Ranun started his works days methodical, consistent, and orderly. He had his priorities planned accordingly and spent every hour of his early day focused and honed in. But every time Ranun went into his day, he believed he could finish everything before sundown.

And, if he kept up his early-day pace, he might. The problem was, as the day waned closer and closer to the end, Ranun tired and slowed, his efficiency deteriorating more and more. There was a point in his day when disinterest replaced ambition, and all Ranun wanted to do was go home so he could undergo the same cycle tomorrow.

But tonight, however, Ranun had looked forward to something for weeks. And it just so happened at the end of his workday.

So, as his door opened and his assistant David walked in, Ranun perked up in his seat.

“He’s here,” David said, with bottles in each hand, both a liter, but one was of plastic, and the other was solid glass. Soda and scotch. “May I send him in?”

“Of course!” Ranun said. He cleared his table of the paperwork, opening space so David could set the drinks and glasses down on the table. Ranun had a two-inch stack of paper below his desk near his foot, what he’d have to work on the following day. Ranun finished about eighty percent of his daily work at a time but concluded that day’s work often in the first two hours of the next.

David rechecked the table, making sure the décor was suitable for Ranun’s guest. It seemed unnecessary, as Kinler was rather… unenthusiastic when it came to appearances. Regardless, Rnaun gave David the okay to leave and have Kinler enter.

His assistant nodded politely and walked out of Ranun’s office. Shortly after, Kinler entered in his agent uniform.

“Ranun,” Kinler nodded, hands open and slightly to the side as if opening himself. “I’ve been meaning to speak with you for a while now. Last time, I gave you a briefing of the circumstances, but of course, you were… predisposed after the unfortunate passing of Gordon. I’ve never expressed my condolences for your loss.”

“I appreciate it,” Ranun said, gesturing for Kinler to sit. It was true, for the past week, Ranun, for lack of a better word, secluded himself from his peers. He simply worked when he could. The emptiness was still a present reality Ranun would suffer through for a while longer, but as one substance leaves, another could enter. It was up to Ranun to make sure whatever that was wasn’t toxic.

“So, how was your first day?” Ranun asked. Really, he wanted to make sure Anemone fitted in well enough with the others, but as his situation with her wasn’t known outside of his family, he had to ask more broad questions leading up to it.

“Decent,” Kinler said. “Some issues, but overall, I think I got a good grasp for everyone’s character.”

“Oh really? And which among them are you most excited for?”

Kinler paused in thought. “Jaxton,” he mused. “That little tests Carter gave me to give him… it blew me away.”

“The puzzles?” Ranun laughed. They were tricky, three-dimensional problems one must solve thoroughly to piece them together, directed by a set of rules that vary from test to test. Pieces were numbered and colored, with instructions requiring specific requirements to fit. At first, the instructions were vague, asking them to work any solid shape together with no holes. Then they upped the complexity, asking for colors to be exclusively on one side or for two colors always to be adjacent to each other. “How did he do?”

“Took him five minutes to put it together the first time,” Kinler said. Not an extraordinary accomplishment by any means, as Ranun himself, had managed similar time. “But his proficiency increased after given more instructions, no matter how difficult. It seems he saw no intrigue about the original puzzle but found his interest in the challenge.”

“What were his times for those?” Ranun asked. For this test to work, the applicant must not know they’re timed.

“Jaxton achieved three minutes, thirty seconds for his second trial, sub-three for his third, and a slightly shorter time for his fourth and final. Which, if I followed the index of Carter’s puzzle, says he has top-of-the-line ingenuity. He can make something of anything—a good situation from a bad.

“Of course, that’s far off into the horizon. Jaxton is smart in every definition but the word. When he learns more about the world and the agencies, I think he’ll be something special. Hell, he might even surpass Carter one day as the brains of Soucrest.”

Ranun laughed. “Carter’s too dense to let anyone surpass him. But… I can see him welcoming aboard an equal.”

“Any reason on why he’s on my team and not his?” Kinler asked.

“You’ll have to ask Carter, I assume. He’s got a full team as it is, but he often gets everything done early regardless. I’m hard-pressed to assume he doesn’t have the time to teach him.”

“My guess is it has to do with a different kind of intellect, one that Carter will hardly ever need, despite ‘intelligence’ being his forte. Jaxton will be better as a strategist, not so much an engineer of some sort.”

“Gordon believed the same,” Ranun noted. “He’s a good kid. His future’s bright. All I hope is he doesn’t blind himself.”

