Cece’s sighed loudly as she woke up with the morning sun. It had taken her a long time to get to the car she had stowed away, and an even longer time to drive back to the apartment she owned in Astraeve’s capital city. She shouldn’t complain, but she couldn’t help, but wish she had used a teleportation scroll instead. High level magics like teleportation required a lot of mana and skill however, and to translate them into a scroll form meant spending a lot of money. Money she had, but it wouldn’t do to waste one of her valuable scrolls when she didn’t need to. Money was an Alchemetrix's lifeline after all. Even the car was more luxury than almost anyone in the country could afford to have, they had only been commercially available for half a century, but even now they cost more than most people made in five years, but being the sole heiress to a dead mage family has a tendency to come with an abundance of funds. It was one of her more impulsive purchases surely, but she was glad for it. She groggily rolled out of her bed and began getting ready for the day. She used the shower, another consequence of her small fortune was the luxury apartment with hot running water, although she was glad for those less fortunate than her that that wasn’t quite as unobtainable as an automobile. She spent an exacting hour doing her makeup and changing, yet another red dress. She didn’t always dress in red, but it was her color, and she believed in looking her best, especially when having guests. The doorbell rang.
“Never late, never early.” She muttered with a smile, while giving the grandfather clock in her sitting room a glance. She stepped over to the door and opened it to reveal, an older man, perhaps in his late forties-early fifties. He had graying hair, slicked back, and wore a fine suit, neither tall nor short. His only distinguishing feature being a monocle.
“Welcome in Sigmund.”
“Thank you for having me Cecili-” He cut himself off as he looked at her face. “What happened to your eye?” He almost sounded genuinely concerned, it warmed her heart.
“What can I say, I wanted to be just like my favorite financial advisor!” She laughed, pointing towards his monocle.
“Cecilia, that’s not a laughing matter, are you alright.”
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“It’s fine, it’s fine.” She fanned him off. “I’ve seen the doctor about it, it’s a childhood ailment, it won’t effect my work.” She replied, noting he visibly relaxed at the last comment.
“Well, I’m not your father Cecilia, but take care of yourself.” He said seriously. “Shall we get to business?”
“Let’s.” She smiled, gesturing to the two red velvet couches that took up most of the room. She poured them each a cup of tea, as he went over how he had invested her money and her most recent sales. Although she was more than capable of managing her money on her own, it was far simpler to pay Sigmund’s modest percentage to have him take care of her matters for her, especially with how often she traveled to and fro. Furthermore he sold the scroll’s and alchemical materials she produced, and brought her more raw materials to use for her work. It also allowed her a degree of anonymity with her work, although the Alchemetrix mysteriously known only as C.C. was a well respected producer of fine scrolls and reagents, Cecilia Silva was allowed to simply be an unfortunate heiress. She wasn’t sure if she would always want those two to be separate identities, but until Solastria was dead it presented a useful level of obfuscation. It was surprisingly easy since everyone assumed C.C. to be a man, since most Alchemetrixes where. Mage society was more egalitarian, but Alchemetrixes had a culture more in line with other mundanes.
When they were done going over her affairs, she asked the question she had been suppressing out of politeness.
“Did you bring what I asked for?”
“Yes, they’ll be in the delivery tomorrow. If I may ask what do you want gemstones for?”
Gemstones may be beautiful and valuable, but everyone knew they held no magical purpose. Throughout time mages and alchemetrixes sought to find a use for them, surely they weren't just ornaments, but they were as magically inert as paper or bone.
“I read an exciting paper some time ago, and wanted to experiment with them.”
“I got them to your specifications, just be careful.” He replied casting a glance to her eyepatch.
“I will, how else will you get your two and a half percent.” She giggled.
“That’s 5% and you know it young lady.” He grinned.
With that their meeting came to an end. Cece retired to her room with the remainder of her tea. She sat on her vanity stool reading the newspaper. The headline of the day reading “Daemons on the Rise!?”. She laughed after reading the article.
“They really are far too afraid of us.” She muttered, taking the silk flower off her eye to reveal a crimson red sclera, with a daemonic sigil at the center.