“Harmed. Or dead,” Argon finished.
“This is…I can’t…” Miela exhaled, closing her eyes. “Lieutenant, I understand your need for discretion around your case, given your circumstances. But you know very well that if there’s a case involving murder, it will be difficult to—”
“Captain, there’s a reason why I’m coming straight to you instead of reporting it to the other authorities. I think… I think we need to keep this quiet,” he said. “Not just for my sake.”
Miela was silent.
“Think about this,” he urged. “I’m a Lieutenant with the Guardians. I was with a bunch of royal officials last night. Not many people are that closely connected with them. If word got out that I was attacked…”
“They might take it as a message against the Guardians, or worse, the Royal Family,” finished Miela, a far off look in her eye. “Especially with Yun Zeru in the mix…”
“It’s not easy to break into my house to begin with,” continued Argon.
Miela nodded in agreement. Being a Guardian, his house should have been well warded. “Do you know anyone who would try to scare you? Someone resentful, maybe? Maybe someone who wants to get into Yun Zeru’s inner circle?”
Argon shrugged. “I’m not sure. Not many people know I’m affiliated with Yun Zeru.” He began to pace again. “Even you weren’t aware, and you’re my commanding officer.”
Miela nodded.
“I don’t know,” sighed Argon. “Being a Guardian, I know I’ve made some enemies. But I don’t know anyone who would do something like that.”
“All right, Lieutenant. I’ll check it out, and I’ll keep it low profile,” Miela assured the distraught man. “But I’ll need to put together a task force.”
“People you trust to keep this case confidential, I hope.” Argon crossed his arms, his eyebrows pulled together in worry.
“Sargent Esen and Detective Vega,” Miela suggested. “They’re one of our best.”
“All right. Do we need any consultants?”
“Maybe,” hummed Miela. “Elara’s been brought on a few of our more recent cases as a junior consultant. She doesn’t have much experience under her belt, but you can trust her.”
Argon nodded, silently giving his consent. He wasn’t fond of his childhood rival, but he could not argue with her intellect.
“Let’s go,” said Miela, hastily walking out of the room. Argon turned foot and followed.
“What’s the next code sequence?” whispered the visiting Noiro.
The visiting Elara jerked in surprise at his voice, pulling her out of the conversation that she was so immersed in. Elara showed Noiro the next page, and he spun the Aether Stone’s dials to the next code. The visiting group gasped as the world around them suddenly changed.
“What just happened?” cried the visiting Miela, alarmed.
“We’re moving onto the next code sequence from the journal. A different day,” Elara explained. Argon nodded, his alarm apparent as well at the sudden change.
The group turned their attention to future Elara, who was fumbling with a set of keys as she tried to open up a locked door, balancing a stack of books and papers in her other arm.
“Where are we?” asked Elara.
“Guardian Headquarters,” Miela whispered, eyeing the rows of marble bookshelves carved into the wall. She pointed to her new Guardian uniform. “You’re a consultant.”
“Elara!” a voice called out from the other end of the hallway. Some Guardians looked disapprovingly as a tall uniform-clad man ran down the otherwise silent hall.
“Elara, have you seen Captain Miela anywhere?” the man asked.
Elara let out a small, triumphant exhale as she finally fit the right key into the door. She gestured for the man to follow her into the room. “I’m supposed to meet her in an hour,” Elara said, dropping the stack of books onto her table with a loud thud. “Why?”
“It’s urgent,” the man insisted. “I need to speak to her now.”
“Oh no.” Elara’s face fell. “Vega, what is it?”
The Detective sighed, shaking his head. “It’s the Erifs,” he muttered darkly.
Elara gasped and covered her mouth. “The Erifs? Did they find her body?”
“Inana? No.” Vega shook his head. “It’s her parents. Mr. and Mrs. Erif. They’re dead.”
Elara gasped, and sat down slowly in her chair. “How?”
