“I’m glad you could make it Mr Arcnis, are you enjoying the festivities?”. Kir nodded and nervously shook his hand.

“Yeah, I’m just trying to find my footing” he glanced in the direction of the black clad lady, Sirani turned that way and found her eyes fixed aggressively on Kir.

“Ah, you seem to have drawn the attention of my daughter's body-guard” the man gave a slight nod and smile at the woman who returned her gaze to her charge.

“Remarkable isn’t she? Of the Scarred Wastes no doubt, from what I understand she comes from a rather powerful warrior tribe that was lost during a crusade funded by the vatican. She came looking for work and once she displayed her strength, I found her to be an excellent body-guard, silent, imposing”.

The man spoke further though Kirs eyes drifted to the couple, the flow of greeting had begun to stem, while one of the last greetings were made the man put his arm around his fiancee which was met with a tiny yet noticeable flinch. Kir noticed following this the woman hidden in the shadow clenched her fist and her left eye twitched. If he hadn’t already been observing and had residual from the inspection spell he cast prior he wouldn’t have noticed anything. Subtly Mr Siranis’s voice began to fade back into focus.

“...Ever since that tool has been released. Regardless. mingle, I’m sure you might find some exciting business prospects”. Kir finished his pleasantries with Sirani and made his way back to loitering.

His bag had been clenched tightly in his hands, the two now empty stability draughts colliding occasionally. Kir hid himself once again, traipsing around the walls. A glass and spoon let out a slight ding across the room causing everyone to silence and look to the source of the noise. A man of similar age to the engaged couple was standing by the band waiting for the chatter to cease.

“And now, to serenade our lovely Lyra and Imon, all the way from the seat of culture in the east, Miss Eryssa Anduvil''. The man gestured to his left bringing focus to the woman standing gracefully before the band. Bouncy blonde hair curled slightly, A tight red dress and gold eyes.

A characteristic that Kir was unable to pinpoint, soft purple gloves up her forearms covered her hands. Soft yet appealing features. Her eyes fluttered as she opened her mouth to sing.

The room's light began to dim, almost out of respect for this musician. Her voice began soft yet slowly built up in a beautiful wail of song. Soft violins accompanied her though they were essentially background noise. Her voice began in simple harmony rising and falling, almost as if a harpy calling one to rocks. Though as she reached a crest in her harmony she began to sing foreign words, the beauty of the angelic performance delayed Kirs ability to register her words, a language that astonished Kir. Celestial, the tongue of Angels, used now mainly in divine magic, songs in such a language were not rare, as simply speaking the language had a certain musicality to it, though these songs were once commonplace they had been lost to time by the ages.

Kir only understood a practical conversational level of the language mixed with words needed for magic, nowhere near enough to comprehend the esoteric ancient magnificence of the song. Her words and pitch rose and fell like the tide, the audience holding onto every second of the performance as if missing a glimpse of it would mean death. Everyone transfixed most didn’t even notice the waves of arcana and shine appearing around her, allowing Kir to smile in understanding.

‘A bard’ he thought to himself, not daring to interrupt the performance. A person that had harnessed the nature of song and performance and shifted it into magic. The song soon came to an end, as all things must. The lights rose once again and everyone stood in absolute silence, not a breath. Almost a minute passed until total raucous applause broke out among the audience. The woman took a slight bow and moved out of sight. The audience soon returned to the normal speech and conversation that once permeated the room.

Kir was able to avoid conversation and found a spot outside that was just enough in the crowd for him to stand out but kept people from approaching him. Kir slid his spellbook out and began to ponder on his arcanum as a way to pass time. Proper research, creation or development of his spellcraft wasn’t really possible in such an environment but he was always able to think on such things, that got him through most of highschool. His study remained relatively undisturbed for the better part of an hour.

“And who are you?” A voice spoke dismissively.

Kir had found his way onto the veranda and sat cross legged in thought. The source revealed itself to be one Lyra Sirani, the newly engaged daughter of the titular mafia crime lord. Her posture had slumped and her attitude hardened from the veneer that she held around her family. She leaned against the railing and pulled out a cigarette, patting her dress for something she sighed and turned to the boy with his head buried in a book.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

“Shit, you got a light?”, Kir tapped his index and middle fingers on his page thrice and a quick spark of flame appeared on the end of the cigarette.

