Asher stood in the dimly lit warehouse, the heavy crate of stolen relics at his feet, its weight a constant reminder of the job they’d just pulled off. He glanced at Clarissa, who had just finished questioning the injured shadewalker.

“We need to find out where she got her potion,” Clarissa said, her tone steady despite the chaos of their encounter.

Asher nodded. The girl lay on the floor, handcuffed and breathing heavily, her dark eyes glaring at them with a mix of pain and defiance. She had been a formidable opponent, but now her spirit seemed to waver.

“Don’t think your little gang of Crows intimidates me,” the shadewalker spat, trying to lift her chin despite the pain etched across her face. “You think you can waltz in here and take me down? You’re just another hypocritical bastard, like the rest of them.”

Asher’s jaw tightened. “We’re not here to discuss the Emissaries. We want to know how you acquired your potion. I don’t want to hear about the Crows.”

She let out a harsh laugh that quickly turned into a cough, clutching her side where Asher's dagger had injured her. “Why would I tell you? You’re just a pawn in their game.”

His irritation flared at her mocking tone. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he leaned in closer. “Tell me where you got it. You have connections; I know you do.”

Clarissa stepped closer, her expression softening slightly. “You’re injured. If you help us, we can get you medical attention. Just tell us what we need to know.”

The shadewalker hesitated, her eyes darting between Asher and Clarissa, the fight within her dimming. “Fine,” she muttered, “but you better keep your word. I bought it at an underground marketplace. One of the stall owners there. They don’t know what I’m doing, but they’ve got everything I need. It’s all through the black market.”

Asher exchanged a quick glance with Clarissa, their thoughts aligning in unspoken understanding. “Who is it? Name names.”

“Can’t... Can’t tell you. I didn’t get his name. Just met him by chance. He said he could guarantee the product,” the girl’s voice trembled as she spoke, each word seeming to drain her energy further.

“You’re lying,” Asher pressed, his tone sharp. “You must have some idea. Think. Who else was there?”

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Her gaze faltered. “He had a scar. A bad one on his face. I thought he was just some thug, but he knew things—knew people. He said he could help me... if I had the coin.”

“Scarred face,” Asher repeated, mentally cataloging the information. “How did you find him?”

“Through one of my dad's friends. His son took me to the market. A secret one. It’s not safe for me to be seen there, but I had my ways.” Her voice was barely above a whisper now, the gravity of her situation sinking in.

Asher knelt beside her, lowering his voice. “If we let you go, you’ll be back in the shadows, right? Think about your family. If they knew what you were doing, they’d cut you off.”

Her expression flickered with doubt, and for a moment, Asher saw a glimmer of vulnerability beneath her bravado. “I... I just wanted to prove myself. I thought I could be someone.”

“Being someone doesn’t mean stealing from the city,” he said firmly. “Help us, and maybe we can help you.”

The girl hesitated, tears pooling in her eyes. “I’ll... I’ll try. Just get me out of here, please.”

Clarissa knelt next to her, gently touching her shoulder. “Let’s get you some help, and you can tell us everything you know.”

With the shadewalker subdued and reluctantly cooperating, Asher stepped back, taking a moment to process the information.

"I'll stay here with her. Go tell Eric to bring the carriage, please, Clarissa."

"Got it. I won’t take long."

About half an hour later, the carriage came trotting down the dark alleyway leading to the warehouse. The shadewalker looked worse for wear; they would have to stop by the central emissary.

Eric plopped out of the driver’s seat and quickly assessed the situation.

“Did you get anything?” he asked, glancing at the crate, then at the shadewalker slumped against the wall.

“We need to bring the crate and her back to the firm,” Asher said.

“Some leads,” Asher added, his voice steady. “She knows someone connected to the black market selling shadewalker potions.”

“Great,” Eric said, his brow furrowing as he glanced at the girl. “What now?”

“We interrogate her more at the firm,” Clarissa stated, her gaze unwavering. “She has information we need, and we can’t let her go until we get it all.”

Asher nodded, glancing back at the crate. “We’ll sort it out. Let’s move.”

As they loaded the shadewalker into the carriage, Asher’s mind raced with the implications of their findings. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. The corporate elite of Menthil held many secrets, and he wasn't excited to uncover them, especially if it meant stepping deeper into the shadows.

As the carriage rolled away from the warehouse, the moon hung high in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the cobblestone streets of Menthil. Asher stared out into the darkness, the weight of the world pressing down on him, but a fire ignited within him. The hunt for the source had only just begun.

Once they arrived at the firm, Asher helped Eric unload the crate and guided the shadewalker inside. Captain was waiting, his expression serious.

“What do we have?” he asked, eyeing the crate.

“Stolen relics,” Asher replied, gesturing to the contents. “But we need to find out where she got her shadewalker potion first.”

Captain nodded, motioning for the shadewalker to follow him into the interrogation room. Asher watched as she disappeared behind the door, the weight of the night pressing down on him.

Hours later, he returned home, exhausted but restless. The night felt like it had stretched on forever, the events swirling in his mind. He fell into a fitful sleep, dreams filled with shadows and whispers of secrets yet to be uncovered.

The following afternoon, Asher arrived at the firm after some much-needed sleep. He was greeted by Clarissa in the lobby, her expression serious. “We have the results of the interrogation,” she said, stepping inside.

“What did they find out?” Asher asked, his heart pounding.

“She’s a child of one of Menthil’s corporate magnates,” Clarissa replied. “Her family is wealthy and powerful, and she used their connections to get the shadewalker potion from the black market, unbeknownst to them.”

“So, not much more than we already knew. Seems she was honest.”