a newfound softness in his soul that gave him a small comfort after he'd lost everything.

That might all change when he saw the body, of course, but for now he needed to maintain appearances, meet these strangers, and get a baseline for what had happened. Everything else would follow.

Erren Serris

 

[Erren Serris]

An investigator? Serris' brows both raised in unison at the claim. Erren had come here on orders of the Elbion College, concerned by whispers of an otherworldly murder that had reached the wizened ears of the Foard; he certainly wasn't under the impression the news of this incident had spread so far as to attract independent investigators. So, just who or what had brought this Tadgh gentleman here?

Well, it didn't matter. There was more to both of them than the other knew.

Erren took a small bow, as the widow furrowed her brow in confusion. It seemed as though she might protest about receiving yet another uninvited guest, but ultimately nodded her head at the offer of even more help in finding the one responsible for the loss of her daughter. Serris was first to respond, "Well, I'm sure in this case the more is the merrier, no?"

He turned to look at the tear-stained woman, who only gave him a somber look back before he continued speaking. "My name is Erren Serris. I am not an investigator by trade, per se, but my job does find me needed to learn the reasoning behind the events that took place here." As Serris spoke, he ran his eyes over Tadgh, taking the odd fellow in. There was something odd about him, something tugged at his brain that he could quite place...

Erren's suspicions, and the oddities lying within what Tadgh spoke, were unrelated to any duties of his, however. Perhaps there would be time to ponder later, but not now.

"I'll... I'll take you both up..." The grieving mother sniffled, standing and leading them through the hallway behind her and to the door in the back. Erren paid one more glance to Tadgh, before turning to follow her.

Tadgh Fahalla

 

[Tadgh Fahalla]

"I'm used to working alone," he said, adjusting his clothes to rest more properly on his shoulder. He hung his jacket on a nearby rack, revealing the green vest and white shirt he wore beneath. "But everyone sees the world in a different way, and with something so sinister, the extra measure is certainly warranted."

Erren seemed to possess a certain gravity to him that suggested he was beyond the common chaff Tadgh would have expected the local city guard would send. Of course, for the rumor to have spread, those same guards would likely have already been here, and taken the girl's body away as well, which could make things more difficult. Not that there wouldn't be evidence that the murderer had been here, unless they scrubbed that clean, too.

He followed the woman and Erren up the stairs, as she took them to the second room on the right. Before she let them enter, she said, "This is the room... I think I remember waking up to the sound of the pipes, but when I finally had the sense to come check on my sweet Emma, she was already dead..."

Tadgh's eyes followed the movements of the woman's face as she spoke, looking for signs of dishonesty and other emotions she might be presenting. Of course, she seemed distressed, but he detected a hint of shame as well.

"Erren, you go on ahead and check the room," he said, looking at his fellow investigator before turning back to the grieving mother. "What's your name, ma'am?"

"It's Polly," she said.

Tadgh wasted no time in beginning the interview. "How long was it before you noticed Emma was dead?"

"I don't know. It was late when I awoke, and late when I checked; I had to light a lantern to go upstairs."

"Why did you suspect she was dead in the first place?"

"I didn't--I just thought the music strange, and a mother always checks on her child when something strange happens. When I walked in, I... it was hard to tell at first that she... she was..."

A convenient story, to say the least, which at least put the mother out of the way of claiming any responsibility for what happened.

"She was dead," he said, finishing the sentence for her.

"Yes," she said, tearing up.

"Where was she when you found her?"

"In the bed. Oh dear, she looked like she was asleep. But when I tried to wake her, she wouldn't respond. And that's when I knew, and eventually I gathered myself and got the local guard and a healer to see if she would wake up. She never did."

"How did you know someone killed her? She could have just passed in the night."

"Well, the window was open, cracked ever so slightly, but I always locked it at night to keep Emma safe," she said, folding her arms and rubbing them with her hands. "And I just... I just know it. Emma wasn't sickly. Usually I needed to keep her running during the day so she'd get to bed on time... She wouldn't have just died in her sleep like that..."

"That is strange," Tadgh said with the required emphasis, though his tone was fairly calm and passive. "Is there anything else you can tell us?"

"The guards wouldn't listen to me," she said. "They say she must have just died in her sleep. But I know what I saw and what I felt, and something strange happened. Please, you have to believe me!"

Tadgh was largely indifferent to her response, as he folded his own arms now. "It does seem tragic. You can rest assured that I'll at least be working diligently to uncover the truth of the matter. Where is your daughter's body now?"

"She's interred at a church just outside the city. They're going to bury her tomorrow, after she's been prepared properly. I can give you directions to get there."

Not much time to check that, then, he thought.

"Thanks, I'll make sure to get there before nightfall to search the body," he said. "I'll make sure to let you know what I find."

"Thank you, mister," the woman said, relaxing her arms a little bit.

At this point, Tadgh entered into the room.

"Find anything?" Tadgh asked plainly, leaning against the doorframe, as he knew that detective work was a delicate process, and that his very presence might disturb the focus of his fellow detective...

