Friday, 13th July, 1923

The air hung heavy with the thickness of condensation left from a day of rain, leaving a feeling of stickiness that laid over the pale-skin of a vulpine woman trying to ignore the feeling by wiping down whiskey glasses. To her dismay, sweat continued to form, dripping down past her brow and entering her eyes. They were already red with her scarlet pupils, but now the sweat was making them even redder. She raised her left arm, a mechanical metal limb, swatting away at the beads of liquid pouring down her face, then pushing away stray strands of her white hair away from her eyes.

‘BUGBEAR! Please tell me the fans are fixed.’ Her high-pitch voice with a southern slang resounded off of the metal and wood walls of her bar.

‘Trust me, I’m working as fast as I can, Fang.’ A deep voice growled from atop a stepladder extending toward the ceiling fan. The man atop it, a tall black-furred leonun man with a silver mane had his hands picking apart and rearranging wiring.

‘It’s hot as shit, Bug, and we’re gonna be open soon.’

‘I’d really rather not have someone shouting at me while I’m doing my best just trying not to fall off!’

Just then, a phone began to ring from the bar. Fang, the albino vulpine, grumbled as she turned around to pick it up.

‘Samsara. This is the manager speaking.’

‘Fang.’ A voice of a man ominously called out from the other side of the line.

‘Oh fu-’ she muttered under her breath.

‘I wanted to discuss that job I tipped you off on. I do recall telling you something about-’

‘Expecting results, yes.’ She interrupted.

‘Not just that. I wanted a clean job, and yet, I just so happened to notice a little something on the papers this morning.’

‘Look, I get that you’re disappointed-’

‘Very disappointed.’

‘Then why the hell did you recommend those mooks in the first place!?’

‘Fang...’ His voice trailed, expecting her to remain calm.

‘I could have gotten my usual guys, and have this one done before the Goddamn event even started. But no~!’

‘Fang.’

‘You just had to make me pick out a couple of no-good brainless evolutionary dead-ends for a simple gig that my usual crew could have done in their sleep!’

‘Fang!’ The leonun man, now climbing down the stepladder, shouted at her.

‘WHAT!?’

‘Customer.’

‘We’re not open ye-’

‘I can see that your temper never left.’ Said a blond human man as he walked in the bar.

Fang stood frozen still, her mind racing between choosing which of the three conversations she needed to continue. The human man, who she knew was Ken Larsen, pointed a finger over to the landline in her hand, breaking her out of her trance. She lifted the phone up to her ear and calmly continued the conversation facing away from Ken and covering her mouth all the while.

Ken, on the other hand, greeted the leonun with a handshake that clapped against his hand, prompting him to return the gesture. Ken then spoke. ‘S’up, Bear. She been treating you well?’

Berrian, the real name of the leonun, tilted his head in response. ‘You know her. Worse yet is that she’s lost a lot of money on something recently.’

‘That so?’

‘Yep.’

‘You mind if I?’ He asked, pointing over to a table with a stool stacked upside down upon it.

‘Sure.’ Berrian said, flipping and placing the stool on the ground, allowing Ken to sit by the table.

‘Man, it’s hot as hell in here. Could you turn on the fan?’ Ken said, exaggerating by wiping the back of his hand against his forehead.

‘I would if it wasn’t broke.’

‘You mind if I take a look?’

‘Be my guest.’

Ken climbed up the stepladder with Berrian holding down the bottom, allowing him an easier time standing still at the top. He went to work deftly rearranging the wires while talking. ‘I have to give credit to my niece. If it weren’t for her showing me, I’d have no idea how to fix anything.’

Berrian’s voice resounded from below. ‘Does that mean you can fix it?’

‘Yeah. There’s a bit of the wiring that’s been burnt, but I’ll give it a temporary fix by cutting the burnt bit and then tying the ends together. My niece called it a “bypass”.’

‘Sounds like I gotta hire this niece of yours.’

‘You really should. She could use the extra pocket-money.’

After stepping off of the ladder, Ken wiped his hands on a cloth Berrian offered him. He thanked him as he sat back at his table, and Berrian flipped a switch, marveling as the fan began to spin. ‘Well, would you look at that.’

‘I’d recommend getting someone to look at that though. I doubt my work will last for very long.’

Berrian dragged a stool across from Ken and sat on it. ‘Are you sure you aren’t just being a salesman again?’

‘Hey!’ Ken exclaimed, ‘I’ll have you know that whatever services I hawk at you are completely legit.’

‘So that’s a yes.’ Berrian smirked.

‘So what if I am. I gotta support family no matter what.’

‘You got that right.’

Just then, Fang huffily marched toward them with her teeth bared and fox-ears pulled back, firmly slamming her hands on the table on her arrival. ‘Just what the hell do you want, Ken?’

