Murder at the Cosmopolitan
Part 2. Gaston's Story
Thaumont 6, Outside the Cosmopolitan Theatre.
Gaston du Lac took another swig from his champagne bottle and fell dead drunk on the alley behind the Cosmopolitan Theatre—or so it seemed.
Gaston, his body collapsed in the half-shadow, had strategically chosen the spot that gave him a clear view of the backdoor to the Cosmopolitan. From his vantage point, he could also keep an eye on at least three other persons watching the backstage door.
Two of these three persons Gaston recognized and knew. The first belonged to the Beggar’s Court, a puny cutpurse hoping to get lucky on this gala night of The Doom of Alphatia, the latest social extravaganza for the moneyed Glantrians.
The second was a freelance thief who was wanted by Glantri City’s thief guild, The Fellowship of the Pouch. He and Gaston had met before on occasion, and tonight, when they came face to face, their eyes locked in sinister recognition. If the maverick had read Gaston’s mind—which he probably did, as he is known to carry at least one mind-reading magical item—he would have known that Gaston could easily sell the information of his presence to the Fellowship of the Pouch (Such is the way of the Paparazzi Glantri!). That is probably why the thief made himself scarce at that moment.
There was a third figure, not as concealed as the others, but unfamiliar to Gaston. The young girl—or elf maiden—had arrived by gondola, ferried by an illusionary gondolier who made no paddling sounds and who faded out of existence when the gondola stopped. The lady stayed in the gondola floating in the canal alongside the alleyway, as she bided her time watching the backstage door.
The stillness of the alley was disturbed when a boom of operatic music escaped from the backdoor that momentarily opened to allow a single well-dressed young man to step out.
Even with his face buried in the cobblestones and the shadows surrounding the alley, Gaston immediately recognized the young man to be Prince Ralindi Virayana, the new Prince of Krondahar.
The Prince gingerly stepped into the waiting gondola, and his figure merged with the silhouette of the anticipant maiden and the surrounding shadows. The gondola was rowed away by the magical boatman, but this time, not in silence. It took little effort for a lecherous mind such as Gaston’s to deduce what would cause the sounds of the rocking and splashing of the gondola.
Gaston let his mind wander with lustful thoughts, until his attention was abruptly drawn to the backstage entrance again. A hulking man had stepped out and almost immediately stepped into the shadows of the alleyway. The man moved so quickly that Gaston did not catch anything, save a fleeting glance of blue. Gaston suspected some form of hasting magic at work.
Gaston was still trying to interpret what he had just seen, when suddenly he heard a loud splash (not from the gondola), like a large object entering the water. Almost immediately, a figure stepped up to the backstage door. This time, Gaston caught a clear glance of the man and his face.
It might have been the same man who had just exited, for he was dressed in the same garish shade of blue. Gaston noted that the man was less bulky and hulking this time, and the designs on his robes were clearly visible, showing gaudy details of thunderbolts emerging from clouds in the typical Alphatian style.
Gaston was not quite sure what he saw next. Perhaps it was the play of light and shadow. Perhaps it was the hasting magic. Perhaps it was the champagne. For a brief moment, the man turned his face into the light, and Gaston caught a glimpse of a horrible face that shook him to the bone.
The man had the face of evil—not the everyday face of the evil personages in Glantri, who were commonplace enough (such as Prince Morphail of Boldavia or Countess Sinaria Verlien)—but the fiendish face of a villain of the utmost depravity. His features were exaggerated and highlighted by the light and shadow: a devilish brow, large demonic eyes, and an enlarged mouth with a baneful sneer.
But what terrified Gaston most of all, was that he recognized the man, a man who was believed to be dead, and recently rumored to have returned from the grave. It was Volospin Aendyr, the Prince of Blackhill!
