level_act29side_01_end

The nights spent up in the spire were always quiet, compared to the clamor of the city.

The cheers grow increasingly loud as elegantly dressed musicians leave one by one with their instruments in tow. She remains the last one in the vehicle.

'Don't be afraid, Viviana.' Someone walks over and holds her hand. 'Kazimierz and Leithanien aren't the same, but you'll get used to it.'

She nods obediently and follows the crowd out of the car.

Still, she subconsciously closes her eyes as the neon lights of the Grand Knight Territory pierce her vision.

She's never told this to anyone, but back then, it wasn't the strange new country she was so afraid of.

After all, her impression of Leithanien came solely from the window in her room, less than a square meter wide. It's hard to say that she knew the country all that well.

What she found so frightening was that the seemingly noisy evening outside might not actually be so different from the small slice of the night in her memories.

Viviana.

Are you alright, Viviana?

...Frau Löwenstein.

I'm reminded of when I first arrived in Kazimierz. Back then... you were holding my hand, just like now.

Your palms are all sweaty. What happened?

I... It's nothing. I just chatted with a strange woman.

I stopped by Graf Josef's office earlier, but I only sensed your presence when I arrived here.

She didn't do anything to me, and showed no hostility either. I think she simply came for the paintings too.

Right, about the paintings...

Hmm.

Ah, I'm sorry. Should I describe what they look like for you?

No, please avert your eyes from them.

Is there something wrong with them?

Their odor.

During the Witch King's reign, people were far more enthusiastic about Originium research than they are today. The casters, or should I say, <i>artists</i> on the side of the Witch King, saw it as more than just an energy source, or a material for conducting Arts.

They believed that Originium was another form of flesh and blood, and could serve as a medium for the soul.

So you're saying, the black substance on the paintings is...

Refined Originium crystals mixed with the artist's blood.

It sounds like this 'exhibit' was rather well thought out.

Go cover up the paintings. Use the heaviest fabric you can, and be sure not to touch the frames.

Understood.

I think the two of you should leave as soon as possible. The intruder has yet to be found, so the art gallery isn't safe.

It's not just us who are in danger.

The people living in this city... everyone needs to be alerted.

The ones who caused Frau Seemann's death and used her to paint these works are most likely...

Please, don't say the name.

Frau Löwenstein, Das Kaiserinnensfest is just around the corner, and you know better than anyone that Their Majesties wouldn't want to see Zwillingstürme fall into chaos.

Which is why we're here.

...Can you at least inform the people who came to the gallery earlier?

I worry for their mental state after seeing such horrific paintings.

How kind of you.

I've already dispatched people to check on the crowd who came today, so don't worry. I also hope they didn't get too close a look.

...Herr Vizegraf.

I don't want Frau Seemann to have died a dubious death.

She was a guest at His Majesty's spire on that night twenty-three years ago, correct?

She witnessed firsthand the fall of the Witch King, and the birth of our national heroes.

...I see.

But what of it?

Believe me, meine Dame, on that night, the youths congregating before that pitch-black spiral spire weren't the only ones thirsting for dawn to break... There were many, many more.

Moreover, most of them did not become the heroes they thought they would be, the brave souls delivering Leithanien's rebirth.

Now, I've gotten an update on my intruder, so if you'll excuse me.

He's right. That night changed many things, but change... isn't necessarily good.

The remnants may have planned Frieda Seemann's death as punishment for 'betraying' the Witch King, or maybe it was meant to send a signal announcing a major move.

...Did they kill my father for the same reason?

Meine Dame.

Shh.

Let me finish listening to this piece.

It's just the performance of a vagrant.

He was playing the same melody this morning, but now with such a different mood.

He expected the gallery to be full of visitors today, and was planning to have a sandwich for dinner with an extra bratwurst to go.

But now he realizes that he might have to go to bed hungry, yet again.

Did you... probe into his mind with your Arts?

No need for that. Haven't you noticed? The homeless gentleman is telling his story right now through his music, again and again. All I'm doing is paying attention.

...His story has nothing to do with us, though. The next stage has already been set.

The stone sculpture by the flowerbed ceases to speak.

Instead of words, it now hums a tune, smooth and deep, from the vibrating structure within.

You Leithanians really do fancy your sound-producing sculptures.

They give a 'perfect' performance every time, but it lacks soul... just like the people trapped in the spires.

Arturia gently blows a petal towards the mouthpiece of a large musical instrument carved into a sculpture.

It rises and falls with the airflow, and the formerly uniform tune immediately changes, ever so slightly.

Much better.

