Lord Erik wasn’t hard to find. It seemed everywhere the man went, the people sang his praises…loudly. In fact, as soon as he’d left the temple, he’d been stopped by a peasant woman who looked desperate for help. I watched with increasing curiosity as she described to him a fierce monster she’d encountered on the road.

“It was a giant made entirely of wood! I’ve never been so frightened in my life!” she cried.

Lord Erik put a hand on her shoulder. “Be calm, my friend. You are safe within these walls. The beasts you encountered are known to us. I just came from a meeting with Ser Rivan of the Temple of Valencia. He assures me that he and the adventurer’s guild are working together to cull the monsters you’re seeing. All should be well in time.”

“But, how can we feel safe on our own farms until they’re dealt with?”

“I will convene a meeting with the Captain of the Guard, Ser Rivan, and the Guildmaster this evening,” he promised. “We will make sure your homes are taken care of. You have my word.”

A big promise. From any other noble, I might have had doubts, but a paladin of the goddess of heroes…that was another story. At least, it was enough to calm the woman. She thanked the lord profusely and turned away.

To make such a promise and not follow through…that would ruin his credibility as a noble. That was intriguing. Nobles only rule at the discretion of the people they serve. Whether ruling by fear or good-will, a noble must make conditions such that the civilians won’t rise up. Otherwise, they’ll constantly be looking over their shoulder, because one day, one of those beneath them might get lucky.

Now, on Atria, with the standardization of Amsiii, I suspected that there was a lot more wiggle room for unsavory nobles to get their way. A level 2 farmer just doesn’t have any sort of chance against a level 40 noble. But, the odds of that farmer getting the attention of a decently powerful hero wandering through the area? That was a far greater match, and, if they were lucky, one that Amsiii might just smile upon.

Briefly, I wondered what the going experience rate for a level 40 adventurer was, but tossed the idea after a moment’s consideration. Raina would never go for it, and finding a rogue dungeon seemed like a better use of one’s time. Less backlash involved with slaying one of those, especially since Lord Erik seemed well liked by the people he served.

I followed him all afternoon as he made rounds to the various gates and guard checkpoints on the walls. They greeted him with sharp salutes and eager answers to his inquiries. He asked about the state of affairs that day, the number of people entering and leaving town, the number of people who seemed injured and the stories they told. All normal things for a concerned noble to ask.

Once all was said and done and he’d finished the dozen inane errands on his list, he began to walk back up the hill. Aldar Keep was on the north end of town, just past the Guardian Tree. It served as both the defensive castle of the town and as the Lord’s home. It was an impressive structure, built out of gray stones and decorated with long blue banners with both the Griffon standard of Senelar, as well as the crossed swords of the Tendali house crest underneath. Flanking the gates to the keep, two enormous crystal pylons floated just above the ground. I would bet my own tail that those were defensive arrays of some sort, probably powerful ones, too.

This was where things would get interesting. As the Lord passed through the gates, he was met by his attendant who began rattling off everything that had happened while he was away and they began to move towards the keep. However, I could not so easily follow.

The entire afternoon, I’d been able to keep out of his sight by ducking behind carts or eavesdropping from the eaves themselves. I darted over rooftops and hid in shadowed alleyways in order to keep myself unseen by Lord Erik. However, I’d had the benefit of busy streets filled with people and distractions to avoid notice. Now, there was just me, an empty stretch of stones, and three alert guards who probably wouldn’t allow a random cat to just waltz into the Lord’s home.

This was why Raina couldn’t come. Setting aside the issues she’d have of stalking the Lord in the first place, she was simply too big and not nearly graceful enough to do what needed to be done.

Padding quietly out of the guards’ sight, I quickly climbed a nearby tree and deftly walked along the slim branches near the top. The tree had been trimmed back from the wall, but the gardeners had clearly only cared to consider humanoid intruders, not feline ones. I adjusted my paws a few times before springing forward across the expanse between tree and wall.