Berrian looked at Fang, then at Ken, and rose from his chair to walk away. ‘I’ll just be somewhere else.’

‘Take a seat, Chao.’ Ken requested.

‘It’s Fang.’

‘Was this a recent change or-’

‘Have you come to brag? Is that it?’

‘I have no clue what you’re on about-’

‘The airship! Your name ended up on the papers, and now you’ve probably made some kind of connection linking this to me.’

‘Actually, I linked it to Berrian.’

‘What do you want?’

Ken leaned back on his stool, allowing it to tip ever-so-slightly on two legs. ‘Well, I’d like a beer with an old friend.’

Fang’s expression matched the furiosity of her red eyes as she grumbled countless curses as she walked over to the bar, pouring a pint for the both of them. ‘If you expect this for free, I’m spitting in your glass.’

‘Actually…’

‘What?’ She questioned as she returned with both of their mugs.

He bore a half-smile as he pointed up to the ceiling. ‘I didn’t get paid for the fan repair.’

She sat angrily, the bar-stool dragging against the floor from the force. ‘You get one pint spit-free.’

The two took swigs at their mugs of frothy golden beer, the burning bitterness being savoured, and all the while, Ken took notice as Fang’s furrowed brow loosened along with the rest of her scowling face. She planted her glass on the table after she cleared more than half of her drink. Ken raised an eyebrow at her. ‘You thirsty?’

‘Shut up. I didn’t wanna see your face today.’

‘But that’s everyday.’

‘Exactly.’ She stated, wiping the froth from her lips. ‘Now would you tell me why you’re here.’

‘Well, I’m not here to make an arrest if you can believe it.’

‘You got nothing but hearsay to link it to us.’

‘Precisely. You got nothing to worry about on that front.’

‘So are you leaving?’

Ken chuckled. ‘Y’know, I recall from the last time we were together, you were begging me to stay.’

‘Is that what this is about? You came all the way to talk about us?’ She said and began to laugh. ‘I think I’m just gonna tell you to piss right off.’

‘Alright, I’m sorry. That came out of nowhere.’ Ken apologised. ‘Look, I didn’t wanna come here in the first place, so I’ll keep it brief-’

‘Should’ve done that from the start.’

‘I just wanna know who tipped you off. I’ll even cut you some of the money I’m getting from looking into this.’

Fang crossed her arms and tried to keep a straight face, entirely failing at the attempt as her face maintained a frown. She looked at her feet, refusing to look Ken in his eyes.

‘Fang.’ Ken attempted to catch her attention, but failing to make her look his way. ‘There’s money in this, Fang.’

‘I heard.’

‘Then could I have a name? That’s all you’ll have to say.’

‘I don’t know.’

Ken stared at the vulpine and sighed. ‘I knew this was a mistake.’ Ken whispered, and Fang’s ear twitched.

He rose from his seat and was fixing his coat to get ready to leave, but before he could make a step to the door, Fang spoke. ‘I don’t have a name, but I have another gig.’

He stopped dead in his tracks, and allowed himself to release a breath he was holding. ‘Gig?’

‘Yep. I got a gig from the guy. Wants me to keep tabs on some schmuck from the “Yarrows”.’

‘Huh…’ Ken pondered aloud. ‘Isn’t that-’

‘The gang that robbed the Grand Library some time back, yes.’

‘So do they want you to steal what they stole?’

‘There’s a bonus if we do that.’

Ken paused.

‘Wait, we?’

‘That’s what you’re gonna offer right? Want in on this job so that we can bust them once we hand over the stuff?’

He scratched his cheek as he thought about it. ‘Well, that’s assuming they don’t use a proxy to pick it up.’

‘But then we can tail the proxy. Find who they work for that way.’

‘Who else will you hire for the job?’

‘No one.’

‘No one?’

‘I mean,’ she took one more swig from her mug, finishing her beer, ‘I’m flat broke after spending money on that last gig that completely failed.’

‘So we’re alone.’

‘Berrian’s there too.’

‘I got clinic duty.’ Berrian’s voice rang out from another part of the bar. ‘Don’t rope me in.’

‘Boooo. You suck, Bug.’

‘Then that leaves two of us.’ Ken said, placing a hand on his hip, reaching out the other toward Fang. ‘Like old times?’

‘Up yours, you blond mole rat.’ She swore, reaching out to shake his outstretched hand.

‘Good to be working with you.’

___

‘Are you sure I can’t come?’ Sandra wistfully asked.

‘Yes, kiddo. I’m not gonna put you in danger just ‘cause you insist.’ Ken answered, adjusting the collar of his long-coat.

Ken looked at the interior of their house, an oldly thin two-story abode with a staircase that took up more than one-third of the place past the more spacious living room. This made an awkward squeeze when walking to the kitchen.