Captain! We were so close to catching the intruder, but he suddenly disappeared on us!

Are the roads outside still under lockdown?

Ja. He can't possibly have grown wings and flown over us, can he?

Wings... heh, hard to say.

We... We've really let you down, Captain. Encountering such a setback just when you're just about to—

It's fine, Pym. Go find Graf Josef and tell him what's going on with the art gallery.

Incidentally... I haven't heard the sound of gunfire in a long, long time.

I've never been qualified to wield one, even back in my Laterano days. But I can assure you that the wands we use in the Gendarmerie hit just as hard and true.

So, before my men return, you'd best put away your firearm... and your other weapons.

And then, explain—

What business brings a Sankta like you to Zwillingstürme?

Loris Bordin.

Oh? You recognize me.

Former Lateran citizen. Twenty-eight years ago, you came to Leithanien from Laterano and joined the Gendarmerie.

Twenty-three years ago, the Twin Empresses conferred you the title of Vizegraf, and afterwards you became the commander of the Gendarmerie, a position you still occupy to this day.

...Hah. I was counting on you to introduce <i>yourself</i> first.

I require your assistance in bringing an important fugitive back to Laterano.

Fugitive?

Her name is Arturia.

...Now I remember.

You're that... executor from the Curia's Fifth Tribunal, the Notarial Hall's Fe... Fe... I'm sorry, the list of titles on your sign-offs is always so long, I can't recall your actual name.

Federico Giallo.

Our dealings are considered international affairs, so according to protocol, signatures are to be as meticulous as possible.

Ha... haha... The dozen or so letters you sent to me are still—

Twenty-seven letters.

Did you read them properly? Did you even open them at all?

*ahem!* How could I... Anyway, you wrote all those letters over the past few years, and even personally came to Lethanien, just to hunt down this fugitive, yes?

She has been active in Leithanien for many years now. I have reason to believe she is related to numerous unusual cases occurring here, including many of the cases you're currently working on.

First it was His late Majesty, and now a fugitive from Laterano... When it rains, it pours, I suppose.

Do you require a briefing on the suspect and her situation from the very beginning? Alternatively, you may read any of the letters I sent you.

Ah...

Reverend Executor, if I could have just a moment.

...Baron Lukas. Please go ahead.

Those... violent thugs disturbing the peace on the streets are back?

Alright, I got it. I'll send men over right away.

Uh... Of course, absolutely. I'll be there in person. Please rest assured that the Gendarmerie will keep you safe and maintain Leithanien's untarnished glory.

...As you can see, I'm a very busy man.

I disagree. The social status of the informant should not be a criteria in determining the priority of your tasks.

Look, we're not in Laterano. Speaking of which, you're not allowed to freely fire your gun—or any other weapons—to intimidate the residents here.

No, more than that. You'd best stay in my sight while you're operating in Zwillingstürme.

I'm not aware of any such procedure.

You mean the rules? Rules are set by people.

I'd like to raise an objection.

Then I'll have to arrest you at the first opportunity, Herr Federico.

As someone who's fired multiple shots near a noble's private art gallery, many would see you as the biggest threat to Zwillingstürme's order.

District of Bodenshof, Karl Schmidt Street.

Frieda Seemann, the deceased at the exhibition, resided here for many years.

Right. 'Marigold Alley,' a place beloved by both painters and poets.

Baron Lukas moved here two years ago. He claims he wanted to be closer to an 'increasingly rare artistic milieu,' but of course the real reason might be that the homes here are far cheaper than the ones on Innere Stadt.

I find it very likely that my target has been here before.

Don't be rash. Remember our agreement? Arturia Giallo is a beloved and highly esteemed musician here in Leithanien.

You're currently 'assisting' the Gendarmerie with an unrelated case, under the premise that whatever you find has nothing to do with me or my men.

I have discovered the alleged gang of violent thugs reported to be disturbing the peace.

Immediately executing—

Stay put!

I suggest we immediately initiate arrest procedures.

It's just a bunch of kids who don't want to attend classes.

Get moving, all of you. No loitering.

So you were here too. The instrument sculptures were built under the Kaiserinnen's orders, and vandalism will not be tolerated. You're also bothering everyone in the neighborhood with the sound of chiseling.

Still not stopping your Arts?

What the hell are you carving?!

Can't you see? I'm just transforming the street back into its proper form.

Twisted horns like those aren't allowed in Zwillingstürme... No, they're forbidden across all of Leithanien.

Step aside. We have to destroy them before the Empresses' Voices find out.

Destroy? What makes you think you're brave enough to destroy a symbol of Herkunftshorn?

