WARNING: The following chapter contains descriptions of torture.

When the anti mage had taken his leave, Syryn spared no time pouncing on the report that was left on the work table. Academic pursuits were the best sort of distraction for Syryn. He settled himself into a comfortable seat and began to read through the information it provided.

Who were the victims? A caravan of merchants on their way to Shan-ri, a village that grew spices on fertile lands that were frequently flooded by river water.

How many victims? 9 merchants and 7 hired guards. They had identification papers that were a necessity for trading at outposts.

The 10 bodies that had been hung displayed severe and terrible marks of torture. But for what purpose? Although Syryn could see the delights that could be found in torture, sadists weren't all cut from the same cloth. The act of inflicting violence and pain made the torturer feel powerful. And when pain was effectively used on one's enemies, it produced results that stoked a kind of pleasure and satisfaction that no other activity could replicate. But that wasn't always the case in every torture scenario.

One of the victims had been flayed alive almost completely. From the descriptions of the condition his body was found in, Syryn surmised that it was done by an amateur. He hadn't tenderised the victim before starting the flaying procedure. It was no wonder the body was left with unevenly skinned patches.

Another one showed self-inflicted gashes and dark bruises all over his face. Syryn didn't have to read far into the report to know that the man was missing his brain as well. The Inquisitor hadn't come to a satisfying conclusion to what had happened to the victim.

Syryn concluded it was the work of a puff worm. Scavengers by nature, the finger-sized furry worms loved eating brains, dead or alive. The man certainly hadn't been dead when the puff worm was introduced to his ear canal. It was an unusual method of torture because most people hadn't caught on yet that the cute little things didn't just snack on dead brains.

The further that Syryn read, the more his confidence soared. He wasn't useless at all to the investigation. Syryn was sure that an alternative profession as an Inquisitor awaited him if he so desired. The young mage pulled out his writing paraphernalia to record his conclusions on the state of torture that each victim displayed. He also worried that the inquisitors had missed details on the corpses, small but significant details that Syryn would have noticed.

The alchemist glossed through the reports and moved onto the 6 individuals who had escaped the torture session that their unfortunate companions had been subjected to. However, theirs was an even more wretched situation. There was no discernable cause of death to explain what their last moments had been like. Even more puzzling was the severe state of decomposition they were found in.

The window of time between being seen alive in Elysium and being found dead was small enough that the extent of their decomposition was unnatural. In addition - without the action of insects on the corpse, Syryn was highly doubtful of the one-week decomposition status that had been accepted as fact.

The entire scenario was puzzling. Just what were the killers trying to accomplish by their actions? Had the merchants offended someone they shouldn't have? The horrors that they had been subjected to were unwarranted and excessive. They were dealing with some very sadistic criminals. The most logical course of action at this point would have been to look into the history of the merchants. Syryn was sure that Artemus was already on it. He, on the other hand, had to contribute with solving the darker aspects of the case, more notably, the question of why scavengers had avoided the corpses.

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"I come bearing news," a handsome sandy-haired mage disturbed Syryn's chain of thoughts still hooked to the caravan case. The alchemist had spent a sleepless night that mostly had to do with his inability to understand the motivations of the killers. There was a psychological aspect to it that eluded his grasp.

"What news?" Syryn asked, a little grateful for the interruption. He was in the initial stages of an unhealthy obsession with the caravan murders.

Sebastian seated himself and studied Syryn's face with interest. They were outdoors and under a horizontal trellis that was covered in roses.

"What do you feel about cross dressin'?" Sebastian asked.

"Why? It's none of my business what you like to do in your free time," Syryn answered.

"Not me. I'm talkin' about you, S'ryn."

The alchemist looked for a smile or any indication that the man was joking but he found none. "I don't crossdress."

Sebastian nodded. "But are ya willin' to consider it?"

Syryn was a lot more confused than he had been a few seconds ago.

"Why would I want to crossdress?"

"Because I want you to." Now Sebastian grinned.