Their only bathroom was a former broom closet beneath the stairs that’s been remodelled to have a toilet and a shower. Upstairs was their rooms, with Ken’s room above the kitchen, and Sandra’s room separated by a small hallway that the stairs lead to.

Needless to say, the house in which they lived was cumbersome in its small size, and the density of their everyday objects was scattered about, pictures of friends and family framed on the walls, science and engineering trophies on shelves that collected dust around the hard-to-reach corners. A radio sat atop a small cupboard across from a coffee table in the middle of the living room, which in turn sat in front of a couch where Sandra was now idly laying upon.

Sandra noticed the lowest cupboard under the radio and saw that it was open. Within it was a small ornate wooden box with its lid removed and a cushion with a felt lining placed at the bottom that had the imprint of a revolver. ‘You forgot to close the cupboard.’

‘My bad.’ Ken apologised.

‘I’ll get it.’ Sandra said as she rose from the couch and walked to the cupboard. After placing the box in its original state with its lid on top, she closed the cupboard doors and turned to face Ken. ‘Are you going after the guys from the airship thing?’

‘We already got the guys directly responsible-’

‘Except for one.’ Sandra corrected.

‘Right, except for one.’

‘Is he next?’

‘No, he’ll get caught sooner or later, I’m sure.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘A kid like him?’ Ken reasoned, ‘he ain’t got no clue how to be a criminal. Probably just got swept up in the motions when the others offered him a “quick and easy” job.’

Sandra pinched the bottom of her chin and thought aloud. ‘So you’re going after the guys who planned it?’

‘Yep.’ He confirmed, ‘but that’s enough about what I’m doing. What are you doing?’

She stretched her legs out and sat on the floor. ‘Well, I’m going out to meet with Riley for lunch. And then we’re gonna go to the Grand Library so I can return some books.’

Ken chuckled, ‘you mean the overdue ones?’

Flustered, she responded. ‘W-well, they aren’t that overdue.’

‘Okay, well how about this. We can go over to your room and collect every book you need to return today so you don’t forget to bring them. Then, we can leave together.’

‘Fiiine…’

‘And while we’re at it, I got a favour to ask of you.’

‘Hmm?’

‘Could you ask Agatha a couple of questions?’

‘The Lorekeeper?’

___

Soon enough, the two left their household, Ken leaving off in a different direction from Sandra. Ken waved her goodbye and yelled. ‘Don’t forget to tell Agatha I said hi.’

‘I won’t!’

Sandra carried her knapsack of overdue books as she began to walk to the open street where the trams were located. The day was bright in contrast to yesterday, and the heat of the summer sun hit Sandra as she rushed to catch a moving tram, hopping onto the platform staircase and grabbing unto the railing, allowing her to squeeze in with a collage of other strangers making their everyday commute.

Even in summer break, Sandra thought, people are still so busy. Sandra herself had to keep together some of her own vacation days from her apprenticeship so she could celebrate her birthday with Ken, and she’s now spending the last two days before having to return to her work.

At least Riley could enjoy her summer break unbothered by work like she was. After all, while Riley wasn’t rich, her family was well off, allowing her a level of freedom that teenagers in Sandra’s economic class usually don’t have.

Regardless, Sandra didn’t really mind working, in fact, she loved her apprenticeship well enough to work overnight at times. But as her thoughts trailed off to daydreams on the next car she would work on, the voice of the tram conductor boomed out ‘Arriving at the Grand Library.’

She stepped off of the tram, knapsack in hand, and walked toward the steps of the Grand Library of Yggdra, a massive place carved into the southern base of the last “World Tree”. The marble steps lead toward an entrance with two massive red-brown doors leading into a many-floored interior made of lavish wood with many different fae creatures like glowing pixies and short goblins roaming with books in hand, moving about and placing them upon lines and lines of shelves all with books stacked in a particular order in different sections.

Sandra jogged up the stairs through the great doors and walked her way to a counter to the right where a neatly dressed leonun woman with a long braided ponytail and silver-white fur with black spots was ordering a couple of pixies on where a particular stack of books were supposed to go. Sandra walked up, placing her knapsack on the counter, the sound of it thumping notifying the leonun on Sandra’s presence.

‘Sandra! And… Are those my books I see?’

‘Yes, Agatha. I’m sorry I keep on forgetting about it.’

Agatha leaned against the counter-top closer to Sandra and adjusted the glasses pinned to the bridge of her snout. ‘My oh my. I didn’t expect to see these today.’ She said, watching Sandra placing each book on a stack. ‘Let me guess, your uncle finally gave in and made you carry these?’

‘Aha…’ Sandra laughed awkwardly, ‘I… Yeah…’

‘And you do remember about the late fees?’

‘Uuuhmmm…’

Agatha laughed as she began to record each tome on a logbook she pulled from under the desk. ‘If it weren’t for me owing your uncle some favours, I’d have charged you ten-times over by now, not to mention all of the other times I’ve caught you late.’

