The Simulacrum - Chapter 118 - Part 4 (Patreon)

Over the last couple of months, I've developed a deep and profound respect for stage magicians.

It was an impressive art form, and on this point, I believe most would readily agree with me. Yet, at the same time, it wasn't viewed with the same kind of prestige as, say, a Broadway actor or a ballet dancer was. Maybe because the profession was simultaneously associated with Las Vegas casinos and children's birthday parties at the same time, I wondered?

Whatever the case might have been, the craft hit a chord with me. If I had to give a simple reason, it had to be because I felt a sense of kinship with the profession. After all, the stage magician's work was an art that required meticulous planning, tireless practice, custom-made props, as well as a well-prepared stage, all in the name of making the audience have no choice but to believe the impossible. It was maybe the purest form of deception; a marriage of honed sleight of hand and bombastic showmanship taken to the very limit.

In that sense, maybe I already was a stage magician, except my stage was neither in a casino nor in some kid's backyard.

"Please, everyone. Calm down," Naoren addressed the small crowd inside the spacious conference room of the Dracis mansion, going as far as to use a real gavel to punctuate his words.

After the Draconic Federation became an official organization, its governing body, the Draconic Council, required a meeting place, where they could discuss and vote on administrative and legislative matters. Needless to say, the patriarchs already put plans into motion to erect a brand-new building in Timaeus, solely dedicated to this function, but while it was scheduled to start construction in the spring, they had to do with this chamber in the meantime.

Of course, that didn't mean that these highly esteemed and not at all pretentious Draconian family heads and elders would be satisfied by holding their oh-so-important meetings in a 'mundane' conference room. Oh, no sir. They had to uphold their prestige, their importance, and their inherent 'je ne sais quoi', and doing that by sitting over a big table wasn't enough. They needed to have something more.

And as such, the 'humble' conference room of the estate was remodelled in record time and got turned into a miniature version of a parliament building's assembly hall, complete with multiple rows of curved benches arranged into a semi-circle facing an elevated platform. All of that, plus the wall panels and even the ceiling, was made of lacquered hardwood, richly carved with a mixture of Eastern and Western motifs, including depictions of the two kinds of dragons. The biggest and most eye-catching of those was the relief on the pulpit in the center, which had an enormous depiction of a long-necked, winged western dragon on the left and a coiling eastern dragon with a thick mane and deer horn on the right, their tails meeting and intertwining in the middle. Very symbolic, much wow.

But enough about architecture; let's focus on the events unfolding.

"How are we supposed to stay calm in this situation?" one of the younger members of the Draconic Council (the new patriarch of the Mongolian families, if my memory served right) exclaimed with clear indignation. He pointed at the man standing behind the pulpit in front of the elevated area where Naoren, Abram, Arnwald, and a few other members of the Draconic Federation's top brass were seated. "How come this is the first time we've heard of this?"

The person at the podium, namely, everyone's favourite Sir Roland, levelled a flat gaze at the accusatory finger pointed his way and blandly stated, "As I have already told the esteemed Council, we wanted to keep the disappearance of Sir Percival secret until we could fully discern what happened to him."

"Did you know about this, Sir Arnwald?" the matriarch of the Albion family inquired from the Knight sitting on her right, and our Sir Eagle barely stifled an annoyed groan.

"Yes, I was aware. Naturally." Her eyes remained fixed on him, and so were the rest of the Council's (plus the guests', but we'll get back to that later), so he was compelled to elaborate. "Due to certain information we received shortly after our liege's disappearance, Sir Percival's account of the events came under scrutiny. We wished to interrogate him further once he recovered, but our plans were foiled due to his sudden and inexplicable vanishing."

Needless to say, Arnwald wasn't aware of my involvement as Bel, and as such, he was here to serve as someone with plausible deniability. Roland, on the other hand, had a much more involved role in the events to come.

Speaking of him, he raised his voice to follow up on the previous comment.

 "Since we couldn't be sure whether he escaped the mansion on his own upon realizing that he was under suspicion, or if a third party was involved in his disappearance, the Ordo Draconis unanimously ruled to keep the incident confidential until we concluded our investigation into the matter. It was to avoid any needless rumors or panic."

"It would create some nasty gossip, wouldn't it?" a new voice noted with a clear sense of schadenfreude, and it was followed up by a low hiss.

"Shut your gob, you lout. We're in public."