"Put away your naughty hand, S'ryn. If you attack me, we might destroy the pretty plants, and ya know Alka won't like that at all."

It was a good threat. "I won't crossdress, not even if you paid me to do it."

"Why not?"

"Dresses are highly impractical, Sebastian. Have you ever worn one and braved a windy day?"

Syryn's reasoning for his refusal to don a dress wasn't what the older mage had expected. "No, I haven't. You speak from experience, don't ya?" Now he was curious.

"Of course it's from experience. I tried on a dress to find out why women haven't already gotten rid of such impractical things." And it had been a disaster.

He hadn't expected to bump into Traxdart in the narrow corridor of the old castle they'd occupied as a temporary base. And he certainly hadn't accounted for the wind that blew through the open-air corridor. Traxdart and his companion had gotten an eyeful of Syryn's legs under the billowy dress. For someone as prideful as Syryn, it was the most shameful incident he had in memory. And if there was one thing he was grateful for about his rebirth, it was that Traxdart no longer had any memories of that incident.

"You're serious," Sebastian said with awe. "You'd even wear women's clothing to satisfy your inquisitiveness, and yet you refuse my simple request. Aren't we friends, S'ryn? We even shared a bed."

The alchemist bristled at that. "I'm not gonna sit here and get emotionally blackmailed by a pervert. Find another pervert to play dress-up with you!"

"It won't do. It has to be you!"

"Why??"

"Your height and form are perfect for the role of Cass. It's either you or the festival gets ruined."

"I refuse," Syryn coldly informed him. There was no way he was playing Cassiopeia. From Sebastian's words, he had understood what this was about.

"Won't you consider it? I don't want another queen." Sebastian was not averse to begging if it meant he could avoid having to pick one of the noble ladies that the emperor had chosen.

"You've been chosen as Lunar king?"

"Can't refuse an emperor's decree, can ya?"

Someone wasn't happy about it but Syryn refused to be dragged down with him.

"Ask Artemus," the alchemist suggested.

"Are you insane?" Sebastian said it very slowly, almost like he was talking to a mentally challenged person.

"I'm not doing it, Sebastian. My answer is final."

Playing the role of Cassiopeia entailed roaming the streets of Elysium and 'slaying' the night King's minions while the citizens made merry drinking and dancing out on the streets. As fun as it sounded, Syryn was not getting into a dress this side of his life.

"What a shame then," Sebastian said to Syryn. "I suppose I'll just walk away heartbroken today and you'll have to figure out for yourself how the squid does its disappearin' act."

"What?" Syryn sat up straighter. "Did you find a clue?"

A pool of silence surrounded Sebastian. The mage was a picture of relaxed confidence as he waited for Syryn to respond positively to his request.

"You're playing with the lives of mages, future victims of the squid. Spit it out, Sebastian."

"I am getting late for a date with several women who are all vying to be queen. Maybe I'll let ya know after I've captured the squid myself." Sebastian was all teeth when he grinned at Syryn.

"You're despicable," Syryn spat out.

"Is that a yes?"

"I will not be bullied into such foolishness."

Syryn's teenage hormones reacted to the smile Sebastian levelled him with. "If I were bullyin' you, I'd have ya on your knees."

This prompted the teen to wonder how a fight with Sebastian would turn out. Syryn wasn't sure of his chances at all. "Try me."

"Yes, I will, someday. Not today," Sebastian answered as he looked around the trellis like a fidgeting and bored child. "You have two days to decide, S'ryn. The wise emperor seeks a name from me within that time frame. Don't disappoint me. I'd hate to replace you as my queen." Syryn had never met such a shameless person before.

Having said his piece, the mage went his way. Their little exchange left the teen on edge because it was apparent who had the upper hand. He could have said yes and then reneged on it after getting what he wanted, but Syryn knew that Sebastian was no fool to fall for such a simple trick.

"The day I wear another dress, may Eos strike me with her right arm," he said loudly. The temptation for knowledge was so strong that Syryn had half a mind to submit. The damn squid and the answer to its mystery were like a tantalising treasure that he just had to have.

