Open [SWI] Tying up the ends

[Fallon]

5th Spring 517 AV
Morning

There was the quiet, ever present shuffling of papers in the office. The Spring light cut through the large windows, lightening the room and sending the shadows hugging to its furnishings. The inspector however sat at her desk, the monotonous task of organising her notes into some semblance of order. Beside her on a smaller, lower table a hot kettle stood, steam pouring from its spout and the cup next to it waiting to be filled. A long day was ahead of her. It was one, in its most simplest form, filled work. She was hired, and with her hiring came the request of formulating and creating documents - evidence of what she had achieved in relation to the case.

There was times when cases over lapped, others that were accidentally brought together. And then there was the miscellaneous scraps, letters and requests for her attendance. She was unsure if that was such a good thing or not, her eyes briefly swivelling to the letter from the university. It was a compliment, in some regards, but it also served as a niggling warning sign. They knew her name, meaning who else did?

Her mind flickered briefly to the memories of Sunberth and the Scars, before she forcibly snuffed such thoughts out. Remember them, but do not dwell on them - less they swallow you whole.

For a while, she continued separating her notes. Cases tied to the Waveguard and the law were placed on one side of the desk, those of a more personal nature to the other. She had decided that it would be best for her to ensure that whatever was left went where they belonged. The law requires its references, and on the chance some form of court was held they would require all the evidence possible to reign down judgement. The others would go to those that had placed in the request to begin with, from there they could do with them what they will.

Today, however, she imagined would be relatively quiet. It was no secret that she was not taking on any other jobs, if anything it was a blessing. It allowed her time to tie up any loose ends she had with minimum disturbance.

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

As Leth goes to rest and Syna raises so does Salara, finally able to move about without a dull throb thumping in her head that had lingered for the last four days. It had taken two days before her sight had stopped blurring to double yet she still experienced dizzy spells at odd moments. And apparently, at the time Salara was being brained by a simple maid with a dreadfully heavy hand and a thick crystal decanter, Maid Madiria had been mending a garishly colored coat for the Falconer lord. The sew-happy wench must have chosen to not change the thread as Salara now carried more than ‘…a simple tiny stitch or two…’ of purple stitches – PURPLE – along her hairline like a trail of angry exotic pastel spiders. Would that she had remained ignorant of her colorful state, having no mirrors to hand, but she had finally asked meaning for the subtle double takes, intentionally avoided or imperceptibly peeking looks she’d received these days past. Today she would return to Scarred Wolf Investigations to present her findings and inferences to Inspector Fallon. She felt confident that she’d been on a plausible track and had followed the trail as intended even if not all had went as planned. But she’d learned long ago that it rarely ever did anyway. In the end it was all-good, she supposed, that she had gotten out of it without a crushed skull albeit not for a lack of trying. Walking through the streets of Old Quarter she organizes her thoughts for what seemed the hundredth time hoping to stay on top of the game. She’d rehearsed, considered, and planned for this conversation knowing that ultimately she would be at the mercy of the Inspector. Hopefully she will have done enough to at least earn a reference or two of potential patrons. At first she thought Lord Falconer would be a great opportunity; but not so much now, as her head twinges at an overly heavy foot fall upon cobblestones reminding her to step more lightly. Besides the Falconers provided patronage to artists of which she certainly was not. Melroy Manor appealed to her with their background and support in trade. She’d read the estate was settled among vast fertile fields called the Gardens surrounded by massive stone walls – the perfect setting for hunting crop-destroying varmints. Perhaps they would consider hiring her as a hunter? The family was known for living to serve the people of Zeltiva; so it seemed a natural fit with her having turned a new leaf to doing good for others rather than just herself. To be more presentable she would, of course, have to become much more acquainted with the myriad of Gods and Goddesses the Melroys’ followed. But curiously, the idea of becoming better acquainted with the deities of Autumn, harvests, the sun, rivers and Spring might not be so bad. Surely such nature-grounded powers wouldn’t have a history of infanticide and genocide, as did Eyris? *** As Fallon sorts through documentation and ties up loose ends she should notice a scratch at her door followed perhaps too-quickly by an attempt to try the handle. A brief hesitation before the door opens could be someone considering the implications of finding it unlocked, taking a moment to look around in case of being seen, or simply something all together innocent. Finally swinging the door open regardless of invitation, it was unlocked after all, Salara steps into the office and, with the slightest of off-balanced wobbling, walks up to the desk with a roll of parchment in one hand and several letters that she hands directly to Fallon, “Good morning, Inspector. You had letters in your basket outside the door.” No guile, guilt, or evidence of anything untoward lingers in her demeanor other than an innocent effort to save Fallon the trip; and in her tone, a touch of anticipation to share the outcomes of her research adventure perchance to fill in a few gaps of information.

