Chapter 14 : “ The investigation shall begin”

  The war room lights dimmed slightly as the holograms flickered into silence. A heavy pause filled the space.

  Inspector Jern rubbed his temples and leaned forward, eyes locked on Old Tom across the table. “I need to talk to that human kid. Max Amberdunk. And the Verdalian boy, Rure whishey.” His voice was steady, but there was a noticeable weight behind each word. “Sir… we need permission. I’ve gone through the timelines again. They were there. Near the tree. And now they’re going on a school trip—to Verlan, of all places. The destroyed city. That’s in just four days.”

  He exhaled. “I think we need to cancel that trip. Or at least… restrict those two kids from going. For their safety. For ours.”

  Tom didn’t reply right away. He looked down at his hands—weathered, veined, still firm despite age. Then he lifted his gaze, calm but resolute.

  “I can’t do that, Jern.”

  Jern frowned. “Why not?”

  “They're not suspects,” Tom replied quietly. “They’re kids. Max is a child with no Verdalian blood, and Rure—he’s grown up here, he’s part of our world. I won’t shatter their lives because of a mystery we don’t yet understand.”

  “But what if the mystery is them?”

  Tom leaned back in his chair. “Then we approach it like men. With caution, not fear. You have my permission to question them—but do it with care. Talk to them at the academy. Quietly. No sirens, no cuffs, no drama. These boys are under our protection.”

  Jern hesitated. “And Joe? What if he is involved?”

  Tom’s jaw clenched slightly. “Then we find out. But not by dragging his name through the mud. He trained half our elite force. He stood beside Jason in battles we barely survived. Joe is not someone we accuse lightly.”

  A silence passed before Tom continued, “We’ll form a search party—quietly. I’ll authorize higher-ranking Verdalian enforcers to join the mission. Not just constables. Senior agents from the Interior Watch. Let’s not forget… we’re not just looking for a missing person. We may be looking at something older, deeper.”

  Jern nodded, but his voice softened. “I understand. It’s just… I’ve seen powers before, Tom. I’ve seen battles. What happened that night wasn’t just a sparring match between two unknowns. That was a clash—of legends. The energy still lingers in the air near the tree.”

  Tom sighed and glanced out the wide glass windows of the war room, where the first rays of the sun touched Alag’s skyline. “I feel it too, Jern. Like something’s about to wake up. Something we buried a long time ago.”

  Jern stood, not quite at ease. “I’ll make my way to the academy by noon. Quiet as a shadow.”

  “Good,” Tom said, rising with him. “But remember—those boys… they’re not tools. They’re not threats. They’re hope. Treat them like it.

  The call from the teacher came just after the lunch bell rang. Max and Rure, still packing up their things, turned their heads when they heard their names echoed through the classroom's soft speaker system.

  The moment they stepped out of their seats, the murmurs began.

  “Why is the outsider always being called?”

  “He probably broke something again…”

  A few chuckles followed, sharper than they needed to be. Jimmy, sitting near the front, clenched his fists under the table. His brows furrowed with silent anger, but he held back. It wasn’t his fight—not yet.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Rure, however, wasn’t the type to stay quiet.

  “Say that again, and you’ll regret it,” he muttered under his breath, stepping forward.

  But Max gently placed a hand on Rure’s shoulder and gave him a soft smile. “Calm down, my friend,” he said. “Not worth it.” Max told it with pain he is determined to hide his pain.

  That simple, calm gesture from an eleven-year-old boy silenced the tension like a wind extinguishing a candle. The teacher, sensing the tension, turned around and said firmly, “Enough. Focus on your studies.”

  The duo followed the teacher down the long, sweeping hallway of the Alag Academy. The walls pulsed faintly with bioengineered veins—alive and glowing with soft green light. Tall archways framed their path, the academy a perfect blend of organic Verdalian design and advanced tech. It felt like walking through a forest made of glass and memory.

  They stopped before a wide door lined with silver patterns that responded to touch. It slid open with a soft hum, revealing the principal’s chamber.

