The next week left Erin without much in the realm of free time. Any time that didn't involve learning basic Signs, trying time and again to commit them to memory so she could vividly imagine them whenever the need arose, she was preparing to move house. Conviction and his ilk expected her to take over her dad's office, in the heart of New Sutton.

Erin hardly wanted to move, she was quite fond of their little home. But it was landmark known to people in the supernatural world, and the resources there were too good to ignore according to Oscar.

And, of course, she had to sneak in bouts of meditation so she could foster the strength in her Golden Core and grew more acclimated to the sensation of her own power. It was a rather basic and rudimentary method, according to Oscar, but it was best to start slow for now.

It was early on a Friday afternoon when they finally found the time to check out the old office out. Oscar knew the way, and Erin was willing to bet he had made the trip plenty of times when her father was still alive. But she saw no point in asking about it. The truth would have probably made her angrier.

Erin was already grappling with enough. The entire walk, through winding streets lined with old Georgian-styled buildings, there was a foreboding sense of apprehension growing in her gut. Not only was she taking her first steps to embrace this strange destiny thrust upon her, but she was also going to be walking into the world of a father she had next to no memories of.

And, in truth, she still had no idea how to feel about the man. Sad that he was dead again? Angry that he'd hidden himself away from her? Terrified that something had murdered her mom, and scared him so bad that he chose to cut himself off from her?

It was a veritable minefield of emotions, and she had no idea how to navigate it. Maybe she never would.

Then again, she apparently had countless centuries with which to do so.

"Here we are," Oscar remarked as they rounded a corner onto Elder Street, lined on either side by squat office buildings and a myriad of cafes and eateries.

"Huh. Never been to this part of the city before," she admitted.

"New Sutton is a big place. Can't imagine you ever would've had much reason to. Especially seein' as how it's pretty far from your old school."

He led the way to a brownstone, identical to those that bordered it on either side, and ascended the brushed ivory steps. Erin lingered at the base of the stairs. "Hey, is that... okay?" she asked, gesturing to a brass plaque on the pillar.

'James Yeats - Occult Private Investigator.'

"Hm? Oh we can get the name changed to yours," Oscar said.

"No, I mean... putting that job title up like that? Won't people ask questions?"

"They haven't before," he replied, giving her a quick wink. "There's a perception filter etched upon the metal. People with magic see right through it, of course. But for a normal person? Their brain automatically replaces the text with something so banal that they have zero in looking any further. The office of a non-existent wallet manufacturer, a law office dedicated to local river fishing law, a call centre owned by a company with the most generic sounding name imaginable... whatever."

"I... see," Erin replied. There was a certain genius to the design. And she was willing to bet plenty of magical strings were being pulled to keep city officials from paying any mind to the building too. "You know, that Conviction guy didn't give me a key or anything. Unless there's a magical solution there."

Oscar shrugged. "Something like that. The house... knows you, in a manner of speaking. It'll open for you, and for me, but remain locked for any strangers who aren't given permission to come inside," he explained.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

She tilted her head to the side as she advanced up the steps. "Well... surely a sorcerer could simply force their way through?"

"They're welcome to try. Wouldn't advise it, personally."

The great red door pushed silently inward under Oscar's hand, leading the way to a broad white-walled foyer. It was, at a glance, not too different from the entryway to any normal business. A glass coffee table sat only a few paces from the door, framed by couches and plush leather chairs.

An assortment of magazines were spread on the surface of the table, covering a variety of topics. Golf, cars, gardening, and... pet jaculus rearing? Erin leaned in for a closer look, and caught sight of the cover: A woman with purple skin and knife-shaped ears, dressed elegantly, with a winged red serpent perched across her shoulders.

"I'm... not gonna dwell on that," she murmured, moving away from the coffee table.

A female voice suddenly trilled in the hallway beyond the foyer. "Is that my new friend?" she called, speaking with an accent unlike any Erin was familiar with.

Oscar winced, quickly turning to Erin. "I may have forgotten to mention this, but this building has a... a housekeeper of sorts. One that isn't exactly human."

