Inspector Kint grimaced, the sound of rattling pipes above startling him from a daydream. He stood sharply, a sprinkling of dust tickling his ears.
“Damned pipes.” He muttered, brushing the flakes of rust from his hair and shoulders. The pipes rattled again. He watched as rust fell from the fitting where a group of them were bolted onto the towering stone aqueduct.
A once beautiful structure, tainted by technology.
Muffled screams emanated from the cozy wooden home before him. Kint’s frown deepened. He pulled a pipe out of his dark cloak, then the tobacco tin from his pants. He patted the other side of the cloak, searching for his tinder box.
“Can’t even light the damned thing.” He grumbled.
He turned, searching the foggy cobbled street. The Shroud was particularly thick this morning.
Finding what he was looking for, Kint strode to where an elbow poked out from behind one of the Aqueducts many pillars.
Coming around the side, he found an old man. The man was dressed in a sharp courier’s uniform of Vorvan purple and black. He sat in a stiff wooden chair, asleep.
Kint laid a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder, startling him awake.
“Lightning strike me!” He blinked, eyes widening as he recognized Kint’s uniform. The old man pushed himself to stand, smoothing down his wrinkled outfit.
“I’m terribly sorry, terribly sorry Inspector. It’s… it’s truly not my measure to be sleepin' on the job.” He apologized.
Kint raised an eyebrow. The old man fidgeted, anxious.
“It’s not my measure sir, truly.” He repeated. His lilting provincial accent made it difficult for Kint understand. “It’s just… It’s a double shift, and The Shroud’s so thick... Agh!" The words tumbled out of the old Courier. "I try to keep myself together, Inspector, truly I do. But the sleep don’t come like it used to and the acolytes are on our beat and my friend Narm… he got let go, so the double shifts are taking the life right out of me bones. And I don’t got too much left I imagine.” His shoulders slumped, eyes dropping as the wind left his sails. “It’s not my measure sir… It’s just not.” He murmured, resigned.
Kint observed the old man, trembling. Like his life was in Kint’s hands.
“What happened to Narm?” He asked.
The old man gave him a skittish look. “Got caught sleepin’…” He muttered.
Kint huffed out a laugh. “It’s a good thing I’m not an Acolyte, friend… or you’d be fucked.” Kint raised his full pipe to the confused courier. “I’m just here for a light.” The man stared at him, then glanced down at the pipe. He grinned, trying to soothe the man's nerves.
Realization dawned on the old man, his wrinkles loosening. A warmth bloomed across his wizened face.
“Prophet help me…” He sighed. “Here.'' He held his pointer finger over the bowl. A subtle haze formed around the top of the bowl. Wrinkles scrunched at the corners of the man's eyes with the effort. The leaf began to smolder, then burn.
Kint nodded, thanking the man. He took a pull, enjoying the smooth tobacco smoke. The old courier sat back down. He pulled out a pipe of his own, packing it with steady hands. He lit the tobacco with the same precision as before.
“You’ve got some control there.” Kint commented. The older man nodded, sucking in his first puff. “That's Shaper level work...”
The graying courier raised an eyebrow. “You’ve a good eye, sir. Though I s’pose that’s to be expected.” He smiled, taking another puff, fumes pushing through his teeth. “I’m almost a Shaper. At least, I did Shaper’s work in the homeland.”
“What brought you here?” Kint questioned, surprised that a Kadenite Mage at his level would move away from the Vorvan Provinces. In the Provinces, Shapers were always useful. Even Waver Class Mages had value in the Provinces. But here in the Districts, a Kadenite Mage was just another factory worker. Another cog in the Machine.
“I’d always had the itch for some action. Ya know?" The Courier grunted, eyes growing distant. "I heard there was a new lord of the 13th trying to make a go of it. So, I came out here, thinkin’ they’d need skilled hands for skilled labor.”
“Did they?” Kint probed.
“They did… And they still do. But…” A wry smile crept over the man's face, “But that’s not how things work... I'm just a Kadenite in Kaden City.”
Kint grunted another laugh. It was a story often heard under the canopy of the Stalwart Tree.
The two men sat in silence after that. The smooth tobacco smoke massaged their frayed nerves, soothing their tired minds. Just two Kadenites in Kaden City.
The courier broke the silence, “God’s take me.” He Chuckled. “When I saw that face of yours looking down at me… I could feel the lashes already.” The Old man looked up at Kint's grim face. “No offense, sir” He stammered.
“Lashes?” Kint questioned.
“Aye, twenty of ‘em.” replied the old man. “Narm’s been laid up for weeks. They won’t even let him see a Priestess to fix it.”