“I’ve never seen that gesture to cast a flame cantrip before, what kind of magic is that”

“Normal evocation cantrip, I came up with the gesture, harmless prestidigitations like that are essentially free reign to do whatever you want in terms of somatics.”

“Right….and I ask again, who are you?”

“I do some work for your father, I’m nobody”. Kir began to bite at the nail on his thumb while staring at a diagram.

"You? You do work for my father?” Kir nodded not removing his eyes from the page

“What kind of work?” Kir lifted his head and glanced at the woman. She looked at him with a risen eyebrow, as if emulating her bodyguard.

“That for example” He gestured with his head to her hand. She looked over her body confused at what he was gesturing to until she landed on her left hand. On her ring finger was a comically large engagement ring and the index finger of the same hand the simple band that Kir had previously returned to her father.

“This? My father gave me this, an old Dwarven tradition”. Kir nodded in affirmation.

“I do enchantment work for him, that has an abjurative ward on the exterior and a divinatory tracking spell etched onto the interior. I just returned it today”. Lyra inspected the ring a bit closer.

“No, dad wouldn’t track me like that”

“I know my own work, run some mana through it if you don’t believe me” He said slightly dismissively. The woman focused on the ring and the same blue lines that appeared when Kir checked it prior lit up around the ring, though slightly dimmer and many of the lines didn’t appear.

“This is terrible, it’s like work I did in grade school”. Kir sighed and stood up, placing his spellbook beside him.

“Give me your hand”.

“Why?” She questioned placing her hand before herself anyway.

Kir gingerly held onto her hand and circulated some magic within the ring, far more intricate and complex lights began to appear along the ring. As Kir was about to let go he heard a stumbling behind him and whipped his head around. Half on the ground trying to prop themselves up was the frightening woman who was the apparent bodyguard of this lady. Though in a weakened position she stood up swiftly and remained silent.

“It’s Ok Mi he was just showing me something” the woman nodded but still sent a piercing glance at Kir not moving. Lyra returned her gaze to the ring.

“Amazing, so you’re a bootleg enchanter?” She asked, studying the craft on the ring.

“No, just a Nebula, your father insisted I come and network, but this is just a side thing to earn some money”. As he mentioned her father a strange glint appeared in Lyra’s eyes.

“Ah yes, my father, I’ll see you, I have an interesting conversation to have”.

“And that's my cue to leave” he concluded once she stormed off into the restaurant. The woman now identified as Mi was still staring keenly at Kir’s face but followed after her charge once Kir let loose an awkward smile. He had a bit longer on the recent stability draught but felt this was his opportunity for his escape.

As expected the return trip was silent. With the exception of a couple of night workers and homeless people, the subway was deserted. The lights of the city still illuminated his path, though the streets were now far colder and desolate.

Kir returned to his home and made his way to the elevator. A sense of calm washed over as he crossed into the building and the possibility of huge crowds went to zero. The elevator groaned with stress put on the cables, not by Kir’s weight but simply the age and wear on the machine itself. The empty and dark floor hallway of his hall filled Kir with comfort as the barely functioning lights flickered in and out of function. A new figure loomed at the very end of the hallway, clad in black, their face obscured in shadow, they fiddled with their key and turned when hearing the elevator doors open.

The figure maintained eye contact or at least where its currently obfuscated eyes would be. Kir found his way to his door, after fumbling with his keys and entering the room the glaring figure turned its head and returned its attention to the door. Paranoid rather than malintententioned it would seem. Noticing that the illusion magic he had put into effect was still active, Kir dismissed it and slumped onto his couch. He recounted the events of the night and swiftly regretted every word he said and sentence he made.

Sirani would probably have his balls next time he showed up, he would survive as he was still a rare source of income, owing to his scarcity. Though relations might be less amicable. Kir flicked his hand nonchalantly and muttered a hybrid draconic-elvish phrase. The sound of cupboard doors opened but nothing else happened.

“Right, forgot, need food till sunday.” Kir let out a heavy sigh as his arm fell over his eyes and a heavy yawn escaped.

Solitude is refreshing, social interactions sent him spiraling into exhaustion. Kirs' eyes began to gently close as sleep began to take him, though it seemed life had other plans as he was startled up by a knocking on the door.

"Please just leave me alone" he mumbled to himself.