The night wrapped in a thick blanket of darkness, broken only by the occasional flicker of oil lamps in windows. In the small room, Lucian tossed and turned, his sleep far from peaceful.

In his dreams, screams pierced the air. Faceless figures ran in panic, their cries of terror mixing with the clash of weapons and the roar of flames. He found himself in the midst of chaos, unable to move, unable to help.

He jolted awake, his breath coming in short gasps. Sweat plastered his tunic to his skin as he sat up, trying to shake off the lingering terror of the nightmare. Lucian glanced over at companion's bed, relieved to see the old man still sleeping soundly.

Turning to the window, Lucian saw that night still held sway over the city. The moon hung low in the sky. As he was about to lie back down, a sudden pain lanced through his head.

"Shit," he muttered, pressing his palm to his temple.

The ache was familiar, a sensation he'd come to associate with one person: Linus. Or rather, Apollo, as he now knew him to be.

Drawn by an instinct he couldn't explain, Lucian moved to the window. His eyes scanned the street below, and there, standing in the shadows, was a figure with unmistakable blond hair. Linus stood motionless, his gaze fixed on the inn.

Lucian couldn't hear anything, but he felt a pull, an unspoken summons. He knew Linus wanted to talk, and despite the late hour and the strangeness of the situation, he felt compelled to meet him.

Moving quietly so as not to wake the old man, Lucian pulled on his sandals and grabbed his dagger, tucking it into his belt. He paused at the door, looking back at his sleeping mentor. For a moment, he considered waking Drakon, telling him about Linus. But something held him back. This felt... personal. Something he needed to face alone.

He crept down the creaky stairs, wincing at every sound. The common room was empty, the fire reduced to glowing embers. He slipped out the front door, the cool night air raising goosebumps on his skin.

Linus still stood in the same spot, his figure barely visible in the shadows. As Lucian approached, he felt a mix of emotions - curiosity, apprehension, and a strange sense of suspense. What did his divine uncle want? And why now, in the dead of night?

"I'm here," Lucian said as he drew near. "What's going on? Why all the secrecy?"

Linus turned to face him, his eyes gleaming with an otherworldly light in the darkness. "Walk with me, nephew," he said. "We have much to discuss, and little time to do so."

Without waiting for a response, Linus began to move down the street. Lucian hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the inn. Then, steeling himself, he followed Linus.

Lucian fell into step beside. The streets were empty, their footsteps the only sound breaking the silence of the night. He glanced at his uncle, trying to read his expression in the faint moonlight.

"So, are you going to tell me what this is all about?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity any longer. "Why drag me out of bed in the middle of the night?"

"There's someone here in the city, someone who may have information about your mother's past. "Who is this person?"

"He's known as The Whisperer.

"The Whisperer?"

"You know him?"

"We’re actually trying to meet up with him."

"Perfect timing then."

"But how am I supposed to know anything about my mother's past if I don't even know who this man is?"

Before Linus could answer, a dog trotted out of a nearby alley, its tail wagging as it approached them. Linus stopped, crouching down to pet the animal. As he scratched behind its ears, he turned to Lucian with a cryptic smile.

"Sometimes, the answer to your question lies in the eyes and ears of the animals."

Lucian stared at his uncle, trying to decipher his words. Slowly, realization dawned on him. "Are you saying... I should use animals to gather information?"

Linus nodded, standing up. "Exactly. Come on, put your hand on the dog. Use him to spy on people."

"But how? I don't even know where this hooded man went."

Linus pointed down the street. "The Whisperer's house is that way. Third building on the left, with the red door."

"How did you—nevermind."

"Come now, time’s a wastin."

"I still don’t understand why can’t you just tell me and skip all of this."

"Because in showing you, you’ll understand it more."

"And how is this Whisperer connected to my mother?"

"You’ll see."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

He sighed. "Ok, let’s do this."

Lucian hesitated, looking from the dog to his uncle and back again. This is the second time he’s using this power. He needs the information. And if this could lead him more about his mother, then it's worth the risk.

Taking a deep breath, he knelt beside the dog and placed his hand on its back. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, without warning, a blinding flash of light engulfed him.

When the light faded, Lucian found himself looking up at Linus from a much lower vantage point. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a bark. He had become a dog.

Panic surged through him. He spun in a circle, trying to get his bearings in this new form. His senses were overwhelmed – smells he'd never noticed before assaulted his nose, and he could hear the scurrying of mice in the buildings around them.

"Calm down," Linus said. "Remember, you're still you. Focus on what you want to do."

Lucian took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. He looked up at Linus, tilting his head in question.

"Go to The Whisperer's house," Linus instructed. "Wait for him to leave, then follow him. Observe what he does, where he goes. When you've learned what you can, come back here."

Lucian barked in acknowledgment, then turned and trotted down the street. As he moved, he marveled at how natural it felt to run on four legs. The cool cobblestones under his paws, the way his tail helped him balance – it was all so strange, yet somehow familiar.

