The Fae Who Came To Victory Apartments
The Government of Levania
Files to Case 06A-200018 (CONFIDENTIAL)
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From the Diary of Mrs. Morrison, owner of Victory Apartments
It’s been about a month since the death of Skye Lordson. The images of finding her in a pool of her own blood, her hand clutching a gun, haunt my nightmares. My husband says I should see a therapist. He only says out of worry, and I love him for it, but I don’t need a therapist. I need these memories of a young Fae, trying to build a life among us, humans, gone.
It was a humid December day when I met Skye Lordson last year. I had not known she was Fae then. She had called me the previous week, asking if I any apartments available on the top floor and what kind of furnishes there were. I replied to her that the place was fully furnished. She asked what the price was. I told her, adding in the price of utilities, the cost was six thousand a month. The next day, someone deposited six months worth of rent in my bank account along with an attached note that read “please do not disclose this. For my sake.”
When she had arrived that unnatural humid December day, I knew why I could feel it. Skye Lordson hid it with a long coat and a headscarf, but I knew it the moment her presence graced the grounds. She was a Fae. And she was running from something. Her eyes, a blue that looked a little too blue, were wide with fear and anxiousness. On a constant basis was she looking around her, no doubt worried someone would get her.
“My name is Skye Lordson,” the young Fae- who took on the appearance of a young woman- told me. “Last week, you received payment for one of your top floor apartments in my name. I wish to claim it. Take me to it.”
Skye spoke to me as if I was a servant, though her voice was a bit shaky. This was, unfortunately, something I was used to. I nodded and offered to carry the one suitcase she held onto with an iron grip. Skye Lordson would allow no such thing, so I led her to the glass elevator and up to floor 61. The whole time, Lordson could help but look out upon the lands where Victory Apartment sat. Knowing what little I do of Faes, I thought the various gardens would amaze her. The Fae’s world had no green space, because of bombings which took place during the Light Wars.
The doors to floor 61 weren’t even open a second when Skye brushed past me. I say “brushed” when I really meant “used her Fae speed to zip by me.” She all but ran and might have flown had I not been there, to door number 16-61.
“Hang on, hang on,” I said and fished out my keys to open the door. “I gotta unlock it.”
I looked at her as I did so and noticed the barest hint of Elven ears beneath her blonde hair. “No one has occupied this floor in a long time, Ms. Lordson. It’s likely you’ll only be bothered by the maids who come up here and clean.”
I swung the door open and stepped back, allowing her to take in the spacious living room of 16- 61. Her attention was, at least, drawn to a single plant which sat on a side table next to the six-person couch. “Lordson,” I said almost in a whisper, “if you wish to reveal your wings, I’d understand.”
With the very knife, I would later find in her cold dead hand, Skye had me pinned to the door I had closed. “How?” Her eyes were filled with anger and something else, likely terror.
“I could sense it the moment I glanced upon you,” I said quietly. I knew the maids were likely on the bottom floors, but I didn’t want to chance it. “Ms. Lordson, I see no reason why I should report a Fae living in my building. Especially when she pays me six months rent.”
She nodded and stepped. I all but collapsed to the floor clutching my neck. For a fae, she had an iron grip. “Go on.” I gestured around us. “You are hidden. I will not tell.”
“It is uncommon to find one who knows my kind before we reveal such information,” Skye told me as she unbuttoned her coat. It dropped to the floor, and I saw the most thing in the world- the translucent, b-shaped wings of a Fae. They seemed to simmer in the soft light of the living room. They shook as if glad to be free and eager to be put to use. They buzzed as if they were alive.
“I will pay you- and you only- to come clean my housing area,” Skye told me. “Tell no one of who I am and no harm will come to you,” she threatened.
All I could do was accept. I had no idea what she was running from, but I knew asking might invite more trouble than I already had.
End File 45 of Case 06A-200018
Special Note Added 33x/12/05 by Hecrus_Lordson
It is likely that Mrs. Morrison knew who or what Skye Lordson was running from. Her diary only contains information we already know. Upon reaching out to Mrs. Morrison on 33x/10/01, we discovered she had disappeared. Finding her is a top priority.