Esmeralda arrived in Xanth, the capital of Xandra, by windskiff and stood outside the office of Agent Rowlin, the Vestigare branch leader. He had summoned her just days after she wrapped up the Marlowe Aerofinch case, where she had carefully staged the evidence to fit her story. Her report had led agents to uncover Aerofinch’s stash of contraband—exactly the kind of success that would boost Rowlin’s standing. Usually, congratulations were handled via messenger or at formal events. So why had he called her in after a case that should have already earned him praise?
The door to the office swung open, revealing a tall, thin Arzan man with an air of formality. His presence was marked by a subtle scent of polished wood and ink, hinting at the meticulous nature of his role.
“Agent Rowlin will see you now,” the Arzan said as he exited.
Esmeralda assumed that was Agent Rowlin's assistant and entered the room. Esmeralda looked over her shoulder, wondering if she should close the door behind her, and the Arzan gave a slight bow of his head as he did it.
Esmeralda barely had time to reflect on her brief interaction with Rowlin’s assistant; her attention was immediately drawn to the vast expanse of the office. The room was so enormous it could easily fit two windskiffs side by side, with space to spare, a stark reminder of the authority Rowlin commanded. The emptiness amplified the cold, imposing atmosphere, as though the height of the very walls were designed to keep visitors off-balance, reminding them of their insignificance. It felt less like an office and more like a courtroom where every word and gesture would be judged.
Dominating the center was a large, impeccably polished desk, behind which sat another Arzan, impeccably dressed and exuding authority.
“Agent Esmeralda, so glad you could make it,” the Arzan said, standing to greet her.
“Agent Rowlin, I presume?”
“Indeed. Forgive me for my lack of manners,” Agent Rowlin answered, bowing his head in acknowledgment before continuing, “Please, have a seat.”
He gestured to the two chairs positioned in front of his desk.
Esmeralda followed the agent’s suggestion and sat. As she settled into the plush, comfortable chair, she took a better look at her superior.
Agent Rowlin stood well over a hand taller than Esmeralda, his height lending him both an imposing and elegant air. His every movement carried the grace of a seasoned swordsman, poised and deliberate. Light-blue skin accentuated his sharp, angular features, giving him an almost sculptural quality, as if he were carved from a solid block of topaz. The black silks he wore draped fluidly over his frame, with a light-blue, half capelet hanging from his left shoulder, a subtle yet striking contrast that hinted at both authority and formality, even in the confines of his office.
Esmeralda willed herself to ignore how good-looking Agent Rowlin was. She didn’t need any mental distractions, but she was finding it difficult to keep her mind off his handsome features.
“You are probably wondering why I called you here,” Agent Rowlin began, jolting Esmeralda from her thoughts and refocusing her attention on the impending conversation.
“I called you here to personally commend you for your exceptional handling of the Marlowe Aerofinch case.”
“Thank you, sir. I hope to make an impact.”
“Bravo!” Agent Rowlin slapped his hand against the polished desk, making Esmeralda flinch from the loud slap.
“The Vestigare needs more young agents like you. Agents with aspirations to make the world better. Agents who are not scared to seek out wrongdoing and evil on their own and are willing to take risks in Xandra. You have shown savvy beyond your experience, and I implore you to continue making moves as you did with Marlowe Aerofinch. Unfortunately, I cannot give the official endorsement of my office yet, so make sure your leads are solid because I cannot guarantee your protection. However, if you bring me another large case of two, a promotion will be yours, and we can discuss ways that I could support you publicly.”
Just weeks ago, she had been immersed in physical training as a recruit; now, a Branch Agent was offering her unofficial authority for high-level Vestigare work. The sudden shift left her head spinning.
“Keep in mind, this endorsement isn’t official yet, but I’m confident you have a promising future ahead,” Agent Rowlin said, rising to his feet, his tone underscoring both encouragement and the weight of his expectations.
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Esmeralda sensed the meeting drawing to a close and followed Agent Rowlin’s lead, rising from her seat. “Thank you for the encouragement. I’ll take your words to heart,” she said.
The Branch Agent flashed a handsome smile, satisfied that she grasped the unspoken implications behind his praise.
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Once back in Xandelfi, Esmeralda enlisted Agent Giovanni to track down the second name on Balrik’s list: Sebastian Blanko. Giovanni provided not only the smuggler’s location but detailed floor plans of his warehouse near the windship docks.
