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rainbowfic2023-09-14 09:31 pm
thisbluespirit) wrote in rainbowfic2023-09-14 09:31 pm
Entry tags:
Nacre #19 [Starfall]
Name: Paper Trail
Story: Starfall
Colors: Nacre #19 (only for the initiated)
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti – 11 Years of Rainbowfic Part 9 (September Secrets)
Word Count: 1551
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mention of a murder in passing.
Notes: Starfall, 1337; Aimon Merner, Leaira Modelen. (Funnily enough, I was in the middle of drafting this out when the challenge was set, and it’s all about secrets.)
Summary: Aimon’s cross-referenced Governor Delver’s guilt. Leaira’s not impressed.
“May I have a word?”
Leaira lifted her head slowly, half her mind on the catalogue she’d been studying. “What did you want, sorry?”
“A word,” repeated Aimon. He watched her straighten up on the other side of the desk and added, “In the office, if you please.”
Leaira raised her eyebrows. “Oh, dear. That does sound ominous. Is there an error in the library accounts? Maths has never been my strong point – although Arin usually catches any mistakes.”
“An error of sorts, but not yours,” said Aimon. He gestured towards the door behind her. “If you will, Imai Modelen.”
She tidied the catalogue away and led him into the small office. “If you’ve started being formal again after all these weeks, it must be bad.”
Aimon shut the door. “Do you remember me saying I would find proof for you – about Delver’s involvement in that man’s death?”
Leaira sat on the chair. She did recall him talking about some unlikely rumours concerning the Governor and some civil servant who’d gone missing in North Eastern. “I think so?” Then she looked up sharply. “Wait, you’re not claiming you’ve found something?”
“Yes,” said Aimon, pulling a folded letter out of his jacket. “I told you it was true. And since you seem inclined to think he must be all right if he actually comes in here and reads books, I thought I’d better find out more.”
Leaira frowned up at him. “You’re not saying that he killed someone, are you? He’s a Regional Governor! He’d have to be stupid, and he’s certainly not that. Besides, if it’s that easy to uncover, the High Governor or someone would have got rid of him already.”
“Maybe,” said Aimon. “Maybe they weren’t looking in the right places, at the right things.”
“It’s all in the accounts, is it?”
Aimon pulled out another chair, positioning it at an angle to the desk beside her, and sat down. He unfolded the letter, pressed it smooth against the wood of the desk and let it lie between them.
Leaira put a hand on the paper, and wrinkled her brow. “Is this in code?”
“No, those are reference numbers,” said Aimon. “I told you there was a tale that one of our department had gone to North Eastern and never come back. His name was Lyus Olorne. He was found stabbed to death in a grove in Shara’s Gardens in Old Ralston two years ago on the 7th day of the 11th month, or the month of the Rainbird in North Eastern terms – Rosfallen Day, when they have their big annual ceremonial renewing of vows there.”
“The Governor stopped in the middle of the ceremony to stab someone? Right in the grounds of the shrine?”
Aimon held her gaze. “The ceremony that year was held up for nearly an hour for reasons unknown. My friend did some digging around the North Eastern Council copy records in the High Chambers Archive, and there’s also a costing for replacing the Governor’s robes on the same date, and also a payment to the Sharan shrine there for a further ritual of purification and penitence for the Governor, on the 7th.”
“Are you studying laundry bills?” said Leaira. “You know the Governor is quite seriously into the Powers and that sort of thing. I don’t think you can read too much into that.”
“You should be careful, that’s all. My friend went a little further and requested Delver’s public file from the archives. He was in the Emoyran army for a time when he was younger, and there was an odd omission in his military record –”
Leaira turned the paper over. “Your friend seems to have been willing to go to a lot of trouble.”
“They’re a colleague,” said Aimon. “Silvo Imalter. I’ve known them a good while. They’d heard the story about Olorne, too, and they enjoy poking around in the archives. Why should they invent any of this?”
“Imai Imalter is employed by a government that hates Marran Delver,” said Leaira. “As are you, but I won’t start suspecting you of anything just yet – apart from the spy business that you told us all about at the start.”
Aimon pulled the letter back, and straightened in his chair, back stiff. “I take your point. Would you like me to tell you about this or not bother?”
“Sorry. Go on. What was missing?”