"Both of you, please stay quiet," a third, familiar voice chided them both, coming from the mouth of an especially exasperated Lord Grandpa, sitting in the front row of the assembly hall along with four new-ish faces. I was familiar with all of them through Far Sight, but as far as I knew, this was the first time they showed up in force like this.

From left to right, we had our usual Lord Grandpa, looking slightly more exhausted than usual. Next to him sat Lord Barnabas, a dark-skinned man with a prim-and-proper black suit instead of the usual robes. By his side, Lord Ambrose, a stout and rotund Magi dressed like an over-achieving wizard player at a LARP event, complete with a staff and bushy beard, was still silently bickering with the lanky man on his other side. Lord Gulliver was clad in a dark blue academic gown that hung loosely on his bony frame, providing a strong contrast with his fiery red hair. Last, but not least, there sat a middle-aged woman in an elaborate white dress robe, complete with laced long gloves, as if to complement her raven-black hair woven into a thick braid. While Lord Taika certainly seemed elegant at first glance, the sour expression on her face said she absolutely didn't want to be here.

"I would like to ask the Assembly delegation to kindly restrain themselves," Dad-in-law called out to them, and the dark-skinned man immediately stood up and gave him a shallow bow.

"I wish to apologize in the stead of my esteemed colleagues, patriarch. Please find it in your heart to overlook their transgression."

"Don't grovel, you fool!" the bearded Magi hissed, and the hitherto diplomatic Lord Barnabas turned a critical eye at the bearded man.

"This is a diplomatic mission. Is it too much to ask to uphold the bare minimum of decorum, Lord Ambrose?"

"Are you sure you want him to answer that?" the lanky man who started this whole intermezzo whispered between chuckles, causing Lord Ambrose to focus on him again.

"Why did I accept this mission…?" the lady in the far end muttered in a dejected voice and propped up her head with three fingers on her forehead.

"Please do not mind us," Lord Grandpa spoke up next and gestured for Lord Barnabas to sit down. "We are only here to observe this meeting, and Lord Gulliver overstepped his boundaries by commenting on the proceedings. It will not happen again."

"I understand that, but…" Naoren spoke up next, and after looking over the five senior arch-mages, each of them roughly the diplomatic equivalent of sending an aircraft carrier to the negotiations, he let out a disappointed sigh.

Maybe because the Assembly was considered to be the de-facto superpower of the supernatural world, he expected them to be more professional, but bearing in mind that I was already exposed to our perma-scheming local arch-mage, as well as Saahira/Sahi… Well, let's just say that my evaluation of the Magi in general, and arch-mages in particular, was already under the bottom of the barrel, so their behaviour could hardly surprise me.

"Let us return to the discussion we started," Roland spoke up, ignoring the still bickering Lord Ambrose and Lord Gulliver in the background, and he faced the heads of the Council on the platform. "As of this moment, Sir Percival's whereabouts are unknown, but considering that his room was also missing a bed, we are currently working under the assumption that a third party was involved in his disappearance."

"Please, hold on. Did you say his bed also disappeared?" Lord Grandpa cut in, contradicting his previous declaration, but nobody seemed to mind.

"Indeed," Arnwald responded before Roland could. "Is there something about this detail that's bothering you, Lord Endymonion?"

"In a matter of speaking, yes," the old man answered and patted down his neatly trimmed beard. "I have some experience with mysteriously vanishing furniture, so I feel obliged to ask; have you ascertained that the bed in question is truly missing, or may be hidden by an illusion?"

"An illusion spell?" The only female arch-mage present perked up at the mention of it, and she looked intrigued for the first time since she entered the assembly hall. "It could certainly be done, but even if the physical form of the item is hidden, it should be easily discovered by touch or a simple dispelling incantation."

"I have shared your sentiment in the past, Lord Taika, but my personal experiences tell me that sufficiently advanced illusions may fool not only your five senses but your very perception of reality and memories of it. We should not dismiss the possibility so easily."

"If so…" All of a sudden, Lord Barnabas stood up again and gave another bow towards the elevated area. "I would like to formally request the Council to allow us to inspect the scene of the crime. Lord Taika is rather famous for her expertise in the field of applied illusion spellcraft, and with her help, we may help discover clues the Ordo Draconis have overlooked."

Naoren didn't seem convinced, but he still glanced over to Arnwald, and after a long beat, our senior Knight let out an appreciative hum.

"We would certainly appreciate any support you could provide us. Discovering the whereabouts of Sir Percival is our foremost priority. Let us discuss the details after this meeting."

"Thank you."

With that, Lord Barnabas sat down, and Roland spoke up, trying to stick to the script for the third time.

