Interrogation

"Guide me oh great 'Moon',"

"And let me peer into 'The Star',"

"In this arcane world, where forever night's embrace is ours!"

"Abyss's touch is nigh,"

"And the endless 'Tower's' sky!"

"Where 'The Fool' dances free, where lies all our destiny!"

Deep inside the prison, an office was bathed in the warm, dim light of an ornate kerosene lamp, casting long shadows across a cluttered wooden desk.

Amidst the organized chaos of paperwork and arcane tools, a man sat hunched over, his pen dancing rhythmically on the sheets as he bobbed his head and sang.

His figure was neither imposing nor dismissive—just average, but with an air of nonchalance that filled the small room.

The man, Captain Alton Grey, was a study in contrasts. His peppered hair, unruly yet somehow fitting, framed a face that seemed too youthful for someone in his mid-thirties. His uniform, standard issue, hung loosely on his lean frame, the top button casually undone. Under his spectacles, his eyes, when not focused on the paperwork, held a glint of mirth, as if privy to an inside joke no one else could understand.

As Alton scribbled the last words on his paperwork, the door to his office suddenly burst open. A young guard, visibly tense, stepped in, breaking the serene bubble of Alton's sanctuary.

"Captain!! I—"

"Robert! How many times do I have to tell you to knock!!" Alton clacked his tongue and abruptly turned off his music, his face slightly red.

Alton's voice, though sharp, held no real malice. He took a deep breath, setting his pen down with a precision that betrayed his annoyance but maintained an air of controlled calm.

"Whatever… speak speak…" Alton waved.

"S—sir! I apologize, Captain! But this is an emergency…" Robert stammered, his initial haste faltering under Alton's stern gaze. "It's just that... there's been an incident. A prisoner has been found dead..."

"Hmm?" Alton's posture shifted subtly, his relaxed demeanour giving way to a more attentive stance. His eyes, once twinkling with amusement, now bore into Robert with an incisive intensity. "Dead, you say? That's... unusual," he remarked, his tone measured.

"Y—Yes, sir," Robert confirmed, regaining some composure. "He was found in the mines earlier today! Norman Jire, Fifteen years of age… Found dead under a pile of rubble that seemed to have fallen from drip stones… His skull was crushed by the impact, and bruises litter his body,"

Alton pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose, his eyes narrowing as he processed the information. "That's not something we hear every day… Or ever…" Alton mused aloud, his mind already sifting through possibilities as he ticked his pen on his table. "And he was fifteen, so he was close to being sold… A pity… Truly a pity… Anyways, how were forensics? Have you used a spirit yet?"

"S—sir… I haven't really done anything yet! I came to report as soon as I found out!" Robert reported, and Alton's pen began ticking faster.

"That makes things difficult… Probably a useless question at this point, but any witnesses?"

"None sir! It was an area towards the back. There were no patrolling officers there at the time, nor any inmates."

"Well shit…" Alton clacked his tongue, ticking his pen somehow even quicker with his right and shaking his head with his left before letting out a sigh, "I guess I have my work cut out for me… I better get going now and—"

"A—actually, sir… I did bring a suspect with me… After a very brief investigation, he emerged as a potential lead," Robert cautiously amended his previous omission. A flicker of intrigue sparked in Alton's eyes as he adjusted his spectacles, leaning forward with renewed interest. "He was the last known individual to have interacted with Norman… He and Skylar Rockbell, but we both know she couldn't be involved."

Captain Alton's expression remained inscrutable, but the wheels behind those eyes were clearly turning. "Continue," he prompted.

"No one witnessed him commit the act, but we received a report that Skylar's shadow observed Norman's last encounter with him. Apparently, Norman was trying to extort arcane crystals from him… He sent Skylar away for her safety and naturally, her shadow then trailed after, leaving the scene. As such, that was Norman's last confirmed interaction. The next thing we knew, Norman was found dead, right around where they were last seen together…"

Alton's hand paused in mid-air, the casual tapping of his pen ceasing."Why didn't you say that earlier!? Bring him in!!"

With a crisp nod, Robert hurriedly left the room, returning moments later with a young boy who looked no older than ten in tow.

He had no anklet, meaning he was a dreg.

He showed no sign of injury and bore an outward demeanour of confidence, yet those stilted movements, heavy steps, unnatural breathing, and shaking eyes could not escape Alton's infamous deductive gaze. This was completely natural, if he were anything else, Alton may have begun suspecting. This was to be expected for a boy his age, Alton, or best known by the name 'the human lie detector' evaluated.

"Leave us be, Lieutenant Robert. Thank you for your work,"

Alton waved his hand dismissively, indicating for Robert to exit. The door closed with a soft click, leaving Alton and the boy in a bubble of silence, punctuated only by the faint, distant hum of the prison's inner workings.