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

With all her efforts coming to a head, Salara’s eagerness to finally share what she’d found and see what Fallon thought was too much for her to wait for a proper welcome from the Inspector. After only ticks of standing she helps herself to a client chair, leans forward intently, and blurts out, “I believe Zachiel Eyvino is or was an Alvina of Eyris. I think the sporadic times he spent in Zeltiva were overshadowed by an effort to escape the notice of the goddess and her followers to prevent his execution. Apparently in the previous age, campaigns were held to destroy any non-gifted children to ensure the magical bloodline remained strong and pure and I think this may still be happening to this day! Zachiel may very well be an un-gifted son of the Goddess of Knowledge.” Leaning back in a posture hinting of failure she concludes, “Although I found documentation supporting this, I have been unable to locate the original source to confirm it,” absentmindedly her hand lifts to brush against the stitches of her forehead before she continues, “If this IS true, I haven’t yet determined why he continued returning to Zeltiva when danger was eminent with the goddess herself walking these streets.” As Fallon considers her outburst of information, Salara looks around the room noting the things that might have clued her in on the Inspector’s gender. The office wasn’t as neatly put together as it had been because things were being re-organized and packed away. Surely some men could be as organized and fastidious; but still the place felt as if it had more of a woman’s touch than a man’s, all the way down to a steaming kettle wafting smells of tea. Her perusal of the SWI office moved to a surreptitious examination of Fallon herself for female idiosyncrasies. It seemed obvious to her now, but she was already somewhat aware of the Inspector’s talent for diversion. Besides, people saw what they expected to see and so would likely assume, as had she, that this type of business would be run by a man. As Salara listened to Fallon's response, something more niggled in the back of her mind about the Inspector but she just couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was.

[Fallon]

There was a light scratching of quill upon paper for a moment, a quiet dating of a tag before Fallon put it to one side. Her ears gave a small twitch to the corridor outside, eyes coming to small narrows as she continued her desk work. The source made itself known in due time, the click and treading of feet across the ground causing a small lift of eyes. Lowering the quill, she rubbed the scaring on her right hand, haphazardly massaging into it. The fingers flexed, a moment of stiffness taking over causing only the smallest of glances down before she inevitably withdrew. The left found the gloves neatly placed upon the side of the desk - the right taking the letters. With a pull on of the gloves, she began the slow process of reading the hand writing upon them. The silence continued, lasted, her brow creasing as she noted a more distinctly illegible one, before at last remembering the presence of Salara.

"Thank you. Though, I think you are not here for delivering letters...?" she raised a single eyebrow, barely having any time to gesture to the chair in question before the woman promptly sat in it. What came next however was the last thing she expected. The moment she started Fallon had moved across the room, legs animated to firmly slam the door shut. By the time the word Eyvino was finished the door had been locked. It was there she paused eyes boring into the wood and the ears twitching.

Her fingers flexed and tensed around the handle, back straightening as she felt every nerve race forwards. Adrenal, anticipation, excitement? The neutral expression she normally wore twitched, cracking around the edges. With her back to Salara she could hear the rising pulse begin to gather in her ears, loud as those first few words repeated loudly in her head. Her mind raced briefly, mentally locating the letter from her father as being on her desk - stuffed into her journal - the tracing of sweat accumulating on her palm.