My claws scratched at the stones as only my front paws reached their mark. It had been slightly further than anticipated, and I scrambled to pull my back half to safety. I pulled myself forward inch by inch until I’d safely clawed my way all the way onto the wall where I flopped briefly.

That was…harder than it should have been…maybe I’d spent too much time around Raina’s shoulders rather than getting around on my own four paws. Or maybe…

I took a moment to consult Amsiii.

System Activation of Welcome to Atria

The Internal school of magic allows a mage to cast spells that augment the body for greater speed, stealth, and endurance. It is in opposition to the Environmental school, and the combined aptitude of both schools may never exceed an individual’s level.

That…was an interesting trade off. If I put points into Internal, I’d be hindering my arguably most useful spells. Both Fire and Telekinesis depended on Environmental Aptitude for range and power. Was it worth hindering their growth just to get a little more speed and stealth?

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

No. I was already good enough. I just needed to try harder. With effort and practice, I was certain I would be able to overcome the physical limitations I was facing. I would not lean on magic as a crutch to make stealth missions like this easier. At least…not yet, anyway.

I stood, swiveling my ears and head back and forth independently. No cries of alarm nor shouts of anger reached me, and so I must be fine. Padding softly to the inner edge, I hopped to the rod holding a banner, then to the roof of a small stable before ultimately making my way back to the ground.

Lord Erik was nowhere in sight. No doubt he’d made his way into the keep already. That was fine. I didn’t need him to be around in order to unearth all his dirty secrets. All I needed to do was get into the keep and dig around for any reason why he might harbor hostilities towards my witch.

No better place to start than with his servants. If there were anything unpleasant about the man, they’d know it before anyone else.

I crept around the edge of the wall, letting my coat blend in with the gray stones and shadows. Around the back, I found a servant’s entrance. After carefully turning the door handle with telekinesis, I edged the door open just a crack and slipped into the darkness within.

It was the scullery room. Several tubs of water and soap waited for the dirty dishes which would come with the Lord’s evening meal. No servants here.

The succulent scent of sizzling fish drifted to my nose and my mouth grew moist. Padding softly through the shadows, I ducked through another door to the kitchens. There, the chef and a few of the maids were hard at work preparing the evening meal for the lord and his son. It smelled so good…I just had to have a taste…

But no! I was on the job! I was in the middle of an investigation! I couldn’t be distracted by simple pleasures like fish…and meats…and more fish…

The scent was overwhelming, but I remained strong! I found a quiet space under a tall table with a low shelf and settled in to listen.

“Such short notice, why does he have to have meetings on such short notice!” complained the chef. “Bless him for always wanting to feed his guests while discussing matters of state, but couldn’t he give us a little more warning?!” The chef was a younger gentleman, maybe a few years older than Raina. No doubt he was exceptionally skilled to have become a noble’s personal chef at such a young age.

“I’d forgive him the urgency if the instructions weren’t so detailed,” answered one of the maids. She folded bread dough and kneaded it down. “But it’s always so particular. Salmon from the south river with exactly two teaspoons of salt, a tablespoon of paprika, and a thousand other spices with exacting quantities.”

“And, if even one thing is off by the slightest degree, we hear about it for weeks,” finished the other one as she pulled those same spices from a cabinet.

“I know it’s not Lord Erik’s fault that his son is such a picky eater,” the first one continued. “But if it were my son, I’d have tanned his hide by now.”

“Especially when he complains when we get it right as often as when we get it wrong.”

“Spoiled brat. If he’s the future of Aldar, then I hope his father lives a long and healthy life.”

The chef sighed. “I hate to say it, but I’d take literally anyone over Kiren. Maybe he’ll find a nice wife who will take care of things for him. I hear the lady of Esta has a daughter who’s lovely in face and spirit.”

“I’m not sure I’d wish him on any wife. That seems cruel.”

