The Sorrows of Miss Crate

I was terrified she'd be punished for her brother's crime. So I hid her in a water barrel, hoping the Legion wouldn't find her.

In the end, Sig was caught. And the officer's daughter... all they found was her charred remains in the rubble.

The officer was enraged. He didn't even wait for a trial, he executed Sig with his own hands. As for Violet... I gave her all the bounty money and smuggled her out of Icelake, praying she'd get away from all this.

I still remember her face when she left, worn thin by sickness, but her eyes were burning with fury. She was wearing this violet ribbon that day...

She said she'd leave Icelake for good. Said she never wanted to see me again.

And who could blame her? I was the drunk who doomed a friend and the coward whose fear cost two innocent lives. Why would anyone want to see me again?

You're right.

Yeah! You just did what you thought was right, Uncle Donat!

That's what they all say. But it doesn't change the fact that two innocent lives were gone because of me.

After that, I got really sick. Then I started doing what I could to help others, trying to make things right. I thought... maybe each good deed could chip away at my sins.

But still... I see Sig in my dreams, glaring at me in rage. I hear poor Enola screaming as the fire takes her. They say no kindness to the living will ever buy forgiveness from the dead.

Violet... is that why you came back to Icelake? Because you still can't forgive me... just like I never could?

Have you come to put me out of my misery...?

Uncle Donat!? Are you alright!?

Whew... he's fine. Looks like he just fainted from exhaustion and stress. Keep an eye on him, don't let him wander off again.

Mm. I'll get the others, we'll take care of him together.

Um... can I ask you something, miss?

What is it?

Do you think... Uncle Donat is a bad person?

So that's what you think... I see. Thank you, miss! This is for you, I saved it up for a long time!

(That violet ribbon... it must've been left by Violet at Sig's grave.)

(Sixteen years... she'd be in her thirties by now. Has she really returned? Maybe I should ask around when I get the chance.)

Another restless night... no peace for the weary!

O, wretched soul, do you too wander these icy halls, chasing the distant gleam, yearning for love and a starlit dream?

Da... Da da...

Who's there!?

Oh, pardon me. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm right here, five steps ahead. Yes, just here.

A good evening to you, sleepless one.

It's not just you. I really am talking.

Must there be someone hiding inside? Can't a crate simply... talk?

Sorry, I'm just a plain old crate. I don't grant wishes.

But... how can a crate talk?

If you must ask, tell me this: what's harder, singing or speaking?

Singing, I suppose.

Little music boxes can sing, simply wind a key and out comes a melody. Since speaking's easier than singing, and I'm larger and better made than any music box...

Why shouldn't I be able to talk to you, just as you're talking to me?

But...

I understand, you're confused.

People think crates shouldn't talk, like hollow trees, only echoing back your voice. But be honest with yourself: wouldn't you want a crate that actually answers?

You didn't pry me open straight away. That means... part of you wanted me to speak, didn't it?

...

Seems like you've come to terms with it. So, will you stay a while and talk?

What do you want to talk about?

Hmm... how about the opera at the Galea Theatre, two nights ago?

It was called Putini. Did you see it? What did you think of the lead's voice?

I'm just a crate, after all. I can't go to the theatre.

Sorry, I didn't see it.

That's all right. No one's blaming you. But you should see it someday, it's a beautiful piece. The heroine, Putini, she's radiant, kind... and brave enough to chase her freedom.

I want to be like her. But I'm just a crate.

So, I made a decision.

What is it?

I want to set sail. Who says crates must stay on street corners? A crate could become a boat, drifting on the tide... I want to feel the sea wind, rough with salt and sand.

But leaving here means losing everything I have.

To leave the cage... is to leave the shelter. And freedom, well, that means stepping into the unknown.

So tell me, my friend... what do you think I should do?

...You're right.

Thank you for keeping a lonely crate company, kind soul. Dawn is close... and with it, the magic in these old timbers begins to fade.

May every sleepless night you face... no, may all your nights be filled with peaceful dreams.

(What just happened...? That voice in the crate somehow steered the whole conversation.)

(It's probably some local kid messing around... but I can't just leave it. I should ask around.)

Excuse me... who are you? You've been hanging around my place for a while.

Looking to hire someone? I take all kinds of commissions, tracking, foraging, courier work, so long as it's legal.

Commission?

Huh? So you're not here to hire me?

Alright. I guess Camilla oversold it..."Giselle the Phoxhunter" isn't exactly a household name.

Giselle the Phoxhunter... yeah, that does sound familiar.

Thanks, but you don't have to say that just to make me feel better.

No no, I mean it...

So, a crate behind my house struck up a conversation and suggested you watch an opera. Got it.

...

That's... not quite the reaction I was expecting.

No? Well, that's me. Whether it's a kid in a box or a box with a voice, either way, I've seen stranger.

Thanks for letting me know. I'll ask around.

Oh, wait, you're Vita, right? You've made a bit of a name for yourself among the Phoxhunters.

Thought so. Good to see my instincts aren't getting rusty.

Relax. Talented newcomers like you don't stay under the radar for long.

Bit on the nose... but certainly hard to forget.

If you're free, I could use a hand.

I need a few herbs, I'll give you the list. Just drop them at The Asphodel once you're done. Camilla will be holding your payment.

You don't want them delivered here?

No. The Asphodel's fine.

(This should do it.)

(These herbs... they're just common types. Why would a Phoxhunter like Giselle ask me to gather them? She could've easily done it herself.)