Panic. Fear. Dread.

She had a feeling that sunk in her that Salara knew too much.

"You mean the Valterrian?" The inspector questioned, slowly. She could feel the thoughts gathering in her head. Pushing herself away from the door, her fingers pinched upon the bridge of her nose, brow creased. Her limbs felt heavy, the chair behind the desk being far too welcoming. Elbows met the surface, and she hunched herself over, "That was... centuries ago? The end of the world you could argue. I think people have much more important things to worry about beyond..."

It was not her subject of expertise, all her logic here was being built upon presumption that people simply had to survive. They had bigger priorities, like survival. Her mind flickered to the notion of Eyris herself, the lykata beneath the glove twitching. No, Eyris was not that sort of god. Far from the sort of simple murder of her kin. Intelligent and manipulative, there was no doubt - but essentially murder? It made no sense for the Goddess of Wisdom.

Besides, Fallon's eyes flickered firstly to her left hand and then her journal, Eyris knows all. And if what Salara says is true about Zachiel... then why was I not struck down where I was all those years ago?

Fallon turned to the kettle and offered an empty cup, "Tea?

The inspector poured regardless, placing the filled cup firmly on the client side of the desk - ready to be taken. It allowed her a momentary blip to gather her thoughts into something much more manageable, "So, let's start with the sources you do have and where you got them from. Do bear in mind history is not my strong point. Magical bloodline? What one is this you speak of? Where did you learn about this?"

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

Salara started half out of her chair at Fallon’s unexpected motion and had felt a hint of danger as the door was locked. Her eyes darted quickly to calculate another exit – the second story window - but the Inspector’s forward momentum had stilled. Nope. That wasn’t a reaction she had rehearsed, she thought warily. The atmosphere was intense to say the least. At one point cold goose-flesh had pimpled her arms feeling as if having just avoided something bad… The tension didn’t break until she was offered a cup of tea. And quite suddenly such a mundane act was just exactly what she needed. Nodding gratitude she reaches for the cup just as it hit the table and takes a sip watching Fallon over the brim. Setting her cup upon the desk, she unrolls several leafs of parchment with clean clear writing in various shades of ink. Tracing her right index finger from top to bottom as her left hand holds the pages flat she rolls her eyes across the first facts and begins. “In the census registry at City Hall I found entries listed for Zachiel Eyvino from Spring 493 AV and Spring 496 AV, which you provided. I just happened to stumble across several entries through Spring 510 AV of a goddess, Eyris. I also looked up several prestigious houses that he may have been acquainted with.” She didn’t mention taking a peek into Fallon’s information. That niggle, a little feeling in her brain that she was missing something caused her to pause with a slight shake of her head before continuing. “I found most of the information at the Library trying to learn more about the houses. On a whim I just happened to mention ‘Eyvino’ and a student librarian recognized the surname from a paper on Eyris she had completed for a religion class. She even showed me her paper where Eyvino was listed with a row of names within the Goddess’s genealogy and it mentioned that these individuals were not magically endowed. I looked through every book she could bring me and although I found every other reference I couldn’t find the volume for the last list. That’s when I learned about the Alvina and Eyris’s grandchildren, the Araka.” Taking a moment for another sip of tea she shifts to the next page of her notes. “It was in the Nymkarta Dynasty, not the Valterrian, that the mysteries were mentioned. Not only was it centuries ago, but it was the earliest centuries of that dynasty. They tried to keep magical blood as strong as possible by arranging marriages between the most powerful wizards. But here’s the dreadful part,” she leans over the parchment and her voice drops a shade as she reads, “’There is also a large number of young Nymkarta children whose birth is recorded in historical documents,’” she looks up raising her eyebrow pointedly causing her pastel spiders to stray from their strait and narrow path, “but who seem to mysteriously disappear in their early childhood with no reasonable account of their fate.” Looking down she finishes the quote, “’It is speculated that the dynasty culled its weaker members in order to keep the blood pure and strong Through The Millennia.’" "So I put two and two together that it might explain the rarity of naming the less-gifted in references and might explain why I couldn’t find the original source. Had it been taken from the library to keep these people safe or hunt them down? Would Eyris walk Zeltiva to destroy her less-gifted progeny? Was this the clue behind the enigmatic Zachiel? I went to Falconer Manor to visit their library, they are strong followers of Eyris, to see if I could find the last volume of genealogy; but,” her tone goes dry, “things didn’t really go well there.” She concludes by finally responding to Fallon’s previous comment about people having more important things to worry about. “Apparently the goddess is still active in people’s lives today. Time is meaningless for the divine so why would she think any differently now than back-in-the-day other than to be more cautious in hiding such terrible deeds?”