Kinler was the first to move for the drinks on Ranun’s desk, surprisingly taking the soda to fill his glass rather than the scotch. Ranun followed, filling his glass with the fizzy, bubbly clear soda. It tasted sweet with an aftertaste that hung for a few seconds.

Ranun then grinned.

“What?” Kinler asked.

“The solution is easy,” Ranun tittered. “If his bright future is a problem, why not just give him some sunglasses?”

Kinler chuckled at Ranun’s awful joke, but it came off as more genuine than out of politeness. He perked up, finishing his glass of soda, setting it down on the table before letting out a brief sigh, relieved.

After a short, silent moment, Ranun eventually prodded further, seeking more information about Anemone. “And the others? How are they doing?”

“Well, there was some hostility among a few of the agents, unfortunately,” Kinler said. “Burt, as you might have guessed, is behind it.”

“Poor lad,” Ranun shook his head. “What did he do this time?”

“He said some… sexist things regarding Anemone, citing her gender as a reason the team won’t do well.”

“He said what?” Ranun asked, maybe letting his offense bleed through his surprise.

“Burt made it clear he thinks women can’t be warriors, for whatever reason. And honestly, I have no idea if he was genuine or not.”

Ranun shook his head, angry, though trying his best not to seem outraged on Anemone’s behalf. “How did she react?”

“How I imagined,” Kinler said, stretching his arms to his sides, making himself a home in Ranun’s office. “Non-confrontational and quiet. But she was angry alright, subtle like a fox.”

“And how did you deal with this issue?” Ranun asked, expecting something constructive.

Though, Kinler wasn’t any ordinary leader. “I let them fight it out.”

“You what!? You let Anemone fight Burt? Have you lost your damn mind!?” Ranun tensed as he felt as if he exposed his bias. He tried his best to clean up after his carelessness, calming down with a short sip of his glass. Ranun sighed after he swallowed. “He’s a premier swordsman, likely in the top ten sports duelists in the country. Anemone has barely held to a sword longer than a few hours. Excuse me, but that’s plain gross, Kinler.”

“I don’t see the issue, Ranun. I mean, she had the last laugh.”

Ranun paused, then raised a brow, letting Kinler proceed.

“But then again, she also had the last gasp…” Kinler said with the guiltiest face Ranun had ever seen from him. “Don’t worry. I think the fight was healthy for both of them. Burt only won three points to two.”

Anemone scored two points against a star duelist? How in the world did that happen?

“She’s a gifted hand-to-hand fighter,” Kinler said, pouring himself more of the soda. He then made a move for the scotch, dropping a dab in his glass. He took the drink and sipped it slowly. “Possibly even the best I’ve seen my entire life.”

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“Have you seen many martial artists?” Ranun asked.

“No, but I mean, have you?”

Ranun conceded. “I would like to stop by and see her in action myself one of these days. If you permit me.”

Kinler nodded, drink consumed halfway.

There was a lot Ranun wondered about his daughter. He eyed the portrait of his family on his desk and found solace in seeing Aeryn and Calace, even if they were only in the form of a picture. Ranun hadn’t even realized he had nothing really to remember Anemone by other than simple memory.

Now she was gone, out of the house completely. It was like she was born weeks ago but had since grown up enough that she was out on her own. And Ranun worried about that; it was what he did best. In all likelihood—but Ranun couldn’t fully comprehend—Anemone was doing fine, even without Ranun there.

She survived way longer without him there in her life. Ranun only felt guilty. Though he was not responsible, he felt obligated to provide her the childhood she never had. But the problem lying underneath all of that was that she was practically an adult already. At the least, she was a year younger than the defined year of seventeen.

“I think it will all work out,” Kinler eventually said, breaking the silence. He looked at Ranun quizzically as if waiting for a response. Ranun chose instead to focus on the empty glass in his hand. “The agents,” Kinler reaffirmed. “It will all work out among them.”

“Oh, of course. I’d expect nothing less,” Ranun said, snapping back into the conversation. He flushed, feeling the heat in the room rise and his skin a little sweaty. The raindrops on the windows outside made the moments without words stretch longer. “I’m sorry it isn’t perfect right away. I understand and sympathize with your problems of getting your men’s attitudes under control.”

“Hmm? No need to apologize. I prefer it this way,” Kinler flashed a short-lived grin. “My team, my agency, has a lot of colors to them—so many personalities and backgrounds contrasting each other. But it’s better like this. If you gave me a team of six agents that were all alike, I’d have a monotone experience for an easy time. And that’s no fun.

