Reckham---home for the soulless

Down the narrow path of Reckham, wilting trees are hovering over the passersby, staring closely at their every move, watching quietly. It was a silent night, not even the wind is sounding, not even the wild boars are howling, the night seemed as though it is… not alive. 

Reckham town is the home for the deceased, located right at the borders between Darcastle city and Lightmanor city. Every unidentified dead body will be sent here to be put at rest, or so it seemed. 
Two hooded man, braved the uneven path on the land of the deceased, which brought them straight to the heart of the heartless, the infamous grave of the two cities. 

“Oh dear lord,” under the hood, Ryan Dyke, a charming blonde lad mumbled with a playful grin, “the damp weather is killing me.” 
“There master,” the other hooded man, his butler, pointed ahead towards a cathedral looking building, “we are to arrive swiftly.” 

Under the dim lighting of the gloomy evening, the cathedral looked like a huge tomb itself. The wilted tress did not cease to frame the way towards the cathedral, and it continued on until the trail is out of sight. “I wonder,” Ryan mused aloud, “Who went through the trouble to plant those dead trees?” 
“Perhaps they weren’t dead when they were planted,” the butler replied without a hint of emotion, and Ryan laughed out loud, “Impossible, I am absolutely sure that they were dead before planted.” 

Even though the master sounded as though he was joking, but knowing his master, he knows that it was not a jest. 
As they approached the cathedral, they noticed that the walls of the cathedral is covered unevenly with a thin layer of blackened moss, “it seems like someone had been trying to burn down to moss issue,” Ryan Dyke touched the moss coated wall, “a little too eccentric if you ask me.” 

The butler paid little attention to his master now, and went on ahead to the pair of brass gargoyles door knocker. He studied the careful crafted pair of terrifying creature, every curve of it is very well refined, definitely the handiwork of a skillful craftsman. He raised his gloved hand and held the knockers lightly, with a few pushes; he created a rhythmic knock on the wooden door.

Ryan stood by his butler and watched as the butler played another short but rhythmic knock on the wooden door, then he lightly whispered to the butler, “I think ringing the bell would be much more effective.” 
The butler’s face reddened in chagrin, “my apologies, I was too taken in by the door knockers.” Then he quickly reached for a long rope, which he had just noticed, and pulled on it, causing the chiming of several bells in the cathedral. 

“You should have noticed the rope, especially when there are no scratch marks behind the knockers,” the master said with a smile, but the butler took his words by heart. “Master is right, I need to strengthen my observation skill,” he thought to himself. 

They were left waiting at the door in the chilly weather for several minutes more, then, some noises of behind the large wooden door is heard. Suddenly, a piece of small rectangular metal on eye level was moved aside, a pair of dark brown eyes looked out from the gap cautiously, “What business do ya ‘ave ‘ere?” 
“Good evening, sir,” the butler bowed slightly, “my master, Sir Dyke, is here for the matter that we mentioned through the letters.” 
“Sir Dyke,” the pair of eyes narrowed. 
Ryan saw his doubt and cut in, “I suppose you need some sort of prove to my identity, yes?” 
“Prove! Yes,” the pair of eyes shown in relieve, that ought to do the job. 
Ryan signaled the butler, and the butler took out the family brooch of the Dyke family. Their family symbol is a dragon showing its fangs, hissing. It looks awfully like a snake with legs and wings, Ryan reckoned.
The eyes examined the brooch only for a moment, then the rectangular metal was placed back to cover the gap. The butler kept the family brooch back in to his pocket, and the both waited as the sound of the locks being reverted is heard. Not a moment too long, an old short man appeared in the doorway. 
“Come on in,” he said gruffly. 

The two went in and passed the old man by. Ryan examined the interior of the cathedral as the old man replaced the locks. The room is warmly lit with white candles that lead to the altar, where a statue of the Christ stood. Along the way towards the altar, two rows of long chairs were placed. Ryan noticed that at the four corners of the square hall, a stick with red candles lit atop was placed. This is a local superstitious way of keeping the ones that is not alive away. 

