Chapter IV: Case 01- The Three Bells of Wavend
-Part 1-
Under the ceiling of stars, Wavend's waters sparkled and caressed the prairie encompassing the old town. Past the rusting wreckage of a shipyard, a dock stood on slanted legs, facing out into the dark sea.
The planks were of a light brown colour, scarred with patches of a darker shade. An eerie creak was relinquished as a girl treaded on its uneven surface and perched herself over the rippling waters.
A pebble was tossed into the water. Purple eyes watched in fascination; rings of waves spread outwards and distorted her wavering reflection. Silence filled the nearby trees as her image restored its link with life.
The sea separated life and death, sharing properties to that of the Mirror. The photos of Waverly lay rested on her lap, showing a girl who once bathed herself in this very Threshold. She ran her finger down the smooth edge of the photo, gathering the purity of the girl and of the sea that had been sealed within the dark relics of the photo sphere.
Pikara closed her eyes. The sea ebbed and flowed, riveting her soul to its distant shores. Fainter and fainter the sound grew until it was an echo of Waverly’s distant past. Pikara felt her memories meld with those of the girl in the photo.
Water ran its way down the side of her arm, cascading into the sea in a sparkling shower of droplets. In a chorus of trickling splashes, the stillness of the Threshold was broken, reminiscent to rain falling into the lake that surrounded the guild.
Pikara had grown to dislike the rain, for it made her hair all drenched and messed up. However, it was also the ideal day for the mage forecasters and those whom studied the ways of the Mirror.
Just as the sea wavered to a natural breeze, the mage detective’s eyes opened to her surroundings.
“She’s a magician of water?”
It gave her no answer. With it, the joy of discovering a new lead in her case and the fear of failure had tied knots in the pits of her stomach. She released a deep sigh, mixed with the sweet scent of candy and her emotions.
“Magician of water?”
Black boots made dents on the planks. Bellamy walked her way down the dock, hands tucked away within the pockets of her trench coat.
“Oh nothing!” said Pikara in hurried speech.
Bellamy smirked at the mage detective’s attempts at hiding the truth and found a spot next to her.
“Cheer up, I’m back now.”
Silence then followed. Together they sat; Pikara staring deeper into the sea and Bellamy acting kinder to make Pikara spill the morbles of her assignment. At last, Bellamy bit her lip as impatience raged inside her over the period of a few seconds.
“You know, you shouldn’t really hide it.”
Suddenly, Pikara shot up as her curiosity was aroused.
“Hide? As in hide and go seek?
“In a way,” said Bellamy trying to keep her cool, “I know that we had just met today, but…do you mind telling me the name of the girl that’s in the photos I’ve given to you?”
“Eeep?” squeaked Pikara, “Why do you want to know… unless you are in love with her?”
“What!?” shouted Bellamy in disbelief of Pikara’s randomness, “Just because I want to know her name doesn’t mean I’m in love.”
“Yeah you’re right; it’s more like wanting to share your cooties with her.” A frown formed on Bellamy’s face as Pikara giggled.
“Then why keep her name known only to you? Maybe you’re the one that plans on sharing your cooties with her.”
“What! Ewwww, no! I’m not like those models on TV. “
Bellamy clinched her hand into a fist and gently punched Pikara on the arm. Her absurd accusations at her had provided only a brief moment of entertainment that Blissy had failed to give.
“So sad. And here, I thought you were cool.”
“I’m cool. Just like keeping secrets, that’s all.”
Bellamy faced Pikara, trying to catch a glimpse of her face. She stood back up and shook her head, disappointed that Pikara had kept the detail of her Final Trial a secret. The planks creaked once more and with it, she walked away from Pikara. However, as she started fighting away the tears that were to run down the side of her face, she had stopped dead in her tracks.
Even a mage detective who was oblivious to the fact that life was short had shown little regard to Death.
“I am nothing but a Bell of the waves, ringing along only to the tides of reason and truth.”
“…H-her name is Waverly.”
As Pikara heard Bellamy mention the name, she spun around, her beret almost falling off.
“Bell! You know her!?”
Bellamy’s black lips quivered, resisting the urge to profess the truth. After a moment’s hesitation, Bellamy spoke.
“Pikara, Waverly is now the sea itself, along with the evidences which you seek. I find it surprising that the guild masters had assigned you with her case as the Final Trial. The mage detectives before you have tried to draw conclusions of her death and failed. What makes you any different?”
For the first time in two years, Bellamy had made her hatred to the M.D’s known to someone other than her friends…or herself. Fresh tears started to roll down the side of her cheek, washing away all her hope and her faith in Pikara.