Herkunft— where did you learn that name?

Plenty of people already know. He'll be back soon, after all.

He was dethroned before you even learned to speak. You have no idea what those horns signify. Back then, he'd erect a sculpture like that on the streets whenever he killed a dissident!

...Someone's already dead, aren't they?

The painter who lived down the street. She was the first.

Run away with your tail between your legs, meine Herr. Whatever courage you once had is ancient history.

'The first soldier to set foot in the Witch King's Spire'—do you really think you're still that same hero?

Don't think I'll let you off just because you hit a nerve, schlingel...

He's gone.

Hmph, let him run.

Why did you not arrest him immediately?

Is there a point in rushing to fill up our prisons?

May I assume that your reluctance to arrest the boy was due to your personal feelings?

...I'm almost regretting my decision to bring you along, Reverend Executor.

Agreed. Freedom of movement would allow me to lock down the target as soon as possible.

No, I meant I should have detained you in our office instead.

Why's there another one still here? Hey, junge. Make any more noise and I'll really bring you in.

...The twisted horn sculptures. Are you not going to clean them up?

Right, I still have these troublesome things to deal with. I really don't get what youngsters have in their heads these days.

They're nostalgic for an era they never got to experience in person. But there's nothing wrong with that. All Leithanians are entitled to feel disappointed with how things are today.

For example... the coachmen casters who lost their jobs to Victorian automobiles, or the owners of the community theaters that closed down thanks to Wrankwood's film industry. Or their children, of course.

When people see no way out, the only way they can imagine a future is by looking back at the past.

Hah. Did you hear all that from some adult at home?

As if. I guarantee you she'd never say anything like that.

All she knows is how to eliminate any threat to Leithanien at its source.

The sculpture... shattered? And so easily...

He is clearly no ordinary student. I would recommend stopping him for questioning.

Hm. Nothing ordinary about him, that's for sure. But all the more reason to keep our mouths shut.

...And now it's actually raining, hah.

Want a drink? Coffee, or maybe beer? If we're drinking at this place, I recommend the former.

I do not make a habit of consuming fluids that will affect my central nervous system while on a mission.

Alright, beer for me then.

You are also—

On a mission, ja. Why else would I be drinking at this hour?

The child from earlier said that you were 'the first soldier to set foot in the Witch King's Spire.'

He's not wrong. What, want me to sign a napkin for you?

I would rather you sign the cooperation agreement I sent you.

Reverend Executor, how old were you twenty-three years ago? The news coverage on the coup can't have been bigger than the ads for some new dessert shop, can they?

'The Lateran who became the captain of Zwillingstürme's Gendarmerie.' That's how the headline went.

You sure did your homework.

I've paid no attention to your ties to the Witch King. The Loris Bordin I read about was a law enforcement officer worth working with, having solved one strange case after another.

Is that why you wrote me so many letters?

Arturia's Arts are unusual, and you are well versed in handling similarly strange cases.

In the year 1079, you arrested a gang of thieves proficient in casting illusions for romance scams. In 1085, you shot dead a dangerous hypnotist. In—

Wait. Stop right there. Please don't take me for the protagonist of some detective drama.

You appear to be avoiding the topic, Loris Bordin.

And why would I do that? It's just that I accepted early on that I'm a loser.

Did you know? Jan, he... That uncooperative kid we ran into in Marigold Alley earlier, he had a sister who used to work here.

She went missing fifteen years ago.

Judging by your special treatment of the young man, I assume the case remains unsolved.

And that's not the only case I haven't been able to crack. Not the first, and definitely not the last.

There's nothing special about it at all.

It just... is.

Heh... A Notarial Hall executor like you probably hasn't experienced failure like that.

Herr Bordin! You're here again. How are things lately?

The doctor told me to give up drinking.

That's a shame. To make a Lethanian man in his prime cut off his alcohol intake is just as bad as making him go deaf!

I even thought I'd give you a 50% discount if you brought the Damen und Herren from the Gendarmerie here for your retirement party.

You're retiring?

I'm leaving Leithanien once Das Kaiserinnensfest is over.

Thiem, what's that kid been up to lately?

Jan? The Universität he applied to rejected him, so he probably went off to learn a proper trade.

He's pretty talented with Arts, and his grades in secondary school weren't bad either. So why wasn't he scouted by any of the universities?

Because he threw away your recommendation letter.

That bengel...

He said you should be trying harder to find Yulia, rather than worrying about which school he's going to.

And also... *sigh* Actually, now that I've gone and said it, I think something's not quite right with the boy lately.