(Come to think of it... she was acting a little strange.)

(Better drop these off at The Asphodel. Maybe Camilla knows what's going on.)

Afternoon. Here for a drink, or looking for a gig?

Just here to drop something off. Giselle asked me to deliver these.

Giselle? She was here earlier, actually left something for you. But... something felt off. What exactly did she ask you to do?

...

What is it? Something wrong?

The job itself checks out... but her reason for it doesn't.

Those are just common herbs for colds. She could've picked them herself before breakfast, no need to hire help.

She did mention she's a Phoxhunter herself.

Mm. She used to be a Captain in the Escort, left sixteen years ago after a falling-out with her superior over a case. Now she's a Phoxhunter. Sharp, skilled, well-respected in the trade.

Anyway... no point overthinking it. The job's valid, and she did leave you something. I won't pry.

Here, this is for you.

This is... the payment. And a letter?

Looks like you made an interesting friend. I bet there's a good story there.

Not really. Honestly... I'm still not sure what actually happened.

Putini...

Does that name mean anything to you?

Not by itself. But didn't that voice in the crate mention an opera that just played at the theatre?

Yeah, she even asked how the lead did.

Funny thing, that. There's been some talk in the tavern...

One of the regulars caught the dress rehearsal for Putini. Said the lead wasn't the same actress who performed on opening night.

They said the rehearsal lead was younger, even more talented. But in the end, the role went to the usual star.

You mean...

It's just hearsay. Nothing solid to connect these dots.

Still... if you've got time, maybe dig a little deeper. I'd like to know the truth too.

(So Camilla's in the dark too... But one thing's for sure, Giselle was acting strange.)

(That girl in the crate... could she have been the one from the dress rehearsal? And if so, did Giselle know the whole time?)

(...No use guessing. I'll have to ask Giselle myself.)

I told you so, I've been saying this from the start!

We never should've hired that dubious woman as a tutor! And we never should've let Rosalind take those blasted singing lessons!

You were the one who said she needed something to keep her busy, so she wouldn't be out roaming around all day!

I meant something to keep her home, not something that'd send her running off again and getting herself kidnapped!

And you Escort grunts, what use are you!? We finally had a lead, and you lot were too slow, now the kidnappers are gone!

...

Ugh, why am I even wasting my breath on imbeciles like you? I'll find my daughter myself!

...Phew. He's finally gone.

Please stay back, this area's off-limits.

Sorry, I heard yelling. Is everything okay?

We received a report of a kidnapping. The victim was supposedly held here, but the place was already empty when we arrived.

This property's on lockdown. If you're just here out of curiosity, I'll have to ask you to move along.

Who were those two just now?

The victim's parents, the Earl and Countess of Magnus. I get that they're worried, but they really do live up to their reputation...

Word is they were always breathing down their daughter's neck. Maybe Miss Rosalind ran off just to get some air...

Ahem... that's enough gossip. If you have any information, please report it to the Escort.

(Giselle and Miss Crate... they're both gone.)

(A kidnapping... could it have something to do with that letter Giselle left at the tavern?)

(No leads for now. Guess I'll just have to stay sharp and see what turns up.)

Da... Da da...

(So much has happened in Icelake these past few days... and now, there's even been a kidnapping.)

(Now that I think about it, some of these events might be more closely connected than they seemed.)

(Time to lay everything out... and start connecting the dots.)

(There was more to the kidnapping sixteen years ago... and Violetta may be the one who knows the truth. Giselle took her student just to force a meeting.)

(If my deductions are right, she should be with Violetta right now.)

(The letter mentioned the location. I need to hurry... let's hope I'm not too late.)

Right on time, huh.

...

What's with the silence? This isn't a courtroom. If you're waiting for a "You have the right to remain silent," don't hold your breath.

And what would you have me say? Go on, enlighten me. After a despicable stunt like this, what kind of answer do you expect to hear?

Still playing dumb, are we? Or do you actually believe your crimes are as easy to cover up as your real face? You really think a bit of powder and paint can hide everything?

Fine. Then let me jog your memory.

Sixteen years ago, in Icelake, a young man named Sig kidnapped the daughter of Fabrice Ruthford, then overseer of Glevum Pit. Her name was Enola.

When the Escort cornered him, he resisted, and accidentally set the house on fire in the struggle. Enola died in the flames. And Sig was sentenced to death.

I've heard of that tragedy. A pity, truly. May that poor girl rest in peace.

But I only arrived in Icelake a few years ago. What could any of this possibly have to do with me?

Because someone survived that fire.

A witness said there were three people in the house that night, Sig, Enola... and Sig's sister, Violet. A girl around the same age as Enola.

In the chaos, that witness managed to pull a girl from the flames, a girl he thought was Violet. But was she really?

Tell me I'm wrong. Sixteen years ago, you killed Violet in that fire, then took her name, and tricked Donat into helping you escape Icelake. Didn't you, Enola Ruthford?

...Heh. Now there's a compelling tale. Good mysteries are so rare these days.

Please, do go on. I'm dying to hear how it ends.

I spent years combing through that case. A body burnt beyond recognition... a lone survivor... it was all just a little too convenient.

All the pieces were there, but the thread connecting them all together was missing.

As luck would have it, back when I was assigned to guard Fabrice Ruthford, I once heard his daughter sing.

That voice... I'd recognise it anywhere. And that's when I knew who you really were, "Violetta of a Thousand Faces."

I tried to study your habits, even arranged for false letters to be delivered, just to keep tabs on you.