"You sure about that?"

Syryn ignored the person who spoke to him.

"You are so childish." Magnus came to occupy the seat that Sebastian had evacuated. "Stop ignoring me."

"Is that an order?"

"Yes, it is. And you're being dramatic."

Syryn rolled his eyes at Magnus. "We're fighting. That's what people do when they fight. They cease communication."

"And then they make up," Magnus added quickly. "How long do you intend to ignore me?"

Syryn didn't know. All he knew was that Magnus had annoyed him and he wanted the mage to stay away till the negative feelings went away. Syryn wasn't being childish, he was just following his heart.

"You hurt me when you chose to believe Lumi's words above mine. I forgive you but I don't forget," he haughtily told the mage. "If Lumi did to you what he did to me, I'd have believed you against what the evidence presented. I'd have tried to speak to you about it as soon as I could! But you waited till today and that's another strike against you Magnus. Go fuck yourself." Syryn stood up to leave. His temper had come back with a vengeance.

His attempt to exit was foiled by Magnus. Wrist clamped in a firm but gentle hold, the mage told him, "don't walk away."

"Let go," Syryn said, too calm for someone who just had an outburst.

"Listen to what I have to say."

"I did. Let go, Magnus. We're done talking."

"No!" Magnus growled and the suddenness of it came as a shock to the alchemist.

The panther had been roused. Syryn found himself imprisoned between a wall and the arms of an enraged shapeshifter. If Magnus didn't appear so furious, Syryn would have found their positions quite compromising.

"You will listen to what I have to say." The change in his voice was startling. Human vocal cords did not produce such a sound. It showed how agitated Magnus was feeling.

"If you don't let go of me, you can kiss goodbye any goodwill I have left for you. And just letting you know kitty cat, there's hardly any left." Syryn was lying through his teeth. His fondness for the fire mage hadn't lessened despite the rocky phase they were going through.

Magnus immediately let go but not without a frustrated sound that rumbled through his chest. The fire mage wasn't one to lose control like that. It said a lot about how much the cold treatment was getting to him. The alchemist had had his fun and now it was time to act like an adult.

"What's got you all wound up like this? I know it isn't just about me." Syryn had a suspicion that something was amiss with the fire mage and that he was already in a volatile mood when he found Syryn.

"It's Lucien," Magnus confessed easily. "He's become distant. It feels like I'm losing everyone."

Syryn winced. This was a hot cake he absolutely refused to take. Lucien was obviously avoiding Magnus because of his raging crush on the man. Syryn couldn't out his secret like that. Neither could he lie to Magnus with a good conscience.

"Did you talk to him about it?" It was funny how their fight had come to this.

"And say what?" The fire mage replied with misery. "Luci, Red, why aren't you sleeping with me anymore? Do you realise how creepy that sounds?!"

Syryn felt a bubble of laughter begging to be released. "Where does he sleep these days?"

"In Salem's bed. Lucien broke the lock to Salem's room just to avoid me."

Syryn made a mental note to have a conversation with Red about respecting private spaces. He could have just asked to sleep with Syryn. But then again, Sebastian had been there more often than not.

Syryn changed tactics. "Why does a grown-ass man like you still want to sleep with Lucien? You're creepy."

Magnus threw his hands in the air like he was giving up. "Syryn, I'm not a fucking creep. After years of sleeping next to Lucien, it's a change that I can't get used to, alright. But I guess I will since he doesn't want me anymore." Magnus was sulking like an overgrown puppy. "Kids grow up so fast and reject their parents."

Syryn said a prayer in his heart for Lucien's feelings. The fire mage had just compared himself to a parental figure and it didn't bode well for any future prospects of romance.

"I guess you'll just have to get used to it then, "Syryn told him while patting his back. "Lucien is growing up so we'll all have to adjust to his needs."

"And what about mine?"

Syryn smiled at the fire mage, "we'll find you a pillow to hug so you don't feel so lonely without Lucien."