“Bro, it’s been awhile.”

When I entered the shop, I saw Myh grinning at me.

“I haven’t seen in you awhile,” I said back at him.

He scratched the back of his head, “I’ve been busy due to work.”

“Oh yeah, you got a real job now. With a salary. Is it true you’re a shoe polisher for some noble?”

“I see word goes quickly around here.”

I laughed, “So it’s true.” I put forward my boot. “You might as well show me your mad polishing skills.”

“Screw off!” he shoved me away from him. “But I just got promoted though. That’s why I’m here actually.”

“So what are you doing now?”

“I’m a junior butler and I’ve come to ask a favour.” He smiled nervously.

A favour?

“I’m listening,” I said to him, curious.

“It’s nothing too big or anything. I just need a poem from you.”

“A poem?”

“It’s for the master I’m hired to. He has this noble lady that he’s pursuing and needs to impress her.”

“There are plenty of poets in this city. You don’t need me.”

“He’s really picky and has rejected all poems he has commissioned.”

“If he’s so picky, what makes you think I could get accepted?”

“One; you’re the best person I know of. Two: you’re going to do the commission free of charge.”

“Are you asking me to do something for free?”

“That’s why it is a favour!”

I don’t have time to be writing poems, especially if I won’t be receiving income from it.

“I think you got the wrong guy, Myh.”

He went down on his knees, “Please, Ruihyn. You’re the only one I can count on. We’re friends right?”

“Yes, but still. I got rent to pay.”

Especially with the landlady flirting with the idea of raising rent.

“Fine. What do you want from me? I’ll give you anything.”

“Money.”

“Except that.”

“How convenient.”

“Please,” he pleaded even more desperately.

I gritted my teeth. “You’re persistent. Fine but you owe me lunch for this.”

“So long as it’s from a food stall and not a restaurant.”

“I don’t think you’re in a position to tell me what to do.”

“Sorry.”

He turned his gaze to the floor.

I patted his head, “There, there.”

Myh was a faun. He had two horns of a goats and messy blond hair that is rather soft on the hands.

“Hey, don’t touch my horns!” he shouted at me, stepping away from me.

“I see the length of your horns have grown,” I responded to him.

“You noticed? Well I thought they’ve stopped growing but… Wait! Ruihyn, I see what you’re doing.”

“I’m your senior, Myh. I can pat your head if I wish.”

“You’re only older than me by four months!”

Myh was the baby in my group of three friends. Rose is the eldest, then comes me and lastly Myh.

I had better get back to this poem request for Myh instead of arguing with him about social etiquette.

“Myh, when do you need this poem?”

“How about… today?”

“What?!”

“You’re my best friend remember,” he grinned uneasily.

I asked the clerk whether there was a mission available.

“In fact yes, a B-rank mission. Payment is 150 crowns,” the clerk responded to me.

I stared at Myh.

“I hope the lunch from this food stall is worth 150 crowns.”

“I’ll eat dirt if you want me. Just please help me up here,” Myh said to me

“Seriously?”

“Yes! That’s how desperate I am here.”

“Fine, I wouldn’t want to you dying from eating dirt. Heavens knows what Rose will do to me,” I sighed

We walked out of the shop and went to the more affluent districts where noble humans where living in.

A guard stopped us to check whether we had a pass.

“Here it is.” Myh handed the paper to the guard to check.

After casting a spell to check the authenticity of this document, the guard let us in.

The villas around here were large and but didn’t have colourful paint like the ones in the merchant district. In fact, the villas here were mostly made out of marble. I wonder why the nobles seem to be reluctant to flaunt off their wealth like the rich merchants and adventurers in the city.

When we reached our destination, the large villa in front of us was unsurprisingly gated. Four guards surrounded the entrance gate. They were [Battle Mages], a class trained in the Imperial Capital. Nobles, unlike rich commoners, don’t hire adventurers.

Battle Mages wore blue robes with golden stripes on their garments.

We were taken to the back entrance of the villa, away from the sensitive eyes of the noble family of this place who were apparently entertaining guests.

The servants were mostly human, very few beastkin worked here.

“So, only speak when he speaks to you and don’t get angry. He does have a dismissive personality,” Myh recommended to me.