Ah, so he was one of yours.

Not quite. He really was a fan. I just gave him a gentle nudge. And thanks to him, I got the answer I needed.

Still, there's one thing I don't understand.

Swapping places with Violet, it couldn't have been possible unless both Sig and the girl went along with it. How did you convince them?

That's your big mystery? The answer's simple.

You used to serve under my father. Then you should know what it meant to defy him.

Poor Sig was already prepared to throw his life away, but knowing my father, Violet was as good as dead too.

So I offered them a way out: Once the ransom was collected, stall as long as possible while creating a distraction to buy some time for Violet.

Pathetic, isn't it? In his panic, he actually ran off on his own to hold off the Escort, hoping that a sickly little girl might somehow escape a blazing house...

I took my chance. Killed that poor wretch who stood in my way. Took her name, left behind the dump, and my father. Left behind everything that ever stood between me and the stage.

...

What's the matter, Giselle? You've chased this truth for years... and now that you have it, you don't look the least bit satisfied.

You're insane... All of this, just for the spotlight!? You killed two people! Two innocent lives!

So what will it be? Drag my sins into the light? Or take your revenge, right here and now?

...I only ever meant to reveal the truth... and turn you in to the Escort.

Vita? What are you doing here?

Get out of my way. I won't let a monster like her walk free!

(She's lost it... I have to bring her back to her senses.)

Giselle, calm down. There might be more to this than you think.

Did you not hear what she just said!? How am I supposed to calm down!?

She's not going anywhere, not with us here. Just take a breath. I have a few questions for her.

I was terrified she'd be punished for her brother's crime. So I hid her in a water barrel, hoping the Legion wouldn't find her.

In the end, Sig was caught. And the officer's daughter... all they found was her charred remains in the rubble.

The officer was enraged. He didn't even wait for a trial, he executed Sig with his own hands. As for Violet... I gave her all the bounty money and smuggled her out of Icelake, praying she'd get away from all this.

I still remember her face when she left, worn thin by sickness, but her eyes were burning with fury. She was wearing this violet ribbon that day...

She said she'd leave Icelake for good. Said she never wanted to see me again.

And who could blame her? I was the drunk who doomed a friend and the coward whose fear cost two innocent lives. Why would anyone want to see me again?

You're right.

Yeah! You just did what you thought was right, Uncle Donat!

That's what they all say. But it doesn't change the fact that two innocent lives were gone because of me.

After that, I got really sick. Then I started doing what I could to help others, trying to make things right. I thought... maybe each good deed could chip away at my sins.

But still... I see Sig in my dreams, glaring at me in rage. I hear poor Enola screaming as the fire takes her. They say no kindness to the living will ever buy forgiveness from the dead.

Violet... is that why you came back to Icelake? Because you still can't forgive me... just like I never could?

Have you come to put me out of my misery...?

Uncle Donat!? Are you alright!?

Whew... he's fine. Looks like he just fainted from exhaustion and stress. Keep an eye on him, don't let him wander off again.

Mm. I'll get the others, we'll take care of him together.

Um... can I ask you something, miss?

What is it?

Do you think... Uncle Donat is a bad person?

So that's what you think... I see. Thank you, miss! This is for you, I saved it up for a long time!

(That violet ribbon... it must've been left by Violet at Sig's grave.)

(Sixteen years... she'd be in her thirties by now. Has she really returned? Maybe I should ask around when I get the chance.)

Another restless night... no peace for the weary!

O, wretched soul, do you too wander these icy halls, chasing the distant gleam, yearning for love and a starlit dream?

Da... Da da...

Who's there!?

Oh, pardon me. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm right here, five steps ahead. Yes, just here.

A good evening to you, sleepless one.

It's not just you. I really am talking.

Must there be someone hiding inside? Can't a crate simply... talk?

Sorry, I'm just a plain old crate. I don't grant wishes.

But... how can a crate talk?

If you must ask, tell me this: what's harder, singing or speaking?

Singing, I suppose.

Little music boxes can sing, simply wind a key and out comes a melody. Since speaking's easier than singing, and I'm larger and better made than any music box...

Why shouldn't I be able to talk to you, just as you're talking to me?

But...

I understand, you're confused.

People think crates shouldn't talk, like hollow trees, only echoing back your voice. But be honest with yourself: wouldn't you want a crate that actually answers?

You didn't pry me open straight away. That means... part of you wanted me to speak, didn't it?

...

Seems like you've come to terms with it. So, will you stay a while and talk?

What do you want to talk about?

Hmm... how about the opera at the Galea Theatre, two nights ago?

It was called Putini. Did you see it? What did you think of the lead's voice?

I'm just a crate, after all. I can't go to the theatre.

Sorry, I didn't see it.

That's all right. No one's blaming you. But you should see it someday, it's a beautiful piece. The heroine, Putini, she's radiant, kind... and brave enough to chase her freedom.

I want to be like her. But I'm just a crate.

So, I made a decision.

What is it?

I want to set sail. Who says crates must stay on street corners? A crate could become a boat, drifting on the tide... I want to feel the sea wind, rough with salt and sand.

But leaving here means losing everything I have.

To leave the cage... is to leave the shelter. And freedom, well, that means stepping into the unknown.

So tell me, my friend... what do you think I should do?

...You're right.

Thank you for keeping a lonely crate company, kind soul. Dawn is close... and with it, the magic in these old timbers begins to fade.