“A painter might take ten hours to create his best piece in black and white and all he’d get is a few awes here and there at a local gallery, but nobody would buy it for less than a hundred gold coins. But give that man the whole rainbow to work with? Yeah, it might take him thousands of hours, but when that piece gets done, that’s what will truly blow the audience away, now isn’t it?”

Ranun smirked. “I didn’t know you see yourself as an artist.”

Kinler frowned unfairly at Ranun’s remark, considering he went through that spiel as if he were, indeed, the one working with all the colors. “I think there is a lot to work with here, Ranun. I really just need time. I’m stuck with a very pissy young man named Burt, whose color might as well be piss-yellow when I need him to be green. Understand?”

“Hardly,” Ranun shook his head. “No, yes, I do. I’ve talked to him in the past, but I can’t imagine what’s been going through his head the past two years.”

Kinler nodded and let it rest. After a short while and a few drinks with friendly chitchat, Kinler opened up the conversation again. “Any questions about the agency?”

Ranun shook his head, realizing anything he wanted to ask Kinler about Anemone, he could just ask her himself. So he let it go. “I have nothing more. Unless you want to speak about something else.”

Ranun expected the conversation to end then and there. Kinler wasn’t one to stay in one place longer than he had to. While Ranun enjoyed the chat, he, too, felt it was near time to retire for the night. Embracing Calace would feel better than any sugary drink could dream of providing.

But then, out of what seemed like nowhere, Kinler said, “I want to ask you a few questions about Herman Benoble.”

“Oh?” Ranun sat forward; his frame cast a shadow over his whiskey-brown desk. “I haven’t heard his name in what feels like years. Have you heard from him?”

“So you two do know each other… And yes, I met him on our way back to Dork.”

“Dork, what was he doing there? I heard he was coming to Soucrest soon for a quick visit. How did you two meet?” Ranun’s questions delivered quickly in succession, like that who heard the news of an old friend. And it was true, Herman was an old friend. And not just because he was on the aging side.

Kinler paused, hesitating from answering Ranun’s question directly. “Who is he? Wasn’t he the king of Gleon for a while? I was a few years younger than you were back then. My history about past Gleonish kings isn’t very sharp.”

“Well,” Ranun sighed. “His status as king is debated. Though Herman claims he surrendered his crown to his son, Benji Benoble, Benji claims he did no such thing. Right now, Benji is acting king, but the Gleonish people, as well as Benji, call Herman the true king of Gleon.”

“Why did he leave the crown to his son?”

“Because that was who he believed was best for the job,” Ranun said. “Though, I think that might have been the last selfish act he ever committed.”

Kinler seemed irked by the response, almost offended.

“Why does this concern you so?” Ranun asked,

Kinler scoffed. He knew Ranun well enough not to lie in front of him, so he chose not to speak at all. “That didn’t answer me. For what reason? He said I should ask you, and then I would understand.”

“Understand what?” Ranun asked.

Kinler looked at Ranun hard. “Please answer me first.”

Ranun sat back in his chair and averted his eyes up to the ceiling. The intricate designs and patterns above him blotting out as he focused on the question. “Who is Herman Benoble,” Ranun scratched his head. “A good person who was once only decent. Why did he leave? Because he believed he could be better. To answer your question, I’d have to provide some context for you to grasp his otherwise… odd character.

“Herman Benoble is a devout follower of Hannan,” Ranun voice scratched to the name, though he continued, making sure he didn’t say that name again. “And through his teachings, Herman found he wasn’t only imperfect, but far from it. He wanted to be the embodiment of compassion and love for all.

“Of course, he sounds mad. Insane even, to give up all he had worked so hard to achieve. But he suffered a lot of loss in his life, from his wife extending back to the Southern War to his daughter dying, I believe, a short while after the Soucrest rebellion. Herman left as gracefully as he could in his position, though he abandoned everything about his former self to start anew.

“Herman sought less knowledge and more the ability to understand everything. He studied the people, even though he could never honestly know. I define Herman as a scholar, an explorer, and an adventurer. He left his sword in Gleon, which some would claim to be as serious as ripping a warrior’s own heart out of his body and tossing it. And I should know, I’ve fought Herman before and lost, and dare I say, he was even better a fighter than Symond.

Most of all, he’s charitable. He never comes off as ‘holier than thou’ or anything pretentious, despite being heavily intertwined with H—his favorite Warrior. He admires elven culture the same as human or swole.

