Mrs. Battermore
Under the cover of an impenetrable sea of pink, lilac, gold, white, and red, a sod house stands on support beams fixed sturdily into stone, and boasts the most echoy wooden floors in the whole of the Island of Terun, because directly below is the uppermost layer of the Underdark. The man who built his home here knows the cave systems beneath the Mainland are still inhabited, but no one he has encountered throughout his life seems to be interested in—or even know of—the completely abandoned ruins beneath the Archipelago. No one except for Elliott, who is interested in everything.
You can only imagine his surprise the first time he heard the train of the Leo Vuttel Rail barrel through, dangerously close to the library of knowledge he had been hoarding. Making a mortal-built wall seem like a millennia-old terraformation of the goddess Sonu was no mean feat, but he expected his handiwork was successful enough that no one would be able to tell he's here, even if they wander far from the hidden rail station—and far from its tracks—to find his false dead-end.
The only problem he can't seem to solve is that ever-present watchful elf who painfully stands out in the village of gnomes.
Most notably, "Ekkeko" is the name of a Dalindan God. Anyone using such an obviously fake surname would have to be the dumbest mortal in all of Evren—unless they're standing out on purpose.
Pointy-Ears has been on her trail for between two and three weeks, and now she's completely dropped off the radar, again. Each time, Round-Ears swears up and down that the spell is still active; she's just behind some impenetrable wall of spell. So, instead, Pointy-Ears has been trying to go after any physical clues she could have left behind. Traditional methods of tracking. The boring way.
It's true that he and Round-Ears can only see her, but they're keen enough to be able to tell that she isn't alone. A few times, Pointy-Ears can swear he senses... them, with her. He's certain, after feeling it a few times. There's no way it can be a coincidence.
Or... maybe it can be a coincidence. Everyone knew that's where she was laid to rest. It's incredibly like them to hide out in the most conspicuous place imaginable, the idiot.
"Babe," says Round-Ears' voice from his pocket. He pulls the sending stones from their place. "I know you're already on-mish, but... Fate just showed. Susan's delivered a prophecy."
Pointy-Ears stands dumbfounded.
"Babe?"
"Did you hear it?"
"No."
"Sherkeh. Is she still—"
"On Nasus, yeah."
"I'm on my way there. Thanks, Millsy."
"Of course."
"And I'm guessing this is a no, but she's still off the radar?"
"Yeah. Days now. But I'm watching."
"I know you are. I love you."
"I love you too."
The half-orc Beatrice Kaatsaki fell ill shortly after being elected Head-of-State in Oscolo, Ashera. First it was headaches and nausea, then vertigo and exhaustion, and she still hasn't gotten over the traumatic nightmares she experienced when she was bedridden with the worst fever of her life. Other members of the council laughed it off and told her that "state sponsored sickness," was essentially a rite of passage for Councilors and Heads-of-State after they've sworn to their post. Not everyone got sick, but most did. "Something in how the Capitols are constructed," they all suppose, but never move to confirm.
It's yet another thing that no one seems to be bothered by, except for her. Like the displaced mountain dwarves of Ashera, or why so many gods have been able to just abandon their domains since the war. Even some of the ones still considered honored and revered hadn't been heard from in decades—Iris, Tilly, Susan, Pax, and even Sonu, who she secretly wished would just Krahii, already—they're just gone.
What no one else mentions of the illness, though, is how clear the mind becomes afterward. The fog over Beatrice's thoughts still descends on her sometimes, but it's so much rarer, now. She feels like she never truly existed before her illness and recovery. She has mental energy to spare, for the first time ever. And Fates as her witness, she's using it to turn her mind back to her only interest outside of politics: cold-cases. Even when she was a child, she wanted to be a detective when she grew up. Beatrice Kaatsaki: Cold Case Ace.
It was Lucian Marius of the High Council who presented her with the case involving the chemical explosion of a Fendus Warehouse in the year 213—and he brought it to her on the fortieth anniversary of the incident, too. The more Beatrice Kaatsaki looks at it, the stranger it becomes. She can't find any college in the world teaching chemical compounds like what caused this explosion. They weren't used in the war. They aren't common in any labs she can uncover, and certianly not part of the food sanitation compound itself. She's read book after book on chemical and alchemical practices and can't find anything like it. And now, she's pretty sure she's found him—the one who apparently survived, despite all records stating that everyone inside the warehouse perished in the explosion.
Has he really been in Boarwood, all this time?
Beatrice Kaatsaki: Cold Case Ace. She is going to get to the bottom of this.