‘I’ll be sure to thank him for it.’

‘But you sure are burning through his favours, Sandra.’

‘Yeah…’

‘Still.’ Agatha mused, ‘I’m shocked that the dream hexes that the fae place on these books are entirely ineffective on you.’

‘Dream hexes?’

‘Yes. The books have a tracking rune as well, and people that sleep around an overdue book from this library get nightmares and the only way to end it for good is to return the book where I~’ She lingered on her words as she pulled out a special red stamp, beginning to mark the first pages of every book Sandra returned, ‘-dispel it with this.’

Sandra scratched the back of her head fully unable to recall a single time she had a bad dream around the book, or any other dream for that matter. ‘I kinda don’t recall any nightmares.’

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

‘Honestly,’ she said continuing to stamp the books, ‘my theory is that you still have the nightmares, but you’re so forgetful that the whole thing entirely leaves your mind when you wake up.’

She stamped the last book and closed the cover, continuing her speech. ‘Speaking of which, aren’t you usually here with a friend?’

Sandra’s face dropped as Agatha’s word sent a shiver down her spine. ‘Oh shoot, I was supposed to meet with Riley for lunch first!’ She exclaimed and ran off.

However, as she ran out, she stopped and slowly returned to Agatha. ‘I also forgot. Ken wanted me to ask you a couple of questions.’

‘Do you have them written down?’

‘I do.’

‘Go meet your friend and I’ll remind you about it when you return.’

Sandra began to bolt through the doors, managing to squeeze out a couple of words out before she left, ‘thanks, Agatha, you’re the best!’

‘Let’s hope your friend remembers to return.’

___

Over on the south western end of Yggdra was the Haita district, a place known to carry the largest population of members for a religion known as “Lucendism”. As far as Ken could recall, the religion started almost two thousand years ago when they believed that the moon covered the sun and never left, leaving the world sunless for months and creating famine, mass starvation, and allowed all sorts of monsters from the underground to emerge and cause untold amounts of death to the lands above. That was until a deity descended from the moon known as Sofia, who provided light in place of the eclipsed sun, scaring the beasts of the dark back underground and bringing life back to the blighted lands. She then left back to the moon and shifted it out of the way of the sun. Or so the story goes.

In reality, the history recorded of the time mentioned that while the prolonged eclipse was true, it didn’t last months and no evidence of such a goddess was left behind, just a mere astronomical event. Regardless, the “Faith of the Last Light” was created, another name for what people call “Lucendism” in this age.

Ken wasn’t much of a believer in such a thing as a “god” despite living in a world of magic. As such, Ken never set foot in a single church or temple in his life, and he largely avoided the Haita district until a case or an event called for him there. The idea of being approached by eager Lucendists inviting him or any of his friends or family to their church didn’t sit well with him.

He stepped off of a tram in front of a church within the district, one of many. He made his way through streets and buildings built with gothic architecture, the structures made to allow light through colourful stained glass windows along with pointed spires that raise up to the air, reaching up to the heavens above. Walking past a group of women dressed in full black garbs with headdresses carrying candles to a shrine with a statue of the goddess, he carried on past this small chunk of the district. They called the place “Little Ciselya”, named after the theocratic nation-state of the same name, the home and origin of Lucendism.

Exiting the mini-district, he turned left past a small fruit store and walked down a long set of steps between two buildings where he saw Fang puffing away at a cigarette at the very bottom. Approaching her, he spoke. ‘You happen to find God on your way here?’

Fang turned to face him, her face covered in smoke as she talked back. ‘I’d rather find her in the barrel of a gun.’

Ken stood by her, patiently waiting as she finished her cigarette, which she then tossed beneath her, stomping it out with the tip of her high-heels. She lingered just a little longer, looking out past the alleyway with stairs that they were in while remaining in the shade, and after readying herself, placing a hat atop her head that kept sunlight from streaming unto the pale skin of her face. ‘It’s days like these that I absolutely hate being an albino.’

‘You want to borrow my coat?’ Ken asked, looking at the vulpine wearing a long elbow-length lace glove covering her left arm and dressed in a white dress-shirt that was unbuttoned at the top as to ever-so-slightly reveal a little bit of her cleavage pushed up by her bra.

‘Don’t let your eyes wander, Ken.’

Ken faced away unbothered. ‘All I’m saying is that you need to take better care of your skin considering how fast it cooks under the sun.’

The two lingered quietly for a few more seconds before Ken broke the silence. ‘So, what are we doing?’

‘Across the street from here is a slot machine parlour. The person who owns it is a friend of mine, a nice old lady we call “Ginger Ale”.’

‘Okay?’

‘One of her frequent players is an elven woman, a tall and tanned red-head with scarring around her arms. Her name is “Kalem Vi-Shana”.’

