A Visit to San Sibilia

Day 4: six of spades and four of clubs: an unexpected visit to the market

Yesterday one of the businessmen invited me to the market. However, he emphasized that this is not the same as town market where people sell fish and fruit. I had no idea what to expect, but I was determined to be at the address that I had been given. This is a strange town that I did not plan to visit, but I wanted to make the most out of it, so I went to this market.

The address the man had given me was a large multistory building. When I rang the doorbell, the door was opened by a man in a black suit (he looked like a butler) and, without saying a word, he led me through a courtyard and pointed to me towards a door on the other side of it. I confidently walked up to the door and opened it but there was no one inside. There was only a table which had laid out various objects and some pieces of paper next to it. I had apparently walked into a silent auction. I looked around again, I couldn't see anyone but there had to be someone watching through a secret peephole or something similar. I didn't know what to do, since I didn't want to buy any of these objects, I didn't even know what they were. Some looked like pieces from a museum, some were entirely unrecognizable. I also didn't want to be rude, so I looked at the objects and bid a respectable but affordable sum on one of them and left.

Day 5: eight of hearts and queen of diamonds: an illuminating letter from a city official

When I returned from my walk along the river today, there was a letter for me at the hotel's front desk. The employee working there seemed nervous and told me that the paper bears the insignia of the city council. She asked me if my brother and I had been up to anything illegal and if she would get in trouble. I joked that if I had done anything illegal, their city sure was nice to send a letter instead of the police. This seemed to calm the woman, but her smile still looked awkward.

Right after getting back to my room, I opened the letter. It rather rudely asked me why I, a stranger, was involved in the dealings of a suspected criminal organization. The letter was sort of rambly, going on about how there wasn't any proof for illegal activities, but an organization being so secretive couldn't possibly mean anything good. It took me some time to realize that they were talking about at the market I had attended yesterday. The letter stated that I should cease all contact with them and come to the City Council with my brother to aid in the investigation of the organization as any upstanding citizen would do.

I assume there is nothing they could legally do, otherwise they wouldn't be sending this letter and it might be useful to talk to someone who has influence in this town, so I dressed up and paid the city council a visit.

I asked some pedestrians how to get there and they showed me the way. It was really an ordinary building, the only thing to make it stand out from the other buildings around it are several flags affixed to the front of the building beneath the windows. I went inside and asked to speak to the person who sent the letter, but the secretary didn't know who did. She said she could get the council member responsible for trade, seeing as I was known as a merchant, although I did find it strange that she knew this. I agreed and she went to fetch Clarence Monroe. I showed him the letter and he didn't seem to recognize it either. He invited me to a drink which I accepted and we got to chat. Disguised as Sebastien, I was able to negotiate some deals on reduced taxes and import rates in exchange for trading local goods to towns down the river, therefore extending San Sibilia’s reach outside the city limits. As it turns out, this particular Councilman is unsurprisingly not very happy with the secrecy that surrounds the existence of the city whose economy he is supposed to uphold. I don't know yet if he's to be trusted, regardless it is nice to see there he at least seems to know what is good for a flourishing economy.

Day 6: two of hearts and four of hearts: a first time gallery opening, two hearts in a row: a change of heart. Who had a change of heart? Was it a spurned lover, a rival, your patron, or yourself?

While saying goodbye to the Councilman, he invited me to a gallery opening. I accepted; This man might prove to be a significant asset, and if going to a gallery is how it's done in this place, then I won't question that. He informed me that the exhibition shown on this day was the one and only planned showing of a private collection. To my surprise, when I walked in the door, I realized that the pieces in the glass cases where partially the same pieces I had seen at the silent auction. So my assessment that some of these things belong in a museum was apparently correct.

I think this evening "Sebastien" really made progress in getting into the Monroe’s good graces, however, this seemed to have come at a cost. When I returned to my hotel room, another letter had been to deposited there. This time it didn't appear to come from the council, the envelope was completely blank, and inside there was a typed note telling me I will not be receiving the object I had won the bidding on due to my public fraternizing with the City Council, as well as a warning that I better keep my mouth shut.

Day 7: nine of clubs and ace of clubs: a shocking excursion to a ruin, two clubs in a row: a new wind is blowing. This could be as simple as a change in weather, or it could also be a new political power rising, a new artistic movement, or new fad sweeping the city.

