It was a cloudless morning and the sky shone a rich violet hue. It was quiet; so quiet even insects dared not to beat their wings. The Augustine Palace slumbered, a sleep as serene as its mistress had.

A girl stood on the edge of her room, near an open window overlooking the palace grounds. The soft breeze of dawn poured inside, wailing and mourning the night that had just passed. The last vestiges of sleep sunk their teeth against her neck. She roared a silent yawn, shaking off the sleep from her body.

Facing the rising sliver of light on the horizon, a shiver ran down her spine. She clenched her fist and bit her lip. There always was, despite how much she wanted to leave, a sense of anxiety that came with the actual doing.

But there was something she needed to do. She had arrived at that after much convincing of self, and a hundred late night raids on the pantry. It was something that was by all means what she should be doing. She had convinced herself, and by doing so, had cast off the last of her doubts.

“You’re leaving?” The crown prince of the realm walked into the room, surprised at the open window. He saw her wrapped in leather and linen clothes, wearing her boots and instantly knew what she wanted to do. “Do you even know what you’re looking for?”

“I’ll figure it out.”

“My sister says she’ll figure it out. By some manner of luck I suppose, she thinks.” The prince shook his head. “And I cannot convince you out of it?”

“You cannot.”

“Well then, what about food? Shelter? If you aren’t who you are, do you think people will help you?”

“Of course they will,” the girl by the window snorted. “It is after all a good thing to help others.”

“And here I am thinking that people are all bad and selfish,” the prince said with a shrug. “But I shouldn’t lay it on someone who is willing to do something.” He reached into his coat pocket, and produced a round disc held aloft by a length of string. He tossed it towards her.

“What is this?”

“The key to the stables.”

“Why give me this?”

“A whim. Take it. Take my horse. Ride her to the east. That’s the fastest way to begin your journey. There’s a wizard there by the name of Surai. He’ll at least know a little bit more about the cure.”

“You’ve thought about this.”

“Of course.” The prince chuckled. “When you arrive at the city, release Sylph, she will know how to go back here.”

“And how do I find the wizard?”

“Don’t know.” The prince shrugged. “Figure it out yourself.”

The girl looked at him with an expression of mild annoyance, before nodding and stepping foot outside the window.

“Be careful,” the prince said all of a sudden. “I will take care of our mother while you are gone.”

There was a rush of wind and the prince wrinkled his nose. He didn’t say a word, but he sighed deeply. Whether it was borne of frustration, or annoyance, he did not know himself.

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Zach whistled as he tucked the pouch inside his cloak. Its heft told him two things. One, that it was full of pure, clinking gold coins, and two, that he wasn’t going to get hungry today. He ducked further into the crowd, and headed towards the Iron Duck.

Praise be to the rich and stupid, he sang in his head, remembering the fool who’d been walking around carrying a pouch of gold. It had been the easiest catch of his life, a little bump and a shake and they barely even noticed till he’d gone a fair ways away.

His stomach grumbled at the thought of eating meat. He hadn't had meat in weeks and the last one had been half-fouled. He grimaced at the thought. Today, he was going to treat himself to some nice succulent braised pork knuckles. No, no, he shook his head, he ought to buy something even better, a roasted cut of grilled shoulder. He shivered at the mere scent of it, imagining the fragrance of meat being slowly roasted over an open flame. Then he'd eat drink some fine wine, and he'd have stories to tell those fools for weeks.

It hadn’t been a good week for him. The crows had been busted, the prisons full and the jobs he could take were few and far in between. All the dusty windows on Lycia had been shuttered and boarded, and he’d not had a good meal in quite a while. The coats had been patrolling the city with such zeal he thought someone might have put hopper dust on their morning meals. They've even started patrolling the alleys after sunset, burning precious oil just to wander around aimlessly like a bunch of rabid dogs.

“Hey!”

Someone shouted behind him. He frowned, feeling something amiss as he walked. A cold chill brushed against his neck. Yet it was midday, and sunlight glinted off the cobblestone. He felt for the smooth metal of the ring on his left hand, then grasped the hilt of a dagger under his cloak.

A thief always knew when to run for it; those who did not did not stay a thief for long. The crowd thinned as Zach entered into a poorly-lit corner, jumping over a vagrant lying asleep. He flew down the maze of back ends and alleyways, slinking to the shadows as quietly as he could.

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A series of footsteps crept behind him, and his legs burned with the effort of running. He ducked into passageways left and right, past a group of drunks, and entered inside a tavern to confused stares. Up on the second story, he climbed out of a window into the rooftops of Lycia’s slums.

Zach waited for a moment. The world quieted down. He sat down, and sighed, taking out a flask from under his cloak and gulping down a good swig of warm ale to drown his nervousness. He couldn’t quite shake the feeling of being watched off his skin. It was a strange feeling, different from running away from the coats. It was like he’d been hunted in broad daylight.