‘“Great Justice.”’

‘I’m sorry?’ She asked, perplexed.

‘Kalem Vi-Shana is Alfrian for “Great Justice” or more accurately, “Greatly Just”.’

‘Why do I care?’ She looked at him utterly annoyed.

‘Do you know anything about this Kalem?’

‘Nope.’

‘Elves generally keep to more modern naming conventions since using their traditional names tend to attract attention.’

‘The wrong kind.’

‘Yep.’ Ken confirmed.

‘So she’s got a decent chance of being attached to her culture. Big deal.’

Ken shrugged. ‘Might not lead to anything, but knowing who we’re dealing with and what they believe in might prove useful. If she’s got really long hair, it means she’s very much still attached to her Alfrian roots.’

Fang scoffed. ‘I forget that you somehow were smart enough to become a detective.’

‘I forget you sang well enough to be a singer before-’

Ken turned his head to Fang who bore the expression of an animal ready to claw his face off. ‘Sorry.’

Fang sighed and turned back to the parlour now with a dour expression. Ken watched the place too, now brought to silence from their last exchange. They both stared the entrance down until a tall elven woman with a long braided red ponytail exited and made her way to the left of the street. Ken turned to Fang and asked, ‘that her?’

‘That’s her.’

And the two left the alleyway as they began to tail the woman from a distance.

It went smoothly at first. The two were able to maintain vision over the elf for a couple of minutes as she made her way through busy streets with crowds occasionally passing by, but with her tall stature, she stuck out. So it was that for a while, they simply watched her go about her day while Ken initiated a conversation with Fang.

‘So. Seeing as how we’ve got a while before we reach anywhere important, why don’t we catch up?’

‘Catch up? Sugar, don’t tell me you wanna hook up.’ She said with a mocking pout.

Ken winced. ‘That’s not anywhere near what I was talking about.’

‘Ken, I know you.’ She stated. ‘You got a smile like a million bucks and the only time you talk to a woman about something other than business is how you could slip them outta their clothes.’

‘Well first of all,’ Ken responded, ‘I’m honoured that you still think I’m attractive.’

‘Hah.’

‘Second of all, maybe I’d like to hear more about what you’ve been up to.’

Fang grumbled under her breath and faced Ken who bore a smirk that she couldn’t quite tell whether it was genuine or smug.

‘Fine. If it gets you off my back.’ She continued. ‘It’s been a real rosy five years. I returned from the war after losing my arm and watching everyone I cared about in the army die to Imperial gas attacks. I find out old-man Bison died and left me the bar, giving me an entirely new headache to deal with.’

She paused briefly as if to structure her story. ‘Then an old friend came in at the right time. We became lovers, and we sang, and danced, and drank our sorrows away, and he rocked my socks off ‘till we saw daylight many-a times.’

Ken stared down at the vulpine, knowing full well who she was talking about.

‘And then- and then- and then…’ She repeated before continuing. ‘He left.’

They walked side-by-side, yet distant all the same. Ken thought back to the night before and wondered why she even bothered having him stick around for this job. Was it just so she could voice out her half-decade-long anger toward him? For a moment, he thought about hurrying this whole situation and merely making an arrest on the elven woman, just so he could interrogate her and be done with it, be done with her.

Fang wasn’t done though. ‘But if you must know what happened after… I found someone.’

Ken stared at her slightly perplexed as to what to feel in the moment. He wasn’t jealous, in fact he fully expected her to have moved on from him when he visited her, but this revelation spurred an odd feeling regardless.

She spoke once more.

‘There was a girl. Black hair, blue eyes.’ She tilted her head at the memory of her image. ‘Great ass.’

‘Lucky you.’

‘Luck never stays long for me, you know that.’ She retorted bluntly. ‘We did the same things. We laughed, we danced, we made love. We argued a lot too.’

‘Don’t think it would’ve been a relationship with you otherwise.’

She glared and then resumed. ‘She stayed though. For the next three years, she stayed. She picked up all the broken pieces of me, kissing every single one like it was some magic glue and put me back together.’

‘And then?’ Ken asked in a gentle tone.

‘My luck caught up.’

Just then, the elven woman they were following approached a street that entered into a boulevard. She then walked into a small park within the boulevard where she proceeded to a concrete tunnel that lead down below ground. Ken and Fang ran up by the side of the tunnel and watched as the woman descended further until disappearing through a door at the bottom of the stairs, with it closing behind her.

‘She’s going into the sewers?’ Fang’s nose scrunched up, disgusted at the thought of entering.

‘It’s a maintenance tunnel. Likely leads to an underground substation so I don’t think we’re gonna be entering the sewers.’ Ken said, starting to walk down the steps.

Fang’s face eased as she followed along. ‘As long as we ain’t stepping in shit.’