Erin shot him an annoyed look. "Would you maybe try not dumping things like this on me out the bl-"

A figure emerged around the corner, a whirlwind of reddened smoke that rapidly morphed itself into a humanoid shape. A girl, just slightly shorter than Erin, with ruby-hued skin and shiny golden eyes. Her hair, like golden straw, ran down toward the small of her back in a pleat.

Initially, Erin believed she was wearing a white dress of some kind. Yet, as she drew nearer, Erin could see that the strange girl was covered by flaps of flesh deliberately woven around her sensitive areas to preserve some sense of modesty for her.

"You are the daughter, yes?" she asked, smiling and flashing some rather sharp teeth.

"I'm... the daughter."

The stranger gripped Erin's hand and shook it with such force that the girl was nearly jerked off balance. "It is good to meet you. It is terrible shame, death of your father. Slain by a bullet, I am told. So cruel! He was good man. Kind and wise. I shall miss him much."

"I er... yes, me too," Erin replied staring into those vibrant, golden eyes. She was so stunned that she only barely registered the mention of a bullet in the back of her mind.

"Very sad. Come, come," she released Erin's hand and made for the doorway. "I have made some mici to enjoy. A welcome gift." her eyes briefly met Oscar's, her expression betraying no emotion. "Oscar."

"Yva," he calmly replied.

As soon as Yva rounded the corner, Erin rounded on her guardian with frantic, boggle-eyed confusion writ large on her face. "Wh-"

"She's a kikimora," Oscar said in a low voice. "A sort of... symbiotic spirit, I suppose you could say. They stay in homes they've been invited into, doing housework in exchange for shelter." He paused, eyes widening as a realisation dawned on him. "But she's not a servant, let me be clear."

"Er... alright."

"You can politely ask her to do things, you can suggest she do things, but do not make orders of her. Kikimora... do not respond well to that," Oscar explained, a nervous smile breaking out across his face.

She followed after him, the hall beyond steadily being filled with the scent of spiced meat. "I'll keep that in mind. She... seems nice." Handshake like a damn bear trap, but nice.

"She is. Kikimoras tend to be, even if they can be... eccentric. Just damn love doing housework. But only of their own volition. Only short-lived fools treat them like servants."

She nodded slowly in understanding. "I guess this sort of thing is just... normal in the magical community?"

"Er, somewhat. Even by most standards, people across the planes find kikimoras to be strange. But they're a well-meaning strange, so nobody has any issues with them."

They passed several partially ajar doors on the way to the kitchen, and Erin couldn't help but peek into each one in passing to sate her own curiosity. The house was hers, after all. One room appeared to be a library, bookshelves lined with weighty tomes. Each spine bore a title, yet it seemed several of them were written in languages she had never seen before.

She also caught sight of an office, or what she assumed to be one, with a desk and expensive computer dominating the rear of the room. She spied a few cabinets lining the walls, packed with a myriad of strange items she had no frame of reference for.

Strange decorations, she tried to tell herself. Ideally not weird magical weapons that could potentially flash fry her if she handled them the wrong way. She'd need to find time to ask Oscar about the particulars, whenever she had a decent grasp of her magic.

A slow, uphill battle, where the deadline of clemency offered by Conviction was fast approaching. Come the end of next week, the word would start to spread about the new Fulcrum being open for business.

Finally, they entered the expansive white-tiled kitchen. A table sat near the back of the well-lit room, sporting a large plate laden with steaming pieces of well-cooked mici. Yet, as Erin looked at the plate, she couldn't help but think that there was something slightly off about the colour. And when she took the scent in, it didn't quite smell like any meat she was familiar with.

The kikimora stopped beside the table, smiled, and offered the duo a curt bow. "Welcome to your new home, Fulcrum. Please, eat well and be happy."

Smiling, Erin gave Yva a nod in gratitude and made for the table. "Eat happy, huh? Thanks, Yva. I'll... try my best."