“Nevertheless, it still doesn’t change the fact that Alethea had decided to betray us,” Shintra declared. “Oh, I know how we don’t want to talk about it, but we might as well get it out. It’s pointless to avoid the subject any longer.”
Hessin glanced over at Kejuta. “He’s right. We need to figure out what to do about this situation.”
“I still can’t believe she would abandon us,” Oraji said softly.
“Yeah, I would never expect her,” Lanskas agreed.
“It’s so hard to fathom that our dear Alethea decided to go against your orders, Kejuta,” the Duermon commented, shaking his head. “Causing anarchy in Anka and then fleeing in Doran… You must have done something to cause her to suddenly become disobedient. Perhaps you gave her too much freedom to do as she pleases. If I were you, I would punish her severely for her insubordination so she would think twice of it.”
Everyone waited for her response. What the Ilmarian of Souls said was true. Alethea did disobey orders so she needs to be punished for it. The Ilmarian of Fate just stared at Shintra for the longest time before she finally said, “I don’t think Thea intentionally disobeyed orders. I guess this is the best time for this, but I’ve come to believe that we may have been compromised.”
A confused look appeared on almost everyone’s faces when she said it. Only Zen didn’t seem surprised by her announcement; a grim expression was on his face. “What do you mean?” Hessin slowly asked.
“Remember how I asked to see your messenger birds to me as well as my replies to you?” Everyone nodded. Who doesn’t? When she first made that request, Torryn thought it was strange. Why would she be interested in their old correspondence? Kejuta took a deep breath and continued, “For the past twelve years, it appeared that someone has been impersonating us and sending false messenger birds. That same person pretended to be me and sent false orders to Alethea, which explained why she didn’t respond to us after the Ankan incident.”
As soon as she said that, everyone was in an uproar. Shouts and screams echoed through the room that it was difficult to hear what another person said. Some of them even stood up as they stared at Kejuta with disbelief. “Wait, Alethea didn’t go rogue!?” Torryn blurted out.
“False messenger birds? How could it be possible?” Marika breathed.
“How can you be so sure?” Hessin wondered.
Kejuta simply raised her hand, which silenced them and caused them to sit back down. “I think it’s best if Zentran explains since he was the first one to discover it.”
The Ilmarian of Seasons scratched his head as everyone turned their attention toward him. “When I went to see Thea in Doran, she claimed that Kej sent her to Anka and even showed me the messenger bird to prove it,” he began. “Even though I knew it wasn’t from Kej, it still looked believable since it was in her handwriting. I then showed Thea a letter that I supposedly got from her, but she told me that she didn’t write it. Afterward, we cross-checked every messenger birds that we sent to each other to determine how long the charade lasts. That’s how we know it began twelve years ago.”
“Which is why I asked to see the messenger birds between you and me,” Kejuta continued. “I wanted to make sure that our letters to each other were authentic.”
“And?” Pendance inquired.
“They were legitimate.”
“But I don’t understand,” Adia said, shaking her head in disbelief. “How was someone able to forge our handwriting and pretend to be us? I thought the messenger birds would be safe due to the encryption.”
The Ilmarian of Fate admitted, “I don’t know either, but what I do know is that we have been compromised. That’s why I want you to meet with each other afterward to compare messenger birds just to make sure your letters to each other are real. Discard any messages for the past twelve years from Alethea since those are most likely from the impostor.”
They nodded. “But I do have one question, Kej,” Aundra said aloud and looked at her curiously. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? If I have known, maybe I could use my magic to try to trace the false messenger birds to the imposter and put an end to it.”
Everyone glanced at Kejuta, who seemed hesitant. Finally, she confessed, “The reason I didn’t tell you earlier was that I didn’t know who the imposter could be. It could be anyone – even one of us. That’s why I didn’t inform you as soon as I found out. I wasn’t sure who to trust.”
An eerie silence filled the room. All around her, Torryn could see that uncertainty was on everyone’s faces. If that were true, then they may accidentally reveal a secret to that person, who then may use it against them. Would one of them really pull such a ruse? Shintra took umbrage when he noticed that most of them were eyeing him. “Don’t look at me,” Shintra retorted. “Alethea never respond to me so I would know nothing about how to impersonate her.”
They immediately shifted their eyes away as they muttered to the person next to them. Torryn knew why. Of course, they felt guilty for immediately thinking of him, but who would blame them? After all, Shintra was the one who used to hold a grudge with Alethea and Kejuta. Everyone knows that. Nevertheless, an air of suspicion lingered.
As she watched the people around her talked amongst themselves, she caught Weiss’s attention. “You can trust me,” he reassured her, gesturing discreetly. “No one else knows about our secret twin language.” She nodded though she wasn’t reassured. She could definitely trust her brother, but who else could she trust?