“It looks like a double suicide,” Vega mumbled. “It started off like any other call. One of the neighbors called in a welfare check on the Erifs. The front door had been left open for a couple of days. When I got there… Oh, God, the stench. I knew we were too late.” Vega closed his eyes, shuddering at the memory of the two bodies strewn across the living room carpet.
“Suicide?” Elara whispered, horrified. “Do you think that maybe…losing Inana…?”
Vega shook his head again. “Maybe. I don’t know. I don’t think it’s a suicide. It sure looks like it, though. But something’s off.”
“What makes you think that?”
Vega shrugged. “There was still some food on the table. Half eaten. It was covered in flies by the time we got there, given the door was open for a few days. But who would commit suicide in the middle of having dinner?” Vega put his hands on his side. “There was no sign of a struggle, either, which is strange. If an intruder had come in, I’m sure there would have been some signs of resistance. You know what Mr. Erif is like. He’s a big man; he’d fight back.”
Elara nodded. She had known the Erifs for a long time, and it was certainly unlike Mr. Erif not to engage in a scuffle had an intruder broken in.
“They also had some suitcases packed, as if they were ready to leave,” continued Detective Vega.
“Leave? Elara asked, putting a hand to her chin.
Vega nodded. “Most of their clothes were packed. Some valuables, too. A lot of money. It looked like they were going to leave for good.”
“Something must’ve scared them off. They were still waiting to hear any news about Inana,” said Elara, frowning.
“I know. It doesn’t make sense. But the lead officer responding to the call was adamant about reporting it as a suicide. Everything’s off about this,” he confessed. “That’s why I need to meet with Captain Miela. She’ll be upset if this case goes to anyone else. She’s been trying to find Inana for months now.”
Elara got up from her chair. “You’re right,” she agreed. Miela had been looking for Inana for the last five months; she would definitely want to know. Elara bit her lip. She knew the chances of finding Inana alive were slim to none. But her parents never lost hope, clinging to any bit of information they could get their hands on regarding their daughter’s whereabouts.
“Five months,” the visiting Elara murmured, her thoughts focused on what her future self said about Inana.
“December,” the visiting Noiro remarked quietly. He held up Elara’s journal. “The journal was marked December.”
Noiro glanced at Argon, whose face was dark with horror and fear. Inana had been a close friend of Argon’s. “We were neighbors back in Ursa Isles when we were growing up,” the visiting Argon uttered softly. “She was my friend.”
“We’re going to stop this,” the visiting Miela asserted.
Argon nodded, his resolve burning inside him.
“It’s been five months since the attack on Argon,” the visiting Elara noted. “Five months since Argon’s attack, and five months since Inana went missing. And the future Elara mentioned that she assumed Inana was already dead. Could Inana’s blood be the one found in Argon’s room?”
Argon grew even more worried at Elara’s words. Her conclusion certainly made sense. Could it be?
The group stood still as the world shifted around them again. Elara looked up to see that future Elara, Noiro, Miela, and Argon were on a small boat, floating through a deep, serene ocean. Miela and Argon sat at the head of the boat, while Noiro and Elara sat in the rear. Future Miela
grunted lightly as she heaved an oar into the water, steering the boat through a collection of small islands and sandbars. Argon rowed in unison, expertly navigating through the area.
“Where are we?” the visiting Elara asked.
“Ursa Isles,” murmured the visiting Argon. He was definitely familiar with his hometown, although it had been years since he had last gone back.
“Stop your whining,” future Elara laughed, catching the visiting group’s attention. “It’s a beautiful day for being out at sea. And it’s the first lead we’ve had in ages.”
“I’m not complaining,” future Argon grumbled, although there was a hint of mirth in his tone. “I just don’t understand why I have to come, too.”
“You know exactly why,” future Elara chided. “Except for you, we’ve all never been to Ursa Isles before. Besides, your sister isn’t exactly going to give up information so easily to a bunch of strangers.”
“Yeah, yeah,” future Argon muttered, steering the boat forward. Elara nudged him, smirking. He smiled at Elara, nudging her back.