“Doesn’t seem like a lashing offense.” Kint commented. Smoke spilled from his lips, intermingling with the swirling Shroud.
“It didn’t used to be.” The courier replied. “But it’s like I said. The Acolytes are tightenin' things up. Sending a message.”
“It doesn’t seem to have worked.” Kint noted.
The old man grimaced. “Like I said. Sleep don’t come so easy…” A young sun pierced the Shroud, spreading shadows across his face. “And I don’t much like it when it does.”
There was a thump, then a creaking of hinges. The front door of the house behind them swung open. Both men turned, the courier craning his neck around the Aqueduct to see the source of the noise.
A tall lithe figure stepped confidently through the door, the mist parting around her black clad form like a sea of smoke.
She had long blonde hair, and wore a suit similar to Kint’s. Her black pants, coat, and a purple tie fit snug to her body, accentuating her feminine form. She paused on the porch, taking a deep breath of fresh air.
Spotting him she made her way over. A sudden wind blew past her. It carried the smell from the open door behind. Kint’s eye twitched at the sulfurous stench. He glanced to the side, grimacing. The Courier’s face had gone sheet white.
Kint sighed, mourning the life of their conversation, extinguished with a smell.
He placed a hand on the man’s shoulder.
The Courier flinched.
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“Thanks for the light.” Kint said, joining his partner.
He heard a distracted “Aye…” behind him as the two Inspectors met on the road.
Elsha holstered her domination stick, a black cudgel with red ruby inlays. She nodded to Kint’s pipe, peeling off a pair of black gloves. “I’m going to need one of those.” She commented. “Sin tastes like shit.”
“There’s a park down the road.” Kint grumbled, nodding towards the end of the street.
__________________________________________________________________
Kint sat on a wood bench at the edge of a park walled in with trees. The grass was lush, the birds vocal, and the sun was just cutting through the Shroud, giving its remnants an orange tint. Kint liked this park. It was a world apart from the rust, and the rattling pipes.
The only structure that stood in the open field was a large steel fountain. It was shaped like the Stalwart Tree, whose massive canopy was visible over the rooftops in front of him, only slightly obscured by the shroud. A statue of the Prophet stood at the base of the tree, hand pressed against it’s trunk. Kaden Ignus was said to have grown the towering tree from a seedling to its full height in a single day.
Elsha made her way back from the fountain, squeezing water from her hair. Slick blond locks rested in a mop on her shoulder. She reached into her coat pocket, pulling out a gold cigarette tin. With her delicate fingers she pulled out the pipette, placing a cigarette at the wider end. She held it in her hand like a chalice. She pointed a finger at the tip of the cigarette from below. A stream of flame erupted from the finger, lighting the cigarette, and disappeared just as quickly. The power came easy to her, marking her blood as Blessed. She was not 'Just another Kadenite in Kaden City'.
She stood, Shrouded sunlight framing her face in shadows. She breathed deep of the soothing smoke, releasing a graceful exhale.
“Enjoying the show?” She asked, with a side eyed glance. Kint had been staring at her. Enjoying the fluidity, the effortlesness of her beauty.
He pulled his own pipe from his lips and barked, “Your beauty is the most interesting thing about you. Might as well enjoy it.”
“I'm glad you enjoyed it.” She replied, grinning. "You looked positively dismal earlier."
Kint’s eyebrow twitched. “Just the thought of another day with you will do that to a man.” He quipped.
“I am lovely in every way, and you know it.” Elsha tittered. A predatory smile on her lips. “I’m sure that older gentleman you were speaking with earlier would agree.”
“I think you’ve scared him enough for one morning.”
“Oh I don’t know…” Elsha pondered, putting a finger to her pursed lips. “The Couriers outfit was quite fetching. I can appreciate a man of... experience.”
“He’s a good man.” Kint grumbled, taking a small puff. “He probably has a wife, Elsha…”
“Now that’s a challenge.” She cooed, hunger in her eyes.
Kint gave her a flat look. Pipe clasped firmly in his teeth.
She rolled her eyes, returning an exasperated sigh. “Oh don’t worry.” She groaned. Tapping her pipette to ash her cigarette. “He’s not even close to my type. Besides, families are…” She drew deeply from the cigarette. “Messy…” She exhaled.
Elsha put a hand on his shoulder, lowering herself into a seat beside him. She gave him a hurt look. “After all this time… do you truly think so little of me?” She whispered.
He met her big, dark eyes. “If I thought any less of you…” He said, exhaling smoke into her face. “You’d cease to exist.”
She closed her eyes turning away. “Ugh, That’s awful Kint.” She huffed, punching him in the shoulder. “Truly a terrible joke... I love it.”