Erren Serris

 

[Erren Serris]

Evidently, his new 'partner' had also determined that discretion would be the better part of valor in this instance. No doubt this Tadgh fellow was just as cautious of him as he was of Tadgh, he only hoped it would not impede or prevent the resolution of this woman's woes. Serris remained quiet as they ascended up to the late daughter's bedroom, a keen ear on Polly's account of the events.

Before she could say too much, however, Tadgh instructed Erren to begin sweeping the room where the murder had occurred. Quickly the ex-Maester bit his tongue to prevent a snarky comment on the strange man's assumption that he could give him orders as he pleased, but he did raise a quizzical brow at the direction. He'd let go, this time. "Very well..."

Erren gave a small bow of his head to Ms. Polly, opening the door she'd so graciously led them to, stepping carefully into the dimly lit bedroom.

It was certainly what one would expect a young girl's bedroom to look like, colorful pictures adorned the walls, with a soft violet bedspread still ruffled and unkempt from the last rest she'd night she'd spent here. Looking down, Serris moved his foot to a small children's chair, pushing it towards the door to prop it partially open so he could listen in on the conversation on the other side.

No reason for him to be out of the loop, right?

The most obvious thing about the room as he returned his attention to it was the puddle of water gathering underneath the still open window, where rain from the assailment outside continued to find its way in through. Outside, Polly claimed that the window was locked, but as Erren stepped closer, his boot creating a small splash as he stepped into the puddle, he saw that the lock had been opened cleanly; there was no hint of force or trickery in how the device had been operated.

A small smile crosses his lips as a hand slides into one of the pockets of his coat, pulling a small glass vial from it, filled with a strange pink powder. "Let's see if you left me a crumb trail, my friend..." Serris muttered to himself, pressing his tongue against the roof of his mouth as he uncorked the vial and gently sprinkled the powder across the windowsill and the lock.

Almost immediately the bright vibrant pink of the powder turned a deep, oceanic blue, bringing his mouth to a rather intrigued 'o' shape.

"Powerful, but obvious..." Serris spun around, bringing his index finger and drawing an invisible line in the air towards the bed. The glow of blue from the powder seemed to be flowing through the air like a puff of steam, following his finger in a straight line towards where they could assume the girl had been killed.

But it stopped short. A few feet from the bed in fact.

Erren's smile turned to a puzzled frown, his eyes narrowing slightly.

The Maester knew exactly what it meant, but what it meant didn't quite make sense, didn't add up with the facts. When Tadgh entered, Erren would be spinning in the center of the room, seemingly looking in every corner. before stopping and pointing his finger past him, to the doorway.

"Please, ask Miss Polly if Emma had anything valuable in this room. If not valuable, then old or unusual." Seemingly recounting things from his own head, Serris quickly moved to a specific spot a few feet from the bed, facing the open window as he spoke in a more subdued tone. "She was out of bed when it happened, standing right here when they came through the window and took her life. Polly found her in bed, though, which means she was placed there. Perhaps the death wasn't premeditated? An accident? Robbery gone wrong? Faeries are so damned possessive over things they deem their property."

Of course, Erren's mention of Fae would grab Tadgh's attention, though Serris wouldn't know why. Seeing the look on his face, the mage would gesture towards the window, with a coy smile.

"Ley Magic. Not just anybody can tap into that, now can they?"

Tadgh Fahalla

 

[Tadgh Fahalla]

Tadgh complied with Erren's request, seeing no reason he couldn't work with his fellow not-detective, when he had no reason to suspect anything of him. He turned back into the hallway, where Polly was waiting.

"Just one more thing," he asked. "Did you keep anything valuable in Emma's room?"

"No, nothing that someone would want, anyway. Just her clothes, maybe some of her toys. No jewelry or heirlooms or anything of the sort. Those are all in my room."

Tadgh raised his eyebrow quizzically. "Is there any reason someone might have wanted to attack her?"

At this Polly's eyes widened ever so slightly, almost imperceptible were it not for Tadgh's keen eyes from years of learning to discern when people weren't being honest. "Well no... not that I can think of."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," she said, her tone a little shorter than before. "She was just a little girl. How could anyone do that to her?"

"Apologies, ma'am, I meant no disrespect. Anything you can tell us would be useful."

"Well, there's nothing more to say about this," she said. "Finish your search up, and then I think you two need to leave."

"As you wish," Tadgh said, his tone more neutral than apologetic. He returned to Erren, leaving the door slightly cracked behind him as he entered. Erren began to speak of Fae and ley magic, a subject only a few would know about, but now that Tadgh had been exiled from the Winter Court, he cared very little what the mortal did and didn't know about them. Tadgh's eye grew narrower at the magical residue, for the supposition was clear.

"It's said that Faeries are able to travel quickly using such magic, but those are just rumors. Very few mortals have such encounters with Fae and live to talk about it. But, it's certainly worth considering, and based on your findings... well, it might just be the best lead we've got. Not sure if you overheard just now, but the circumstances of the little girl's death are dodgy at best, with the mother being the only witness we know about right now. The only other lead we've got is her body, which is in a monastery just outside of town. I hope that will give us more answers, because right now... well, right now it's looking pretty unlikely we'll find anything that points to the killer."