"Catching the Believers of Lies is simple, but what's more important than catching them is learning from this entire affair... I said, be quiet!"
An invisible aura of fear exploded outwards, an indescribable panic that blood from the depths of their hearts, compelling everyone to fall silent. The process was instantaneous, a hush so profound it was as if everyone in the hall had been struck dead.
Jenkins humd, satisfied with the current state of affairs. The cat, which had been dozing on the table, lifted its head to look at him, quite fond of this side of the author.
A subtle trick was all it took to silence the room completely. Jenkins didn't lower his voice; instead, he continued in that sa powerful, resonant tone:
"The ti has co. The rise of the steam industry has turned our world upside down in the span of a re century. The massive accumulation and flow of capital has not only transford our cities and countryside and changed every single person's life, but it has also amassed a great deal of conflict and corruption. The ti for change is now. In the normal course of history, these tensions would have taken much longer to be noticed and understood. But now, the Believers of Lies have recklessly prodded the beast of finance. Their actions will fully unleash the malice embodied by capital and finance.
I am calling for reform. We who live in this era stand at a critical juncture. The developnt of the world for the next several hundred years will depend entirely on us. I believe it is ti for further fiscal and banking reform."
His words were t with nods of approval, but soone still shouted:
"But who are the Believers of Lies?"
Jenkins ignored the question and continued.
"As the heir to the Middleton family, I have a duty to help this nation move forward. In the days to co, I expect you will see more often in the papers. I will do everything in my power to bring about change in the Fidektri Kingdom's treasury and banking sectors."
"Viscount, are you saying you intend to enter politics?"
This ti, Jenkins saw clearly who had asked. It was a nobleman who had accompanied Queen Isabella from Bel Diran, and the question was loaded with intent.
"Yes, I plan to—"
"Oh, Viscount, but who are the Believers of Lies?"
He had wanted to elaborate on his vision for reform, but the next question once again dragged the topic back to the identity of the cultists. Jenkins knew soone didn't want him expressing his political views in such a venue, so he let it go and repeated his earlier point:
"The Believers of Lies are among us. As I said earlier, they would surely co to hear this speech. When the lecture began, I had the mayor seal the city hall, not just to prevent information from leaking, but also to keep the Believers of Lies from escaping. Take a look around you. The one person whom nobody recognizes is the Believer of Lies."
He glanced out the window again, clearly seeing the distant green pinpoint of light. Even from such a great distance, the life spirit of their shared World Tree connection was palpable. A bronze bird circling high above sent him a more detailed image. It was a stalemate over there; Sigrid was about to loose her arrow.
"Sigrid should be fine, but it's better to be safe."
He thought to himself, then looked down at Alexia. Understanding his aning, she stood up and left the hall. The gesture wasn't particularly eye-catching, as more than one person had abruptly stood up to scan their surroundings after Jenkins declared the culprit was a stranger. The scene had once again devolved into chaos.
"Alright, gentlen—oh, and ladies. Please, quiet down. I reviewed the files of all invited guests beforehand. Moreover, from my position up here, I have the clearest view of everyone. I've already found him, so please, all of you, take your seats."
"Who is it?"
More than one person asked.
Jenkins raised a hand and pointed directly at the man sitting in the very last row of the tiered lecture hall, the Lifelike Illusion he had left behind.
"I imagine no one here recognizes this man."
The collective motion of everyone turning their heads was so swift it created a sound of its own, but it was drowned out by gasps of surprise:
"Why is it a man?"
An interesting question, Jenkins noted. Since he was on the stage, the "Believer of Lies" he had pointed to remained motionless, still sitting there.
If not for the fact that his face was visible, and his posture was nothing like that of a carefully arranged corpse, people might have mistaken him for a re substitute.
The mayor summoned the police into the lecture hall, and they surrounded the back row. People began to stand up, eager to get a look at this "Believer of Lies" with their own eyes.
Though they were certainly disappointed that it wasn't "Miss Fabry," the chance to confirm that this person was indeed one of the "legendary" Believers of Lies—even if he turned out to be a mouse—was enough to give them sothing to excitedly talk about for years to co.
"Sir, do you admit who you are?"