“There was a blank page inserted into the file instead of the disciplinary and medical sheet. However, Silvo was intrigued, so they got another friend to request the High Council original, but it was the same there – except for a reference number pencilled onto it – MJ9-1317-28-0.”
“I may be a librarian, but I can’t immediately translate that, you know.”
“It’s the military archive reference. Classified, no doubt, but MJ9 covers military trials. 1317 should be the year. He was tried for something the government wants kept private so badly even they won’t to use it against him.”
“Or, since we don’t know what was on the blank page, it’s not something that could be used against him.” Leaira fingered the nearest edge of the paper. “Aimon, you can’t speculate from a lack of evidence. Ask Osmer, he’d lecture you for half a day on that kind of thing. If the Governor had been tried and found guilty of something terrible, he’d have been imprisoned or maybe even executed. Where’s the decade long gap in his file? There isn’t one!”
Aimon folded up the letter and held it out to her. “Just be wary of Delver. There is reason, that’s what I’m saying – too many things that don’t add up. I thought you didn’t like him anyway.”
“I don’t,” said Leaira. “Not really. I just don’t think there are any circumstances in which he’d actually murder someone during the middle of an important ceremony and on sacred ground. That’s what you’re implying, isn’t it? If he was abusing his position in the normal way, he wouldn’t be having bloody ceremonial robes replaced, he’d get someone else to deal with the problem.”
Aimon gave a short nod. “True, but I can’t think of an explanation I like, either. It seems to me he’s evaded justice once, possibly twice already.”
“I’ll read it properly and think about it,” she said. She kept her head down, busying herself tucking the letter away in her pocket, so that she didn’t have to look at Aimon while he talked about Marran Delver and evading justice. Her arrangement with him about Diessa hung over them. Leaira was willing to bet Aimon wouldn’t think very much of her behaviour, either.
“Don’t let anyone else see it, whatever you do. Especially not him.”
Leaira putted her jacket. “It won’t leave my possession until I give it back to you. I’m still not sure why you went to all this trouble, though.”
“I don’t trust Delver,” said Aimon. “I don’t like him, I don’t trust him – and he’s here for a reason. Whatever it is, it’s a mystery to everyone else, even his staff, but it seems to involve you, doesn’t it? I’m only sorry I couldn’t give you more. I hope it helps.”
Leaira nodded and rose as Aimon did, but he gestured for her to stay seated and found his own way out of the office. As the door closed behind him, Leaira sighed and leant her head against her hand.
The trouble was, she was already complicit in one of the Governor’s crimes – the one she’d asked him to commit. Diessa had disappeared, on her way over the border before anyone found she was missing. It had all grown so complicated. If the Governor was as bad as Aimon thought, then her instincts were wrong. If that was so, maybe for all she knew Diessa had stolen that file. Maybe Aimon was only trying to make her mistrust the Governor because that was what his employers wanted. She had been naïve to imagine she could escape politics by running as far away from home as possible and hiding in a library.
Aimon had papers and files and painstakingly copied facts that amounted to little and confused everything. Marran Delver refused to give her any facts at all – sometimes he was like an impenetrable grey fog in the shape of a man – but he understood about true-seeing and believed her word without any other proof, and when trouble had come, she’d run to him first before any of her friends at Starfall.
“I wish neither of them had ever come here,” she muttered, standing.
Aimon was right about one thing, though: Governor Delver had travelled to Starfall for a purpose, and she had no idea what it was. He’d never once said anything to make her think that it was something she’d like. She still had a box of his secrets, unopened down in the store. Something had tried to kill her the day they’d first heard he was on his way. What any of it added up she didn’t know, but something heavy settled uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach when she thought about it all.
A chilly draft stole into the office and shadows lengthened, pressing down on her. Between them, Starfall’s two official visitors had made everything familiar here seem suddenly terribly unsafe. Leaira shivered.
Story: Starfall
Colors: Nacre #19 (only for the initiated)
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti – 11 Years of Rainbowfic Part 9 (September Secrets)
Word Count: 1551
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mention of a murder in passing.
Notes: Starfall, 1337; Aimon Merner, Leaira Modelen. (Funnily enough, I was in the middle of drafting this out when the challenge was set, and it’s all about secrets.)
Summary: Aimon’s cross-referenced Governor Delver’s guilt. Leaira’s not impressed.