“So he’s like any other spoilt noble kid.”

Myh chuckled, “Basically.”

I followed behind Myh as we walked down the hallway of this villa. I don’t even know how many room we’ve passed. When are we going to get there?

Finally, Myh came to a stop. He knocked on the door in front of him but got no answer. Then he knocked again.

“Come in!” the voice inside the room shouted.

Myh opened the door and let me in first before following behind me.

“Master Dillen, I’ve brought a poet that I’m confident you’ll find suitable.”

“Excellent,” Dillen smiled.

“Morning, Master Dillen,” I greeted him and gave a respective bow.

Dillen didn’t respond to me and looked at Myh, “You never told me that he is an elf.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Was that a problem?” Myh asked confused.

“Our empire is sworn enemies to these tree hugging knife ears. “

“Oh!” Myh exclaimed.

Knife ears?! Through sheer will alone, I chuckled while avoiding eye contact. Dismissive personality? That’s sugar coating it alright.

“Please remove this elf from my sight. I need to polish my telescope’s mirror and don’t need him around,” Dillen commanded of Myh.

I bowed once again before Dillen, “I apologise Master Dillen for not meeting your expectations.”

Dillen scoffed and simply went over to that telescope of his instead of replying to me.

I was expecting Myh to escort me out of here but he was glaring at Dillen.

“Master Dillen, I don’t understand why it matters that he is an elf.”

Dillen sighed, “Dear Myh, the rivalry between humans and elves goes way back. I’m a loyal subject of the empire and I refuse to work with an elf.”

“I-I don’t understand.”

“Myh! I need not explain myself to you. I’m your master, you will do as I please. Now take this elf away from here.”

Myh went silent but refused to budge. I could see Dillen reach for a cane.

I grabbed Myh’s arm, “It’s fine. Let’s leave. Now apologise to your master so I can get out of here. Dillen is insufferable.”

Myh nodded, though very reluctantly.

“Forgive me, Master Dillen, for questioning your will.”

Dillen lowered the cane he had just picked up, “You’re forgiven, Myh. Just don’t make the same mistake again.”

Myh bowed. I bowed again. Good riddance, this is what happens when you extend an olive branch to humans.

Myh and I turned around and suddenly the door opened abruptly.

I recognised this human. But I can’t tell where I know her from.

“Dillen, I need your help. High Magistrate Bea-” she looked at me as though unsure what to make of me. “Do I know you?”

I looked at Myh.

He looked at me, “I think she’s talking to you, buddy.”

I returned my gaze to hers. “I don’t think so.”

Her eyes landed on my pointy ears. “You’re that elf!”

Oh, now I know her. She’s Holly, I believe. She was the friend of that human woman. What in the world was she doing here?

Dillen shoved me aside as he ran up to Holly.

“Has she returned? I don’t understand what has gotten into her.”

“She’s like that,” Holly sighed but kept her eyes fixed on me.

“So she has returned?” Dillen pressed Holly.

Holly nodded.

“We’re leaving, Myh,” I whispered to my friend next to me.

“Oh yeah! Please excuse us Master Dillen and Dame Holly.”

They didn’t stop us as we exited the room and walked out of the villa.

But Myh was suspiciously quiet as we walked back to the slums.

“What’s wrong?” I asked him.

“Nothing,” he responded in a low tone.

“Myh, I’m fine. Dillen’s insults slid off my back.”

“But still, I feel horrible for what he did. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologising for his rudeness?”

He sighed, “Sorry, I don’t know.”

I knew where this was going. I could already see Myh’s eyes water.

I scouted for anything to cheer him up. There was a food stall nearby and judging by the smell, I knew it was serving Myh’s favourite snack.

“Let’s get something to eat,” I said to him as I walked to the food stall.

The lady smiled at me and I ordered spicy giant grasshoppers. They are served in a cup made out of leaves and the grasshoppers are served warm.

“Shouldn’t I be the one buying?” Myh asked as the cook gave us a cup each.

“I’m spoiling you, since you’re my junior.”

“You’re petty over this age thing,” he chuckled.

We continued eating our respective grasshoppers. Myh’s eyes dried up and he was smiling more.