May every sleepless night you face... no, may all your nights be filled with peaceful dreams.

(What just happened...? That voice in the crate somehow steered the whole conversation.)

(It's probably some local kid messing around... but I can't just leave it. I should ask around.)

Excuse me... who are you? You've been hanging around my place for a while.

Looking to hire someone? I take all kinds of commissions, tracking, foraging, courier work, so long as it's legal.

Commission?

Huh? So you're not here to hire me?

Alright. I guess Camilla oversold it..."Giselle the Phoxhunter" isn't exactly a household name.

Giselle the Phoxhunter... yeah, that does sound familiar.

Thanks, but you don't have to say that just to make me feel better.

No no, I mean it...

So, a crate behind my house struck up a conversation and suggested you watch an opera. Got it.

...

That's... not quite the reaction I was expecting.

No? Well, that's me. Whether it's a kid in a box or a box with a voice, either way, I've seen stranger.

Thanks for letting me know. I'll ask around.

Oh, wait, you're Vita, right? You've made a bit of a name for yourself among the Phoxhunters.

Thought so. Good to see my instincts aren't getting rusty.

Relax. Talented newcomers like you don't stay under the radar for long.

Bit on the nose... but certainly hard to forget.

If you're free, I could use a hand.

I need a few herbs, I'll give you the list. Just drop them at The Asphodel once you're done. Camilla will be holding your payment.

You don't want them delivered here?

No. The Asphodel's fine.

(This should do it.)

(These herbs... they're just common types. Why would a Phoxhunter like Giselle ask me to gather them? She could've easily done it herself.)

(Come to think of it... she was acting a little strange.)

(Better drop these off at The Asphodel. Maybe Camilla knows what's going on.)

Afternoon. Here for a drink, or looking for a gig?

Just here to drop something off. Giselle asked me to deliver these.

Giselle? She was here earlier, actually left something for you. But... something felt off. What exactly did she ask you to do?

...

What is it? Something wrong?

The job itself checks out... but her reason for it doesn't.

Those are just common herbs for colds. She could've picked them herself before breakfast, no need to hire help.

She did mention she's a Phoxhunter herself.

Mm. She used to be a Captain in the Escort, left sixteen years ago after a falling-out with her superior over a case. Now she's a Phoxhunter. Sharp, skilled, well-respected in the trade.

Anyway... no point overthinking it. The job's valid, and she did leave you something. I won't pry.

I was terrified she'd be punished for her brother's crime. So I hid her in a water barrel, hoping the Legion wouldn't find her.

In the end, Sig was caught. And the officer's daughter... all they found was her charred remains in the rubble.

The officer was enraged. He didn't even wait for a trial, he executed Sig with his own hands. As for Violet... I gave her all the bounty money and smuggled her out of Icelake, praying she'd get away from all this.

I still remember her face when she left, worn thin by sickness, but her eyes were burning with fury. She was wearing this violet ribbon that day...

She said she'd leave Icelake for good. Said she never wanted to see me again.

And who could blame her? I was the drunk who doomed a friend and the coward whose fear cost two innocent lives. Why would anyone want to see me again?

You're right.

Yeah! You just did what you thought was right, Uncle Donat!

That's what they all say. But it doesn't change the fact that two innocent lives were gone because of me.

After that, I got really sick. Then I started doing what I could to help others, trying to make things right. I thought... maybe each good deed could chip away at my sins.

But still... I see Sig in my dreams, glaring at me in rage. I hear poor Enola screaming as the fire takes her. They say no kindness to the living will ever buy forgiveness from the dead.

Violet... is that why you came back to Icelake? Because you still can't forgive me... just like I never could?

Have you come to put me out of my misery...?

Uncle Donat!? Are you alright!?

Whew... he's fine. Looks like he just fainted from exhaustion and stress. Keep an eye on him, don't let him wander off again.

Mm. I'll get the others, we'll take care of him together.

Um... can I ask you something, miss?

What is it?

Do you think... Uncle Donat is a bad person?

So that's what you think... I see. Thank you, miss! This is for you, I saved it up for a long time!

(That violet ribbon... it must've been left by Violet at Sig's grave.)

(Sixteen years... she'd be in her thirties by now. Has she really returned? Maybe I should ask around when I get the chance.)

Another restless night... no peace for the weary!

O, wretched soul, do you too wander these icy halls, chasing the distant gleam, yearning for love and a starlit dream?

Da... Da da...

Who's there!?

Oh, pardon me. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm right here, five steps ahead. Yes, just here.

A good evening to you, sleepless one.

It's not just you. I really am talking.

Must there be someone hiding inside? Can't a crate simply... talk?

Sorry, I'm just a plain old crate. I don't grant wishes.

But... how can a crate talk?

If you must ask, tell me this: what's harder, singing or speaking?

Singing, I suppose.

Little music boxes can sing, simply wind a key and out comes a melody. Since speaking's easier than singing, and I'm larger and better made than any music box...

Why shouldn't I be able to talk to you, just as you're talking to me?

But...

I understand, you're confused.

People think crates shouldn't talk, like hollow trees, only echoing back your voice. But be honest with yourself: wouldn't you want a crate that actually answers?

You didn't pry me open straight away. That means... part of you wanted me to speak, didn't it?

...

Seems like you've come to terms with it. So, will you stay a while and talk?

What do you want to talk about?

Hmm... how about the opera at the Galea Theatre, two nights ago?

It was called Putini. Did you see it? What did you think of the lead's voice?