“We never expect you sir to come for real,” the old man grumbled as he walled passed them and waved for them to follow, “this is not a place for sirs.” 
“What makes you think so?” Ryan asked. 
“Ain’t no carriage can pass through the path out there,” the old man stated the obvious, “and you ave’ to be mad to walk all the way here. Even I ave’ to admit that tis damningly eerie out there.” 
“I have to defer, I found the walk fairly refreshing,” Ryan said with a chuckle, “don’t you think so, Edmund?” 
Edmund the butler kept his silence. 
“Argh, enough small talks,” the old man grumbled as he brought them pass the altar towards a room behind the veils.  

Edmund raised his brows, even though Ryan will not be succeeding his father’s ranks, but he is still a viscount. Almost never in his life has he heard anyone been so rude to Ryan, fortunately, in the viscount’s eyes, he saw only amusement. Edmund sighed lightly. 

The old man opened the door revealing a flight of stairs that elaborates towards darkness. He calmly lighted the candles on the wall one by one along the narrow stairs. Ryan walked in between Edmund and the old man. Edmund notice a small frown on his master as Ryan was watching the old man light the candles. 
Suddenly, the old man slipped and almost fell, Ryan got him just at the nick of time, “damn those damning mice,” the old man growled. 

“I can’t imagine how inconvenient it would be for you and you master to pass through this narrow stairs every day,” Ryan said while straightening him. 

The old man regained his balance and said too quickly, “it’s not, if not for you people.” 

He continued his chore of leading and lighting the way with some low grumbles. 

They descended the long and narrow stairway that led them to a dimly lit oval shaped library, with shelves filled with books as walls. The shelves are spaced out in between, but there are no walls behind. The old man told them to wait in the library while he disappeared into the gaps between the shelves. 

“Hmm, this is interesting,” Ryan mused as he walked to the center of the library. He looked up and saw the sharp roof of the cathedral, far ahead, pointing upwards. The weak light of the crescent moon shone through the cone shaped roof cap, causing reflection in the crystal material, and the light spread straight down to a wooden table right beside of Ryan. 

Edmund walked towards the racks that the old man has disappeared into, only to find another layer of shelves behind the first layer. The gap between the first and the second layer of shelves, Edmund measured roughly, are the same as the gaps between the shelves itself. 

“Amazing,” Edmund took another step. 
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Ryan said while resting on the leather seat behind the desk under the dim moonlight, “you’d probably get lost.” 
Edmund’s face lit up with a grin, “you mean it’s like a maze?” 
Ryan flipped through a notebook lying on the desk, “no--” 
Two voices said together, “--a labyrinth.” 

Ryan looked towards the direction of the second voice; on the opposite side of Edmund’s position, the man was in formal wear, though it is distorted. He left his raven black hair in a mess, and an edge of his dress shirt is out of his trousers that are stained with dirt, leaving his first two buttons undone, his neck tie is obviously nowhere to be seen. However, that doesn’t hide his refined face features, especially his light brown eyes, so light that it is almost gold.

“Spencer,” he offered his hand to Ryan, “pleasure to meet you, Sir Dyke.” 
Ryan smiled and took his hand with a firm grip, “It’s nice to finally put a face to a name, Mr. Bellingham.” 
“Oh dear,” Spencer smiled nervously, “please do call me Spencer, my last name make me sound like an old man with a beer belly.” 
“Indeed it does,” Edmund mumbled, because that was the exact image in his mind when he saw Spencer’s name. 
“So Spencer it is,” Ryan stepped away from the desk. 
A second of awkward silence elapsed, and Spencer waved for the old man to retire for the night, “thank you George for tending to my guests’ needs, you may now retire for the night.” 
George grumbled something that sounded like, “took you long enough,” and left the oval library to the three of them. 

As the sound of the door slamming was heard, Spencer stiffened in anticipation, “I believe that you are here for the body from the River of Ales.”  
The both of them nodded, and Ryan said, “We would like to see the corpse.”  
Spencer laughed, “You gentlemen have no idea how happy you have made me today.” 
Ryan tilted his head a little, “then, please do lead the way.” 

Back in the inn in Darcastle, Ryan had did some research on Spencer. Spencer Bellingham, once in line as the ruler of Lightmanor city, gave up his crown to his brother, due to his passion in the ‘mysterious human body’, as quoted from his last words to his people. His only request is the land of the soulless—Reckham town. 