On the day he got your recommendation letter, he asked me why his father didn't need one back in the day. Said he'd entered a certain Graf's spire solely by his own abilities.

'Talent was more important than lineage back when His Majesty was still around.' His words.

...Where exactly has he been hanging out these days?

Not sure.

The twisted horn sculptures.

As you implied, Jan shouldn't have even known what they looked like. Which means someone else showed him first.

Oh, right. Which area used to have the highest concentration of those twisted horn sculptures?

Hm, Gustav Park? Not far from here. They call it Forest Park these days.

You should head home early today, Thiem.

Huh? Sure. Wait, Herr Bordin? Why did you give me your wallet? You could buy a whole year's worth of beer with this much!

Keep it. It's for Jan.

He's a clever kid, and should go to a good university. That should be enough for him to leave Leithanien and go polish himself in Victoria or Columbia.

The rain stops.

The park fountains do not, not even when the rain was still falling earlier.

There are people sitting or standing under the trees in groups of two of three, most holding an instrument. Violins, flutes, cellos. They seem to be playing independently, but the resulting performance is a harmonious ensemble.

Melodies both soothing and mournful dance on the water and float through the trees.

When I was a child, I heard that Einwald was a vast stretch of black forest before the nomadic cities were built.

And whenever someone important passed away, people would go deep into the woods to remember the departed while playing their favorite music.

I don't see you holding an instrument.

When I returned to Leithanien, I brought nothing with me.

I used to believe I could play all manner of instruments, but later I met a teacher I respect, who was keen to tell me that I didn't understand the first thing about music.

But what he meant was... I didn't understand emotions.

Back then, I couldn't comprehend how that was possible. My short life had clearly been brimming with more than enough loss and suffering.

And then?

And then... my friend died.

Then you must have felt <i>true</i> pain.

To be honest, I'm still not sure I truly understood.

Then I left Leithanien and travelled the lands. I would play for the people I met, and their praise grew only more enthusiastic with every place I visited.

But I haven't played anything specifically for my dear friend in a long, long time.

I'm sure they'd love to hear your performance, no matter what level you're at.

I know. And precisely because I know, I hope I can improve.

Have I ever actually tried to stand up to anything in my life?

Can I honestly tell him, with my back straight and my head held high, that I lived a life full enough, rich enough... that it was worthy of his sacrifice?

I can't imagine how he would reply... because I'm not even sure what to say to him in the first place.

And you, sir? Who do you hold in your heart when you come here?

A mentor. He left us twenty-three years ago, but I never forgot him.

He must have been a great man.

I heard that this park was established to commemorate the victims from twenty-three years ago. Every tree standing here replaced a twisted horn sculpture made of flesh and blood.

I have to admire them. During those dark times, they had the courage to stand up and resist fate.

Perhaps you're the same.

A lot of the music we listen to is much older than even the entire history of Leithanien. The wills of the departed continue to live on in us, through their music.

Live on in us... Right. I want to believe that.

Do you see that man standing over there?

You mean... the one carrying a sword, who's been following you?

That's the one.

Do you know him?

Serious, calm, lacking emotion.

Their faces always look so alike I don't even bother distinguishing them anymore.

My time's up, isn't it?

...You certainly enjoy wasting time, 'Graf Urtica.'

Wunderbar. So I didn't mistake you for someone else.

Truth be told, Herr Overseer, I did think I was ready for you when I first walked into the park.

'If Their Majesties want my life, then they can have it.'

After all... from then 'til now, and even for the foreseeable future— my life has never truly been a boon to anyone.

Did you come here to plan your suicide?

I only considered it for a moment. Besides, if I'd pointed my wand at my throat you'd rush in to stop me, no?

The Voice of Mundane has yet to play. So you cannot die.

What a shame... No matter who I hear that from, it never makes me the slightest bit happy.

Can you hear that cello? I spent the afternoon reviewing my past through the sound of music, and myself on the water's surface.

And my conclusion? My life really isn't worth any more than it was a few years ago.

However, just like back then, no one can use it or manipulate it. Especially not—

You people.

What are you saying—

An ambush?!

Several black spheres conjured with Arts leap from the puddles in the area.

They had been camouflaged within the reflections of the trees in the water, and accompanied the melodies drifting through the air as they accumulated energy from the wobbly ripples.

—Ugh!

So they sent a whole party just to execute me. Would you like me to perform a deep bow in appreciation of Their Majesties?

Sadly, I'm doomed to disappoint them.

I still haven't figured out when I'll play for him.

But there <i>is</i> one thing I will absolutely tell him myself.

'I tried. I was always trying.'

'I never stopped resisting.'