The country of Trizen, in the bustling continent of Tekuno, was alive with its usual energy—neon signs flickering against the evening sky, the chatter of people filling the streets, and the occasional hum of electric cars filling the street. It was the first time since Tokei, Nanik, and Farthington had left that Kaelith and Cordellia ventured out from the Shadow Phoenix base. Their mission was simple: errands, including a crucial stop to secure Cordellia’s forged ID.

Kaelith glanced at the note Tokei had handed him before they parted ways. The instructions were clear, but as they stood in front of the building, doubt began to creep into his mind.

“Is this it?” he muttered, looking up at the structure. The building loomed over them with a stark and clean design, its facade marked with an insignia that screamed official. The polished exterior and the presence of uniformed guards gave it the unmistakable air of a government facility.

Cordellia tilted her head, studying the place as well. “It looks... official,” she murmured. Her mild knightly accent carried a tone of uncertainty.

Kaelith scratched the back of his head. “Isn’t this too official looking for something like this…?” he thought, narrowing his eyes at the building.

As they approached the building, a sleek holo-panel by the entrance flickered to life, displaying a set of automated instructions. Kaelith hesitated for a moment, then reached out and tapped the screen. It blinked briefly before a soft, monotone voice spoke.

"State your purpose."

Kaelith leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial tone. “We’re here for... the deluxe pro ultra premium advanced package.”

The panel paused, processing the request. Then the screen shifted, displaying a map of the interior with a highlighted route in green. A faint click echoed as the doors unlocked.

“Huh,” Kaelith muttered, stepping back. “Guess this is the right place after all.”

Cordellia cast a wary glance around, her reptilian golden eyes scanning the surroundings. “Let’s make this quick,” she said, her tone firm but tinged with slight unease.

“Agreed,” Kaelith replied, pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The lobby was stark and modern, with polished surfaces that gleamed under bright artificial lighting. They barely had time to take it all in before a receptionist greeted them. She was a middle-aged woman with a no-nonsense demeanor, her eyes briefly flicking over them before she spoke.

“You’ll be heading to the room on the far left, right over there,” she said, pointing down the corridor.

Cordellia offered a polite nod and a small bow. “Thank you, my lady,” she said, her knightly upbringing evident in her formal tone.

Kaelith smirked faintly but said nothing as they followed the directions. The corridor was quiet, the sound of their footsteps muffled against the plush flooring. When they reached the designated room, a small plaque on the door read: Henry Yu.

Kaelith was slightly curious. ‘That name sounds like a foreigner’s…’

Cordellia, however, didn’t give it a second thought. Without hesitation, she reached for the handle and pushed the door open.

Inside, the room was unexpectedly cozy compared to the sterile, official atmosphere of the rest of the building. A man sat behind a cluttered desk, his appearance unassuming—mid-thirties, with neatly combed black hair and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He wore a tailored suit but had the sleeves rolled up, giving off an air of casual professionalism.

The nameplate on the desk confirmed it: Henry Yu.

“hello,” the man said, barely looking up as he tapped away at a holographic keyboard projected above his desk. “You must be here for the... deluxe pro ultra premium advanced package, You’re acquaintences of Nanik I presume?” His tone was dry, with a hint of sarcasm, as though he found the phrase amusing.

Kaelith raised an eyebrow. This guy doesn’t even try to hide the shady nature of his business, he thought.

“Yes,” Cordellia replied in her knightly tone, undeterred. “We were instructed to meet with you.”

Henry finally looked up, his eyes sharp behind the glasses. He scanned them both for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Alright, let’s get down to business.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

With a wave of his hand, the holographic interface shifted, displaying a series of forms and data entries. “Who’s the ID for?”

“Her,” Kaelith said, nodding toward Cordellia.

Henry leaned forward, studying Cordellia intently. His gaze lingered on her g, and his lips curled into a faint smirk. “Interesting look you’ve got there. Stand out much?”

Cordellia stiffened slightly but remained composed. “It’s not uncommon where I’m from. It runs in my family.”

“Uh-huh,” Henry replied, unconvinced. “Well, the less I know, the better.” He tapped a few buttons, and the hologram flickered. “I can get you something that’ll hold up to scrutiny. Just need a name, birthdate, and any affiliations you want me to include—or exclude.”

Cordellia hesitated, glancing at Kaelith. He nodded, silently urging her to proceed.

“Cordellia Pendragon,” she said firmly, her tone carrying a quiet dignity.

Henry whistled softly. “Fancy. Alright, Lady Pendragon. Let’s make you someone else.”