“May I have a word?”
Leaira lifted her head slowly, half her mind on the catalogue she’d been studying. “What did you want, sorry?”
“A word,” repeated Aimon. He watched her straighten up on the other side of the desk and added, “In the office, if you please.”
Leaira raised her eyebrows. “Oh, dear. That does sound ominous. Is there an error in the library accounts? Maths has never been my strong point – although Arin usually catches any mistakes.”
“An error of sorts, but not yours,” said Aimon. He gestured towards the door behind her. “If you will, Imai Modelen.”
She tidied the catalogue away and led him into the small office. “If you’ve started being formal again after all these weeks, it must be bad.”
Aimon shut the door. “Do you remember me saying I would find proof for you – about Delver’s involvement in that man’s death?”
Leaira sat on the chair. She did recall him talking about some unlikely rumours concerning the Governor and some civil servant who’d gone missing in North Eastern. “I think so?” Then she looked up sharply. “Wait, you’re not claiming you’ve found something?”
“Yes,” said Aimon, pulling a folded letter out of his jacket. “I told you it was true. And since you seem inclined to think he must be all right if he actually comes in here and reads books, I thought I’d better find out more.”
Leaira frowned up at him. “You’re not saying that he killed someone, are you? He’s a Regional Governor! He’d have to be stupid, and he’s certainly not that. Besides, if it’s that easy to uncover, the High Governor or someone would have got rid of him already.”
“Maybe,” said Aimon. “Maybe they weren’t looking in the right places, at the right things.”
“It’s all in the accounts, is it?”
Aimon pulled out another chair, positioning it at an angle to the desk beside her, and sat down. He unfolded the letter, pressed it smooth against the wood of the desk and let it lie between them.
Leaira put a hand on the paper, and wrinkled her brow. “Is this in code?”
“No, those are reference numbers,” said Aimon. “I told you there was a tale that one of our department had gone to North Eastern and never come back. His name was Lyus Olorne. He was found stabbed to death in a grove in Shara’s Gardens in Old Ralston two years ago on the 7th day of the 11th month, or the month of the Rainbird in North Eastern terms – Rosfallen Day, when they have their big annual ceremonial renewing of vows there.”
“The Governor stopped in the middle of the ceremony to stab someone? Right in the grounds of the shrine?”
Aimon held her gaze. “The ceremony that year was held up for nearly an hour for reasons unknown. My friend did some digging around the North Eastern Council copy records in the High Chambers Archive, and there’s also a costing for replacing the Governor’s robes on the same date, and also a payment to the Sharan shrine there for a further ritual of purification and penitence for the Governor, on the 7th.”
“Are you studying laundry bills?” said Leaira. “You know the Governor is quite seriously into the Powers and that sort of thing. I don’t think you can read too much into that.”
“You should be careful, that’s all. My friend went a little further and requested Delver’s public file from the archives. He was in the Emoyran army for a time when he was younger, and there was an odd omission in his military record –”
Leaira turned the paper over. “Your friend seems to have been willing to go to a lot of trouble.”
“They’re a colleague,” said Aimon. “Silvo Imalter. I’ve known them a good while. They’d heard the story about Olorne, too, and they enjoy poking around in the archives. Why should they invent any of this?”
“Imai Imalter is employed by a government that hates Marran Delver,” said Leaira. “As are you, but I won’t start suspecting you of anything just yet – apart from the spy business that you told us all about at the start.”
Aimon pulled the letter back, and straightened in his chair, back stiff. “I take your point. Would you like me to tell you about this or not bother?”
“Sorry. Go on. What was missing?”
“There was a blank page inserted into the file instead of the disciplinary and medical sheet. However, Silvo was intrigued, so they got another friend to request the High Council original, but it was the same there – except for a reference number pencilled onto it – MJ9-1317-28-0.”
“I may be a librarian, but I can’t immediately translate that, you know.”
“It’s the military archive reference. Classified, no doubt, but MJ9 covers military trials. 1317 should be the year. He was tried for something the government wants kept private so badly even they won’t to use it against him.”
“Or, since we don’t know what was on the blank page, it’s not something that could be used against him.” Leaira fingered the nearest edge of the paper. “Aimon, you can’t speculate from a lack of evidence. Ask Osmer, he’d lecture you for half a day on that kind of thing. If the Governor had been tried and found guilty of something terrible, he’d have been imprisoned or maybe even executed. Where’s the decade long gap in his file? There isn’t one!”
