[center][h1]Paydirt[/h1]

There were a few places where Belleville was still called Mudville—places that were truly nightless, that resisted the movement to turn the at once famous and infamous getaway for mischievous students of Ersand'Enise into a respectable and boring place. At times, these places still stood as illuminant bastions of liquor and laughter well into the night.

This was not one of those places, and not one of those times.

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	Though no one saw them, they came in force, causing rats to scatter like roaches exposed to sunlight. Though no one heard them, boots descended upon the streets of Belleville with the eerie silence of owls. [i]El Maestro[/i] and two Torragonese guns for hire marched through the back alleys of the northern coast of Mudville like they owned them. Their target: an ordinary and disused-looking warehouse, not unlike the one that had been destroyed not so very long ago. They approached their stationary prey with the ease of a spider, weaving a path through the streets that took them from stone to patch of cobblestone, disturbing neither puddle nor pebble. Such was the art of these assassins, who carried on their backs weapons far deadlier than a scorpion's venom.

	Quiet as a whisper, and invisible to drunken, untrained and unwelcome eyes around them, they observed two Revidian guards at the door, and twice that number in the surrounding alleys, appearing as homeless street bums but acting as clandestine guards themselves. [i]El Maestro[/i] knew their names and their routines—he had been here before many times. If they had seen or heard anything as he and his escort ascended nearby buildings to access the roofs, they had paid them as much mind as the rats in the rafters. Poor luck for the guards: the rats chewed through a board that had been used to bar a broken window. When swung to the side, it offered an entrance both hidden and tempting yet dangerous for a small intruder. After some tense negotiations between the broken glass and vital organs, [i]El Maestro[/i] was in. His escorts would have to manage another way.

	He scanned the familiar surroundings as he navigated the maze of shelves on the ground level, observing several changes to the warehouse's inventory. Most of these were the expected exchanges of supplies typical of the owner's regular operations. One missing object was an atypical change, but also one which [i]El Maestro[/i] had been expecting. They were neither the first nor the only intruders here. Someone had come before. [color=FFE4C4]"Clean work, gentlemen."[/color] He congratulated them before he saw them. Sure enough, they revealed themselves in short order. One jumped down from the rafters just as [i]El Maestro[/i] had done, while another rose through the floor. "It was too easy, boss," one replied. [color=FFE4C4]"The security here [i]is[/i] rather lacking, wouldn't you agree?"[/color] The two "gentlemen" nodded. [color=FFE4C4]"We've allowed them to get comfortable in this job, and so they've become lazy,"[/color] he judged. [color=FFE4C4]"Our prize has already been taken, to boot. I must confess, I've never had a job go quite like this. The least they could have done is entertain me just a little."[/color]

	No sooner had he diagnosed the injury than he proceeded to pour salt into it, raising his pistol into the air and firing a shot.

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	His escort did not panic. They did not question his actions nor attempt to hide themselves as the Revidians poured in from outside and began to assume formation alongside those within. "Stop!! Identify yourselves!!" the senior guard shouted at the trio. [i]El Maestro[/i] and his escort slowly turned to him, holding their position as more Revidians slowly trickled in. "Identify yourselves, now!!" echoed the captain of the warehouse's guard as he joined the ensemble. Only when the full number of their prey had arrived did [i]El Maestro[/i] lower his hood. "[i]You?![/i] What are you doing here, [i]Volta?![/i]" he demanded of the young Revidian, prompting the intruding trio to exchange glances.

[center][i][color=slateblue]So, it's not Ciro who's betrayed me...[/color][/i][/center]

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[h1][color=slateblue]Paydirt[/color][/h1]
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	[color=FFE4C4]"Good evening, gentlemen. I came to make a simple withdrawal... only, it seems that what I desire is not here. Now, why would that be..?"[/color] "Ciro" inquired with a winsome smile.

	"What?! Don't get ahead of yourself, kid. You're not a member of the Solari family," he growled.

	[color=FFE4C4]"Hey, that stings. No need to bludgeon me with technicalities like that, alright? I'm sure she won't mind."[/color]

	"Don't do anything rash. You're surrounded... come out peacefully. There's still a chance this won't end badly for you."

	[color=FFE4C4]"...Is that right? You may want to look again, and consider just who exactly is surrounded."[/color]

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	With his squad's guns trained on the intruder, the captain glanced behind him. Suddenly, the door was barred by more Torragonese elites. Suddenly, he could see and recognize their faces. He'd been outmaneuvered from the start. Now, the ball was in their court. [color=FFE4C4]"Perhaps you haven't heard the news in your drunken stupor. I'll explain..."[/color] As the captain turned back, he found the barrel of the teen's pistol pointed directly at him. [color=FFE4C4]"An 'Impostor Xiuyang' was seen wielding the Sanguine Bayonet—the very same one which was stored at this warehouse... and at the same scene, multiple students of Ersand'Enise are now dead. Do you understand what this means..?"[/color]

	The barrel of the captain's rifle shook. If his failures even slightly contributed to the possibility of a member of the Solari family to be under threat of investigation... he and his men were screwed, and he knew it. [color=FFE4C4]"On behalf of my love, who cannot be seen out at this time of night due to your miserable failure... you are all fired. Furthermore, on behalf of the Solari family, who are [i]rather busy[/i] at the moment, you're under arrest."[/color] He watched the meaning of the words sink into their faces as he lifted the muzzle of his pistol away from them. [color=FFE4C4]"I want them all alive... but if they try to escape, don't hesitate to break them,"[/color] he finalized, before turning his attention to the rows and rows of shelves.

