It is when time is of the essence that fear proliferates and invades the unheeded courage in a person. One will react in haste in order to take a gasp of oxygen (what we all unnoticeably take for granted) to live for the sprout of a new and courageous soul. But, is this always a foregone conclusion? And can the inevitable be argued against?

To this day, the last name of the man who had restored the monarchy back to its ‘golden age of imperial splendour’ remains fearsomely unknown. Nathaniel was an ostentatiously sophisticated gentleman. He was tall, and he had a pointed nose, golden-brown hair, and an undeniable beauty. He was quite an immaculate gentleman, and it was without any doubt that he was Italian. He also never lacked in vitality; on the contrary, he never had high levels of expressiveness.

Although he was not a man of many words, Nathaniel would surely be the one to hive away and expose anything (be it a spider or anything else) to be of imperil significance in the monarchy. He was the king’s most trusted sleuth. But with that being said, he had learnt from none other than the renowned Jack Hidrat, actually known as RavEagle.

RavEagle was a name given to Jack Hidrat by His Royal Majesty, saying, on the day in question, “for poignantly exhibiting an excellent use of vision, having an unapologetic confidence, and a concentration of the highest instinctiveness, I dub thee, Jack Hidrat, Sir RavEagle.” He was given the name because the characteristics mentioned were those of both a raven and an eagle, but, to be blunt, the man was a force to be reckoned with. However, his ‘death’ was rather unexpected and peculiar.

“Imitation involves a sophisticated cognitive process, but sleuthing, being different, can never be imitated,” Jack said, clamouring the words. Like Nathaniel, he never really said much, but his aura denoted it. “Ah, white ash … oh yes, the Montescrito Cuban cigar.” He had put on a menacing grin, and that was how he trailed off one of the most imposing threats to the Kingdom. He did everything in stealth, and much like a raven, he liked his own space

Jack, being His Majesty’s only and trusted spy, was assuredly put in command of not only what made its way into and took flight from the kingdom, but also the Royal mansion. This tall, well-built, handsome, and recklessly smart gentleman could solve mysteries arising from an insultingly high degree of unnoticeable residents. Mysteries as small the size of a needle’s hole, a perceived odour of something, a glimmer, a flick, or a taste could lead to the unwrapping of a possible conspiracy before it was to be conspired by an adversary of any shape or form.

“There was someone in here,” Jack said to his Royal Majesty after their arrival from the annual meeting. “They came in and used … hide yourself your majesty, they are still present. I can smell their horrendous scent.” He looked like a thirsty tick.

“Relax, would you! There is absolutely no stranger here,” his Royal Majesty responded. “I invited Elton for a board game. It seems he has made himself comfortable. And before you utter any word, I knew that, had I informed you beforehand, you would have found the idea rather preposterous.”

Tell us: What do you think makes someone a great sleuth?