[Fallon]

"The Valterrian, as in The Valterrian that caused the end of the old word however many hundreds of years ago in a fiery catastrophe," she paused, eyes turning down to her cup with thought. It allowed a point for her to focus upon in the upcoming storm, "The reason we have all sorts of scary nightmarish creatures out in the wilderness while most of us cling to civilisation and hide behind our walls." She exhaled, slowly processing the other information in her head. It would have been information so easily made up on a whim, a flight of fancy to capture the imagination. Still, she felt as if she had to draw a firm line in the sand now on the subject of Eyris.

"Eyris, is not a cold blooded, psychopath who commits murder in the name of blood. I know Eyris. Such statements are ill suited and I would politely request you do not accuse her of being such ever again," Fallon's voice had become ice, the green-blue orbs turning upwards to focus and bore upon Salara. She would not budge on the subject and based on the little pieces of information she knew she began her cold, calculated dissection, "If I give you a sword, is it then my will that you go out and kill in my name? No. That onus is on you and you alone to decide. The same goes for blood. Perhaps they indeed if... whoever this supposed research belongs to did carry Eyris blood, then there comes a point where they are no longer her responsibility. You said millennia correct? Then that would be tens of generations. Besides, if she truly wanted such then why is she not out there now being some goddess queen like... well, Morwen. It does not make sense and I will not accept such as fact until hard evidence is provided."

Inhaling, Fallon took a sip of her tea. Araka was not a word she had heard of before, but she quietly tucked it away in the back of her mind. The rest she merely watched Salara go through the motions, spouting words and questioning everything without a second thought. It was only once she was done that Fallon began to speak.

"For Eyris is wisdom, knowledge. An encourager of learning and discovering of history. It would be incredibly short sighted of her to snuff out such potential simply on the basis of magical capability. No, she would encourage any and all to seek, to face the world and overcome ignorance regardless of skill... Fallon exhaled, "No, this thinning of weak blood would be the work of mortals and their shallow mindset in their cravings for perfection."

Besides, if what she speaks of is true then I would like to know what these documents are, or how she managed to obtain something so old. Or how something so old was recorded for so long without falling apart, her eyes shifted from the rim of her cup then, focusing upon her veins and coming to narrows, Besides... that information is... disturbing. I cannot accept it as truth. It was far too easily gathered. It cannot be true.

"You seem informed on this dynasty either way. Something I know very little about, so any information you do give me I will have to take with a pinch of salt," another, smaller slurp of tea. It was something that allowed her enough pause to pick out her next move, "So, let us focus on the relationship of Eyris and Zachiel Eyvino... I will go out on a limb here, perhaps he was a follower? Devote and not a target for murder?" Fallon shrugged, "I mean, pure speculation here, but if he had ties with the Falconer and appeared here when you said he did...?"