“…I don’t…know.”
“Then why can’t you let Waverly rest in peace!?” shouted Bellamy, “Must you mage detectives shed light on those whom can no longer see?”
Pikara froze where she was standing as guilt spread through her limbs, causing her muscles to tense. Bellamy resumed walking, not listening to the sound of her own crying, but to the sea as it protected the Threshold. She disappeared into the darkness among the trees, her deepest wishes were carried away by an ocean breeze.
Pikara breathed in deeply at the consequences of what she had done. Her guilty conscience had grown stronger while walking the dark, winding trail back to Wavend.
The smell of the ocean became overpowered by the alcohol that lingered in the streets. Pikara’s poor little ears hurt from the many conversations that took place and the strong vibrating beats that were emitted from the band’s instruments and loud speakers. With her hands covering her ears, she sprinted down the beach.
She reached the corner of the beach to where the first flights of stairs had awaited her. The further she climbed up, the more of the beach and of the crowd of people that were gathered to celebrate an event of great importance to the townsfolk of Wavend and the Shadowmeres.
The courtyard at the front of the hotel was found empty by Pikara once she had returned. A large stone fountain stood at the centre; water flowing over the sides of the bowl and down into the pool below.
She walked back to her hotel room, passing through the deserted foyer and back up the elevator. Standing in this temporary sanctuary in Wavend, save from prying eyes, she slid her clothing off, piece by piece. Her underwear fell past her knees and down to her feet, it had exposed all of her pure white skin to the bright orange lights kindling the room.
In her purest form she showered, naked as the day the Sentinels sent her through the Threshold and into Life; her energy flowed through her skin and rippled through the air. Channelling her emotion and feelings to the shower of water, she ran her hand down the side of her face, down her breasts, over her navel and stopped at the opening of her birth cannel. Because she was a mage detective, she was given the right to choose her conception. Her choice was to be a virgin, freedom to do whatever she wanted with her life.
After she got out of the shower and wiped herself dry, she put on her panty and bra and opened the bathroom door. Donning herself in a pink bathrobe, courtesy to one of the hotel’s maidens, she drew the straps through the loops and tightened it around her waist.
In the room, there was a mirror hanging amongst the lamps. The reflection in Death mimicked her every move, for it too stared into the reflective glass. Both the Pikara in Life and Death resorted to the Threshold; staring at the person they were pretending to be.
Pikara touched its cool surface with the tips of her fingers, allowing energy to flow into the mirror. It was transferred through to her reflection and back, creating a cycle that crossed through the borders of Life and Death; vapour forming close around her fingers.
“The girl I once was.”
The pendulum rocked from side to side as the clock ticked in the silence between them, the curse of age taking its toll on the mage detective. The mirror showed only the present, her memories of the past. In the inevitable future, she will be another mere puppet to the society she lives in, her life being wasted away until the day she died.
Life was repetitive which was why Pikara became a mage detective. It was also short, because she couldn’t go back to her past. Right here and right now will never happen again. Her only remedy was to pretend that she was that girl twelve years ago, naïve and carefree to the conflicts that were associated with growing up.
She removed her fingers from the mirror, breaking her connection with Death and redirected her energy back to her thoughts.
Bellamy had every right to abandon a person who kept the truth to themselves. Pikara had mislead her to commit sacrilege to the ways of Mirror; becoming a corrupted MD. But if she had told her Waverly’s name, what would have happened then? Why did Pikara need to know the name of the person that she was investigating for her Final Trial? Was she hiding something as well? If she wasn’t, then how was Bellamy supposed to help her? Especially if she doesn’t want any mage detectives to reveal the mystery that surrounded her death.
These contradictions built up in Pikara’s mind and were discarded as she shook her head from the pain of a slight headache. She turned the lights off and dived into the blankets. The clock sitting on the bedside table ticked away the last minute of the hour.
Tapping into her depleting energy, she closed her eyes and curled herself into a ball before the night consumed it. Soon, she was asleep.
The party had gone long into the night. Two blocks south of the hotel, Bellamy sat on the roof of a department store, drinking a glass of wine and secretly observing the activities that took place in Wavend at this hour. Her cellphone vibrated. The alarm had been triggered.
It was midnight.
“Zenbell, Airabelle. Arise.”
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Author's note: Hey guys. This is the first half of chapter four of the story. Sorry that I'd took so long to post this chapter up as I have exams coming up soon and been pondering over a month as to what to write for this chapter. Currently I'm a bit lost as to how to continue with the second part but I'll think of something eventually. I hope you will enjoy it ^^
Any feedback is greatly appreciated
Andy.