	And some did try to escape, for they knew the fate that awaited traitors of the Solari. A few quick gunshots rang out behind the disguised Xiuyang as she once again turned her attention to the warehouse shelves. Weaving her way through the aisles, she took quick inventory of her own belongings, doubly confirming the strange truth that the Sanguine Bayonet was the only thing of great value that was missing. [i][color=slateblue]Who would only steal one artifact? Was it a bribe..?[/color][/i]

	[color=FireBrick][i]Watch who you trust, okay? Aside from me. Trust [b]me[/b]![/i][/color]

	Queen Hylaenii's words continued their haunting echo in Xiuyang's heart. While she had many people in her circle, she truthfully only trusted a few of them. Some of those people had the connections to find out where Solari-owned properties were—but, only the Solari themselves knew why this particular location happened to be important at this exact point in time. There was one more thing Xiuyang needed to check. Once she was confident that she wasn't being followed, she crawled to the other side of one particular shelf, and entered into an isolated spot that couldn't be accessed any other way, but was otherwise unremarkable. She lifted up the false bottom of a particular crate, shielding herself from the hidden gas trap... only to find that it had already been triggered. She began to grow nauseous. Leaping down into the hidden underground pit, she searched the shelf of rare and valuable books for the one they served as cover for.

	A small, blue leather-bound book with a cavalier hat on the front—a book that, while antique, was very ordinary-looking, and had many others that looked exactly like it. It was a brand that had been popular in Torragon about 50 years ago, and many wealthy young ladies of a previous generation would have written all kinds of innocent secrets within, rendered invisible by a special, particular kind of paper that reacted to manas... but this was not her or her mother's diary, nor was it an innocent book. It was a temporary record that contained many secrets of the Solari, their companies, and their business partners. Bribes, blackmail, other illicit transactions... anything done recently which needed to be recorded, but had to stay off the [i]bank[/i] records—a book so secret and dangerous in the wrong hands, that it could only be brought up in family conversation with a codename: Paydirt.

	It was gone.

	Xiuyang's heart raced. This was impossible. Only the Solari knew of this book's existence, and only she and her father knew its current location. She meticulously double-checked every book on the shelf to ensure that she wasn't going insane. There was no way... Who could know of it? Who could steal it? What did they plan to do with it? Realizing that her hidden grotto was now a crime scene, she began to look for evidence. With some difficulty, Xiuyang sensed around the area. The earth had not been moved recently... the gas trap had been activated. The intruder had accessed her hiding place from above. She began the long ladder climb back up, feeling around in the darkness for anything that could have been caught in the narrow tunnel. It was a long and agonizing minute before her manas began to react to something she'd caught with her hand: a hair she didn't recognize. [i][color=slateblue]It's long... red... Trypano?[/color][/i] She explored the structure of it—something which she could only do intuitively with her Facemimic manas, but could not begin to fully comprehend: Oraff's holy instructions. [i][color=slateblue]No... this person is too short to be Trypano. Besides, she's too straight-laced for this kind of work... Maura? She'd have the motive... Ayla, I'd hate to imagine it... No. This person is neither Torragonese nor Revidian. Revidian is closer... but not quite Perrench, either... Damn! If it was compatible with me, I wouldn't have to guess! I could just look in the mirror...[/color][/i]

	It left Xiuyang with more questions than answers—questions which would torment her. [i][color=slateblue]Any female of mixed blood, with red hair and a RAS of 7 or above. Does that really narrow it down..? It does rule out pure-blooded nobility, but they have lackeys for this kind of work. It'd be easier for me if the culprit was acting alone...[/color][/i] Exiting the mass of shelves, she addressed one of her escorts, still disguised as Ciro. [color=FFE4C4]"Something important is missing, after all. An old diary,"[/color] she began. "What shall we do?" one replied. Xiuyang handed him a piece of paper. [color=FFE4C4]"Check every antique and pawn shop for a book of this description. Ask them if anyone has shown any interest in buying such a thing..."[/color] The man took the paper and nodded. Xiuyang waited for him to leave, then turned to the other man. [color=FFE4C4]"Put out some feelers in our usual disinformation channels. Quietly suggest that some dirt on the Solari family is for sale. Take note of any interested parties. Let them run around looking for the seller. Take note of who they suspect..."[/color] The man silently nodded, and faded away.

	[color=FireBrick][i]Watch who you trust, okay?[/i][/color]

	[i][color=slateblue]I want to trust Ciro... but I can't just dismiss the fact that he seems to know everything about me without telling him. Just like the Twin Emperors... unlike the others, he wasn't shocked to learn about Facemimic. I should have expected that... my little "pranks" didn't surprise him at all. And, why did he seem unhappy with Maria?[/color][/i] Her mind continued to race. Tears wanted to fall, but she wouldn't let them. [i][color=slateblue]Damn it, Hylaenii! Why did you have to go and say something like that?![/color][/i]

	Ciro was just like her father, she realized. It was easier to keep tabs on the goings-on of Belzagg than her own lover's personal business. On some level, she accepted it, but on another, she resented the fact that it only seemed to go one way. [i][color=slateblue]...I need to focus on what I can control. If I'm to become a Tan-Zeno, it shouldn't be impossible to obtain some basic personnel records. The hair could have ended up there by chance... but if it was on me, it shouldn't be a stranger's hair. Why don't I recognize it..?[/color][/i] Exhausted, she massaged the temples which were not hers, with fingers that were not hers. [i][color=slateblue]I'm running out of time. Tomorrow...[/color][/i] she told herself, as legs that were not hers took her back to her dorm building.

	[i][color=slateblue]Ipte, I'm tired...

	Tired of never having the strength to trust or believe in anyone.

	Myself least of all...[/color][/i]