Jenkins asked under the watchful eyes of the entire room. The lecture hall was quieter now than it had been just monts before. Everyone held their breath, wanting to see what Jenkins would say next, and wanting to know what would happen when Williams, the man who had twice exposed the Believers of Lies, finally confronted one of them face to face.
"Sir, silence won't do you any good now. Do you admit who you are?"
Jenkins questioned his own shadow, then smoothly activated the talisman he had dropped at its feet. A thick cloud of white mist billowed up from under the "Believer of Lies," instantly engulfing the figure.
The police officers who had already surrounded the back row imdiately rushed forward. But of course, they grabbed at nothing. It took Jenkins no ti at all to dispel the Lifelike Illusion.
"Don't worry, he hasn't left. Everyone, stay in your seats and do not move. The Believer of Lies is still among you."
Once people had settled back down and the police in the back row stood frozen in place, Jenkins scanned the audience and saw Magic Miss give him a subtle "ready" signal.
Soone, sowhere, snapped their fingers. With a sharp bang, all the windows in the room slamd shut. A series of tallic clicks followed as the doors and windows were locked, and the heavy, light-blocking curtains drew themselves closed. The gaslights on the walls then began to dim, but before anyone could cry out in alarm, Jenkins had already lit the kerosene lamp he'd brought with him and placed it on the lectern before him.
The kerosene lamp was originally ant to be used as a prop during his speech, but he hadn't been there for that part. Still, since it was in the original script, no one would question why he had a lamp ready.
Jenkins left nothing to chance.
Even with the lamp, low murmurs filled the dimly lit hall. Using the spiritual magnets that Magic Miss had placed in various corners, Jenkins projected an image of himself into the darkest part of the room.
For the mont, the only light source was the kerosene lamp in the real Jenkins's hand, and all eyes were fixed on it. He slipped on a black robe and, in a flash, selected one of a thousand possible forms. He took a deep breath.
"Yes. I am indeed a Believer of Lies."
An uproar spread like ripples in a calm pond. The sudden woman's voice pushed the day's "good show" to its absolute climax.
People instantly understood the significance of that voice and spun around to find its source.
And in that mont of distraction, the real Jenkins canceled the projection. He picked up his cat and the lamp and, under everyone's gaze, walked toward the corner. His footsteps echoed with a rhythmic, thunderous weight on the floorboards. It was the corner to the left of the lectern, but when Jenkins approached and raised the kerosene lamp, it was, of course, completely empty.
The warm yellow light cast the shadow of his arm against the wall.
Because of Jenkins's earlier command, no one dared to stand and pull back the curtains. For now, the only light in the room was the single kerosene lamp in his hand, and everyone could only stare at that spot.
"You are a Believer of Lies? Then what should I call you?"
Finding no one, Jenkins asked again, holding the lamp aloft.
As the lamp moved, a new dark corner was created, a temporary blind spot. Projecting himself there once more, Jenkins again donned the black robe, shifted his appearance hundreds of tis in the blink of an eye, and settled on the form of a young woman.
"I am Honest Fabry."
The voice declared from the darkness. The low murmurs grew louder, but this ti, they were filled not with fear, but with astonishnt and curiosity.
In this manner, Miss Fabry made her first-ever appearance before the public. It not only proved that the woman truly existed, but it also marked her first confrontation with Jenkins. No matter what happened, the events of this day would be rembered for many, many years.
Canceling the projection, Jenkins cleared his throat. He began moving toward the spot where the voice had co from, continuing his performance.
"How interesting. A mont ago, it was a man, and now a woman. It seems you are truly masters of disguise... No, this is a trap. You want people to think 'Fabry' is ever-changing, a true faceless woman. But I suspect more than one of you snuck into this lecture, didn't you? Was that your accomplice just now? Your thods are truly brilliant!"
As he spoke, he moved to get closer to where the woman's voice had been, lamp in hand. But a press photographer was faster. The instantaneous flash of light made everyone squint, but they all saw that the space in front of the curtain was empty.
The photograph, capturing nothing but an empty, dimly lit space under the stark white light of the magnesium flash, would beco the most iconic and ironic front-page headline.
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