"Open wide, Garreth." The gnomish physician pushed down on the man's tongue with a flat stick, inspecting the back of his throat. Confirming the absence of redness, he set aside the depressor and planted the cool disc of his stethoscope against Garreth's bare chest. "Breathe."

"Is this really necessary?"

"It's a measure to combat Rose Blight. These check-ups are to make sure you aren't infected. And because cases are skyrocketing, they're now a legal requirement."

"Look, I feel fine. My only exposure to this Rose Blight crap is a guy who says his family died of it. Even then, he was wearing a mask up till I lopped his head off. Didn't hear a single cough either."

"Any form of contact is a potential risk. So, would you please breathe in for me?"

The Bureau agent groaned and complied with his request. One inhale later, and the doctor wrote down the results on his clipboard. "Well? Am I clean, doc?" Garreth asked, tapping his feet.

"So far, you exhibit no signs or symptoms of Rose Blight."

"And I don't plan to anytime soon. So, am I free to go?"

"Yep, you're dismissed. Just be sure to take it easy so you don't reopen any wounds."

"Duly noted." Garreth swiped the clean linen tunic from the table beside him and donned it, covering his scarred, bandage-wrapped body. "Alright, thanks for patching me up, doc."

"Oh... one more thing." Legs dangling from his stool, the physician struck a match and lit his pipe. "This magus you did in... Kaz, was it? Do you recall where his corpse was? Rose Blight can survive weeks after its host's death, so if by any chance the body is still out there..."

"It was burned to ashes, along with the rest of the factory."

"Yet curiously, neither you nor the other survivors have a single burn mark."

"If I told you how we made it out alive last week was a miracle, would you believe me?"

As he took a draw from his pipe, the diminutive, bulbous-nosed physician gazed up at the ceiling. "Well, let's leave it at that." Pensively, he let out a puff and watched as the smoke dispersed in the spinning blades of the rotary fan above. He then hopped to his feet, strode up to the stepladder by the exit and climbed it with a wobbly gait. Holding the door open, he saw Thomas off with a bearded smile. "If you ever come down with a fever, you know where to find me."

"Sorry to say, but I make an effort not to end up here," his patient retorted.

"And Garreth," the gnome stopped him, his face stern. "Try not to get yourself killed out there."

The Bureau agent took a second to consider his advice. "Sure—when you quit smoking."

And stepping out of the doctor's office into a barren corridor, Garreth pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. As this was a newly built medical facility reserved for government personnel, he wasn't surprised to see it empty of people. But for a building where lives were saved, its sterile, whitewashed walls and polished floorboards ironically rendered it lifeless and bleak. Only the windows at the opposite ends of the hall provided light to this otherwise gloomy place.

"Why the long face, Direwolf of Blackmoor?"

Garreth shot a glance at the redheaded woman leaning against the notice board beside him with her arms crossed. She wore the emblem of the Bureau and a braid that cascaded down to her waist. In place of her left ankle was a copper peg, brown and oxidised from years of use. Standing almost as tall as the man, she commanded an air of authority, aided by her broad shoulders, thick brows, and sharp, fiery gold eyes.

"Oh... Diana..."

"That's Chief Locke to you, agent."

"No one's around; you can drop the act."

The woman chuckled. "Seriously, though... imagine my shock when I heard our very own ace screwed up a case this badly for the first time. Not only that but with nothing to show for it! Really threw me for a loop. Guess having a partner truly does cramp your style, huh?"

"Speaking of..." Garreth brushed aside her sarcastic comments. "How's the kid?"

"Not dead, at least. Doctors told me they had to amputate a couple of fingers. There's also the broken ribs and damaged windpipe, but they expect that to heal up soon. Spike missed every major vein and artery, they said. Basically, she's damn lucky to even be alive. Too lucky..."

"Good, that's one less thing to worry about."

"Strange of you to fret over a girl you only met a week ago. It was always mission first with you."

"It's different when that someone is your assigned partner—a rookie, no less."

"As expected of a former soldier..."

"So?" Swiftly, the man glid up to confront her. "What's the deal with her? Why is an untrained, socially inept, overly emotional loose cannon like her in the Bureau to begin with?"