He reached the red door Linus had indicated and paused. Now what? He couldn't exactly knock. He settled down in a nearby pillar, his canine eyes fixed on the entrance. Time seemed to crawl by, but Lucian remained alert, his new senses picking up every sound and movement in the quiet street.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the door creaked open. A hooded man emerged, glancing furtively left and right before setting off down the street. Lucian's ears perked up, and he rose to his feet.

Keeping at a distance, Lucian trailed the man through the winding streets of the city. His paws made no sound on the cobblestones, allowing him to stay close without being detected.

Lucian padded through the winding streets, his canine form allowing him to blend into the shadows. As they delved deeper into the city's underbelly, the buildings grew more decrepit, and the air thickened with the stench of decay and unwashed bodies.

The man stopped at a narrow alley, glancing around before slipping into the darkness. Lucian crept closer, pressing his body against the cool stone wall.

"You're late," a gruff voice growled.

"Complications. Do you have the goods?"

A pause, then the sound of rustling fabric. "It's all here. Twenty vials of poppy. Potent stuff. One hit and it’ll knock a man out for days."

"Good. The boss will be pleased."

Coins clinked, hands exchanged parcels, and the deal was done. Lucian's ears twitched as he processed the information. Illegal substances, a mysterious boss – what had he stumbled into?

The hooded man emerged from the alley, continuing his journey through the city. Lucian followed. This was more than just information about his mother; he was witnessing a criminal network in action.

Their next stop was a rundown tavern. The hooded man slipped inside, and Lucian managed to squeeze through a gap in the weathered door. The interior reeked of stale ale and sweat. In a corner booth, the hooded man met with a wiry woman with a scar across her cheek.

"Any problems with the shipment?" the man asked.

The woman shook her head. "Smooth sailing. Customs didn't bat an eye. Your forged documents worked like a charm."

"And the merchandise?"

"Safe in the warehouse. When can we expect payment?"

"The boss wants to inspect the goods first. Meet at the usual spot tomorrow night."

"Make sure he pays up."

"Don’t worry. He will."

As they continued their clandestine journey, Lucian's canine senses picked up snippets of conversations and deals. Forgery, smuggling, blackmail – they might be running a drug empire here.

Their final stop brought them to a grand house in the affluent part of town. Lucian hung back, concealing himself behind a row of manicured hedges as the hooded man approached the ornate gates.

A tall, imposing figure emerged from the shadows of the house. Even from a distance, Lucian could sense an aura of power and danger emanating from this newcomer.

"Report," he commanded.

The hooded man bowed. "All transactions completed as ordered, sir. The poppy is secured, the forged documents worked perfectly, and the smuggled goods are in place."

"Excellent. Anything else?"

The hooded man hesitated. "There have been inquiries about The Whisperer, sir. Strangers in town asking questions."

The tall man's posture stiffened. "Who?"

"A young man and an older companion. They were at The Golden Amphora earlier today."

"I see. Keep an eye on them. If they become a problem, deal with it."

"Yes, sir. What about The Whisperer's location? Should we inform him?"

The tall man waved a dismissive hand. "No need. The house on Siren's Lane is secure. No one suspects a thing."

Lucian's ears perked up. Siren's Lane – that was the information they needed.

"Very well, sir. Will that be all?"

"For now."

The hooded man bowed again and turned to leave. As he passed by Lucian's hiding spot, the dog caught a whiff of something familiar – a scent he'd encountered earlier at the red-doored house.

He waited until both men had disappeared from view before slinking away. His mind was reeling from all he'd learned. Not only had he discovered The Whisperer's location, but he'd also uncovered a vast criminal network operating within the city.

As he made his way back to Linus, and another flash of light, Lucian found himself back in human form, crouching on the ground. He stood up, brushing off his clothes and trying to gather his thoughts.

"Well?" Linus asked, raising an eyebrow. "What did you learn?"

"I know where the Whisperer is."

"Where?"

"Siren Lane."

"You've done well, nephew."

"What do we do now?"

Linus placed a hand on his shoulder. "For now, you rest and get some sleep. Take what you’ve learned and use it. Be careful."

"Is the whisperer going to tell me about my mother?"

"Oh, yes he will."

"How do you know that?"

"Trust me on this one."

Reluctantly, Lucian nodded. The excitement of the night was starting to wear off, and fatigue was setting in. He made his way back to the inn, his mind still buzzing with everything he'd learned.

As he entered The Sailor's Rest, the common room was quiet, with only a few early risers starting their day. He climbed the stairs to his room and slipped inside. Drakon's snores filled the small space. Lucian envied his mentor's peaceful sleep, untouched by the night's revelations.

He sank onto his bed, not bothering to remove his sandals. As exhaustion washed over him, Lucian's last thoughts before drifting off were of the challenges that lay ahead.