The two took steps down into the tunnel and the dark depths below. They stopped at the door after Ken tried to turn the knob, only to find it locked.

‘I got it.’ Fang said as she kneeled down, taking a thin set of lock-picks hidden in a compartment in the hem of her skirt, locked in place by a clip-button.

‘Gotta try that at some point.’

‘What?’ She questioned, working on picking the lock’s tumblers. ‘Wearing a skirt?’

‘I was talking about lock-picking, but do you think I’d look nice in a skirt?’

She let out a chortle. ‘You’d have found a way to be queerer than me.’ She said as the door swung open.

‘Great work.’

‘Maybe we can celebrate by going dress-shopping after this.’

They entered a decently spacious compound made of concrete lit up by a handful of glowing orange lightbulbs connected by a mess of wires to some junction boxes screwed unto the walls. The low lighting, and dust-filled stuffy air gave the place a derelict quality exacerbated by some vulgar graffiti and cracks in the walls. The floors had some small chunks of the wall littered upon it, along with some pebbles dragged from above, causing subtle crackling noises under the weight of each step they took.

Ken pulled out his “Shaw and Watson Model 3” revolver, an elegant-looking old break-action service revolver he kept from his days in the army. Although, he noted that the more recent semi-auto pistols in the current century were far more reliable in stopping threats especially with more than the six bullets his revolver could hold. He simply chose to rely on this specific firearm instead, as he took a particular pride in making each shot count.

Fang, on the other hand, pulled out a “Holtz Model 1911”, a much newer semi-auto handgun. Ken took notice of the intricate engravings carved into the slide and whispered a comment in response. ‘Engravings? Really?’

Fang stopped to stare at him in annoyance. ‘What?’

‘So tacky…’

‘Screw you.’

The sound of a couple of voices echoed through the hall putting them on high alert as they continued to approach. The voices emanated from a doorway on their left, and Ken pinned himself to the corner of it, with Fang right behind him, both with pistols at the ready.

‘This deal gives me the heeby-jeebies.’ A strong feminine voice stated. ‘Do you think they’re gonna honour the deal?’

‘I reckon, they gotta.’ Another much lighter feminine voice responded. ‘It’s gonna happen at some fancy house party right?’

‘Do you even know what’s being traded at the party?’

‘Beats me. The boss put this whole thing under a full information black-out so only those involved actually know.’

Ken felt a small nudge from behind him and found Fang handing him a small make-up mirror, which he took and used to peek around the corner safely, revealing a room lit up by three floating “fairy fires”, these palm-sized balls of light hovering throughout the room. There were two people that Ken could see, Kalem, the elf woman they were following, and one much shorter green-skinned goblin-woman seated upon an appropriately small straw and metal chair with a cushion beneath her. He then looked at the right side of the room and saw some radio equipment with large wires leading from it and entering through a hole in the ceiling.

The strong voice, now revealed to be the voice of Kalem Vi-Shana, continued to speak. ‘I don’t like it one bit.’

The goblin playfully kicked her feet as she spoke back. ‘Like it or don’t like it, you gotta trust the boss on this one.’

‘I know. I trust the boss with my life, but this whole situation just shouts “backstabbing waiting to happen”.’ She complained as she stressfully adjusted her long ponytail with a blue ribbon at the end, unsure whether to keep it hanging behind her or dangling off of her shoulder. ‘And why do it at such a public place? Won’t some people grow suspicious about it?’

Ken continued to adjust the mirror to confirm the presence of anyone else in the room, and upon seeing no other figure, handed it back to Fang, pointing up two fingers, to which she nodded. He then gave her a nod with three fingers up, prompting her to ready herself. The three fingers became two then one then-

‘Hands up where I can see them.’ Ken ordered as they ran in with guns drawn and pointed toward the people in the room. The goblin and the elven woman did as they asked

However, as Ken approached the elf, she swung her leg back and her torso forward, hitting his hand with the heel of her foot. The revolver was sent into the air, and as Fang turned her gun on the elf, the elf leaped to her side, flipping herself and throwing her ponytail toward Fang. The ribbon at the tip of the ponytail released, revealing the silver glint of a blade swiftly finding its way toward Fang’s neck, only to be blocked by her metal arm.

Ken attempted to approach the elf, only for her to respond with a series of acrobatic flips and kicks, her hair-blade swinging vigorously around, forcing Fang and Ken to keep their distance.

Fang, frustrated at the retaliation, tried to steady her aim to the spinning ballerina of death in front of her, only for her gun to be kicked out of her hand as well.

In a matter of a few seconds, the elf grabbed unto the blade of her ponytail and thrust it toward Fang, while Ken dove for the revolver that was flung out of his hand. Fang was readying herself against her attacks and was using her metal arm as a small shield against the strikes of her blade.