He started typing again, occasionally glancing at Cordellia for confirmation as he adjusted the details. Kaelith watched closely, his hand still near his sword. The process took only a few minutes before Henry handed over a sleek black card with Cordellia’s new information.

“There you go. As far as anyone’s concerned, you’re now ‘Cora Penwright.’ Keep it safe, don’t flaunt it, and, uh, don’t get caught doing anything too illegal.”

Cordellia took the card and gave a polite bow. “Thank you, Mr. Yu.”

Henry waved her off. “Yeah, yeah. You’ve got the ID, I’ve got my payment. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other... premium clients to attend to.”

As they left the room, Kaelith exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That guy was... something.”

Cordellia tucked the card into her pocket, her posture straight and composed. “I believe he was quite helpful.”

Kaelith shook his head, muttering, “Let’s just get out of here before anything else happens.”

The two exited the building, blending back into the bustling streets of Trizen, with the first errand out of the way it was time to grab some groceries and then head back.

While we walked to our next destination we passed through a park, in which Cordellia seemed to see some thing and randomly ran off.

“Hey wait! Where are you going. If anything happens while she’s gone, Tokei will be furious!”

In an attempt to catch up with her, I also ran the same way and eventually caught up to her. She was near a woman who was crying.

“My daughter! Where did she go!” the woman wailed.

“Compose yourself madam, do not take fright, for me and my companion here will aid you in finding your daughter.” turning to me Cordellia looked extremely serious.

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "Cordellia, you can’t just run off like that. Do you have any idea how—"

She cut me off with a sharp look, her golden eyes burning with resolve. “This is a matter of grave importance. A child could be in danger, Kaelith.”

I groaned, knowing there was no talking her out of it. “Fine, but next time, warn me before you bolt.”

Cordellia turned back to the distraught woman. “Can you tell us what your daughter looks like and where you last saw her?”

The woman sniffled and tried to compose herself, though her voice still trembled. “Her name is Lily. She’s six years old, with short blonde hair and a blue dress. I... I lost sight of her near the fountain in the middle of the park.”

Cordellia nodded firmly. “Understood. Stay here, madam. We’ll find her.”

Turning back to me, Cordellia gestured to the opposite end of the park. “You take the eastern side. I’ll search the west. Keep an eye out for anything suspicious.”

“Got it,” I muttered, already moving.

The park’s lively atmosphere felt almost suffocating as I weaved through the crowd, scanning every corner and face for any sign of Lily. Families picnicked, children played tag, and joggers passed by. I approached the fountain where Lily’s mother said she’d last seen her, but there was no sign of the girl.

“Lily?” I called out, my voice barely carrying over the noise.

No response. I sighed and kept moving, my frustration mounting. I passed under a canopy of trees where the park grew quieter, the chatter of the crowd fading into the background. My eyes darted to every shaded nook, every bench, hoping for a clue.

As I ventured further east, the landscape began to change. The neatly maintained paths gave way to rougher terrain, and fewer people were around. A fence marked the park’s boundary, beyond which lay a sprawling industrial area. The towering warehouses cast long shadows, their dull, metallic walls a stark contrast to the greenery behind me.

A faint glint caught my eye near the fence. As I moved closer, I noticed a section of the chain-link gate had been forced open, its jagged edges leaving a gap just wide enough for a child to crawl through. Caught on one of the sharp wires was a tattered piece of blue fabric, fluttering weakly in the breeze.

My stomach sank. “That’s not good...”

I crouched by the opening, inspecting the area. The dirt showed faint scuff marks, as if small feet had passed through recently. The sight made my chest tighten.

Pulling out my phone, I quickly dialed Cordellia. Before she left, Tokei had given her a phone in her typical style—carefully prepared and left in a box with a note. After a few rings, the call connected.

“Cordellia, I found something near a warehouse-like building. There’s an opening in the fence, and it looks like Lily might’ve gone through.”

“Understood. I’m on my way,” Cordellia said, her tone steady before disconnecting the call.

Just as I put the phone away, I thought I heard a faint sound—a muffled cry? I froze, straining to hear, but the sound didn’t come again.

“Damn it,” I muttered, glancing back toward the park. If Lily was in there, I couldn’t waste time waiting for Cordellia to arrive.

I slipped through the gap in the fence, the jagged metal scraping against my jacket. My hand instinctively went to where the hilt of my sword should have been, only to grasp at nothing. Of course—it wasn’t with me. Who in their right mind would bring a sword on a simple grocery run?

Clenching my fists, I moved cautiously toward the warehouse, every step filled with tension.