I'm just a crate, after all. I can't go to the theatre.

Sorry, I didn't see it.

That's all right. No one's blaming you. But you should see it someday, it's a beautiful piece. The heroine, Putini, she's radiant, kind... and brave enough to chase her freedom.

I want to be like her. But I'm just a crate.

So, I made a decision.

What is it?

I want to set sail. Who says crates must stay on street corners? A crate could become a boat, drifting on the tide... I want to feel the sea wind, rough with salt and sand.

But leaving here means losing everything I have.

To leave the cage... is to leave the shelter. And freedom, well, that means stepping into the unknown.

So tell me, my friend... what do you think I should do?

...You're right.

Thank you for keeping a lonely crate company, kind soul. Dawn is close... and with it, the magic in these old timbers begins to fade.

May every sleepless night you face... no, may all your nights be filled with peaceful dreams.

(What just happened...? That voice in the crate somehow steered the whole conversation.)

(It's probably some local kid messing around... but I can't just leave it. I should ask around.)

Excuse me... who are you? You've been hanging around my place for a while.

Looking to hire someone? I take all kinds of commissions, tracking, foraging, courier work, so long as it's legal.

Commission?

Huh? So you're not here to hire me?

Alright. I guess Camilla oversold it..."Giselle the Phoxhunter" isn't exactly a household name.

Giselle the Phoxhunter... yeah, that does sound familiar.

Thanks, but you don't have to say that just to make me feel better.

No no, I mean it...

So, a crate behind my house struck up a conversation and suggested you watch an opera. Got it.

...

That's... not quite the reaction I was expecting.

No? Well, that's me. Whether it's a kid in a box or a box with a voice, either way, I've seen stranger.

Thanks for letting me know. I'll ask around.

Oh, wait, you're Vita, right? You've made a bit of a name for yourself among the Phoxhunters.

Thought so. Good to see my instincts aren't getting rusty.

Relax. Talented newcomers like you don't stay under the radar for long.

Bit on the nose... but certainly hard to forget.

If you're free, I could use a hand.

I need a few herbs, I'll give you the list. Just drop them at The Asphodel once you're done. Camilla will be holding your payment.

You don't want them delivered here?

No. The Asphodel's fine.

(This should do it.)

(These herbs... they're just common types. Why would a Phoxhunter like Giselle ask me to gather them? She could've easily done it herself.)

(Come to think of it... she was acting a little strange.)

(Better drop these off at The Asphodel. Maybe Camilla knows what's going on.)

Afternoon. Here for a drink, or looking for a gig?

Just here to drop something off. Giselle asked me to deliver these.

Giselle? She was here earlier, actually left something for you. But... something felt off. What exactly did she ask you to do?

...

What is it? Something wrong?

The job itself checks out... but her reason for it doesn't.

Those are just common herbs for colds. She could've picked them herself before breakfast, no need to hire help.

She did mention she's a Phoxhunter herself.

Mm. She used to be a Captain in the Escort, left sixteen years ago after a falling-out with her superior over a case. Now she's a Phoxhunter. Sharp, skilled, well-respected in the trade.

Anyway... no point overthinking it. The job's valid, and she did leave you something. I won't pry.

I was terrified she'd be punished for her brother's crime. So I hid her in a water barrel, hoping the Legion wouldn't find her.

In the end, Sig was caught. And the officer's daughter... all they found was her charred remains in the rubble.

The officer was enraged. He didn't even wait for a trial, he executed Sig with his own hands. As for Violet... I gave her all the bounty money and smuggled her out of Icelake, praying she'd get away from all this.

I still remember her face when she left, worn thin by sickness, but her eyes were burning with fury. She was wearing this violet ribbon that day...

She said she'd leave Icelake for good. Said she never wanted to see me again.

And who could blame her? I was the drunk who doomed a friend and the coward whose fear cost two innocent lives. Why would anyone want to see me again?

You're right.

Yeah! You just did what you thought was right, Uncle Donat!

That's what they all say. But it doesn't change the fact that two innocent lives were gone because of me.

After that, I got really sick. Then I started doing what I could to help others, trying to make things right. I thought... maybe each good deed could chip away at my sins.

But still... I see Sig in my dreams, glaring at me in rage. I hear poor Enola screaming as the fire takes her. They say no kindness to the living will ever buy forgiveness from the dead.

Violet... is that why you came back to Icelake? Because you still can't forgive me... just like I never could?

Have you come to put me out of my misery...?

Uncle Donat!? Are you alright!?

Whew... he's fine. Looks like he just fainted from exhaustion and stress. Keep an eye on him, don't let him wander off again.

Mm. I'll get the others, we'll take care of him together.

Um... can I ask you something, miss?

What is it?

Do you think... Uncle Donat is a bad person?

So that's what you think... I see. Thank you, miss! This is for you, I saved it up for a long time!

(That violet ribbon... it must've been left by Violet at Sig's grave.)

(Sixteen years... she'd be in her thirties by now. Has she really returned? Maybe I should ask around when I get the chance.)

Another restless night... no peace for the weary!

O, wretched soul, do you too wander these icy halls, chasing the distant gleam, yearning for love and a starlit dream?

Da... Da da...

Who's there!?

Oh, pardon me. I didn't mean to startle you. I'm right here, five steps ahead. Yes, just here.

A good evening to you, sleepless one.

It's not just you. I really am talking.

Must there be someone hiding inside? Can't a crate simply... talk?

Sorry, I'm just a plain old crate. I don't grant wishes.