"With all due respect to the Assembly delegation, while I also welcome any assistance you could provide, I'm afraid you won't find any traces of illusions in Sir Percival's room."

"What makes you say that?" another voice called out, this time the older Smok brother sitting in the second row to the right.

"We already have a culprit in mind, and his involvement would easily explain the strange case of the missing bed as well."

Oh, that was my cue! I quickly rolled my shoulders, made sure the enchantments on my mini-shoggoth secured mask were working properly, and after giving a thumbs up to Karukk and Vurrok, I Phased to the back of the assembly hall and quietly took one of the empty seats. I inhaled a deep breath, and let the familiar sense of pre-performance tension wash over me before I leaned back on the bench and clapped my hands.

"Don't keep us in suspense, old chap!" I exclaimed, my voice slightly amplified to make sure it would carry over the background buzz of the noisy chamber. "Who's this covert crib-crook? This malevolent mattress-marauder? This baneful baldachin-brigand? Oh, the anticipation is killing me!"

The confused silence following in the wake of my interruption was palpable. Once the initial shock passed, some of the Draconian representatives sitting in my general vicinity jumped to their feet and backed off, like a bunch of antelopes who just realized they were laying about right next to a lion. As for me, I remained still and locked eyes with Roland on the pulpit.

Our Sir Griffon's face feigned surprise, but his eyes were saying 'What took you this long?'. I had no idea why though; we had a script, and I was sticking to it. As I alluded to before, a stage magician's performance was difficult, and it often required them to 'cheat' a little for maximum effect. Such as planting collaborators into the crowd. However, for the trick to work and fool everyone, both sides had to perform their jobs as rehearsed, and while I could understand Roland's impatience, considering his surroundings, rushing things was off the table from the start.

Once we let my presence ripple through the room, I dramatically glanced around and uttered a confused, "What? You all act like you've never seen me before! How rude!"

"Bel of the Abyss."

Roland's words made everyone tense up, and I used the opportunity to focus on him again.

"I'm glad you recognize me, Sir Roland! I mean, how can anyone forget a handsome face like this!" I raised both hands and pointed at my mask, and after holding the pose for a second, I abruptly snapped my finger. "Hooold on a second! Did you just answer my previous question?"

Before Roland could respond, I leaned forward in my seat, so that when I Phased over to the front of the Council, I would land on my feet and could stand tall right away. For further emphasis, I raised my hands again and made three measured claps.

"Good job! You figured it out! I'd give you a cookie, but I ran out of those on the way here. Moving through dimensional barriers makes me mighty peckish!"

"So it was you!" Arnwald exclaimed and automatically donned his Uniformer, though since he had no weapon, it was mostly for show. I hoped. His attacking me wasn't factored into the script. "What have you done to Sir Percival, fiend!?"

"Now, now. Don't get your panties in a twist, Sir Chicken-With-Good-Publicity. He's still alive and well. Mostly well." I punctuated that by pinching my chin and tilting my head. "Also, mostly alive. Or at least he was the last time I checked. He's kinda old, you know?"

"Enough with this!" Naoren burst out, and although he was unaware of the performance, I more or less expected something like this to happen. "For what reason did you kidnap him?"

"Oh, you must be Naoren Feilong!" I exclaimed and pointed a pair of finger guns at him. "I've heard a lot about you from the kid! Mostly along the lines of 'Don't kill him for a joke!'and 'Seriously, don't!'. Hah! He's so funny, thinking he can tell me what I can do! Such a riot!"

"Sir Patriarchs, let me handle this," Roland cut in and showed his palm to the group on the platform, and after sharing a glance, Naoren stood down, dad-in-law folded his arms, and even Arnwald took his seat again. Nodding, Roland turned back to me and said, "The Feilong Patriarch's question was valid. Why did you take Sir Percival?"

"And his bed!" Lord Gulliver interjected on the side, only to receive an elbow into his guts by Lord Ambrose and keel over.

By the looks of it, the five Assembly representatives decided to wait and observe the situation unfold for now, which suited my needs. As such, I ignored them for the time being and focused on Roland.

"Oh, come on, Sir Griffon! You're smarter than that! I'm sure you must've figured it out by now!"

There was a customary pause in the conversation to let the audience digest what was happening, and then he answered, "You have taken him to find out about the whereabouts of Leonard."