Kint smiled. The two sat for a few moments, enjoying the morning sun. The dewdrops sparkled in the hazy light, giving the moment a magical feel. Kint could almost forget about the exhaustion that weighed heavy on his eyes. But the moment ended.
Elsha took a quick breath, “Kint… you know I don’t mind but…” She met his eyes.. “... are you going to help me with the 5th one of these days?” She asked.
“They only happen once every couple of months.” He looked away, letting his pipe hand fall to his knee.
She nodded, “They don’t happen often, but they do happen, Kint… And I worry…” She looked at him again, concerned
“You worry?” He questioned. Grinding his teeth.
She did away with the concern, taking his point. She continued in a more conversational tone, “Well, Maybe I don’t worry that much. But I do like what we have going here... It works.” She took another quick puff. “But these things do happen, and someone’s going to notice. I just don’t want your reputation to take that hit when they do.”
“You are worried about my reputation?” he asked, irritated.
She sighed. “Look, I’m not worried. I really don’t care. But someone will find out, and people will talk… They're already talking." She admitted. "And if they talk about you, that brings attention down on me. Attention I don’t want.”
Of course, this was about her...
“Unwanted attention…” Kint growled. “That’s a first.”
“Now you’re just being difficult” She huffed, frustrated. “Why are you making this so hard? Sin is going to happen. Rot is going to happen. It’s inevitable.” She took in a breath. “And by the Prophet’s will, it is our job to contain it, so it does not spread. To cleanse it. God's help me… I sound like a true believer.” She sighed, “We can slack off anywhere else, Kint. But not in this… for this thing… I need you to at least come inside, so it doesn’t look odd. You just have t–”
“Enough.” Kint cut in. “Enough.”
Elsha paused, leaning back, waiting for him to continue.
Kint was silent, staring down at the grass.
“Next time there’s a… cleansing.” He choked out. “I will try… to join you.”
Elsha sighed, rolling tension from her shoulders. Looking out over the dew sodden grass, she took another drag from the golden pipette.
“Thank you.” She chirped, back to her less serious tone.
Kint moved the pipe to his lips, realizing too late that the tobacco he’d packed had gone out.
“Here.” Elsha said, reaching over. She put a finger over the bowl, lighting it easily.
Kint’s eye twitched at the sight of the flame. Images of what those flames had done this morning blanketed his mind. He pushed them away. Not wanting to give his partner the satisfaction of seeing his pain. He took a long pull from the pipe, dragging that tainted fire down through the leaf and into his lungs.
They sat there for a while. Each slightly uncomfortable. They rarely had hard conversations like this. Both so used to avoiding trouble.
They were interrupted by the clacking of stiff boots down the street behind them.
The breathless courier stepped through the arched entryway behind them. He ran up the walkway, moving to face them. He held out a small red brass tube with a brass cap. The cap was emblazoned with the Vorvan House Sigil, an Eagle head underlined by a quill pen.
“Apologies Inspectors…” The old man stammered, head bowed. “A message for you.”
Elsha snatched the tube from Courier's hands. She put her thumb and pointer finger on the two crystals laid into the cap. There was a hissing sound and then a snap as the inner latch popped open. Elsha let go of the cap. It swung back revealing the message inside.
“Murder.” She muttered.
The courier flinched.
“And they’re giving it to us?” Kint questioned. “What about the twins?”
“They’re getting married tomorrow.” She answered.
“Both of ‘em?”
She nodded.
“How ‘bout Rent and Davul? They love these things.” Kint proposed.
“They’ve already got three.”
The Old Man flinched again.
“I think they’re all out of options Kint… I mean… They must be, right?”
“It’s been a rough few months.” Kint grunted. “No arguing with the Mayor, though.”
“I don’t know about that.” She quipped, handing the tube back to the courier. She burned the message in her other hand. “Let’s get moving, shall we?” She moved to exit the park. “I think this could be fun.”
Kint glanced at the Courier. He was horrified.
“Prophet protect us.” The man whispered.
“It could be worse, friend.” Kint nodded over his shoulder to where Elsha was waiting impatiently. “She was considering taking you out earlier.” The man’s eyes widened in horror. Kint put on a rusty grin. Maybe the Courier hadn’t understood the joke.
“God’s Kint. Leave the man alone.” Elsha scolded, pulling him away.
They exited the park. Elsha letting go when they made it to the cobbled streets outside.
“I guess he wasn’t much for jokes.” Kint mused.
Elsha snorted. An unusual noise from her lips.
“Under the eyes of the God’s Kint, If your wit was any drier… I think you’d burst into flames.”