Feeling Garreth's glare burn through her, Diana smirked. "That's also what I'd like to know."

"Come off it. You're district chief; you get the final say on who gets in or not."

"And I'm telling you, it was out of my hands. Orders came directly from the top dog."

"Top dog? You don't mean..."

"Someone from the ministry or the Director herself. Either way, I had no choice but to comply."

"This kid some kind of bigshot or what?"

"Not that I'm aware of. I've gone over her file countless times and still can't make sense of it. Orphan turned police cadet with only three years of experience, zero arrests, and a mediocre performance review suddenly getting transferred to our division—never seen anything like it."

"And you thought to entrust a novice like that to me?"

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

"Whoever sent out the injunction specifically requested she be paired up with you."

"Hold on. That's not what I was told. You informed me the reason we were assigned together was because you determined that out of all the on-duty agents, we'd work best."

"Oh... I did, didn't I?" Quietly, the woman looked straight through the man. "Well, I lied."

"And why would you do that?"

"Because if I didn't lie, you'd have thrown a fit and gone on strike. To avoid the headache altogether, I went ahead and made it required for all Bureau agents to work in pairs. Obviously, I never thought things would go this south, considering your track record and all, but..."

In that instant, Garreth pivoted on his heel and stormed away from her. "You go fuck yourself."

"Wait, wait, wait... Gary." Hurriedly, Diana grabbed him by the shoulder. "Let's not be hasty now. Listen to me; we've known each other for years. I stuck up for you when no one else would. You know I'd never screw you on purpose. What happened was a mere lapse in judgment."

"One that endangered innocent lives and levelled an entire building."

"No one died but bluebloods that day. Actually... two young boys did, but that was due to incompetence on the part of the police force. It wasn't an ideal outcome, but better than most."

"Right, like that makes what you pulled any better."

"Look, it is what it is. There's no changing the past. I fucked up, you fucked up. And above all, the higher-ups? They know we fucked up. All we can do is learn from this mishap and move on."

"So, where do we go from here?"

"On the bright side, you and your partner got off pretty light. Only a month of paperwork before you're out on the field again. For a debacle of that magnitude, it's practically a slap on the wrist."

"A debacle that could've been avoided had you been honest with me."

"Now, now, let's not point any fingers. I covered for your ass. And it's not like I got off scot-free, either. So let's bury the hatchet and get along like we used to, alright? Come on, Gary."

Looking over his shoulder, the man heaved out a sigh. "Fine. I'll let it slide this time. But cross me again, and I'm turning in my resignation. Any information you withhold means life or death; remember that. And if I learn you're hiding anything else from me... well, we're done."

Wordlessly, the woman watched as he strode away. Picking up on his underlying message, she gritted her teeth and called out to him from across the hall. "I still haven't forgotten my promise to you!" Diana loudly spoke. "When I find the bastard who murdered your family, you'll be the first to know about it... I swear to you on my life!"

For a moment, the man froze, only to return with a wave, back still facing her. "Yeah, I know..."

Descending a flight of stairs and wandering through empty corridors, Garreth cast about and happened upon a door bearing a familiar room number. Gripped by nervousness, the man stood still, his hand hovering over the brass handle. The sight of dried blood beneath his slippers dredged up unpleasant memories of the last time he visited someone in an infirmary. And before he could steel himself and enter, the door swung open.

A middle-aged woman in a gown and apron emerged from inside, lugging a bucket of water with a cloth draped over its handle. "P-pardon me, milord, did you need something?"

"Ah, no... just wondering if my partner's in there—the girl with the freckles and the ears?"

"Oh, you're at the right place. Just finished washing up the wee lass a minute ago. Seemed a tad bit lonely, the poor thing. A friendly visit's just what she needs to cheer her up, I'm certain."

With a respectful bow, the nurse left the man alone. Shaky confidence revitalised by her remark, Garreth soldiered on and found himself in a dimly lit hospital room—a row of beds alongside freshly painted white brickwork. In the far corner, rays of sunlight streamed through mullioned windows, casting a glow on a screen of beige curtains and outlining a faint but recognisable silhouette. And quiet footsteps echoed as the man shuffled beyond the divider.