“I really hope this marriage goes through,” he broke the silence after a while.

“What’s so important about this marriage anyway? Aren’t marriages around here rare?” I asked him.

In fact, I only know a handful of married couples in this city. Even the empress of this realm isn’t married. I believe she has concubines instead.

“Yes, but Master Dillen is the last member of his branch of the family. His mother has fallen ill and physicians believe that she is not long for this world, so no heirs.”

Now I understood the problem that was being faced by this family. Dillen is male and that is a problem. Property, under the empire’s laws, is passed from mother to daughter or a close female relative.

“So is this marriage meant to have Dillen keep his mother’s wealth?” I asked Myh.

“Kind of. The marriage is meant to keep Dillen’s aunt, who is part of a distant branch of the family, from owning the mines. By having Dillen marry, the aunt doesn’t get the mines.”

“I don’t get the problem though. Who wouldn’t want to marry Dillen when he’s sitting on literal gold?”

Myh nodded, “Everyone wants to marry him. But the moment he gets married, his wife by law would take over the mines.”

“I take it that Dillen’s mother doesn’t want to have a stranger get their hands on the mines.”

“Exactly, and that’s why Lady Beatrice is an excellent choice for Dillen’s family. Beatrice is a close friend of Dillen’s mother. She’s also a well respected jurist from an old aristocratic family. A perfect match.”

I chuckled, accidentally spitting out part of a grasshopper’s leg. “You seem to gloss over the age difference between Dillen and Beatrice.”

“It’s a political marriage, Ruihyn. Even though Beatrice is twice the age of Dillen, who cares?”

Well Dillen is around my age and thus making Beatrice to be in her early 40s or something. If I was in his position, I don’t know what I would. I guess this is the life of noble people

“But there’s a but, right?” I asked. If everything was going according to plan then Dillen wouldn’t need a poem to write Beatrice.

“Beatrice is backing away,” groaned Myh.

“Why?”

“She got a higher government post in the imperial province to be a judge.”

“That’s it?!”

“Marrying is rare for a reason, Ruihyn. Beatrice is only contemplating about doing it as a favour to her friend, Dillen’s mother.”

“The money isn’t enough?”

“Nope. It doesn’t help that Beatrice’s personality doesn’t go well with Dillen’s”

“What happens to you if the marriage doesn’t go through?” I asked Myh.

“Dillen will be taken to his aunt’s home and my services will no longer be needed.”

Myh worked hard to get this job. He turned his back on the criminal business and decided to get an honest paying occupation. If he loses this job, he might end up back in the streets and forced to go back to crime, even if he hates doing so.

“I’ll try writing a poem for Dillen then.”

“What!” Myh exclaimed, “Even after what he said to you?”

“I’m not doing this for him. It’s for you.”

“Really?” he smiled.

“Of course. I’m your senior after all.”

“You’re not letting this age thing go, aren’t you?”

“I’m teasing you, buddy.”

Myh and I separated just before we entered the slums, he still had work to do. But I did get a few bits of information about Beatrice in order to write the poem.

I hurried back to my apartment room.

Darn it, this place looks very depressing with the cracked walls and stuff. I probably should clean up around here.

No!

My mind is trying to do all it can to stop me from writing this poem. I need to focus. I checked under my bed if there was still a roll of papyrus lying around.

Found it. Though it looked a bit crumbled, it would have to do. I mostly buy my roll of papyrus from the library, it is affordable thanks to it being subsidised.

This is a new experience for me. I usually write songs or poems for myself and rarely for anyone else.

Anyway, back to writing this poem. The form I’m thinking that would suit Beatrice would be a 13 line sonnet, but there’s one problem: I don’t have enough time before the deadline to figure out how to write a poem while keeping in line with the rules set by a sonnet.

Therefore, I need something that is less demanding and probably short to read.

Let me try and write a three line short poem.

Now what did Myh tell me about Beatrice? She’s a high magistrate, comes from a powerful noble house, she’s a halfling and loves gambling.

That isn’t much for me to go on.

I can’t do this. I mean, will it be that bad if Myh lost his job? I’m sure he’ll get another.

