Over the course of the past several months, the Silver Moon Inn had acquired a reputation for being an establishment that was hospitable, with great food and services available at a price that was hard to beat in a place like Rose Garden. Throughout the day, people came and went as they pleased—some were regular customers of the café, others were guests that were staying for extended periods of time—but it was always a place filled with jovial faces and brought together a wide variety of folks into a small melting pot of ecclectic taste. While the place served as the headquarters for the Black Rose Guild, there was hardly a place in the building that was considered off-limits to guests and visitors, other than traditionally staff-only areas. Most of the time, guild members either acted as the staff or were out of sight doing jobs and such; there were never any obvious implications that this was the home to a band of highly powerful misfit mages, and, for the most part, it seemed the guild was happy to keep it that way. Although the guild held legal status in the eyes of the Magic Council, it seemed to prefer doing its work in a secretive manner and making underhanded moves of power as opposed to the usual showboating that went on in most guilds, legal or otherwise. Those areas of grey in which the guild worked were dangerous lines that needn’t be crossed, but it seemed they were intent on pushing those limits ever so slightly.
Today, however, was just like any other day on the surface. The customers came and went as they normally did, and the guild took their money like any other business would in order to keep the place over their heads, keeping whatever was left over for guild usage. The sights and smells of food wafted through the kitchen and out into the dining area on the first floor, while those on the second floor and in the stairwell were left to wonder what it was that teased their noses in such a deliciously cruel fashion. Many of the guild members were likely out and about: doing jobs, running the inn, or doing more secretive work; however, there was a particular face that seemed to be missing. While she hadn’t been the most active in her guild work or in keeping up with her guild members in general, Kistiñe had always made it a point to go and talk with anyone and everyone that would chat with her. Regulars of the inn might have noticed that she was not present today. Most times, there needn’t be any worry about the condition of Ms. Ibáñez—she regularly took small vacations to have some alone time—but there had been no indication of such a trip in prior discussions. No, there was something more...concerning about today’s absence. There was no note on her door, no notice on the guild master’s desk that she would be gone for any amount of time...it was an odd silence from someone that so vibrant in her day-to-day life…
If one were to try and enter the Latina’s room, they would notice that it was locked. Such a finding might have been normal for anyone else, but—unless she was sleeping—the door was almost always open; even when it was closed at night or early in the morning, it was never locked. If one were to get past the door, they would notice that the lights were turned off and the window flung open. In that lighting, they might notice that her possessions were neatly folded on the bed—the bracelet containing her sword, her earrings, and her “bird necklace” were all placed neatly on top of her jacket. They might notice an opened envelope reading “de Felicía” sitting next to the neat pile, the letter formerly contained in it on the floor in shreds..and then they might notice the bed sheets; one end was tied to the heavy radiator by the window, the other led out of it… If, by then, that curious soul was not already aware of what had occurred—if they were so utterly oblivious to the indicators that some unthinkable tragedy had taken place—if they dared look out the window and down into the alleyway below...they would see the limp body of Kistiñe Ibáñez hanging by its neck.
Stuffed in the pocket of the jacket, there was a letter. Although it was written in her native Castillian, the paper was enchanted to allow anyone who wished to read it...the text itself, however, was illegible for the most part. In her emotional frenzy, she had written down her last thoughts and those that had been plaguing her for quite some time, but it was unlikely that anyone would be able to know what they were; the cause of her suicide would never be known outright…
There were one or two sentences in the note that were able to be picked apart; in summary, they gave the aforementioned enchanted possessions to Izayuki to do as she pleased with them; be it giving them to the guild for communal use, or handing them out individually. The coat itself was to go to Azalea, should she ever return to the guild.
Today, however, was just like any other day on the surface. The customers came and went as they normally did, and the guild took their money like any other business would in order to keep the place over their heads, keeping whatever was left over for guild usage. The sights and smells of food wafted through the kitchen and out into the dining area on the first floor, while those on the second floor and in the stairwell were left to wonder what it was that teased their noses in such a deliciously cruel fashion. Many of the guild members were likely out and about: doing jobs, running the inn, or doing more secretive work; however, there was a particular face that seemed to be missing. While she hadn’t been the most active in her guild work or in keeping up with her guild members in general, Kistiñe had always made it a point to go and talk with anyone and everyone that would chat with her. Regulars of the inn might have noticed that she was not present today. Most times, there needn’t be any worry about the condition of Ms. Ibáñez—she regularly took small vacations to have some alone time—but there had been no indication of such a trip in prior discussions. No, there was something more...concerning about today’s absence. There was no note on her door, no notice on the guild master’s desk that she would be gone for any amount of time...it was an odd silence from someone that so vibrant in her day-to-day life…
If one were to try and enter the Latina’s room, they would notice that it was locked. Such a finding might have been normal for anyone else, but—unless she was sleeping—the door was almost always open; even when it was closed at night or early in the morning, it was never locked. If one were to get past the door, they would notice that the lights were turned off and the window flung open. In that lighting, they might notice that her possessions were neatly folded on the bed—the bracelet containing her sword, her earrings, and her “bird necklace” were all placed neatly on top of her jacket. They might notice an opened envelope reading “de Felicía” sitting next to the neat pile, the letter formerly contained in it on the floor in shreds..and then they might notice the bed sheets; one end was tied to the heavy radiator by the window, the other led out of it… If, by then, that curious soul was not already aware of what had occurred—if they were so utterly oblivious to the indicators that some unthinkable tragedy had taken place—if they dared look out the window and down into the alleyway below...they would see the limp body of Kistiñe Ibáñez hanging by its neck.
Stuffed in the pocket of the jacket, there was a letter. Although it was written in her native Castillian, the paper was enchanted to allow anyone who wished to read it...the text itself, however, was illegible for the most part. In her emotional frenzy, she had written down her last thoughts and those that had been plaguing her for quite some time, but it was unlikely that anyone would be able to know what they were; the cause of her suicide would never be known outright…
There were one or two sentences in the note that were able to be picked apart; in summary, they gave the aforementioned enchanted possessions to Izayuki to do as she pleased with them; be it giving them to the guild for communal use, or handing them out individually. The coat itself was to go to Azalea, should she ever return to the guild.
