Chapter 29: Unraveling the Past

The streets of Arkwright bustled with the clamor of industry, the rhythmic clatter of steam-powered carriages blending with the distant hum of machinery. Elias sat in a narrow cab across from Lenya, the muted afternoon light casting long shadows across her sharp features. His thoughts swirled as the carriage jostled over cobblestone streets.

"Lenya," Elias began, breaking the silence, "this Office of Arcane Oversight—what exactly are they? Another branch of the Covenant?"

Lenya raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Not quite. The OAO is tied to the monarchy, not the Covenant. Think of them as the kingdom's official regulators of all things mystical. They keep tabs on Veil-related incidents, rogue practitioners, and anything that might tip the balance. If the Covenant is the church, the OAO is the state's enforcer."

"And the Lantern Guard? They worked with the Covenant during the Cinderreach mission," Elias pressed.

"They do, but technically, they answer to both. The Covenant relies on them for muscle and containment, while the OAO uses them for enforcement. It's a partnership born of necessity, not trust." She tilted her head, her voice turning dry. "And it's not without its politics."

Elias frowned. "And the other nations? Do they have their own versions?"

"Every major power has its own system," Lenya replied. "Zhevaran has the Ashen Vanguard—spiritual warriors trained by the Brotherhood of Black Ash. Khadrenka's Veil Reapers patrol the Veilscar Tundra, and the Desert Dominion has their Ember Wardens, fire-wielding zealots who burn away corruption. But none are quite as... methodical as the OAO."

"Methodical?"

"You'll see," Lenya said cryptically, her tone leaving little room for comfort.

The carriage stopped in front of an unassuming brick building. A weathered sign above the door read Registrar's Office – East Arkwright District. Elias glanced at Lenya, arching a brow.

"A front," she said with a shrug. "The real work happens below."

Inside, the building was cold and sterile. Rows of filing cabinets lined the walls, and clerks shuffled between them like ghosts, their faces pale and tired. The air was oppressive, weighed down by the faint hum of Veil-infused wards.

Lenya approached a desk where a bespectacled man sat hunched over a stack of papers. "Carlisle," she greeted, her tone clipped but familiar.

The man looked up, his expression a mix of irritation and resignation. "Lenya. What are you stirring up this time?"

"Justice," she replied with a faint smirk, sliding a folded note across the desk. "We need access to a closed case. Clara Bellemont."

Carlisle unfolded the note, his eyes scanning its contents before he sighed and tucked it into his coat. "Fine. But you didn't get this from me. If anyone asks, I'll deny it." He stood and gestured for them to follow.

Carlisle led them to a small back room, where he unlocked a cabinet labeled M-Disputes – 4C. He pulled out a thin folder and handed it to Lenya. "Fifteen minutes. Don't take anything."

Lenya handed the folder to Elias. "All yours, detective."

Elias opened the file, his gaze skimming the sparse but troubling details:

Date of Death: Six months ago.

Cause of Death: Severe head trauma from a fall.

Notes: Found at the base of a spiral staircase in an abandoned house. Circumstances unusual but inconclusive.

Mystical Assessment: Attempts to summon or communicate with the spirit unsuccessful. Practitioner reports indicate interference from unknown factors.

Elias frowned. "They couldn't summon her spirit?"

"That's rare," Lenya said, peering over his shoulder. "Most spirits linger after violent deaths. Something blocked them."

Elias turned the page and stopped cold. A familiar name leapt out at him: Marcus Harrison.

"Of course," Elias muttered, his grip on the folder tightening.

Lenya's gaze sharpened. "Harrison? That Marcus Harrison?"

"The same," Elias confirmed.

"And now his name shows up here." Lenya's tone turned cold. "He's like a bad penny. Always turning up where he shouldn't."

The file offered little else. Harrison was mentioned briefly as an acquaintance of Clara, with no further investigation into their connection.

"Lazy," Lenya remarked, her voice tinged with disdain. "The OAO probably shelved it since they couldn't prove a Veil link. Typical."

Elias closed the folder and handed it back to Carlisle, who returned it to the cabinet without comment.

---

Outside, the sun was sinking lower, casting long shadows across the streets. Elias and Lenya walked in silence for a time before she broke it.

"So, what's your next move?"

"I need to visit the house where Clara died," Elias said. "If her spirit lingers, that's where I'll find answers."

Lenya tilted her head, studying him. "You're putting a lot of stock in this ghost business. You sure you're not chasing shadows?"

Elias gave her a sidelong glance. "You've seen what I've seen, Lenya. There's more to this than meets the eye. Clara didn't die by accident."

Lenya smirked faintly. "Fair enough. Just don't get yourself killed before you figure it out."

Elias slowed his pace, turning to face her. "Why are you helping me, anyway? This doesn't seem like your kind of problem."

Lenya's smirk deepened. "Call it professional curiosity. You're new to this world, but you've already stepped into more chaos than most veterans. It's entertaining to watch."

"Glad I could amuse you," Elias said dryly.

Lenya shrugged. "Besides, someone has to make sure you don't stumble into something you can't handle. Consider it a favor to a colleague."

They reached the corner where Lenya had arranged another carriage. As Elias climbed in, she leaned on the doorframe.

"Be careful," she said, her tone unusually serious. "Harrison doesn't seem to play fair. If he's involved, this is bigger than a grieving ghost."

Elias nodded. "Thanks for the warning. And for the help."

Lenya waved him off as the carriage pulled away.

Elias leaned back in his seat, his mind a whirlwind of questions. The name Marcus Harrison loomed over Clara's case like a dark cloud. What connection did he have to her death? And why had the OAO abandoned the investigation?

As the carriage wound through Arkwright's narrow streets, Elias adjusted the monocle in his pocket, staring out at the fading light.

Clara Bellemont's death wasn't an accident.

And Marcus Harrison might be the key to uncovering the truth.