He leaned back in his wooden chair, studying the boy with a keen eye. The slight wounds on his body were made instantly apparent, especially the wounds over his eyes. Despite the kid's apparent nervousness, there was something intriguing about him that even he could not put his finger on—something that didn't quite align with the typical profile of a scared child— perhaps a natural instinct that came from years of experience. Nevertheless, there was no evidence to concur with this hunch, so, as the logical man he was, he disregarded it for now.

"Sit down," He gestured towards the chair across from his desk, his voice a mix of firmness and gentle coaxing.

The boy complied, his movements cautious yet deliberate. He took the seat, maintaining an upright posture, his eyes darting around the cluttered room before settling on Alton.

"I'm sure you've been briefed on everything by now so I'm not gonna repeat myself, okay?"

Alton paused, giving the boy a moment to nod in acknowledgment. He then leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, his fingers interlaced, creating a bridge that connected the two in an unspoken understanding.

"My name is Captain Alton Grey. But you can refer to me as only captain. Now, state your name…"

"My name is Zephyr, captain," the boy slowly answered.

'Zephyr? Zephyr… Zephyr…' Alton began going back into his mental catalogue, but he had to go very deep until he finally found an answer.

'Ah! Yes! Zephyr, that slave boy captured with Rayah Vendymion. He's a dreg of no particular note. From reports, he's utterly worthless and weak as they came. No wonder it took me so long to remember him,'

"Okay, kid you know the process. If you're innocent, there's nothing to worry about. Now… where did I put that lie detector artifact again…" Alton began rummaging through his mess of a desk, pushing aside stacks of papers and various odd trinkets, before his search was cut short by a voice from behind:

"Ah… Sir… I MEAN Captain," he quickly corrected, "I have a slave mark on me… I can't lie anyways… Would that not work?"

Alton paused, peeking up at Zephyr with a raised eyebrow. "A slave mark, eh? Right, I forgot you had one of those." He took a glance at the mark on the back of Zephyr's neck before cleaning up the mess he made, "It works exactly like the lie detection artifact we use here. If you're okay with the pain, it makes my life a bit easier. I really need to do some reorganizing around here… Didn't think I'd have to deal with suspected murder…" He groaned, scratching his head.

"I'm used to the pain…" Zephyr nodded.

"Cool, then, let's get started… Standard procedure, first I'll ask three test questions where you are to answer truthfully, and then three questions where you are to lie. Understood?"

"Understood, Captain," Zephyr replied, his voice steady.

"Good. First question: What is your name?" Alton took a relaxed posture and began slowly tapping his pen on his desk.

"Zephyr, Captain"

No reaction.

"Second question: How many islands are there in Sanctum, and why?"

"Twenty-one, because there is no island of 'The Fool', Captain."

No reaction.

"Good," Alton nodded, "Lastly, are you scared right now?"

Zephyr hesitated for a fraction of a second before answering, "Extremely… Captain."

Alton observed as Zephyr grimaced slightly, like he was fighting with himself before he spoke— like he wanted to keep his facade of confidence so he did not look guilty, but decided to reveal the buried truth.

Alton nodded, satisfied with the preliminary responses. "Now, for the lies. How tall are you?"

"Tall as a mountai— AHHHH!!"

Zephyr winced, his face contorting in pain as the slave mark glowed briefly, emitting a sharp jolt. The stark contrast between his attempt to lie and the immediate physical response was noted by Alton, who scribbled something quickly on his notepad with his left as he continued tapping a pen with his right.

"9 + 10 is?"

"21 —AHHHH—"

Alton's pen continued its rhythmic tapping, almost in tune with the boy's discomfort."And last question… Do you believe you are strong?"

"I believe that in my current state… I'm as weak as they came…" As he spoke, there was oddly no light nor pain…

It was only after a few seconds did Zephyr realize what he had done wrong, and corrected himself.

"I BELIEVE I'M THE STRONGEST—AHHHHH—" He gritted his teeth from the pain. "Apologies captain! I'm just so used to telling the truth that—"

"It's Fine," He waved, "Let's get started for real then… Simple question…" Alton leaned in closer, ceasing the rhythmic tapping of his pen which had been a constant background noise. For the first time since Zephyr entered, the room fell to a sombre hush. The thick air stood motionless, cold and suffocating as though time itself stood still, before Alton spoke once again in a chilling, almost otherwordly voice that completely betrayed anything he'd uttered prior:

"Yes… or no…? Did you have any involvement at all in the death of Norman Jire…? The boy who had tried to extract you for your arcane crystals?"

"..."

"No—"