But... how can a crate talk?

If you must ask, tell me this: what's harder, singing or speaking?

Singing, I suppose.

Little music boxes can sing, simply wind a key and out comes a melody. Since speaking's easier than singing, and I'm larger and better made than any music box...

Why shouldn't I be able to talk to you, just as you're talking to me?

But...

I understand, you're confused.

People think crates shouldn't talk, like hollow trees, only echoing back your voice. But be honest with yourself: wouldn't you want a crate that actually answers?

You didn't pry me open straight away. That means... part of you wanted me to speak, didn't it?

...

Seems like you've come to terms with it. So, will you stay a while and talk?

What do you want to talk about?

Hmm... how about the opera at the Galea Theatre, two nights ago?

It was called Putini. Did you see it? What did you think of the lead's voice?

I'm just a crate, after all. I can't go to the theatre.

Sorry, I didn't see it.

That's all right. No one's blaming you. But you should see it someday, it's a beautiful piece. The heroine, Putini, she's radiant, kind... and brave enough to chase her freedom.

I want to be like her. But I'm just a crate.

So, I made a decision.

What is it?

I want to set sail. Who says crates must stay on street corners? A crate could become a boat, drifting on the tide... I want to feel the sea wind, rough with salt and sand.

But leaving here means losing everything I have.

To leave the cage... is to leave the shelter. And freedom, well, that means stepping into the unknown.

So tell me, my friend... what do you think I should do?

...You're right.

Thank you for keeping a lonely crate company, kind soul. Dawn is close... and with it, the magic in these old timbers begins to fade.

May every sleepless night you face... no, may all your nights be filled with peaceful dreams.

(What just happened...? That voice in the crate somehow steered the whole conversation.)

(It's probably some local kid messing around... but I can't just leave it. I should ask around.)

Excuse me... who are you? You've been hanging around my place for a while.

Looking to hire someone? I take all kinds of commissions, tracking, foraging, courier work, so long as it's legal.

Commission?

Huh? So you're not here to hire me?

Alright. I guess Camilla oversold it..."Giselle the Phoxhunter" isn't exactly a household name.

Giselle the Phoxhunter... yeah, that does sound familiar.

Thanks, but you don't have to say that just to make me feel better.

No no, I mean it...

So, a crate behind my house struck up a conversation and suggested you watch an opera. Got it.

...

That's... not quite the reaction I was expecting.

No? Well, that's me. Whether it's a kid in a box or a box with a voice, either way, I've seen stranger.

Thanks for letting me know. I'll ask around.

Oh, wait, you're Vita, right? You've made a bit of a name for yourself among the Phoxhunters.

Thought so. Good to see my instincts aren't getting rusty.

Relax. Talented newcomers like you don't stay under the radar for long.

Bit on the nose... but certainly hard to forget.

If you're free, I could use a hand.

I need a few herbs, I'll give you the list. Just drop them at The Asphodel once you're done. Camilla will be holding your payment.

You don't want them delivered here?

No. The Asphodel's fine.

(This should do it.)

(These herbs... they're just common types. Why would a Phoxhunter like Giselle ask me to gather them? She could've easily done it herself.)

(Come to think of it... she was acting a little strange.)

(Better drop these off at The Asphodel. Maybe Camilla knows what's going on.)

Afternoon. Here for a drink, or looking for a gig?

Just here to drop something off. Giselle asked me to deliver these.

Giselle? She was here earlier, actually left something for you. But... something felt off. What exactly did she ask you to do?

...

What is it? Something wrong?

The job itself checks out... but her reason for it doesn't.

Those are just common herbs for colds. She could've picked them herself before breakfast, no need to hire help.

She did mention she's a Phoxhunter herself.

Mm. She used to be a Captain in the Escort, left sixteen years ago after a falling-out with her superior over a case. Now she's a Phoxhunter. Sharp, skilled, well-respected in the trade.

Anyway... no point overthinking it. The job's valid, and she did leave you something. I won't pry.

Here, this is for you.

This is... the payment. And a letter?

Looks like you made an interesting friend. I bet there's a good story there.

Not really. Honestly... I'm still not sure what actually happened.

Putini...

Does that name mean anything to you?

Not by itself. But didn't that voice in the crate mention an opera that just played at the theatre?

Yeah, she even asked how the lead did.

Funny thing, that. There's been some talk in the tavern...

One of the regulars caught the dress rehearsal for Putini. Said the lead wasn't the same actress who performed on opening night.

They said the rehearsal lead was younger, even more talented. But in the end, the role went to the usual star.

You mean...

It's just hearsay. Nothing solid to connect these dots.

Still... if you've got time, maybe dig a little deeper. I'd like to know the truth too.

(So Camilla's in the dark too... But one thing's for sure, Giselle was acting strange.)

(That girl in the crate... could she have been the one from the dress rehearsal? And if so, did Giselle know the whole time?)

(...No use guessing. I'll have to ask Giselle myself.)

I told you so, I've been saying this from the start!

We never should've hired that dubious woman as a tutor! And we never should've let Rosalind take those blasted singing lessons!

You were the one who said she needed something to keep her busy, so she wouldn't be out roaming around all day!

I meant something to keep her home, not something that'd send her running off again and getting herself kidnapped!

And you Escort grunts, what use are you!? We finally had a lead, and you lot were too slow, now the kidnappers are gone!

...

Ugh, why am I even wasting my breath on imbeciles like you? I'll find my daughter myself!

