1.

‘Are you finally going to tell me where we’re headed?’

This was the sixth time Damien had asked the question and the sixth time he had been ignored. He glared at his teacher, Miles.

The only reason he hadn’t tried to ditch the man was because he could teleport. Though he may have a chance. The black tracksuit the dark-skinned man was wearing showed his lackadaisical state of mind. He wasn’t even looking at Damien. Instead, Miles strolled through Yumekyo admiring the sights like he had never been here before.

Am I not supposed to be the foreigner? Then again. Miles wasn’t native either. He was from a small village in the Q’tan republic.

Damien sighed. It was nighttime already and he was still acclimating to the time zone. To his surprise, though, Miles clasped an arm over his shoulder.

‘Fine! I’ve kept you in the dark long enough. The stargazer—yes, the one and only—gave you a top-secret mission,’ Miles said.

‘No she didn’t.’ A month around Miles was long enough to start learning his tricks. ‘You’re just using me as a scapegoat so you can enjoy a free evening.’

‘There’s a house in the suburbs,’ Miles continued without stopping. ‘An innocent and unaware family chanced upon a foul object. It’s your job to retrieve it.’

Miles smiled at him and handed him a notepad containing more information.

Damien sighed, accepting his fate.

‘And where are you going?’ Damien said.

He wasn’t sure he wanted to know but he asked just because.

‘Me? I’m headed to the casino.’

Say what now.

2.

Damien checked the number on the piece of paper—81. In front of the gate to the house was a golden plaque carrying the same number. This was the place.

He jumped over the fence and landed in the front yard. Stepping up to the entrance revealed a locked door. Obvious. But worth the try. Someone had left the window on the second floor open, though.

Foul energy spread to his legs and a second later Damien was balancing on the window frame. He stepped into the master bedroom. The style was simplistic, a characteristic he could appreciate. The only luxury was a framed family painting laced with diamonds that spanned half of the wall. Two young kids and their parents. It showed them picnicking in a park.

He didn’t know why they weren’t home—school didn’t start for a week, so maybe they were still on vacation. But he hadn’t expected them to be. The stargazer wouldn’t send him thieving if there were civilians at risk.

But civilian risk was precisely why he was here. Damien wasn’t sure how the family had acquired it but the foul object they were in possession of was classified as a special grade. There was no immediate threat since the object was sealed inside a box. However, seals weakened over time. It would attract and maybe even create foulbeasts if left alone.

Proof of the weakening seal was the foul energy Damien sensed hanging in the house—residues of the object penetrating through the seal. He visualised them as a faint trail of purple leading out of the bedroom and out into the hallway.

Damien followed it.

The floorboards didn’t creak—the houses in this part of the suburbs were nearly all newly built. But the quiet in the air was just as unnerving. It felt haunted, this space. And if he hadn’t been certain of his abilities, Damien would’ve thought he was being watched.

There was a single staircase leading down into the living room. He didn’t spend any time surveying it and instead turned a corner, stepping towards the wooden door right underneath the staircase that led into the basement.

He pulled a cord at the top of the stairs. A light sprung, illuminating the way. Unlike the rest of the house, these stairs did squeak. The residues were getting stronger the further down he went. They were like a wave washing over him. The object stored here must be strong to cause such a powerful emanation.

At the bottom floor of the home was a tool shed, which had no doubt been in use by the father. Sturdy shelves lined the walls, each neatly stacked with various tools and gardening equipment.

On one of them was a dust-covered box the size of a backpack. It was a dark blue, with red markings on it. That was what he was looking for. Then he stilled.

The lid was ajar.

Opening the lid further revealed a silk cushion with a definite, spherical imprint in the middle. There was nothing else inside.

That was going to be a problem.

Damien flipped out his phone and dialled Miles. He picked up on the first ring.

‘It’s gone,’ Damien said.

‘I figured as much.’ Miles yawned in his ear—

He sent him out here on a wild-goose chase?!

‘Return to the hotel for tonight. You can start searching again tomorrow.’

Miles hung up, leaving Damien in the mute basement, squeezing his phone in his hand.

He was so going to punch the living shit out of this man…when he got strong enough. It wasn’t because he was scared. He was just buying time. Being strategic mattered.

That’s what he told himself as he strolled back towards the hotel, tails between his legs.

3.

It was early in the afternoon, the sun blessing the busy streets of Yumekyo and Damien was wandering around town. Not aimlessly. The stargazer, being a woman that was a gift from the heavens and a million times more useful than the deadbeat teacher Damien was bound to, had left a list of locations to check out should the object not be where it should’ve been.

Chief among them were pawnshops.