Ken grabbed hold of his revolver and swiftly pointed it over toward the elf, only to find her constant melee against Fang being far too risky to pull the trigger on.

Fang was constantly being pressured by her, but upon recognising a small pattern in her attack, successfully caught her hair mid-thrust. She pulled hard, causing the elf to yell in pain and buckle down.

CRACK!

As Fang pulled her hair, her knee flung hard against her face, launching her back and sending sputters of blood into the air.

Upon seeing Fang handling the fight well on her own, his attention turned toward the goblin in the room who was in the process of scurrying toward Fang’s pistol left on the floor. She stopped short of grabbing it as the cold barrel of Ken’s revolver planted itself firmly against the back of her head.

Ken then looked toward Fang and saw that she held the elf under her arms with her hair-blade placed right by her jugular, ready to release more blood than just her now broken nose.

‘Ready to behave?’ Ken heaved out. ‘We just came to ask about this little trade of yours.’

The elf spat near Ken’s foot. ‘Shove it, you flame-haired rat-boy.’

‘Wha-’ Ken said exasperated. ‘Why do people keep calling me a rodent?’

‘What do you think we should do, Ken?’ Fang questioned. ‘They don’t seem like the talkative types.’

‘I’m not really keen on killing any-more.’ Ken stated.

‘Then?’

‘You got a blade. Use it to cut her hair.’

‘WHAT!?’ The elf panicked at the suggestion.

‘With pleasure.’ Fang grinned.

‘Wait-wait-wait!’

‘Your hair or your info.’ Ken offered.

‘I don’t-’

‘Wrong answer.’ Fang seethed, letting the knife slice one strand of hair.

‘WAIT! I know where the party is!’ The goblin shouted.

‘Okay,’ Ken said crouching down to meet the goblin’s fearful gaze as she turned around slowly. ‘Sorry, by the way. Wasn’t supposed to be this violent.’

‘A-ah. It’s okay.’

‘Don’t be a damn pushover!’ The elf yelled angrily.

‘Look.’ Ken raised his gun away from the goblin.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ Fang asked loudly.

‘You already have a knife to her throat, and I’m honestly just tired. Can’t we just relax for a moment? ‘Cause I just realised something important.’

Ken leaned past the goblin and picked up Fang’s pistol off of the ground, unloading it and emptying the chamber for her to watch. He then did the same for his revolver, and placed both guns along with their ammo in the pockets of his coat. He spoke his thoughts aloud while maintaining level eye contact with the goblin. ‘We happened to be eavesdropping before we barged in, so I just wanted to ask. Just how much do you trust the people you’re doing this trade with?’

‘They don’t really have a reputation, so the boss is dealing with some real unknowns.’ She answered.

‘Well, I happen to think that we can help each other out here. Y’see… I’m currently trying to find information about her boss over there.’ He said pointing over to Fang. ‘Her boss happens to want something to do with that item your boss has.’

‘We’ll die before we hand it over to you.’ The elf shouted.

‘Who says we needed it for long? All I’m saying is that we use it as bait, and then you can have it back after.’ Ken asked, then continued his speech. ‘There’s a real tidy sum of money that would come out of capturing her boss, so-’

‘So you’re offering our group a better deal?’ The goblin asked with a beaming expression.

‘Yes, little miss.’ Ken answered. ‘I’m talking a small amount of two-thousand Bullions going straight into the coffers of the Yarrows.’

‘Two-thousand!? Shit, Kalem! That’s a lot more than what was offered to the boss!’

‘Keep your mouth shut, Elen.’ The elf rebuked.

‘Look,’ Ken reasoned. ‘You got a knife that’s ready to give you an impromptu hair-cut and I know you love your hair too much. Instead of that, I’m giving you an offer so good that it’ll send you up the ranks of the Yarrows.’

‘Prove it then, asswipe. I don’t believe a word you say.’

‘You checked a newspaper lately? Or listened to the radio?’ Ken smugly asked. ‘If you’ve seen the name “Ken Larsen”, that’s me. I helped someone real rich and now he wants me to get to the bottom of a personal case of his.’

‘W-well,’ the goblin called Elen interjected, ‘the newspapers described Ken Larsen as a detective with blond hair, blue eyes-’

Ken lifted up his left pant leg, revealing the sheen of his mechanical limb. ‘I got my badge here too.’ He said as he pulled it out, showing it to the two of them. ‘I don’t think I could fake both my badge and getting my leg cut off.’

‘You expect us to work for a cop?’ The elf asked rhetorically.

‘If it makes you money and keeps you out of jail?’ Ken responded. ‘Yeah. I would say so.’

The elf named Kalem sighed. ‘Fine.’

Ken nodded to Fang, making her release her grip on the elf. He then took a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it over to Kalem, who snatched it out of his hand and plugged it straight into her bleeding nose.