...Phew. He's finally gone.

Please stay back, this area's off-limits.

Sorry, I heard yelling. Is everything okay?

We received a report of a kidnapping. The victim was supposedly held here, but the place was already empty when we arrived.

This property's on lockdown. If you're just here out of curiosity, I'll have to ask you to move along.

Who were those two just now?

The victim's parents, the Earl and Countess of Magnus. I get that they're worried, but they really do live up to their reputation...

Word is they were always breathing down their daughter's neck. Maybe Miss Rosalind ran off just to get some air...

Ahem... that's enough gossip. If you have any information, please report it to the Escort.

(Giselle and Miss Crate... they're both gone.)

(A kidnapping... could it have something to do with that letter Giselle left at the tavern?)

(No leads for now. Guess I'll just have to stay sharp and see what turns up.)

Da... Da da...

(So much has happened in Icelake these past few days... and now, there's even been a kidnapping.)

(Now that I think about it, some of these events might be more closely connected than they seemed.)

(Time to lay everything out... and start connecting the dots.)

(There was more to the kidnapping sixteen years ago... and Violetta may be the one who knows the truth. Giselle took her student just to force a meeting.)

(If my deductions are right, she should be with Violetta right now.)

(The letter mentioned the location. I need to hurry... let's hope I'm not too late.)

Right on time, huh.

...

What's with the silence? This isn't a courtroom. If you're waiting for a "You have the right to remain silent," don't hold your breath.

And what would you have me say? Go on, enlighten me. After a despicable stunt like this, what kind of answer do you expect to hear?

Still playing dumb, are we? Or do you actually believe your crimes are as easy to cover up as your real face? You really think a bit of powder and paint can hide everything?

Fine. Then let me jog your memory.

Sixteen years ago, in Icelake, a young man named Sig kidnapped the daughter of Fabrice Ruthford, then overseer of Glevum Pit. Her name was Enola.

When the Escort cornered him, he resisted, and accidentally set the house on fire in the struggle. Enola died in the flames. And Sig was sentenced to death.

I've heard of that tragedy. A pity, truly. May that poor girl rest in peace.

But I only arrived in Icelake a few years ago. What could any of this possibly have to do with me?

Because someone survived that fire.

A witness said there were three people in the house that night, Sig, Enola... and Sig's sister, Violet. A girl around the same age as Enola.

In the chaos, that witness managed to pull a girl from the flames, a girl he thought was Violet. But was she really?

Tell me I'm wrong. Sixteen years ago, you killed Violet in that fire, then took her name, and tricked Donat into helping you escape Icelake. Didn't you, Enola Ruthford?

...Heh. Now there's a compelling tale. Good mysteries are so rare these days.

Please, do go on. I'm dying to hear how it ends.

I spent years combing through that case. A body burnt beyond recognition... a lone survivor... it was all just a little too convenient.

All the pieces were there, but the thread connecting them all together was missing.

As luck would have it, back when I was assigned to guard Fabrice Ruthford, I once heard his daughter sing.

That voice... I'd recognise it anywhere. And that's when I knew who you really were, "Violetta of a Thousand Faces."

I tried to study your habits, even arranged for false letters to be delivered, just to keep tabs on you.

Ah, so he was one of yours.

Not quite. He really was a fan. I just gave him a gentle nudge. And thanks to him, I got the answer I needed.

Still, there's one thing I don't understand.

Swapping places with Violet, it couldn't have been possible unless both Sig and the girl went along with it. How did you convince them?

That's your big mystery? The answer's simple.

You used to serve under my father. Then you should know what it meant to defy him.

Poor Sig was already prepared to throw his life away, but knowing my father, Violet was as good as dead too.

So I offered them a way out: Once the ransom was collected, stall as long as possible while creating a distraction to buy some time for Violet.

Pathetic, isn't it? In his panic, he actually ran off on his own to hold off the Escort, hoping that a sickly little girl might somehow escape a blazing house...

I took my chance. Killed that poor wretch who stood in my way. Took her name, left behind the dump, and my father. Left behind everything that ever stood between me and the stage.

...

What's the matter, Giselle? You've chased this truth for years... and now that you have it, you don't look the least bit satisfied.

You're insane... All of this, just for the spotlight!? You killed two people! Two innocent lives!

So what will it be? Drag my sins into the light? Or take your revenge, right here and now?

...I only ever meant to reveal the truth... and turn you in to the Escort.

Vita? What are you doing here?

Get out of my way. I won't let a monster like her walk free!

(She's lost it... I have to bring her back to her senses.)

Giselle, calm down. There might be more to this than you think.

Did you not hear what she just said!? How am I supposed to calm down!?

She's not going anywhere, not with us here. Just take a breath. I have a few questions for her.

Here, this is for you.

This is... the payment. And a letter?

Looks like you made an interesting friend. I bet there's a good story there.

Not really. Honestly... I'm still not sure what actually happened.

Putini...

Does that name mean anything to you?

Not by itself. But didn't that voice in the crate mention an opera that just played at the theatre?

Yeah, she even asked how the lead did.

Funny thing, that. There's been some talk in the tavern...

One of the regulars caught the dress rehearsal for Putini. Said the lead wasn't the same actress who performed on opening night.

They said the rehearsal lead was younger, even more talented. But in the end, the role went to the usual star.

You mean...

It's just hearsay. Nothing solid to connect these dots.

Still... if you've got time, maybe dig a little deeper. I'd like to know the truth too.