After a week of hard work building a web of business contacts, I felt like a deserved a day off. I remembered that Clarence had mentioned a ruin close to town worth a visit while we were inspecting some archaeological artifacts during the exhibition. So I took a cab to the countryside just outside the city, and indeed, even the ride there already relaxed me. After a short while, I saw a spire appearing over the next hill I told the cab driver to stop and let me off to walk the rest of the way. I wanted to enjoy the fresh air, the cool breeze, and the warm sun on my skin. But approaching my destination, it became clear to me that a relaxing day trip was not how this is going to end up.

The site consists of a tree stem carved with intricate patterns towering high into the air and arranged around it there were several crumbled stone structures. Not quite symmetrical, their original purpose lost to time. Placed on these stone structures where a few of the more obscure items from the auction. A group of people in robes with hoods had collected around the spire in a circle and they were chanting something in a language that sounded entirely unfamiliar. I do not believe in the occult, but what I saw there was undeniably strange. A small storm cloud formed over the spire and extend outwards and upwards slowly. I didn't want to stick around to find out what was going on, I could just imagine too well what would happen if they found me lurking behind a tree, so I quietly backed away again and walked back into town. While I was walking, the sky above me was getting darker and darker and the cool breeze turned into a stiff wind. I got back to my hotel just in time to escape the rain that followed.

Day 8: ace of hearts and eight of spades: serendipitous encounter at midnight

After this experience I was left feeling rattled. What was going on? Were they succeeding at whatever they were attempting? Is this an isolated occurrence or just a continuation of the "No one outside this city even knows it exists"-theme? I tossed and turned but couldn’t sleep, so I went outside to clear my head. It was midnight so the streets were quiet except for a bar in the area. I wandered the streets, with no aim until I found myself at the main bridge, and I wasn’t the only one who ended up there on this mild evening. Leaning over the railing and staring into the distance, I recognized Clarence.

I approached him and when he looked up, he greeted me with: "Ms. Leroux, what a pleasant surprise" and inquired as to what made me come out here so late at night. Naturally, I cheekily asked him the same question back and after a chuckle, he got serious and told me he felt that he had the weight of the city resting on his shoulders with the strange occurrences among the merchants lately. I leaned on the railing beside him, and we got to talk. We talked all night, and wouldn’t you know it, the man admitted to me that he was the sender of the letter that brought me to the city council in the first place (not really a surprise if I’m being honest). He apologized for the rude tone and the secrecy, but that he lacked sleep lately, he was worried about another merchant being pulled into this mess and feared for my safety.
I told him about what I saw at the auction and in the countryside too and he listened with furrowed brows. He thanked me and promised he’ll investigate further.

Day 9: ten of spades and two of diamonds: distant encounter at the bookstore

When I woke up today, it was already noon. I only went to bed at 6 am today, so I felt in no condition to try and smooth things over with the merchants. Having the minister of trade on my side didn’t do me any good if the actual traders wouldn’t do business with me. And honestly, after all my experiences here, I’m not sure I want to proceed on this course either.

Either way, I went to the bookstore today, and I have to say, trouble seems to follow me. I was just minding my own business when I noticed a familiar face out of the corner of my eye. The butler who opened the door for me at the market was standing in front of a shelf, pulling out several books, flipping through them and putting them back. It didn’t look like he noticed me when he eventually picked one of the books, paid and left. Not being able to contain my curiosity, I casually walked over and looked at which books he wanted to read. The empty spot in the shelf where he had taken his book had several more copies of ‘The Seven Spirits of Chagan’. The cover text told me that it’s an account of the story of Chagan, a Mongolian trader active on the silk road who supposedly split his soul into seven parts to protect his wealth – very strange choice of reading material for this butler.

Day 10: six of diamonds and seven of diamonds: planned news in the broadsheets, two diamonds in a row: a ripple moves through the city. Reality is shifting. Streets may have moved, new buildings are sprouting up, a generation may have been skipped. Are you the only one noticing the difference?

I hadn’t been able to shake off my observation of the butler’s purchase yesterday, so I decided I should seek him out, ask him if he knows what’s going on personally. I disguised myself as Sebastien to come across as more trustworthy and authoritative (ridiculous that I have to go to such lengths…) when I try to get the truth out of him. I retraced my steps to the building the ‘market’ was held in a week ago now, and I was sure, so sure, that I went to the right place. I even walked back to try another time, but I still ended up in the same place. Not in front of the auction house, but rather a quaint little café. The neighboring houses looked the same too, but the majestic residential building was gone!