Behind the partition was an unconscious Lynn, layers of bloodied gauze wrapped around her neck and right hand, from which two digits were missing. Each breath carried a slight wheeze as her chest rose and fell underneath her covers. Staring down at her injuries, Garreth couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. And eyes glued to his partner, the man pulled a wooden stool by her bedside, the scraping of its legs against the floor prompting the girl's pointy ears to twitch.

Roused from her sleep by the sound of Garreth taking his seat, Lynn opened her eyes.

"Oh... didn't mean to wake you."

And stirred by the sight of her partner, the girl laboured to sit up. "S... sir?"

"Woah, easy there, kid." Garreth gestured for her to stay still. "You're in bad shape. It'd be best if you didn't move around too much. Don't worry, I'm not going anywhere."

Sheets rustled, and the mattress creaked as Lynn slackened her shoulders and rested her head against her pillow, the low whir of the ceiling fan accompanying a lengthy stretch of stillness. And feebly, she parted her chapped lips. "I'm... sorry," she uttered weakly, her voice hoarse.

"Sorry?"

"I... messed it up... all of it..."

Catching a glimpse of her disheartened countenance, the man awkwardly scratched his head. "No... it was my fault for not realising you weren't properly trained. You handled the situation exactly how an officer would. In hindsight, it should've been obvious. And, well, truth be told, a lot of things went wrong back there. So, you're not solely to blame for how it panned out."

"I see..." The girl shifted her gaze toward her partner. "T... thank you... sir..."

"I'm hardly deserving of your thanks. Had I been more vigilant, I could've prevented that damn blueblood from wounding you and pushing the zone past its brink. My slip-up almost killed you."

"That's... not true... sir..."

"Also, cut it out with the 'sir'."

"B... but..."

"You lost two of your fingers, didn't you? In the Bureau, losing a body part to a magus is a rite of passage of sorts. That is to say, you're a fully-fledged agent now. No more of this seniority crap."

"Really..?" Lynn's ears perked up. "What did... you lose..? I-if you... don't mind..."

"Ah..." Garreth drew back his bangs and leaned in closer to her, revealing a misaligned glass eye. "My left eye. I cover it with my fringe, so it's not as noticeable. It was either that or an eyepatch. And Diana talked me out of the latter—complained it'd overlap with her pirate style."

"Diana..?"

"Never mind that. Basically, you're no longer a rookie in my eyes. You're first and foremost my partner. That being said, you do look half my age, so I've settled on calling you 'kid' instead."

"K-kid? How old... are you..?"

"Lost count after forty. You?"

"T... twenty-two... next month."

"Huh, you really are a kid."

Amused by his observation, the girl snorted and beamed. "Weird... we're talking... like normal."

"Yeah, we're equals now, kid. Get used to it. Once you recover, though, we'll barely have time to converse freely like this. Mountains of paperwork await the two of us back at headquarters."

And Lynn's ears drooped. "Is... that so..?"

"Well, that's just one of the many things you'll have to look forward to as a government agent." Getting up from his stool, the man swept his hair back in place. "For now, all you need to focus on is resting up. I'll run you through the excruciating details when you can actually hold a pen."

"Yes... sir..."

"I thought I told you not to call me 'sir'."

"S-sorry... habit..."

"Eh, whatever, I'll catch you later, kid" Garreth strolled past her bed, hands in his pockets. "Wish you a speedy recovery."

"H... hey..." With what little energy she could muster, the girl reached out.

And the man came to a standstill. "What is it?"

"I... I've been... thinking..."

"Yeah?"

"Can you tell me... how exactly... we survived?"

Her inquiry was met with a prolonged silence. Unable to see the expression written on Garreth's visage, Lynn simply assumed he didn't hear her. That was until he answered her in a grave tone. "Depends. Can you keep a secret, kid?"

He hearkened back to the day of the incident, a recollection shrouded by violet flames and a dangerous truth. And he recounted the events that led up to their admittance to the hospital.