(So Camilla's in the dark too... But one thing's for sure, Giselle was acting strange.)

(That girl in the crate... could she have been the one from the dress rehearsal? And if so, did Giselle know the whole time?)

(...No use guessing. I'll have to ask Giselle myself.)

I told you so, I've been saying this from the start!

We never should've hired that dubious woman as a tutor! And we never should've let Rosalind take those blasted singing lessons!

You were the one who said she needed something to keep her busy, so she wouldn't be out roaming around all day!

I meant something to keep her home, not something that'd send her running off again and getting herself kidnapped!

And you Escort grunts, what use are you!? We finally had a lead, and you lot were too slow, now the kidnappers are gone!

...

Ugh, why am I even wasting my breath on imbeciles like you? I'll find my daughter myself!

...Phew. He's finally gone.

Please stay back, this area's off-limits.

Sorry, I heard yelling. Is everything okay?

We received a report of a kidnapping. The victim was supposedly held here, but the place was already empty when we arrived.

This property's on lockdown. If you're just here out of curiosity, I'll have to ask you to move along.

Who were those two just now?

The victim's parents, the Earl and Countess of Magnus. I get that they're worried, but they really do live up to their reputation...

Word is they were always breathing down their daughter's neck. Maybe Miss Rosalind ran off just to get some air...

Ahem... that's enough gossip. If you have any information, please report it to the Escort.

(Giselle and Miss Crate... they're both gone.)

(A kidnapping... could it have something to do with that letter Giselle left at the tavern?)

(No leads for now. Guess I'll just have to stay sharp and see what turns up.)

Da... Da da...

(So much has happened in Icelake these past few days... and now, there's even been a kidnapping.)

(Now that I think about it, some of these events might be more closely connected than they seemed.)

(Time to lay everything out... and start connecting the dots.)

(There was more to the kidnapping sixteen years ago... and Violetta may be the one who knows the truth. Giselle took her student just to force a meeting.)

(If my deductions are right, she should be with Violetta right now.)

(The letter mentioned the location. I need to hurry... let's hope I'm not too late.)

Right on time, huh.

...

What's with the silence? This isn't a courtroom. If you're waiting for a "You have the right to remain silent," don't hold your breath.

And what would you have me say? Go on, enlighten me. After a despicable stunt like this, what kind of answer do you expect to hear?

Still playing dumb, are we? Or do you actually believe your crimes are as easy to cover up as your real face? You really think a bit of powder and paint can hide everything?

Fine. Then let me jog your memory.

Sixteen years ago, in Icelake, a young man named Sig kidnapped the daughter of Fabrice Ruthford, then overseer of Glevum Pit. Her name was Enola.

When the Escort cornered him, he resisted, and accidentally set the house on fire in the struggle. Enola died in the flames. And Sig was sentenced to death.

I've heard of that tragedy. A pity, truly. May that poor girl rest in peace.

But I only arrived in Icelake a few years ago. What could any of this possibly have to do with me?

Because someone survived that fire.

A witness said there were three people in the house that night, Sig, Enola... and Sig's sister, Violet. A girl around the same age as Enola.

In the chaos, that witness managed to pull a girl from the flames, a girl he thought was Violet. But was she really?

Tell me I'm wrong. Sixteen years ago, you killed Violet in that fire, then took her name, and tricked Donat into helping you escape Icelake. Didn't you, Enola Ruthford?

...Heh. Now there's a compelling tale. Good mysteries are so rare these days.

Please, do go on. I'm dying to hear how it ends.

I spent years combing through that case. A body burnt beyond recognition... a lone survivor... it was all just a little too convenient.

All the pieces were there, but the thread connecting them all together was missing.

As luck would have it, back when I was assigned to guard Fabrice Ruthford, I once heard his daughter sing.

That voice... I'd recognise it anywhere. And that's when I knew who you really were, "Violetta of a Thousand Faces."

I tried to study your habits, even arranged for false letters to be delivered, just to keep tabs on you.

Ah, so he was one of yours.

Not quite. He really was a fan. I just gave him a gentle nudge. And thanks to him, I got the answer I needed.

Still, there's one thing I don't understand.

Swapping places with Violet, it couldn't have been possible unless both Sig and the girl went along with it. How did you convince them?

That's your big mystery? The answer's simple.

You used to serve under my father. Then you should know what it meant to defy him.

Poor Sig was already prepared to throw his life away, but knowing my father, Violet was as good as dead too.

So I offered them a way out: Once the ransom was collected, stall as long as possible while creating a distraction to buy some time for Violet.

Pathetic, isn't it? In his panic, he actually ran off on his own to hold off the Escort, hoping that a sickly little girl might somehow escape a blazing house...

I took my chance. Killed that poor wretch who stood in my way. Took her name, left behind the dump, and my father. Left behind everything that ever stood between me and the stage.

...

What's the matter, Giselle? You've chased this truth for years... and now that you have it, you don't look the least bit satisfied.

You're insane... All of this, just for the spotlight!? You killed two people! Two innocent lives!

So what will it be? Drag my sins into the light? Or take your revenge, right here and now?

...I only ever meant to reveal the truth... and turn you in to the Escort.

Vita? What are you doing here?

Get out of my way. I won't let a monster like her walk free!

(She's lost it... I have to bring her back to her senses.)

Giselle, calm down. There might be more to this than you think.

Did you not hear what she just said!? How am I supposed to calm down!?

She's not going anywhere, not with us here. Just take a breath. I have a few questions for her.