“Y’know, I’m not so sure why you’re here, either,” Argon continued teasingly. “I thought only Guardians were involved in solving cases.”
Elara scoffed. “After being involved for over a year now, I think I’m pretty much a Guardian.” She grinned. “Besides, there’s not much to it. Just snap my feet together when someone walks by and look serious.” She pulled together a solemn look, which quickly broke out into laughter.
“Hey! You got him to smile!” Miela chuckled, turning her head. “He’s been groaning and moaning all day about this call.”
They drew closer to a small island, and Miela and Argon landed the boat onto its sandy shores. The group clambered out of the boat, helping to push it further up the beach and clear out of the tide’s reach.
They turned and walked up the beach, following Argon as he led them up a sandy pathway through the island’s vegetation.
The small tropical forest cleared, and the visiting Elara could make out houses beginning to dot the horizon.
“This way,” said future Argon as he led them up another pathway. Even though it had been years since he had last been here, his body moved automatically towards his old childhood home.
The group followed Argon to a small, yellow house at the end of the pathway. A few palm trees stood at either side of the house’s entrance, and some small, red flowers crept up the sides of the fence.
“This it?” inquired future Miela, looking at Argon.
He nodded in response, looking at his sister’s house. His grin slipped away from his face, suddenly feeling guilty. He couldn’t remember the last time he had visited her.
“All right. Argon, do you mind starting us off? I need to find my notebook,” Miela trailed off as she dug around in her satchel.
Argon nodded and lifted his hand to knock on the door, pulling himself into a dignified, disciplined stance. Elara fought back the urge to laugh; she had seen Argon slip in and out of his military-trained stance a thousand times, and it always entertained her.
He rapped his knuckles on the door. A small shuffling noise sounded from behind the door, followed by a small click as a lock slid out of its place.
Elara smiled cheerily as a tall woman with short, curly black hair answered the door.
Argon stared, stunned at the familiar face staring back at him.
Elara looked at Argon, waiting for him to speak. He looked perplexed, frowning as he stared at his sister. The woman stared back at him, her eyes almost blank.
Something was not right.
Elara, growing more uncomfortable with the prolonged silence, stepped forward towards the woman.
“Estelle Tawer,” she greeted, extending her arm out to shake her hand as she smiled warmly. “I’m Elara Jove. I believe we—”
“ELARA!”
The visiting group were stunned by the sudden action of future Argon. From where they stood, it looked like a cordial greeting, and were shocked by future Argon’s shout and the way he shoved future Elara roughly to the ground. But nothing shocked them more than the sudden shriek from the older woman as she charged towards them, a sharp knife drawn. The woman fell to the floor, missing her target, her knife still clutched tightly in her fist. She lifted her head, her short, curly hair tumbling over her face, her wild eyes darting fervently back and forth from beneath her messy locks. She yanked herself up and lunged again, this time towards future Argon, the point of the knife aimed directly at his face.
Future Noiro moved quickly, ramming his body into her from the side and intercepting the crazed woman’s attack. She fell to the floor once more, whimpering as Noiro held her head with one hand and the knife in the other. Estelle glanced desperately at the door to her house, and then back down the road away from it. The internal battle the woman was fighting was apparent: should she make a run for it?
The door to her house creaked ajar.
“There’s someone in there!” future Miela yelled, and ran into the house in pursuit of the hidden offender, leaving Estelle on the ground, with Noiro still on top of her, attempting to hold her down.
Estelle let out a terrified wail at the sight of the door moving. A sudden surge of adrenaline rushed through her, and she flipped over Noiro, grabbing the knife away from him. In one swift motion, Estelle plunged the sharp blade into her neck and ripped it open.
The visiting and future onlookers watched in horror as Estelle Tawer gurgled and choked on her own blood, her body twitching horribly as a deep crimson stain rapidly grew larger on her blue cotton dress.