“Please follow closely,” Spencer lit a two more candles, and handed them one each, “I myself have gotten lost a few times.” 
Edmund was very uncomfortable with his statement, “you mean to say that you had not fully travelled the area?”  
“I have not the time, nor the interest,” Spencer went through in between the shelves that George first did, and the both his guest followed closely. 

As they walked deeper, Spencer took a few turns, and Ryan had them all remembered, even though he is sure that this trail probably will not bring them back. 
“I believe that Norton Greene is not the first corpse sent to you from the River of Ales?” Ryan asked while following Spencer’s footsteps. 
“No, he is not,” Spencer shook his head, “however, his body is quite… different from the others… but you must know that already, for you to come all the way for a dead man.” 
Ryan smiled, “indeed.” 

The last turn to the left brought them to a door. Spencer used a something that resembled a key to unlock the door, and he went in. Ryan following Spencer, had entered a room with bricks as walls, and lit by merely four candles. Oddly, the brightness is sufficient to light up the whole room. 

“Reflecting walls,” Ryan touched the wall, and realized that the bricks are coated with a thin layer of smooth gel of some sort. 
“Yes, yes,” Spencer nodded happily, “it allows the room to be bright enough without heating up too much.” 
Ryan lips curved into a grin, “to keep the bodies fresh.” 
Spencer ran his finger through his hair, “well, it’s still for a limited time. But fret not; I am already working on a formula to be applied on the bodies.” 

“Wouldn’t the supplement destroy the evidence?” Ryan asked while looking around the room that looks almost empty, without taking the pale body lying on the large stone table into account. 
“That is not a problem,” Spencer grabbed his notebook from his pocket, and showed Ryan, “see? Doing this and that,” he pointed at the pictures and the words on his notebook, “it wouldn’t compromise the evidence at all.” 

“I’m impressed,” Ryan couldn’t take his eyes from the brilliant marking of Spencer’s work, “but it seems like you are lacking on some items?” 
Spencer beamed at Ryan; he isn’t always in company with people that understand his work, what not appreciate it. Therefore, he is really excited with confiding on Ryan. 
“Unfortunately yes,” Spencer closed his notes, “there are two ingredients that I can’t seem to get my hands on.” 

“Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” Ryan is quite a traveler; it shouldn’t be hard to look for those ingredients. 
“It would be my utmost honor,” Spencer sighed, “unfortunately; I have yet to be able to name the substances necessary. But I can give you the description.”  
“That’ll do.” Ryan patted Spencer’s shoulder as a reassurance, “speaking of assistance, have you seen my butler around?” 

Spencer shot up alertly and looked around the room, he looked out the door towards the layers of book shelves, but all he can see is a sea of darkness. 
“Dear god,” Spencer exclaimed, “he must have lost his way in the labyrinth!” 
“Oh well,” Ryan shrugged, “we’ll just have to start off without him.” 
“But shouldn’t we head out to look for your butler?” Spencer wiped his sweat from his forehead. 
“Don’t worry, he is quite a capable butler,” Ryan made a hand gesture to signal Spencer to come forward, “now enlighten me on the oddity of this dead person.”
________________________________________
“Norton Greene,” Spencer put on his reading glass and raised his notebook, “a young man with the age of 24.” 

Spencer took the white cloth covering Norton’s body down to his lower torso. Ryan frowned at the face of the deceased. Norton Greene doesn’t even look close to a twenty-four years old young man; he could definitely pass as a forty years old, old chap. 

Spencer caught Ryan’s confusion, and said, “Indeed, he looks nothing like his age.” 
Ryan’s gaze moved down to his torso and limbs. There are no obvious wounds; only a long cut, sewed back in place now, from his chest to his abdomen is seen, in which Ryan believe was done after Norton is dead. 

“According to the reports, Norton is supposed to be a drunk that fell into the river, like they always. However, I found no remnants of alcohol in his body.” 
“It might have evaporated by the time he was transferred here.” 
“True,” Spencer nodded, “and so I moved on to his lungs. And they were as dry as they can be.” 
“He wasn’t drowned.” 