He continued to kneel in front of the goblin, asking one more question. ‘Now. How much do you know about the trade taking place?’

___

‘An Alfrian manuscript?’ Sandra interviewed Agatha as they walked to an emptier part of the Grand Library of Yggdra.

‘Pages of an Alfrian manuscript.’ Agatha answered. ‘To be more specific, pages of an Alfrian and Sylvian manuscript.’

‘Sylvian?’

‘Fae.’

‘Ah.’

Agatha explained. ‘Essentially, the thieves broke into a part of the library that no person from the races of Man could ever open unless they planned on hacking their way through. Which would be entirely too time-consuming against this impossibly hard wood.’

Sandra snickered, and Agatha raised an eyebrow. ‘Sorry.’

Sandra composed herself before continuing her interview. ‘You couldn’t just use “Herbamancy” to shift your way through?’

‘The Great Tree only listens to its own denizens, so no.’

‘I see.’ Sandra said before realising something. ‘Wait, you said “no person from the races of Man”.’

‘Indeed… There are beings that have capabilities that are beyond that of a standard mage. Dragons for one.’

‘I doubt a dragon did it, though.’

‘Nope. It was a fairly clean job for the most part, and nothing was destroyed. So that leaves two types of creatures that might have been responsible.’

‘The fae?’

‘And an “Outer-planar entity”, but once again…’ Agatha said as she adjusted her glasses. ‘That’s assuming that the thief wasn’t alone.’

‘I see…’ Sandra’s words trailed off before she remembered about her uncle’s request. ‘Oh but more on the manuscript!’

‘Well, the manuscript was stolen by a group called the “Yarrows”. The thief even left a calling card, so they were pretty damn sure they weren’t gonna get caught. Some folks who were in the library at the time noticed them leaving though, and they ended up tearing some pretty important pages before tossing the book for the guards to pick up.’

‘Right, so what exactly was on the pages?’

‘Well, that’s the issue.’ Agatha said as she started to shift more out-of-place books. ‘It’s written in two tongues, Alfrian, a dead language, and Sylvian, one only the fae within the deepest parts of the Fae realm know, so it’s to anyone’s guess as to what the hell it even says.’

‘That’s quite a pain…’ Sandra sighed as she wrapped her head around what she’s heard.

‘Why does Ken want to know anyway?’

‘He’s trying to find the people who planned the heist on some Dawnite artefacts.’

‘Ah. And he believes it’s connected somehow?’

‘I mean, it’s at least interesting.’

‘Yes, indeed.’ Agatha agreed. ‘A case involving the oldest known civilisation known to man, and a more recent, but still long-destroyed elven society. Not to mention the fae.’

‘Well, when you put it like that,’ Sandra said, letting out a nervous chuckle, ‘I’m honestly a little worried.’

Agatha looked at an anxious Sandra and placed a hand on her shoulder. ‘Hey.’ She whispered gently as she hunched closer to Sandra’s face. ‘This is your uncle we’re talking about. He can weasel his way out of anything, no matter how dangerous.’

‘Yeah… He really can.’ Sandra muttered, attempting to cheer herself up.

‘Why don’t you go home and wait for him? Borrow some books. Take Riley over to your place and read them together.’

‘Y’know what, sure.’ Sandra settled.

She walked off to another part of the library where she met with her friend, Riley, who was a ginger leporid girl with long drooping rabbit ears, and a face full of freckles partially covered with a thick set of circular spectacles placed atop a nose that slightly glowed red from her natural blush, and a mess of auburn hair that extended to her mid-back. She wore a white headband atop her head, and on this day, she wore a silky white sundress and a yellow yarn top.

She sat by a table with a stack of books left behind by other visitors, and upon seeing Sandra, her face lit up. She stood, setting aside the small novel she was reading and approached Sandra. ‘Done, Sandra?’ She asked in her thick Islian accent.

Sandra had a hint of a blush as Riley stood close to her. A little too close, she thought. ‘Y-yeah… We can go…’

The pair set off and after checking out a handful of tomes, exited through the massive doors of the Grand Library. Riley then asked ‘where to, Sandra?’

‘We could go to my place and hang out there.’ She suggested.

‘Oh, I’d love to.’ Riley excitedly said. ‘We could look through the airship catalogue. I know you’ve been right excited to read that.’

‘We chose one of my books last time, and the time before that.’ Sandra pointed out. ‘Why don’t we choose one of yours this time.’

‘Okay, then why not help me study up on runic theory?’

Sandra barely stifled a groan at the thought of having to do arcane studies during summer break. ‘Uhhh… Sure…’

‘Alright! When we get to your place, we can get started with the section on controlling manaflow. I feel like I always get the exit glyph’s syntax wrong.’

‘But on one condition.’

‘What might that condition be?’

‘I wanna hear you talk all about it.’ Sandra said smiling warmly.

CHAPTER END