I knelt on the rubble, focused, looking at the floors in detail, Miss Tempter had already disappeared, telling me I wouldn't find anything of value in this destroyed pile of concrete.
That was a bet I'm willing to make.
During my infiltration, the entire house felt too big.
And why was miss beyfong in the library?, why did she want to be disturbed by anyone?, even her husband, I speculated my clues should be on the books sprawled across the floor from the libraries remains.
I search and searched, but the books all talked about business, pharmacy or cultural arts.
I was about to give up, but that's when I stepped on a hollow slab on concrete on the floor.
I raised my sleeves and tried to pry it open, and to my surprise, it actually came lose, revealing a staircase that travelled underground into the darkness.
*Would you look at that*
I grinned, taking a step forward.
I passed this tunneling path with careful steps caressing the walls, the only light source I had was the lantern I found lying amongst the rubble, thank God it still had oil.
As I descended, my hands caressed the walls with were filled with carvings of dragons.
Made me think, why didn't she summon the dragon during our fight that Andrew illustrated, was it a one time thing?, I wasn't sure.
I arrived at the bottom of the stairs to see a small room about the size of my palor, on it's walls were shelves that were melted with corrosive blood, books were damaged beyond repair and cracks ran through the ceiling, dripping with an acidic potency.
"Did she destroy this place to?"
I let out a breath.
Off course that bitch would destroy the evidence.
I couldn't give up, I put one my black gloves and skimmed the torn papers.
Some depicted rituals of people being murdered on a massive alter, some talked about unseen realms, I scraped every bit of information I could find, but most of them didn't make sense.
I found out a few things though.
Miss veil was a part of a secret circle called the {Blood Sisters}.
"The {Blood Sisters} huh?" I thought back to the white lady in the red dress and umbrella.
"Is she part of the {Blood Sisters} too?"
That's all I was able to understand form all the pile of half pages.
Amidst my depression I spotted a book amongst the puddle covered in some sort of scales.
Unlike the rest, this one was untouched.
I flipped the page.
*Mystic arts documentary, by proff. Rudof Alfred of the mystic arts university of Origin laws and arcane socercry.*
"Mystic arts university...?" My interest was instantly piqued.
*Ring* *Ring*
I heard the cathedral's bell from way down there, morning had already arrived. Spent all night searching for clues.
I stuffed the book in my coat and headed upstiars.
****
The cathedral bustled with believers, automobiles drove past as the wealthy nobles went about their day, rhythmic hymns echoed from inside soothing the crowd as the sermon began.
I sat in the back seat of the church, battling the urge to fall asleep, I hadn't even taken a nap since yesterday, so I was exhausted to say the least.
The sermon was over and I dragged my feet to my apartment.
"Hello"
*Huh?*
I looked at the young boy in glasses greeting me.
He wore short pants with a suspender over his white shirt and a fabiced hat and an innocent smile.
"What do you want " I asked the dude.
He pointed at me.
"Excuse me sir, you looked stressed, might I interst you in some of my physical theraputic sessions."
He smiled at me.
This guy wasn't even up to 18
I smiled
"I might just take you up on your offer "
He took out a card and lent it to me.
*Plastic?*
Businesses who use plastic as cards are usually huge enterprises.
I stuffed the card into my pocket.
"Sure I'll make sure to visit sometime".
The young lad smiled at me. "Ok sir". And scurried away.
I arrived at my apartment to see a couple people moving my stuff away, I wanted to stop them but then I remembered.
I was supposed to be dead.
I left the scene and took a steam train to the nearest town, where news of my death wasn't rampant, my home town, Austria.
I got on the train and paid the cap a few kronen.
The train started moving and I didn't know how I dozed off. But I did.
The train arrived in the evening and I got off the trian port feeling relived.
Frist things frist, retrieve the little funds I have from the bank and rest up in a hotel.
I arrived at the large structure that read, Austrian, international bank.
I went in and met the Clark. One of my old friends from my orphanage, bob.
"Heyyyy bob". I waved
Bob, the bank Clark waved back at me.
"Hey Zack, long time no see."
I handed him the bill of exchange with my signature
****
( Banks in the 18th century were surprisingly sophisticated but they worked very differently from modern banks. People could deposit Gold coins, Silver coins, Jewelry or Valuable documents.
The bank would lock them in a vault and issue a receipt. There were no ATM cards or IDs. Instead, you would present a receipt or bank note.
Sign your name (or use a personal seal if you were wealthy).
The banker verified your identity, often because they knew you personally
Instead of carrying bags of gold across the country, merchants used Bills of exchange – A written order instructing another bank or merchant to pay someone.
Letters of credit – A document proving the holder had money deposited elsewhere. These were much safer than transporting coins.
Everything was handwritten in large leather-bound ledgers. A clerk would spend hours recording deposits, withdrawals, and loans with ink and a quill or fountain pen.)
*****
Bob opened a massive ledger.
I waited as Bob verified My signature, retrieved the requested cash from the vault, counted them carefully onto the counter, and had me sign beside the withdrawal entry.
Banking relied heavily on trust, reputation, handwritten records, and face-to-face verification especially if the customer was a known local or a member of the upper class.
I stuffed the money into my coat, greeted him and left.
I paid for a hotel nearby and settled in a comfortable room.
"Finally."
I plopped on the bed exhausted. Dragged myself to the bath, and sat on the couch with the book in my hand.
I lazily flipped the book open.
Frist page.. –What is mystic arts?–