‘It should be somewhere around here…’

A concentration of foul and cele energy to his right caught his attention. Across the street, past Yumekyo Central station, was a haze of purple energy leaking upwards into the sky from the entrance to a building.

Easy Celestas, a sign on the front read.

The shop wasn’t that large. Almost the size of a candy store you would find on a corner, and the doorbell chimed as he walked in.

‘Welcome,’ an old lady behind the counter said.

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

She had her hair in a loose bun and wore a white kimono. He couldn’t see the rest of her because it was blocked by someone else.

A tall lady was standing at the counter with a photo in her hand. Her hair was in a single, thick braid, which must’ve been the work of minutes looking at how unruly it was. She was wearing cargo pants, a sweater, a hat and sunglasses. The classic ‘please don’t remember my face’ outfit. Her shoulders were quite broad and poked through the otherwise baggy shirt. Had she been in the military?

What made her standout, beyond what any piece of clothing could be capable of in Yumekyo, was her almond skin complexion. Though he wouldn’t place her as from the same region as Miles. His teacher’s complexion was darker. He’d place her more to the west. Perhaps along the border with the Kingdom of Mourn.

‘Good afternoon,’ Damien said. The woman looked over her shoulder towards him, and he stole a better glance at the picture.

It was a dagger long enough to qualify as a short sword. And A wide one at that. It had over half the thickness you would expect from a cleaver. The handle was wrapped in brass-coloured leather. The guard was covered in black fur, and the sheathe was painted with the depiction of a winged creature. That was all Damien spied before the woman turned back to the lady at the counter, blocking the view with her back.

Damien wasn’t a sneak. He wasn’t. He was here on a very important mission, which left him with the need to upturn every stone. That’s what he told himself as he inspected the wares of the store and kept his ear on the conversation between the two.

I’m looking for…

Let me see…

Damien was standing in front of a transparent case to the right of the counter, doing his best serious-buyer-inspecting-wares impression. He saw the clerk put on a pair of glasses. They lit up with cele energy a second later.

Oh. Damien was impressed. He had already thought it weird that a random pawnshop would have so many spirit tools—the glass case in front of him with bronze statues of Celestra, random animals, and even some mythical creatures, had a few touched with foul and cele energies—when the clerk was a nomu (non-magic user).

He begun to understand the full scope of this store. There would be no chance of him finding his foul object even if it had been here.

…don’t have, the clerk said after inspecting the picture.

Damien taught her voice had sounded a little too firm, almost as if she had recited a standard answer, further convincing himself of what he was already thinking.

The woman behind the counter noticed it, too. Her shoulders stiffened the barest bit.

Please look again…last remembrance…late-father. …willing to buy it back.

That had been a mistake, Damien thought, without listening to the clerk’s response. The old lady wouldn’t have given the dagger back if she had it laying at her feet, and the woman offered twice the buy-in price.

I told you…

Well look again. I have…a source. I’m with the…NPA…you sure…

The old woman scoffed.

Then start a case….or leave…!

Damien could sense the conversation coming to an end even without the old lady starting to yell, so he made his way outside. There was some fussing. Maybe even cussing. But eventually the woman left.

Damien caught her on the way out.

‘You won’t find it here,’ he said.

‘Pardon?’

He pointed at the image.

‘The item you’re looking for is no longer here.’

He noticed the immediate shift in her stance. From, ‘who is this guy’ to ‘who is this guy?’

‘And you are?’

He shook his head.

‘Who I am doesn’t matter. What matters is that you won’t find what you’re looking for here.’

‘You are certain of this?’

She stepped a bit closer. Not too close. But she was within arm’s reach if Damien leaned forward.

He took a second to choose his words. Spirit energy was a secret and leaking information on it to nomu was punishable. Especially since he was just drafted as a student at Meteora College. They were stingy about their reputation.

‘This shop is a front,’ he finally said.

‘A front, you say.’

‘Yeah. You know how sometimes people find what they think are just old, amateur paintings in their dead grandfather’s shed? Then sell them for next to nothing, only to later find out they’re actually valuable antiques or even lost masterpieces. It’s like that. This shop—’ he stuck out a thumb behind him ‘—buys items from folks who don’t realise their true value, then sells them to those who know exactly what they’re looking at.’

And for a much higher price. That’s why she wouldn’t get the dagger back no matter what she offered for it. He also didn’t think the shop was selling it to just anyone.

Damien couldn’t really see but he suspected the woman’s gaze had turned colder underneath her shades.

‘And who would ‘those’ people be?’

He shrugged.

Yumekyo had a few activities it was famous for among sorcerers—entertainment being one of them. Case in point: Miles. Damien wasn’t even certain if the guy had returned to the hotel.