Hessin glanced over at Kejuta. “He’s right. We need to figure out what to do about this situation.”
“I still can’t believe she would abandon us,” Oraji said softly.
“Yeah, I would never expect her,” Lanskas agreed.
“It’s so hard to fathom that our dear Alethea decided to go against your orders, Kejuta,” the Duermon commented, shaking his head. “Causing anarchy in Anka and then fleeing in Doran… You must have done something to cause her to suddenly become disobedient. Perhaps you gave her too much freedom to do as she pleases. If I were you, I would punish her severely for her insubordination so she would think twice of it.”
Everyone waited for her response. What the Ilmarian of Souls said was true. Alethea did disobey orders so she needs to be punished for it. The Ilmarian of Fate just stared at Shintra for the longest time before she finally said, “I don’t think Thea intentionally disobeyed orders. I guess this is the best time for this, but I’ve come to believe that we may have been compromised.”
A confused look appeared on almost everyone’s faces when she said it. Only Zen didn’t seem surprised by her announcement; a grim expression was on his face. “What do you mean?” Hessin slowly asked.
“Remember how I asked to see your messenger birds to me as well as my replies to you?” Everyone nodded. Who doesn’t? When she first made that request, Torryn thought it was strange. Why would she be interested in their old correspondence? Kejuta took a deep breath and continued, “For the past twelve years, it appeared that someone has been impersonating us and sending false messenger birds. That same person pretended to be me and sent false orders to Alethea, which explained why she didn’t respond to us after the Ankan incident.”
As soon as she said that, everyone was in an uproar. Shouts and screams echoed through the room that it was difficult to hear what another person said. Some of them even stood up as they stared at Kejuta with disbelief. “Wait, Alethea didn’t go rogue!?” Torryn blurted out.
“False messenger birds? How could it be possible?” Marika breathed.
“How can you be so sure?” Hessin wondered.
Kejuta simply raised her hand, which silenced them and caused them to sit back down. “I think it’s best if Zentran explains since he was the first one to discover it.”
The Ilmarian of Seasons scratched his head as everyone turned their attention toward him. “When I went to see Thea in Doran, she claimed that Kej sent her to Anka and even showed me the messenger bird to prove it,” he began. “Even though I knew it wasn’t from Kej, it still looked believable since it was in her handwriting. I then showed Thea a letter that I supposedly got from her, but she told me that she didn’t write it. Afterward, we cross-checked every messenger birds that we sent to each other to determine how long the charade lasts. That’s how we know it began twelve years ago.”
“Which is why I asked to see the messenger birds between you and me,” Kejuta continued. “I wanted to make sure that our letters to each other were authentic.”
“And?” Pendance inquired.
“They were legitimate.”
“But I don’t understand,” Adia said, shaking her head in disbelief. “How was someone able to forge our handwriting and pretend to be us? I thought the messenger birds would be safe due to the encryption.”
The Ilmarian of Fate admitted, “I don’t know either, but what I do know is that we have been compromised. That’s why I want you to meet with each other afterward to compare messenger birds just to make sure your letters to each other are real. Discard any messages for the past twelve years from Alethea since those are most likely from the impostor.”
They nodded. “But I do have one question, Kej,” Aundra said aloud and looked at her curiously. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier? If I have known, maybe I could use my magic to try to trace the false messenger birds to the imposter and put an end to it.”
Everyone glanced at Kejuta, who seemed hesitant. Finally, she confessed, “The reason I didn’t tell you earlier was that I didn’t know who the imposter could be. It could be anyone – even one of us. That’s why I didn’t inform you as soon as I found out. I wasn’t sure who to trust.”
An eerie silence filled the room. All around her, Torryn could see that uncertainty was on everyone’s faces. If that were true, then they may accidentally reveal a secret to that person, who then may use it against them. Would one of them really pull such a ruse? Shintra took umbrage when he noticed that most of them were eyeing him. “Don’t look at me,” Shintra retorted. “Alethea never respond to me so I would know nothing about how to impersonate her.”
They immediately shifted their eyes away as they muttered to the person next to them. Torryn knew why. Of course, they felt guilty for immediately thinking of him, but who would blame them? After all, Shintra was the one who used to hold a grudge with Alethea and Kejuta. Everyone knows that. Nevertheless, an air of suspicion lingered.
As she watched the people around her talked amongst themselves, she caught Weiss’s attention. “You can trust me,” he reassured her, gesturing discreetly. “No one else knows about our secret twin language.” She nodded though she wasn’t reassured. She could definitely trust her brother, but who else could she trust?