“Maybe we’ll get lucky, and he’ll meet with an accident shortly after marriage,” finished the maid kneading bread.

“Shhhhhhh!” The other two in the room hushed her. “Do you want suspicion to fall on us if there’s even a rumored threat to him?”

“Sorry,” she said. The conversation turned to much safer topics, like the weather and their kids.

Dang. Just when things were getting good, they had to go and get some sense in their heads. Then again, they were right to be cautious. The walls had ears…or rather, the space beneath the tables did.

Interesting tidbit, though. Perhaps there were more dirty secrets to be found here than just those regarding Raina. If the young lord was disliked to that extent, there was certainly more of a reason than just being spoiled.

A bit of fish fell to the floor and the chef swore. “Watch the rest for me while I clean up this mess.” Then he shuffled off, grumbling the entire way about how he’d need to calculate the spices all over again.

This was my chance! The maid’s backs were turned. The chef was away! I urged my mana to life and yanked the piece of fish closer to me. I wolfed down the piece, savoring the fish and the spices. It was delicious! I’d never had such a spicy and delightful bit of delectable piscine goodness! Oh! The urge to reach up and grab right from the pan was so tempting it was hard to ignore.

One day…one day, Malzy, you’ll live like the true king among cats! As a god among men, you’ll be able to eat like this every day!

“Oh, no,” one of the maids sighed. “Someone fetch the larder cat. The rats are back. Snatched the mess right off the floor.”

“Chef won’t be happy,” answered the other.

A larder cat? That was most interesting. I’d not actually met any other cats in this town, working or otherwise. It was such a superstitious population that I had started to doubt cats lived anywhere near.

Perhaps…this feline could be made into an ally. Nothing said I couldn’t have hench-cats in addition to my hench-humans, and a hench-cat in the nobleman’s keep could hear all sorts of things…

I breathed deep, searching for a cat scent among the delightful smells of cooking fish and sizzling spices. There was something…something…something that suddenly became overwhelmingly strong.

“Why are we hiding?”

I jumped, gathering every ounce of my self-control not to run out from under the table. Next to me, scooching uncomfortably close, was a white, brown, and cream-colored cat who still sported the soft fur and gangly limbs of a kitten. Her eyes were two different colors, and they pointed in slightly different directions.

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s rude to sneak up on others?” I hissed quietly.

The calico tilted her head in confusion. “No. Never had one. Just been me and my brothers as long as we can remember.”

“Well, it is.” I crouched back down, wrapping my tail around my paws.

“What’s your name!?” the cat asked with entirely too much excitement. “I’m Mouse!”

“Your name is…Mouse?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes! Or sometimes Rat. When they scream Mouse, I come running! It must be my name.” She purred to herself, apparently proud of that name.

This poor, abandoned, misguided kitten. She was barely old enough to be away from the nursery nest and had no one to guide her in the proper manner of a cat.

“If you’re Mouse, what are your brothers named?”

“Oh, I’m the only one with a name,” she explained. “One of my brothers is the stable cat and the other guards the chicken coop!”

A larder cat, a stable cat, and a coop-watcher…not the greatest of allies. They lacked the inside access I really needed in order to discover Lord Erik’s secrets…but it would have to do.

“Come with me, Mouse,” I instructed. “I have a job for you. If you complete it, I will bring you and your brothers a wonderful meal of fish from the finest fisher in town.”

“But, what’s your name?” Mouse asked. “How can I trust you if I don’t know your name. Or are you like my brothers and don’t have a name?”

This insolent piece of scrap fur! How dare she imply that I was on the level of a lesser coopwatcher! I was a magnificent, majestic specimen of catkind. I was formerly a greater demon the likes of whom was feared and reviled by all! I was so great that I’d stolen a name from one of the fiercest demon lords to ever grace Atria.

“My name is Malzifrax, remember it well.”

“Malsi…Malsiiif…Can I just call you Malzy?”

I sighed. “Yes. That’ll do…”