One of the big events was the bi-yearly auction the city held, which was in a week. If that was where Easy Celestas was selling its wares to, it was better for this woman not to knock on their door. They’d gladly kill a nomu who was making too much trouble and on their ass.

‘I know you’re feeling robbed,’ he said. He tried to think of what he would feel if someone stole his ring, the last remembrance of his mother…it wouldn’t end well for them. ‘But try to let it go,’ he added, not unkind.

She opened her mouth to say something when his phone rang. It was Miles.

‘Yo, missed me? Where are you?’

He tapped the lady on the shoulder, wishing her good luck, and walked off.

‘Near Yumekyo Central,’ Damien said.

‘Great! Meet me…’

Damien nearly squashed his phone in half.

‘Teleport over to me and stop making me walk! Idiot!’

And with that he stomped off.

4.

‘Oi! Over here!’

Some in the line of the food stall selling Ishwari spring rolls looked their way. Miles’s short dreads glistened in the reflection of day and his smile beamed. A few of the women blushed before quickly turning their head.

Miles was holding four rolls in his hand and munching on the tail end of what must be two others.

Seriously. How many of those had he bought?

‘Are you finally done flexing your money?’ Damien said. He knew high ranked sorcerers were paid a lot, but this was too much.

‘Not at all!’

Miles handed Damien an egg roll. More like forced one on him. But that was how life went with Miles.

‘Why did you even go there? I thought you said you didn’t like casinos.’

‘I don’t. Too musty and full of tryhards. However, other people do—‘ he leaned in close ‘—sorcerers with too much money and connections. Makes it a great place to fish for rumours.’

‘Rumours off?’

‘An important item at the auction.’ Miles mimicked a person on stage pointing at bidders, then made an oval shape and winked.

Damien sighed. He had completely wasted his time.

While still playing the joker, Miles said: ‘So, why are you being followed?’

Damien’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t noticed anyone. He spread out his senses—

‘Don’t,’ Miles said. ‘If you suddenly spread your senses like that, it’ll look suspicious. Especially if you also turn your head.’

Damien was embarrassed to admit he was about to. Though he didn’t need his eyes to see spiritually, it was an instinct that was hard to kill.

‘They’re wearing cargo pants and a sweater,’ Miles said.

Damien sighed. He explained what had happened at the pawnshop.

Miles rubbed his chin.

‘I don’t think that woman is a nomu, though.’

‘She isn’t?’

Damien hadn’t caught a whiff of foul or cele energy from her. Then again, he hadn’t inspected her too thoroughly.

‘Well, it’s whatever,’ Miles said.

He showed Damien two movie tickets. He’d never even seen the man grab them.

‘Let’s go. We’re almost late!’

Miles dragged Damien by the arm before the latter could protest.

5.

Silvah had lost the trail of the men from yesterday. She’d followed them all the way to a movie theatre and had even waited for two and a half hours. They never came out. Which was weird because there wasn’t a single movie a bit over an hour and a half running on screens that night. It left Silvah to think they were watching two movies in a row. So she called it quits. There was no telling when they would come out, and she wasn’t one for wasting time like that. She’d simply ask Mirio to search for someone based on their descriptions.

Shouldn’t be too hard for her resident geek. There weren’t that many Qatani people running around in Yumekyo.

However, though she’d lost the trail, the man’s information had given her another. After she knew what to look for, finding holes in the pawnshops finance statements was easy.

Easy Celestas was selling their wares to an auction.

The owner, the old lady, was a woman called Fujita Douko. Married. Most likely, the husband had been the one to buy her father’s items from Nesumi. The sole business on their name was Easy Celestas. Which didn’t make sense if you looked at their bank accounts. There was too much money coming in, all registered under the one store. So, either she was stealing money and lying about her store making it. Or she was telling the truth. The store was making that much money.

However, the priciest of the wares in her store had been 800.000 celestas. So then how was she making near ten million on some of her transactions? Smelled fishy.

Following that trail had led Silvah to discover the auction. It was the name of the account which was sending Fujita the payments: Bai Group. Not only was it the same name every time but it sounded familiar. Where had she heard it…

Memories flashed past and she found it. Uncle Kenichi had once mentioned the name when he was staying over for dinner. She didn’t remember the context. Only that he wanted to buy something there.

That’s when she came across the Bai Auction House. A bi-yearly event hosted by members of the Bai clan. Silvah was a hundred percent certain she would find her items there. The only problem was that the party was on an invite-only basis. She could try to sneak her way in. But a gut feeling told her that wouldn’t be smart. At all.

No matter. Uncle could no doubt help her with that. And he would, gladly: there was another important client of the pawnshop, a name that made Silvah froth at the mouth.

Ryūjin-kai.