Spencer shut his little book labeled – Norton Greene, and his eyes shone under the flickering candle lights, “He was long dead before he was thrown into the River of Ales.” 
“Murdered,” Ryan frowned, “how?” 
“I can’t be sure,” Spencer’s grasped his hands together, “what I am certain, is—,” 
Spencer looked around quickly then reached for a small glass bottle from the brick table beside the body, and showed it to Ryan up close, “—these little red things are definitely connected to his death.” 

Ryan took the bottle as Spencer handed it to him, inside the bottle, a number of blood red colored, irregular shaped, crystals, laid still. 
“I would’ve confused them with blood if I haven’t tried to mix them in water,” Spencer confessed. 
“You picked them out of the body, thinking that they are blood, and mixed them in water,” Ryan turned his attention back to Spencer, “what were you thinking to achieve?”  
Spencer ran his fingers through his hair again, and blushed slightly, “it’s a habitual activity.” 
Ryan narrowed his eye at him suspiciously, and decided to leave the matter. 

“In any case, can you investigate into these red crystals?” Ryan asked. 
Spencer gave him a swift nod, “I’m confident that I can decode it, in time.”
“That’s reassuring,” Ryan smiled, “please do inform me if you have had any breakthrough with it. In the meantime, I’ll scour resources in order to assist you in your investigation.” 
“That is most appreciated,” Spencer beamed, “is there anything else that you need me to attend to?” 
“Nothing for now,” Ryan shook his head, “but, do remember to keep this within the shadows.” 
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Spencer took off his reading glasses, and secured his book in his pocket once again. 

With that said, the two departed from the room and Spencer locked the door before leaving. 
“With the labyrinth outside, I do not reckon that anyone can trespass into the room,” Ryan asked, “so why the security?”  
“Well,” Spencer grinned ever so slightly that it almost escaped Ryan’s eyes, “locks work both ways.”
________________________________________
When they got back to the library where Ryan and Edmund first met Spencer, someone was already resting on the reading chair, with a book in hand. 

“Edmund, you scoundrel,” Ryan exclaimed, “Where have you been?” 

Edmund immediately stood up from his position and went to his master, “remorsefully, I had been attracted by a certain book in the racks, and got broken off from our trail.” 
“Consider yourself a lucky man, Edmund;” Spencer patted his shoulder, “only a handful had been able to exit the labyrinth.” 
“What a joy,” Ryan grinned at Edmund, and glanced down at his hands only for a split second to know the secret to his extraordinary luck. 

“It had been a pleasure,” Ryan turned to Spencer, “I’ll be waiting for your news.” 
“Will do,” Spencer bowed, “till we meet again.” 
The door that led them to the library was slammed open at that instant, a distant grumbling was heard. 
“There, George will escort you two gentlemen out,” Spencer stepped back into the shadows, “oh and,” 
In the dark, only Spencer’s silhouette can be made out, “Mr. Butler, I noticed that your glove has gone missing, what a shame.” 

Edmund tried to grasp hold of Spencer with his sight, but he had already disappeared into the sea of shelves. Right by Edmund’s side, his master is beaming with amusement, “he is quite a something, isn’t he.” 
Edmund sighed, “He was in line for the throne.” 
“I wonder if his brother is as amusing as he is,” Ryan turned his back towards the direction Spencer had headed to, “King William III.” 

“Bloody hell,” George got closer down, “crazy rats!” 
 “Do stay put,” Ryan advanced towards the old man on the stairs, “we are on our way.” 
Ryan stole one last glance at the crystal glass roof, and realized that the moon had already gone back into hiding. 

By the time Ryan and Edmund said their thanks to the old man George, the sun is already half way up, ridding most of the eeriness of the town, but the trees remained to be un-lively as they were before. 

They got their cloaks back up, covering their heads, and Edmund asked, “Where to? Sir Dyke.” 
“Background checking,” Ryan shoved both his hands into the pockets. 
“Crumbshire town of the Lightmanor city,” Edmund confirmed. 
Suddenly a thought intruded his mind, “isn’t that our informant’s homeland?” 
Edmund smiled, “yes it is.” 
Ryan smirked, “we’d finally meet that ‘incredible’ sister of his.” 
“The healer.” 
a
Ryan remained silent for the rest of the walk. Edmund studied his master’s expression, and cold sweats started to fall. He recognized that look on his master’s face; Ryan always has that mischievous glint in his eyes when he is plotting something, something that usually would have Edmund end up in wounds.