I sighed. I had to write something and yet no ideas came to mind.

If I was Dillen, what would I write?

Blank.

Let me put this in another way, if I was the one trying to win over Beatrice, what would I write?

Nothing.

I can’t write a poem about people or people I don’t care for.

Poetry comes from the heart. At least that was what my mother used to say.

I slumped back on my bed. What if instead of a poem, I wrote a plea letter? She is a magistrate after all.

A plea for Beatrice’s hand?

No, a romantic formal court complaint to convince Beatrice to accept the marriage. In a way, I’m not writing a poem but more of an argument for her to take Dillen’s hand. I’ll probably have to write it in a lyrical way instead of the dry court writings.

It’s crazy, that I agree with. But is it crazy enough to actually work?

I immediately got from bed and rushed to the courthouse. First I need to know how to write up a formal complaint. In order to break rules, you need to first know them.

The courthouse is situated in the eastern most district of the city. Here live mostly fairies and a few humans. The district is filled with commoners.

I’m always surprised to find that rare human begging for money. Or that opium addict fairy. These people have problems. But looking at their wooden houses, it’s a nice-ish life they have here.

Unfortunately, there was a long queue in the courthouse. I checked my pockets. I had thirty crowns on me. I checked my pocket watch. I have a couple of hours before the deadline Myh gave me.

So I’d rather pay a higher fee for a legal advice from a court clerk.

I walked away from this queue and walked around to find a secretary of the court. There was someone in the front counter and I asked for a premium court clerk.

“Do you have the required fee?” the secretary asked me.

I gave the required 25 crown coins.

The things we do for friendship.

And off I was sent to a court clerk. I can’t believe I’m doing this but let’s see what happens here.

An assistant of Umen, a [Court Clerk], took me to his office where I waited for about five minutes before his arrival.

Umen was human, no surprise there. He took a seat on the other side of his desk.

He looked at me. Then his eyes glanced at my ears.

“Hello there,” he greeted me, in Elvish.

Okay, I wasn’t expecting a human to know my mother tongue. It’s been awhile since I actually spoke it.

“Afternoon,” I responded in Ornic, the regional dialect of this province.

“So what have you come here for?” he replied to me in Elvish.

He can’t be serious. Why is he still speaking to me in Elvish?

“Nu’o tar shi Elviaa,” I said to him in Elvish, which basically translates to ‘You don’t have to speak to me in Elvish’.

“Oh! Sorry for making you uncomfortable,” he spoke in Ornic.

“It’s fine,” I smiled, trying to diffuse the tension. “Anyway, I wish to know how to write a formal complaint to the court.”

“That’s why I’m here. I can write the complaint for you and send it to the party you have a problem with. We do try to settle disputes without having a magistrate get involved. It saves time for everyone involved.”

“I don’t actually have a complaint. I just need to know how to write a formal complaint.”

“So you want to become a [Court Clerk] or an [Orator]?” he asked.

“No. It’s really a long story and I don’t have time.”

“The elves do say that the seagull who doesn’t wait for the fish to swim near the surface, doesn’t feed.”

That’s nice. I’m surprised I managed not to roll my eyes at him. Maybe this idea of mine isn’t good. I better stick to a poem.

“I made you uncomfortable again, didn’t I?” he grinned uneasily.

“Kind of.”

“Sorry. I’ve been learning about elvish culture and language and I was very excited meeting an elf in person. Getting back to your request of writing a formal complaint, you’ll first need to know how to write in Murvini.”

“Murvini?”

“Yep, Murvini, the imperial dialect spoken in the capital.”

Not great. But I’m sure Murvini shouldn’t be radically different from Ornic. While it took me a couple of years to fully grasp Ornic, I think it should be easy getting a hang of Murvini. After all, I have encountered people from neighbouring provinces who speak a different dialect than Ornic and I still understand what their mostly saying.

“How big of a different is Ornic from Murvini?” I asked him.

He opened a book for me, “As you can see, Murvini is written in a script different from the regular script used by the other dialects of the empire.”

Great, an entirely different writing script.

I glanced at the opened book in front of me.

That’s odd.

I can read the opening passage of the book in front of me even though it’s in Murvini and has a totally different script.