Not knowing what to do, I went inside the café and sat down with a strong coffee. I looked around for any indication of suspicion from the other patrons. That’s when I saw it, in the newspaper the chap at the next table was reading, right there in the classifieds: 'Brothers of Chagan, reunite in spirit'. I knew this couldn’t be good, so I immediately ran down to the city council to see Clarence. He wasn’t in today, but I’ll definitely go again tomorrow…

Day 11: seven of clubs and eight of diamonds: harrowing parade through the neighborhood

I could barely sleep tonight, I wondered if Clarence might be up again too, and I could meet him at the bridge once more, but things are getting too creepy for me to wander alone outside at night. All night I watched my clock count down the hours, drifting off into sleep occasionally and awaking again soon after. In the early hours of the morning, my room being slowly illuminated by the twilight, I heard the shuffling of steps from outside my window. I peeked outside but was not prepared for what I would see there. San Sibilia’s most prominent merchants were outside, holding some sort of bizarre parade, the center of which were seven bodies in varying states of decay, propped up on chairs and each holding one of the artifacts I had seen during the ritual at the ruin some days ago in their laps. They were being carried by people I did not recognize while the merchants walked alongside with quiet determination. I gasped and immediately stepped back into the shadow of my room, hoping that no one on the street had looked up.

As soon as city hall opened, I went over and demanded to speak to Clarence, but he wasn’t in, again. I waited in front of his office all day, but he didn’t show up. I hope he didn’t get himself in trouble…

Day 12: jack of spades and two of spades: dangerous rendezvous with new friends, two spades in a row: The city moves against you. Are hostile forces acting from the shadows or is something openly antagonizing you? Did you make a mistake or did you know this would be coming?

I decided that I needed to get out of this city, preferably I could warn Clarence before I did; he deserved that much, I thought. So, one last time I went down to the city council, or at least I thought that was where I was going, but I must have lost my way. I could not find the building, just like that strange experience with the market house the other day. I roamed the streets, but I was soon stranded in a part of the city I was entirely unfamiliar with. I was spooked, this is how it ends, I thought as I felt like the walls were closing in on me. Then a hand grabbed me, pulled me into the side alley, covering my mouth. I was about to fight back but then Clarence stepped into my view. I looked at him, confused, turned around, and the person who had ‘abducted’ me was the butler. He didn’t introduce himself or waste any time, he just said: "They do something like this every few years. I try to save as many as I can but most of the people in this city are already beyond salvation. You aren’t, you and Monroe. Meet me at the docks in two hours, I organized a ship for you two" I looked between him and Clarence incredulously and asked what happens to himself to which Clarence explained that the butler had sought him out in much the same way and he had already tried to argue that the butler deserved saving as well, but all he wanted was our best efforts from outside to scrub any mention of this city from existence so no one will ever be tempted to come here again. The butler gave a nod and a courteous smile and told me he served the people, just not the people his masters thought he served.

What will you take with you? After some arguing I accepted the butler’s wishes as well, but I claimed to still have my brother to take care of too. Another polite smile showed me that he already knew about the role I had played for years now. Clarence led me back to the hotel, and I didn’t check out to avoid raising suspicion. I simply put as much as reasonably possible into my coat pockets and wrote this journal entry.

How did the city change you? I will leave my "brother" behind here. It turns out the world already has too many secrets in it. I will give him a heroic story of saving me but sacrificing himself when our ship sank.

Will you ever return? I hope Clarence and I can make good on our promise to help the butler from the outside. He did propose a business partnership I intend to take. He seems to have a thing for me, and I must admit, despite getting off to a rocky start, he is growing on me too. Either way, we also promised to never return, so this will be the last we see of San Sibilia.

How do you leave? Here we are now, dear reader, the time has come, we’re standing on a small steamer, the butler at the docks. He just handed me his copy of ‘The Seven Spirits of Chagan’ and told me to recite the verse he inscribed when we come upon the storm so we will be able to exit ‘The Shift’, whatever that means. He declined to give me his name, but I will be forever grateful. The one small thing I could help him take care of any future wanderers finding their way into San Sibilia, is leaving him this journal to give to you and learn of my experience. That is to say; if you’re reading this, run for your life and never look back.