Esmeralda reached the warehouse just before dawn, her heavy backpack dragging on her shoulders, but the adrenaline of the hunt propelled her upward. In practiced silence, she slipped through a window and positioned herself on the roof. She found herself in the perfect vantage point above the warehouse floor.
Esmeralda assembled her heavy crossbow from her backpack, loading it with a thick bolt before setting it aside. After she settled into her sniper perch and her eyes adjusted to the dark of the warehouse, Esmeralda started piecing together her surroundings.
The warehouse floor was lined with oversized animal cages, arranged in neat rows like a carefully planted field. The thick stench of excrement clung to the air, curling into her nose and dragging up memories she’d fought to bury—memories of her own time in cages. She blinked the images away, forcing her focus back to the present.
The foul air dragged her back to when, as a toddler, she huddled in the corner of a cage, knees pulled to her chin. She’d grown numb to the stench of filth, but the rot of her dead cellmate still clawed at the edges of her mind.
A sharp clank echoed through the warehouse as the lock disengaged, snapping Esmeralda out of her memories. The door creaked open.
A Xandran, holding a lantern, entered the warehouse. The Xandran had slouched shoulders and was dressed in modest clothing. He jangled the keyring on his belt until he found the key he was looking for and walked out of Esmeralda’s line of sight. She heard the familiar sound of a cage lock disengaging. A few moments later, the Xandran returned to view with a small Ramon boy in tow.
The Xandran turned and smiled at the child.
“Did you finish, Roland?” he asked the Ramon boy.
“Yes, Master Sebastian,” Roland replied cheerfully, holding a leather-bound book.
The boy confirmed that the Xandran was the target, and Esmeralda trained her crossbow at Sebastian. She took a steadying breath before resting her index finger on the trigger.
“Please, call me Papa,” Sebastian affectionately said as he took the book from Roland and ruffled his hair.
She had a perfect shot. Just one pull of the trigger. But her vision blurred with unshed tears, her hands trembling. Suddenly, nothing made sense.
“You are a really special boy, aren’t you, Roland? You memorized your letters, and you have a real head for numbers. That’s why the gods showed you to me so I could save you.”
Esmeralda couldn’t hold it any longer, and a sob escaped from her lips. The warehouse was so quiet that Esmeralda might as well have been screeching.
“Who is there?” Sebastian demanded, whipping his gaze in Esmeralda’s direction.
Panic overtook her, and she squeezed the trigger. The bolt shot forward, slamming into Sebastian’s shoulder, spinning him like a child’s top.
Esmeralda looked over the railing, figured it was far too risky of a jump to make, and started reloading the crossbow. Esmeralda tried to keep an eye on her target while loading the bolt and saw the boy helping Sebastian to his feet.
“Vestigare! Stop where you are!” Esmeralda screamed. She felt ridiculous saying the words, but it could buy her some time.
Sebastian ignored her as he and the boy scrambled to leave the warehouse.
Esmeralda scrambled back through the window and dropped to the street below. There was no sign of Sebastian or the Ramon boy. They had vanished into the dark streets, leaving her alone with the daemons of her past.
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Hours later, the once-silent warehouse was teeming with Vestigare agents, circling like kaw over a fresh corpse. Yet despite the flurry of activity, a heavy sense of failure lodged itself in Esmeralda’s gut.
“Agent Esmeralda?” a familiar voice called to her, snapping her back to reality. She looked up to see the Nawahl agent, Agent Suri.
“Agent Suri, how can I help?”
“I need to review your statement to ensure we have everything for the report,” Agent Suri explained.
“Of course, Agent Suri, anything you need.”
He nodded before unfolding a parchment.
“According to this, you arrived early in the morning because you received information from a reliable source that Sebastian Blanko was smuggling slaves.”
“Yes. That is accurate.”
Suri nodded again before continuing.
“You waited for Sebastian Blanko, identified yourself as a Vestigare agent, and the culprit fled. Despite giving chase, he had too much of a lead and used his knowledge of the area to escape.”
“Again, correct.”
“You used his refusal to engage in conversation as probable cause to enter the warehouse and the slaving operation. From there, you contacted the Vestigare and waited for the investigation to begin.”
“Perfect. That is what happened."
“Wonderful work, Agent Esmeralda. The people you saved today will pray for you to whichever gods they worship,” Agent Suri said, folding the parchment with practiced precision.
Esmeralda forced a smile, but the praise barely registered. Her mind was already elsewhere, wondering if any gods would protect her once Balrik learned of her failure.