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

She graciously concedes Fallon’s emphatic request with a dip of her chin but clarifies, “Before this time I had little to no knowledge of Eyris so I have no faith to believe one way or the other. I have simply been recording what I have found. Unless more solid evidence turns up, I’m inclined to prefer she is innocent and can accept that this written documentation has led me to infer only a single scenario. Whatever happened all those years ago cannot be examined. But it would be all the better if we can find proof clearing our minds to know that this barbarism is not true of Eyris, at least not in this day and age.” Salara shudders as if chilled, not comfortable at all with the idea of a genocidal immortal walking the streets today as being true. She wanted to believe as Fallon did. “Do you give credence to government records housed in City Hall? I’m sure not all books at the library speak truth. To my mind each one is based on the author’s perception. At what point does one use the written word to uphold truth or distort it?” Her eyes linger over Fallon’s reports and evidence in point of fact. “This information seems to speak truthfully by admitting only ancient speculation of this claim of bloodshed at her hands. It could be as likely every deity has its cult, sycophants if you will, who may interpret their worship incorrectly and go rogue to ‘enact her word’ to the devastation of others as well as her reputation." “As far as genealogy, I don’t feel we can disprove this student’s paper naming Eyvino a child of the goddess until/unless the original source of the student’s paper is found. It seems more than coincidence that such entry was a product of what – a student’s misspelling? Along side the more reliable documentation from City Hall reporting that Zachiel and Eyris may have walked the streets of Zeltiva together. So we should not entirely discharge the thought that he is Alvina." Fallon’s proposition of another possibility for consideration focuses her mind accordingly. “It seems we agree that whatever connection is between them, regardless of what the mysteries or birth records indicate, it is a lead worth following up on. So, if he was not a target but a follower or Devote? I can only say the lore suggests that there is no way to openly tell Eyris’s kin without direct knowledge of linage other than through their actions and the marks they leave upon the world. I’m uncertain of any way to tell a follower but for similar actions and perhaps identification of their Gnosis." In a tick of thought her gaze briefly skims the Inspector’s gloved hands as she reaches for a quill to place a mark on her parchment. ‘…if he had ties with the Falconer and appeared here when you said he did...?’ Had she been feline her ears would have perked noticeably; fortunately her current expression didn’t change. Had Fallon just given her the answer to all the damnable effort she had made to find his connection with a prestigious house? Eyvino and Lord Falconer himself to be precise. She marked a little check of truth beside the question written in her notes. Oh, how she wished she had been granted audience with the manor lord. Such confirmation seemed to make the connection between the pair all the stronger and she says so almost conspiratorially, “That would make sense! The Falconers believe Eyris is the supreme goddess and through her the answers to all of life’s mysteries can be found, so any connection might be known by Falconer. Maybe he could tell us where either Zachiel or Eyris is or if they actually did meet? Surely the Falconers wouldn’t be occultists…. Could there be a way to figure out why Zachiel was here so sporatically?” A hand rises to rub away the pain starting to thump below her stitches; she didn’t want to admit that after all these days everything was beginning to jumble together. They were missing something, she just knew it. And why was this so important to the Inspector? Not wanting to give up she scans her notes yet again for anything they hadn’t yet discussed. Her eyes settle on the physical description she’d made from Tranaris Johnson’s sketch of Zachiel Eyvino. After days of constant consideration the representation seemed so familiar, as if she had known him herself…. Her head tilts curiously to one side and then the next before her eyes widen alarmingly. Looking up, she catches Fallon’s gaze. “You’re his daughter!” And then she whispers in near-disbelief with a hint of awe, “Araka.”

[Fallon]

She was transfixed upon the idea of a blood connection between the pair. Instead Fallon chose to ignore it, focusing on the other details. It was unlikely whatever she was spouting was the case, it had to be. What preposterous fantasies lived through her head derived from a mere season of research. No, it was nothing more than fiction - it was the only logic she deemed so without any true, hard evidence before her. After all, what sort of documentation would be so readily accessible where Fallon herself had no method of getting to such? Perhaps, Zeltiva did indeed hold a complex and in-depth census of families within the city; but she doubted it held the accuracy of anything solid.