“Damn it,” future Argon cursed loudly. He frantically moved towards his sister, quickly turning her over and pressing his hands to the wound on her neck, applying pressure. Her head slumped over lifelessly, and his hands slipped over the blood. “Elara, get something to stop the bleeding!”
“It’s no use,” future Elara cried, scrambling for a piece of cloth and pressing it to the woman’s neck. “She hit the jugular vein. She’s dead.”
“We have to try!” Argon pleaded, gawping at his dying sister. He lay her flat on the ground and began to perform chest compressions, trying to revive her heart. Tears gathered in the corner of his eyes as her body jerked lifelessly underneath the pressure of his palms.
Noiro was still frozen to his spot on the ground next to him, eyes glued on Estelle.
Argon let out a frustrated growl as his efforts to revive her were clearly failing. A loud snap sounded from her chest, and Argon froze. “Her rib,” he moaned in horror. He moved away from the body, suddenly afraid to touch her. Her head lolled lifelessly to the side.
There was no point in continuing the resuscitation. She was dead.
Elara moved a hand onto Argon’s arm. Her hands were slippery with blood. He put a hand over hers, squeezing it tightly as he stared blankly at his sister’s dead body.
A scream ripped through the house.
“Miela!” future Noiro yelled. The three sprang into action, racing towards the source of the scream.
The visiting group held their breath as they watched their future selves run full-tilt through the house, anxiety coursing through their veins as they craned their necks to see what happened next. Before they could see what happened inside the house, the world changed around them again.
“No! Damn it! What happened?” Elara demanded, whirling around to look at Noiro, who was twisting the Aether stone to the next page in the journal.
“Damn it!” she cursed again, turning away from Noiro.
“Easy, El,” Miela murmured, her voice wobbling. The tremble in her voice was barely there.
“Miela? Miela!” Elara’s voice interrupted the outburst amongst the visiting group, and they turned their attention back to the new scene materializing in front of them.
“You’re okay,” the visiting Noiro breathed in relief, looking at future Miela walking down a hallway.
Future Elara was running through a long, narrow hallway, her footsteps thunde
ring as she raced to catch up with the tall, blonde woman in the crisp Celestial Forces uniform.
“Miela! What is it? Is everything alright? I got your message. Did something—”
“We have to go,” future Miela urged, her face pale with panic.
Future Elara’s breath caught in her throat at her friend’s stance. It usually meant one of two things: someone was in trouble, or dead.
She dreaded either.
“Miela? What happened?”
“I’ll explain on the way. Let’s go.”
“Just tell me,” Elara pleaded desperately. “Who? Who is it this time?”
Miela gritted her teeth, turning to look at Elara. “We just got the call. The Tawers.”
“No!” Elara’s breath caught in her throat as the blood drained from her face. “Argon?”
“I don’t know, yet,” Miela faltered.
Elara gulped hard.
“Wear your armor, and don’t leave my side,” said Miela, shoving a bag into Elara’s hands.
Future Miela and Elara raced into the next room, and the visiting observers watched as the world changed around them again.
It was the same night. Future Miela and Elara were sprinting across a lawn and leapt over a small fence, both clad in a thin, flexible, metallic armor. Miela’s Captain insignia flashed in the moonlight as they swept through the grounds. The house that once stood in the center of the grounds now lay in ruins. The visiting Elara glanced back at the visiting Argon, anxiously inspecting his reaction at seeing his home destroyed. Indeed, Argon looked like he was going to be sick.
“Are there any survivors? Do we know who was in there?” future Miela barked at one of the moving officers combing through the scene. The officer glanced at a body a few feet away, lying face down. The remains of a pale pink night dress was draped over the body’s thin frame, and an unruly mop of familiar curly black hair spread across the floor. A small pool of blood trickled out from beneath the body. Future Elara looked away. She didn’t need to see any more to know who it was.
The visiting Argon’s blood ran cold as he stared at the remains of his mother’s body. He took a step forward, and then hesitated. He felt like he was going to be sick.
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