“Ultimately, Herman left to become greater. That’s as much of his story that I’m willing to share with anybody. If you want more, you’ll need to ask him yourself when he visits, which I can arrange.”

Kinler paused for a moment, but a part of him wasn’t satisfied. “So he left everything behind to explore? That can’t be it.”

“That’s far from it, Kinler,” Ranun sighed, defeated. He couldn’t satisfy Kinler without revealing the information Herman entrusted him with. Though, Ranun, through time, started disbelieving the claims in Herman’s stories. “I’m sorry I can’t say more. He’s coming here, though, isn’t he?”

Kinler nodded.

“You can ask for his information there, though I’m by no means endorse what he might tell you. At least not necessarily.”

“Very well, I’ll be happy to talk to him when he gets here,” Kinler said, pouring another drink of straight scotch this time, no soda. He took the drink carefully to his mouth, but before he took a sip, he asked, “And you trust he’s a good person?”

“With my heart,” Ranun said. He watched Kinler swallow the drink down without removing eye contact. “Herman was responsible for many deaths in the past. But I think, after he left Gleon, he saved many, many more than he would have otherwise. Some credit this time of Valorian peace to me, but I suspect Herman is the prime reason behind it all.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” Kinler eventually said.

“Then we’ve come to an understanding?” Ranun asked.

Kinler set his glass down gently and nodded.

Ranun could have let the matter drop there, but he was curious. And curiosity led to dragging conversations out to an uncomfortable length. “How did you two even meet anyway? What are the chances of your paths crossing like that in the first place.”

“Small world,” Kinler shrugged. “If anything, I’d think you’d be more intrigued to learn about Anemone’s interaction with him.”

Ranun raised a brow. It was almost like Ranun had forgotten Anemone went to Dork with Kinler. “And why is that?”

“Herm and I were speaking briefly in… a field. And Anemone came up, and the old man introduced himself. And he kindly asked for Anemone’s name, which she provided readily. Then, Herman asked who gave her that name.” Kinler paused for a second. And for a moment, it felt like someone was reading Ranun’s expression instead of the other way around. Odd, how exposed he felt. “Anemone said it was her father who had given her the name. And it might be an oddity, something that came out of awkwardness to the question, but I find it a little strange. You know, considering it was you who named her, right?”

Ranun laughed nervously. But what did he say to that? What could he say? Well, when in doubt, a half-truth always worked. “I’m flattered if she looks at me in that light.”

“Uh-huh,” Kinler said. He shook his head. “I’ve had something I needed to tell you for a while now, but its importance is dependent on however you answer my next question.”

Ranun took a quick sip of his drink, seeing a storm of a setup before him. He took a deep breath, bracing himself for the question ahead. “Shoot.”

“Just how important is Anemone to you?” Kinler asked.

Taken aback, Ranun opened his mouth to silence. Such a hard-hitting question required the utmost delicacy to handle.

Do I and deny everything? No, I’m too bad of a liar, and it will only cause suspicion. A half-truth? Well, I’ve already said one of those this conversation. Ranun sighed, opting to say a most-truth.

“Anemone’s importance, to me, is significant,” Ranun said with nothing more to add. It came out heartfelt and bold. He finished with a stare reaffirming his silence

“Oh, very well then,” Kinler nodded. He stood from his seat in a motion that felt so quick, too soon. His hand extended over the table. “Thanks for the chat, Ranun. I enjoyed this. Let’s do this more often when we get the time.”

Ranun, confused, stood up himself, accepting Kinler’s firm handshake. The newly appointed agent-general turned his way to the door.

“Wait,” Ranun stopped him before he left his office. “You said you had something important to tell me.”

“That’s right,” Kinler said. “I had something important to tell you. No longer. It’s no longer information I care to share. Thanks again! See you later, goodbye.”

Kinler hurried out of the room fast so as not to clarify.

Ranun dropped to his chair, taking in a barrage of varying emotions. A part of him felt exposed and another relieved. He didn’t fully admit it to Kinler, but he might as well have. Regardless, Kinler wasn’t one to gossip about somebody’s personal matters, but instead, respect it.

After a longer day than usual, Ranun readied himself to leave. As he tidied up his desk, he carried the glasses and leftover drink to the breakroom.

Every light in his way, Ranun clicked off. First to enter, last to leave.

But it wasn’t until he left that he started thinking about it. Why and what, because of Ranun’s answer, did Kinler hold back from telling Ranun?

And why, when the conversation was mostly about Herm, did it depend on how Ranun considered Anemone?

Then it clicked.