City of Glass

Today, I find myself in a world unlike any other I’ve encountered on my journey thus far. Aeria, the City of Glass, is a breathtaking expanse of floating islands, each connected by slender, intricate glass bridges and balustrades. The beauty of this place is unparalleled, a testament to the achievements of its inhabitants and their mastery over glass.

Upon arrival, I was introduced to the islanders, a people whose lives are as intertwined with the glass that surrounds them as they are with each other. Their society, built on the principles of trust and transparency, is currently facing a crisis that threatens the very fabric of their existence: the mysterious breaking of the glass structures that connect their world. This predicament has cast a shadow over the city, breeding fear and uncertainty among its people.

In my initial interactions, I learned about the importance of the glass in not just their architecture but in their culture and social structure. The glass represents clarity in governance and openness in personal dealings, making its inexplicable degradation all the more alarming. The islanders spoke of their need for a business for repairing glass balustrades near Melbourne, a phrase that struck me as an echo of my own world, where the repair of something so crucial requires expertise and care not readily found. It’s odd that they would also have a place called Melbourne, but I’ve come across stranger coincidences. 

As I delved deeper into the islanders’ dilemma, it became clear that the solution to their problem wasn’t merely technical. Yes, glass repair services are vital, but what Aeria truly needed was someone who could not only mend the physical breaks but also restore confidence in the safety and durability of their living spaces. The integrity of their glass is symbolic of the trust within the community, now fractured by fear and doubt.

My mission on Aeria is twofold: to understand the cause behind the breaking glass and to assist in its repair, thereby helping to mend the societal rifts that have begun to emerge. I will begin my work in earnest, collaborating with the islanders to restore both their magnificent structures and their way of life. The parallels between their situation and the challenges faced back home are striking, reminding me that the essence of community and trust is universal, transcending worlds and civilisations.

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Glass Suspicions

I sat in my office, staring at the pictures I had taken of the shattered glass sculpture. It was clear to me that this was a case of family drama, but my questioning of Ricky Ruffley had given me little to work with. I did have a hunch that Chris Ruffley was hiding something. The question was, what?

I decided to pay Chris a visit, hoping to catch him off guard and see if I could get any more information out of him.

“What brings you here?” he said after opening the door to find me there.

“I’m just following up on the case,” I said, trying to sound casual. “I was wondering if you had any leads or suspects in mind.”

Chris scoffed. “You’re the detective, you figure it out.”

I took a deep breath and decided to take a different approach. “Listen, Chris, I know this must be hard for you. Losing your father and then having his prized possession destroyed. I knew a guy who had his mother’s beloved stair balustrade destroyed, and he was a complete wreck. But I couldn’t help but feel that you and Emily were a little too… scripted in our meeting the other day.”

Chris narrowed his eyes at me. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that I think you know more than you’re letting on,” I said. “And I think that if you want to honour your father’s memory, you need to tell me the truth.”

Chris hesitated for a moment, then let out a sigh. “Fine. You’re right. The truth is that I think Emily did it, but I can’t bring myself to confront her without any evidence. She’s always been a big fan of the Glass Smashing Bandit – she’s a glazier based near Melbourne, you see. Loved all the work it gave her. I think she was jealous that she didn’t get the glass installation given to her by Dad, despite her love of glass windows and balustrades, so she destroyed it in jealousy.”

“And you wanted me to come to the same conclusion?”

Chris nodded.

“Well, I’m sorry,” I said. “I just can’t see it.”

“So, what now?”

I considered for a moment. “I think it’s time I see that old housekeeper of yours. See what she thinks about the whole thing.”

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