"I would discard the thought of being an Alvina most certainly from your mind," her eyes narrowed then, cold and unmoving, "I think, regardless, his presence would have been truly noted if that was the case. And, by your logic even you said yourself there is no direct way of knowing. Neigh, I would discard such thoughts of fancy in a flash and tie it to something much more substantial and likely." Fallon turned her head away then, gaze to the window in thought as she considered a way to explain herself, "Kennable Wright is a name of importance in Zeltiva, and her legacy lives on in her family and library... who would not want to claim such a name and hang onto the value as being the first to circumnavigate the continent?" The inspector's eyes slid back then, "I would apply the same thought process. See it as a fanciful name that this man took on. Or perhaps a mere act of circumstance. After all, what kind of fool would want to draw attention to themselves with such a heritage?"

Fallon let the question hang there. Let it sink in and the weigh be truly known. The thought of the letter prickled in her consciousness, but she kept the neutral mask in face. The few cracks that were there before gradually began to fill and be smoothed over by professionalism, "Why, perhaps even the original source could be the mystery itself - planted there to seem like a more than average individual to snatch attention of the many. Declaring yourself a child of the gods is one way to seem all powerful and to make many a man tremble in his boots, no?"

Me? Araka? No. All lies.

It was the declaration however from Salara that caused the inspector to pause. Her fingers drummed upon the surface of the desk, filling the silence that consumed. There was a small lift of her own cup, a slurp as she let the bitter taste swirl around her mouth. A small blip of time to allow her to calculate her next move sufficiently. She knew her blood, or at least the smatterings of it from Eygptus. And it was such a thought that lead her on in the end.

A wolfish curl of the lips sprouted, "Cute. But no. I am first a Murdock, then a Skylar. This Eyvino is merely a subject of interest."

Nothing but poison on her tongue, but she swallowed it regardless. In honesty she was still sceptical about the entire ordeal, perhaps the letter in question was for a different Fallon, another lonely girl lost in the world and looking for her father. The inspector merely speculated on such privately in the confines of her mind. Draining the last of her cup, she gave it a long hard frown before moving to fill it once more. A silent offer of a top up to her guest, before she smoothed down her papers once more. It was with such that she looked to Salara with one of feigned amusement, "So. Fantasies and pure speculation aside with no real evidence to prove it... well. What do you have Salara?"

The word Araka made her feel ill. The stomach clenching, twisting and knotting. Tight, her fingers drummed in a steady rhythm. She looked at it analytically, "It is clear we have the same line of thought that there is some form of unknown connection between the Falconers and this Zachiel. But even I have discovered such with very little effort. Though, followers of Eyris? That would make sense with their large library resource and private collection..." she drifted off and chose to fill in the gap, "They were clients for an investigation over a year ago. Little break in and tracking down. Nothing too hard. I digress. You have evidence he was in Zeltiva in a more recent time? Interesting..."

[Salara Kel'Halavath]