  Inside stood Principal Varex, tall and calm as always, in his dark green robes. His silver beard was neatly trimmed, and his eyes lit up with recognition.

  “Max, Rure,” Varex greeted warmly, “we meet again—after nearly a month. I hope your training has been fruitful.”

  Both boys nodded respectfully.

  Varex motioned toward the others in the room. “These gentlemen would like to speak with you. Don’t worry—they’re here as friends.”

  There were four men inside.

  The first was Assistant Commissioner Gopet, broad-shouldered and wearing a dark uniform adorned with emblems of Verdalian law enforcement. Next to him stood Inspector Jern, his face stern from nights of little sleep. Then there were two constables behind them—one of whom smiled warmly at Max.

  “Dok?” Max blinked in recognition.

  The constable gave a small nod. “Hey there, Max. Don’t worry. We’re just here to talk.”

  Jern stepped forward, his tone professional but not unkind. “This won’t take long. We just want to ask you two a few things about the night of the… event.”

  Varex placed a hand gently on Max’s shoulder. “Answer only what you’re comfortable with,” he said. “You’re under no pressure here.”

  Max and Rure exchanged glances, then stepped forward. The room, filled with soft lights and heavy questions, suddenly felt a little smaller

  The glow of the comms-table reflected faintly on the walls of Tom’s chamber. Unlike the grandeur of the rest of the Alag head office, this room was private—quiet, aged, and dimly lit with golden lanterns that hummed with soft energy. A circular console in the center projected a vivid hologram, pixel by pixel assembling the figure of King Jim.

  The king sat tall in his royal chamber in Veythar—capital of Verdalia. Behind him, through the projection, the arched windows revealed a twilight city of silver towers and rivers of floating light. But despite the beauty around him, his eyes were sharp, focused.

  “Tom,” said King Jim, his voice low but composed. “It’s not every day I get a call from the old guardian of Alag.”

  Tom folded his arms and nodded slowly. “Nor is it every day my officers report an S+ class energy clash three kilometers from The great tree.”

  King Jim raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure?”

  “I’m not one for exaggeration, Your Majesty,” Tom replied, leaning over the console. “We’ve already verified it. Gold and silver Fantom Arts—at a scale not seen since Universal War Two.”

  “That’s… troubling,” the king admitted. “And Jason’s child was nearby?”

  “Yes,” Tom said. “Max amberdunk and Rure whishley. They’re unharmed. But there’s more.” His voice dropped, firm. “Old Man Joe—their master—is missing. And I fear it’s no coincidence.”

  King Jim sat back in his chair, concern deepening across his face. “Joe vanishing... That’s a name that doesn’t disappear without reason.”

  Tom’s fingers tapped against the edge of the table, his thoughts pacing faster than his words.

  “I've kept this quiet from my officers. But there’s something else—something I didn’t think I'd need to share.”

  Jim leaned forward.

  “It happened the night before Jason left for the mission.”

  The air in the room thickened with silence.

  “You’re only telling me now?”

  Tom nodded slowly. “Because I hoped it doesn’t cause anything. But now… I’m not so sure.”

  King Jim looked him square in the eye. “Is it something to do with… safety of verdalia ?”

  Tom’s eyes flickered but his voice was calm. “You don’t know?”

  The king shook his head. “No. I’ve never been told of any problems. Not by the council, not by the elders, not by Jason.”

  Tom exhaled deeply, then smiled with the weight of an old man who’d seen too much.

  “Then perhaps it’s time someone did.”

  The hologram shimmered, and the signal began to fade.

  King Jim’s final words came through just before the feed cut.

  “Then next time we speak, don’t hold back, Tom. We may not have that kind of time anymore, now I have some important duties to deal with, my royal control room will contact you.”

  The signal collapsed into particles of light. Alone once more in the still room, Tom looked out the small window over Alag, where the faint glow of the Great Tree could still be seen in the horizon mist.

  He whispered to himself, “One day before Jason left… it began.”