The days that followed manifested one problem following another. In the beginning there were smaller tasks uniting in their common goal to steal all my precious time it seemed. I knew now how it felt to be robbed..

However I could not begin to conceive what investments were to be made in me, and how fatal they would be.

As if my duties from the house were not keeping me occupied enough, sister Noixiata had begun sending orders in form of discreet letters to me. Smaller tasks to keep the chapel and it's small staff in order. She also included a letter with a sincere promise that soon she would relieve me of the chapel duties, if all went as planned.

Among all these, there were two tasks which were very unusual. The first one seemed at first a be regular reconnaissance task. The guardsmen were holding an anniversary festival. Apparently I had to attend. For most of the days I were to be unseen as usual in my tasks, however she had one request which would deny me my discreet abilities. For all of the days of the festival I would have to deliver a report. However, for the one with the great brawl, I should also make a painting she insisted. She knew I was not anything nearly as proficient with a brush as our previous clientèle, but who was I to refuse.

There were some instructions of how I was to proceed with this painting, they were rather specific. I was to use a special paint color palette contained within the chapel. It was imperative that I would also use a brush the previous chapel artist obviously did not need anymore. The canvas would be delivered to the chapel by packhorse from Vesper by a loyal courier and the packhorse would be at my disposal afterwards until I had brought back the painting.

On something that seemed almost to be a side note, it included a message to consume the potion exactly one hour before the painting were to commence. Curious, but she always knew what she wanted it seemed. I pondered which potion for a while.

With the possibilities already presented by the house which sister Noixiata had placed so much trust, I would do anything requested of me.

All went exactly as planned and I managed somehow to paint it seemed. My memory of the process is very blurred, I am especially confused by some numbers I remember painting but I can't see them on the canvas anymore. The numbers were assigned to the contestants of the brawl individually in a fashion I was not quite sure of the dynamics behind. I looked at my notes afterwards, but they surprisingly look very disorganized to me at this moment. I later tried to make a copy with same brush and paint, with utter failure.

Returning home, the courier casually dressed but ready for travel, stood ready with a very small ship on the shoreline on the path to the chapel from the gates. He had a rather large box for the painting ready, in which it was loaded safely together with the report. He gave me a potion which a had a small note attached to it's cork with an elegant clear script saying, "Drink". Smiling politely, he took off immediately after securing his cargo and preparing his small vessel for travel again.

I felt the urge to sleep and carried myself back to the chapel cellars and into my room were I collapsed.

The anniversary was an apparent delight to the guests, at least I can be sure of the days except for the brawl. I was quite amused myself due to the relaxed atmosphere and perhaps the conveniently loosely tied pouches.



That was the first task.

The second was to deliver a letter, although not in any regular fashion..