Salara was beginning to feel deflated with doubt instilled by Fallon’s refusal to consider the leads she had followed. Although she tried to fight it, the Inspector belittling her honest effort was causing her to become a bit vexed. The edges of her mouth tighten as her lips press closed upon ill-considered responses. In an effort to fight her irritation she tried telling herself that perhaps her ideas of how to obtain information were incorrect. How did one start finding real evidence but by beginning with research? Wasn’t one piece of information supposed to lead to the next until plausible scenarios were developed? When there was nothing more, wasn’t any lead worthy of further investigation without immediately ruling it out? Apparently she had missed the mark. Her thoughts turned bitter at realizing what a supreme waste of time this could turn out to be when she should have already been working to save for next season’s living expenses. She had been tasked with finding information on Zachiel Eyvino that Fallon may or may not already know. It seemed unlikely that Fallon would reveal anything further but had Salara gotten anything right? And then Fallon said, ’Cute.’ That response had her gripping the seat of her chair below the level of the desk before consciously forcing her fingers to ease loose. Ok fine she thinks, teeth grinding slightly, so she had jumped to a wrong conclusion. She reminded herself that most people knew where they came from and who their parents were. Fallon’s denial of a blood relationship with Eyvino was emphatic and perhaps a long shot on her part to suggest, as it was the only thing of true speculation not based on at least some written word. Determined to get something out of this effort she finally responds unable to suppress a tone edged with defense. “If beginning with government records and local lore isn’t the first step then what is? Where should I have begun with nothing more than a name and date to go by? Perhaps my attempting to come by information honestly wasn’t the right start? I can’t think of any lawful way to do so but by seeking and speaking to those willing to divulge their knowledge in person or parchment. My attempt to access Falconer’s library did not get me expelled from the estate. The cards just did not fall right that day; but the opportunity is still there. For all I know all the proof is hidden behind Falconer’s library doors or the windows to his mind. Even so, would you find it any more convincing? Truly what type of evidence would you find acceptable? At least I tried to follow the leads and put it all together for a plausible, if improbable, solution. Isn’t investigation about eliminating the impossible?” She reaches for the newly topped cup with a soft snort, amused that she could feel so aggravated and still sit here sipping tea. “What more do you want? I may be foolish at times but I am no fool. Speaking of my background and abilities to you in confidence is one thing. I could have employed less honest ways and perhaps found facts more to your liking; but at this point the chance of being caught and you speaking against me, as you’ve already insinuated possibility to, are not worth the risk of losing my freedom. It is said, ‘the greater the risk the greater the reward’; but not I think, when it is my risk and your reward. A simple patron reference is not worth it. So fact or fiction, perception dependent, is all I can offer with the little information and support provided me.”

[Fallon]

A reaction was something the inspector could work with. Plucked and pulled strings, ensnaring the target with ease and forcing a direction. Anger was tied to other emotions. It caused impulse and knee jerk reactions, stimulated or killed the mind. The later was the unfavourable, it left the individual to surrender and give up. The former showed growth, a willingness to learn and improve. Her lips kept the small curl to them, but her throat hummed with thought.

Now, she thought, her gaze focusing on Salara truly, Which way will you fall?

The grip on the chair, the small twists of expression. She was beginning to become frustrated. She could almost imagine the thoughts going through the head of the woman before her. Panic, worry, apprehension. A sense of failure. She was a novice, what did she expect? To get everything right on the first attempt? Such thought process was naive. Surely she had to realise that much.

"I do not deny such," Fallon looked at the woman from beneath her brow. She chose to push aside the idea of Araka for now and to focus on the immediate, "Records are always good, and records should always be followed. They are, after all, hard proof." It was at that point a Fallon stood, plucking up one of her smaller note books that she used for recording client details on. She picked a page at random and presented it to Salara in an act of presentation, "A name and date reveals one thing, but creates only a narrow window in which to peer through." Her hand moved to the rest of the content then, "Other details are needed and can be easily obtained. For example, where were they staying? Immediate others? How did they come into the city? Did they work? If so, where? When did they leave? Age, life style..."

Fallon withdrew the book and snapped it shut. With it quickly returned she continued, "Perhaps I am being too bold here, but it sounds as if you jumped in too early without following your own leads. After all, who suggested the Falconers?"

The inspector leaned against her desk now, the stiff right hand gently flexing in her glove. She uttered a small chuckle to the last statement, "Being an investigator is all about willingness to obtain information in one that is suitable to the price provided. No matter the brush you paint it, I am indeed a mercenary. Though while I work with blades, my true skills for hire are instead information. We are, for all intents and purposes, little more than spies with additional legalities."

She shrugged, it was all matter of fact to her, "Yet, you agreed to the price. And the price of a word is always... tenuous at best. Such goes both ways. As for lawful ways... well, being the law most definitely helps." Clearing her throat she pulled down the curls of her lips and placed her expression behind a mask once more, "So, you want a patron? Tell me Salara, how will you prove yourself as a worthy asset to them? How do you want to serve them? Do you wish for the protection of just the one, or of many? Do you wish to be seen as an accepted and respected member of society or as a ghost? Do you wish to be lead and pressed under boot of a superior? Or do you wish to earn your way up and out to lead? Not just for yourself, but for those around you, your employer, your neighbours, your society, your home."