He exhaled. Still, he’d come off better than he expected. He watched a gaggle of pigeons coo and nest on the chimney tops as he contemplated.

“This is a nice place.” The voice was right behind him.

He drew his dagger and slashed wildly. It drew an arc into the air. A few strands of hair floated off and a strangled yell cut off behind him. Then he threw himself from the roof.

The wind whistled against his ears.

The ground loomed.

Zach twisted in midair. He pointed his left hand downwards.

“Aura!” He screamed.

A storm burst into being under him. He braced himself as it knocked the wind out of his lungs and he nearly spat the ale he had just drunk. He crashed on the ground, wide eyed but alive. There was a dull ache on his ribs, and his ankle was sprained but he dusted himself off.

“You’re fast.”

Something hit him and forced him into the dirt. A foot planted on his back like a vise. He tried to struggle but whoever held him down was heavy.

“How did you do that? Some kind of magic?”

He could tell by the voice that his pursuer was a woman. Quite a young one. Unlikely to be a cloak, he thought. Could be reasoned with.

“May I help you?” He said meekly.

“You have something of mine.”

“I wouldn’t know which one it is ma’am.” He tasted blood in his tongue. “Seeing as I couldn’t see you right now.”

“Admitting you are a thief?” the woman snorted. “Think I could sell you out to the office of the magistrate?”

She laughed and the pressure on him eased as she lifted her foot off. Zeki rolled away, casting his eyes on his assailant.

She wore a gambeson, a pair of thick trousers, and sturdy boots. She had no bags, but a sword on her hip. She wore a cloak that was much too clean for a traveler.

A noble woman?

Her eyes made him pause. They were a little bit too round and slightly too big for her face. Her irises were a radiant amber hue, glowing like flecks of gold or rays of sunlight. Her chestnut brown hair tumbled down to her knees, voluminous like a wild mane. All of it gave her a rather feral appearance. Like she was a touch not human.

“You have my pouch.” The girl crossed her arms. “I’m just trying to get it back, that is all. You don’t have to be so flighty.”

Zach blinked. He’d never seen such a unique person before, so much so he thought to himself the girl must be some sort of nobility. Yet, he had seen the nobles in their carriages as they passed by and not one of them looked like her. Not even their figures were similar; the ladies he had seen were exceedingly dainty, and looked like they were prone to being blown by the wind. In contrast, the girl was rather tall, and well-built.

“Here it is, my lady.” He reached into his own cloak to produce the hefty pouch and threw it towards her. “Not a single cent missing.”

He bowed. It pained him to hand it over, but a girl had chased him off the streets, and caught him easily. He reminded himself not to push his luck. Getting hungry was a better price to pay than dying. So much for that meat, he thought.

Zach forced himself to give her a smile. He knew from experience that strange people liked smiling. He couldn’t help but look at the pouch with greed. The girl tossed it a few times in the air, and seemingly satisfied, chucked it back to him.

“What?” He caught it by sheer reflex.

The girl smirked, and her smile caught him off guard.

“I’m hiring you,” said the girl, matter-of-factly. “Consider that payment in advance.”

“Hiring me?” Zeki’s voice was incredulous. “For what?”

“I need a guide,” said the girl. “I don’t know much about the city, and you seem quite familiar with it.”

But if you’re someone with this much money, even the commandant of the coat and the magistrate themselves will be your personal guide.

He knew he couldn’t flee. That chase earlier had told him so. The girl did not have a single bead of sweat, nor a hint of hurried breath.

“What do you need a guide for?” He asked, narrowing his stare. What could this much money not solve?

“I’m looking for a wizard,” the girl explained. “His name is Surai, I’m told I could find him in this city.”

Zach snorted the moment he heard the name. He rubbed his ring again. The affairs of magical folk were not something to be trifled with. He’d already sheared that sheep once.

“And what if I refuse?”

She paused on the question.

“You won’t," she said.

Zach swallowed down hard. He considered making a run for it. He still had the ring, and the advantage of knowing the ways around.

But a voice in his mind whispered that he should do it. He winced, for he already knew what he would do. It was the same kind of urge that had gotten him beat up and nearly eaten by a gryphon. The same thing that had nearly landed him in the dungeons to rot.

It was her eyes. He could not imagine a singularly unimportant person having eyes such as those. They were magical, and in the dark, shone like a blazing pair of torches. He would even believe it, in fact, if she had told him right there and then that she was the illegitimate princess of the kingdom.

“What is your name?” Zach asked.

“Caelia.”

Zach stuffed the pouch in his pocket. Rubbing his hurt side, he bowed.

“My name’s Zach, then my lady, shall we?”