"You see! I knew you had it in you!" I exclaimed and lowered my center of gravity so that when I Phased right above the pulpit, I landed sitting on it. I've been perfecting this trick ever since I first used it to bamboozle the Knights in their little hideout, and I've been getting pretty good at it. Once I was seated stably, I crossed my legs, and rested my chin on my fist before continuing in a more serious voice, "You know, I have said this so many times, but the only thing I want is for my island to stay nice and stable while I do my own things and take care of my own business. Imagine how miffed I was when I come back from my customary bullying of the space-time-continuum, just to hear that the kid was kidnapped by Abyssals! Except, you know, I would know about something like that, so I figured there was something more afoot! A conspiracy!"

Pausing, I turned around on top of the pulpit to face Roland again.

"You know, I love a good conspiracy, but only when I'm involved. Otherwise, I can never know if they are real or not. Like this one time, I spent two weeks trying to find those famous reptilian alien overlords I've heard so much about, only for it to turn out to be just some tall tale by a Great Depression era crook and made popular by a bunch of image compression artifacts! I tell you, my disappointment was immeasurable, and my day was ruined!" I let out a loud huff, and then a long beat later I cocked my head to the side and asked, "What were we talking about?"

"Sir Percival," Roland said in a tone that told me he thought I was overdoing it, but I had a brand to uphold, so I summarily ignored him and let out an amused noise.

"Ah, right! That guy!" Jumping off the pulpit, this time I Phased to the back of the room, and turned on the voice amplification on my mask again, so that everyone could hear me as I began pacing. "You see, I figured he was up to no good, so I borrowed him for a while to ask him a few pertinent questions, which led me to some Abyssals, who then pointed me in the direction of some Celestials, and then I finally found the kid!"

"You know where Leonard Dunning is right now?" Yseult, the representative of the Albions, called out to me, and while I normally would've been annoyed by this kind of interruption, Roland was supposed to ask the same thing to keep the act going, so I decided to just roll with it.

"Of course I do! Why else do you think I'm here? You think just any fool can ask me to make a delivery for them and expect their head to remain attached to the rest of their body?" I stopped in my tracks and pinched my chin, musing, "Now that I think about it, he's totally taking advantage of me, doesn't he? Shouldn't have promised him that I won't kill him. I should've been more specific, like telling him that I wouldn't throw him off a bridge. That would've left me with more wriggling room."

Another beat later, I Phased to the middle of the room again and clapped, then waited for everyone to turn to me again.

"A-ny-how! I'm not going to explain myself. I'll let the kid do that. I'll just…" While muttering so, I theatrically patted down my petty coat and turned out my pockets. "Aw shucks, I forgot something! I'll be right back, don't go anywhere!"

Without waiting for the reaction, I immediately Phased back to the dockyard hideout and lifted off my mask. As I did, Vurrok was already holding out an open bottle of water for me, and I downed it more or less in one go. Hydration was important, but not as vital as the box in Karukk's hands, and after I emptied the bottle and put the mask back on, I grabbed it and gave them another thumbs up.

A second later, I was already back in the noisy assembly hall, and to announce my presence, I raised the small, black wooden box over my head, and smashed it down onto the pulpit in front of me, making the majority of the people in the room jump in surprise. Even Roland pretended to be startled, which wasn't strictly necessary, but I admired his will to go the whole mile all the same.

"Here!" I declared, and flipped the lid open, revealing a familiar crystal ball in the middle. "Take it over, kid."

Soon, the Celestial communicator lit up, thanks to some prodding from my phantom limbs, and a blue holographic image of my own head appeared floating over it.

"Is this thing on?" hologram-me asked, and while normally only the receiver could hear it, I had sneakily tied the communicator into the loudspeaker system of the assembly hall, so that it sounded like the voice was coming from everywhere at once. The face looked around, and after a long beat, it turned in my direction (roughly) and added, "Is this the conference room of the Draconic Federation?"

"It sure is!" I exclaimed enthusiastically, causing the face floating over the crystal ball to let out a stifled groan.

"Ugh. I told you to deliver this in private!"

"You can't tell me what to do! You're not the boss of me!" I huffed while sidling to the side a little, so that our gazes would line up.

Hologram-me rolled his eyes, and after a suspenseful beat, turned to the rest of the people in the room.

"Good day, everyone. I think I owe you an explanation."

And with that, it was time for the curtain to rise on today's main attraction. We had everything we could ask for. The rapt attention of the audience, a group of skeptics in the front row, for added authenticity, a collaborator to make everything go smoothly, and of course, a flamboyant masked magician on stage. What a show, am I right?