Aimon folded up the letter and held it out to her. “Just be wary of Delver. There is reason, that’s what I’m saying – too many things that don’t add up. I thought you didn’t like him anyway.”
“I don’t,” said Leaira. “Not really. I just don’t think there are any circumstances in which he’d actually murder someone during the middle of an important ceremony and on sacred ground. That’s what you’re implying, isn’t it? If he was abusing his position in the normal way, he wouldn’t be having bloody ceremonial robes replaced, he’d get someone else to deal with the problem.”
Aimon gave a short nod. “True, but I can’t think of an explanation I like, either. It seems to me he’s evaded justice once, possibly twice already.”
“I’ll read it properly and think about it,” she said. She kept her head down, busying herself tucking the letter away in her pocket, so that she didn’t have to look at Aimon while he talked about Marran Delver and evading justice. Her arrangement with him about Diessa hung over them. Leaira was willing to bet Aimon wouldn’t think very much of her behaviour, either.
“Don’t let anyone else see it, whatever you do. Especially not him.”
Leaira putted her jacket. “It won’t leave my possession until I give it back to you. I’m still not sure why you went to all this trouble, though.”
“I don’t trust Delver,” said Aimon. “I don’t like him, I don’t trust him – and he’s here for a reason. Whatever it is, it’s a mystery to everyone else, even his staff, but it seems to involve you, doesn’t it? I’m only sorry I couldn’t give you more. I hope it helps.”
Leaira nodded and rose as Aimon did, but he gestured for her to stay seated and found his own way out of the office. As the door closed behind him, Leaira sighed and leant her head against her hand.
The trouble was, she was already complicit in one of the Governor’s crimes – the one she’d asked him to commit. Diessa had disappeared, on her way over the border before anyone found she was missing. It had all grown so complicated. If the Governor was as bad as Aimon thought, then her instincts were wrong. If that was so, maybe for all she knew Diessa had stolen that file. Maybe Aimon was only trying to make her mistrust the Governor because that was what his employers wanted. She had been naïve to imagine she could escape politics by running as far away from home as possible and hiding in a library.
Aimon had papers and files and painstakingly copied facts that amounted to little and confused everything. Marran Delver refused to give her any facts at all – sometimes he was like an impenetrable grey fog in the shape of a man – but he understood about true-seeing and believed her word without any other proof, and when trouble had come, she’d run to him first before any of her friends at Starfall.
“I wish neither of them had ever come here,” she muttered, standing.
Aimon was right about one thing, though: Governor Delver had travelled to Starfall for a purpose, and she had no idea what it was. He’d never once said anything to make her think that it was something she’d like. She still had a box of his secrets, unopened down in the store. Something had tried to kill her the day they’d first heard he was on his way. What any of it added up she didn’t know, but something heavy settled uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach when she thought about it all.
A chilly draft stole into the office and shadows lengthened, pressing down on her. Between them, Starfall’s two official visitors had made everything familiar here seem suddenly terribly unsafe. Leaira shivered.
no subject
Here's your four novelty beads for September Secrets!
1. slice
2. meteorite
3. https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/564x/b6/f7/37/b6f7376897c2aa26d84761929cdd8d07.jpg
4. http://25.media.tumblr.com/5d99fcf8acd7a463fc65bc6969266117/tumblr_mq89z6pNKE1rke8ufo2_500.gif
no subject
no subject
And, weirdly, I'm reading this on the 8th day of the 11th month!
Anyway. Mystery! Secrets! Excitement!
no subject
Ahaha, I had no idea! I accidentally posted it super-appropriately. And also put an important festival on your birthday. (Well. Not because the months don't actually correspond directly to ours and I'd have to check my big calendar notes again to work out which earth day it in fact is, but still *hand waves grandly*)
Anyway. Mystery! Secrets! Excitement!
Paperwork! XD
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Ugh! to paperwork!
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My kind of character! <3 This was great, very intriguing!
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LOL, thank you! And, I know, poor off-screen archives-loving guy, doing all this research and here's Leaira showing a shocking lack of librarian-archivist solidarity in response to it all. *shakes head at her*