I was to start under the employ of the Lady Eizenstrauss the day after the next, and being something of a perfectionist and not wanting to make a poor impression, I used the spare time I had in the evenings that followed to prepare. In this case, working at a well-to-do records office had its perks, and it was only a small matter of pretense to borrow a few old street maps.

Fortunately, it seemed there were no significant constraints concerning when I was to work for the mysterious noblewoman, as long as letters or parcels I picked up on a given day made it to their destination by ten o'clock that evening. Thus, I could still hold my employment at Sullivan's in the mornings.

By the time the long-awaited day came, I found myself flipping idly through pages of the office ledger--not really looking at its contents, but rather watching the pages fall in time with the ticking seconds. My eagerness was fueled by curiosity as to what I would find when I visited the Eizenstrauss estate; Dobbs had been rather mum as to what it was like, no doubt one last effort to prod my nerves before leaving.

My mind shifted to my associate as I thought of this, and I wondered mildly if perhaps I had been too harsh with him in the past. After all, it was by his kindness that I should even be in this favorable position. As much as his boorish ways did often grate upon me, I couldn't help but wish the best for him, and cross my fingers in hopes that the next postman would be half as entertaining.

"Miss Cleyne?" came a voice from behind me. I turned to me Edward Sullivan, the eponymous owner of the record's office, approaching with his coat slung around his arm. He was a tall, round man in his late forties with a bald head and a curled brown mustache. His spectacles were curved and angled, often reflecting the light of wherever he was and making it look as though to tiny suns were constantly hovering over his face. I sat up and greeted him, to which he responded by looking at his watch and back up to me. "What are you doing here this late? I would've thought you'd've left by now."

"Whatever do you mean?" I inquired, "It's only mid-afternoon."

"It's half an hour to close, Miss Cleyne," he said, a hint of concern in his voice. I usually left work two hours before, though it seemed that in my daydreaming, I had lost track of the time.

I sprang from my desk with such urgency that Mister Sullivan himself was taken aback, for which I apologized hurriedly and went for my satchel. "I've errands to run, you see, and I should not be late if I want them done today."

Mister Sullivan frowned, more with worry than anything else, though I quickly assured him that all was well, and excused myself. I understood to an extent why Dobbs had kept quiet about his private contract with Lady Eizenstrauss to the post; I myself didn't wish Mister Sullivan to find out, lest he became anxious over the possibility of losing my assistance. After all, it was difficult to find qualified help for a records office like this one.

Following a quick stop at the local grocer to change my shoes, I set about making my way to visit the Eizenstrauss estate. The route Old Imperial district lead north and west of the Temple Quarter, and thus about a half an hour jaunt on foot. Much to my delight, it also passed through the Garden Plaza, and as I still had plenty of daylight to spare, I took my time as I went through.

The Garden Plaza was another of those often overlooked locales within Nevarynn City, being no bigger than a couple of blocks, yet to me, it ranked as one of the most beautiful, and I loved spending time among the Edelweiss patches which frequently covered the low mountainsides near the city's southern slopes.

It was here that I rested, finding a quaint little bench beneath a vibrant green conifer. Aside from my being late to leave work, as well as my mounting anxiety over beginning my new job, I had to admit, the day had been a rather splendid one, and I felt it necessary to be grateful for that. After all, how can one truly enjoy the wonders of life if they always take it for granted?

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As I mired my mind in thoughts like this, however, I seemed to drift off until a flash of white caught my eye. I traced it back, my gaze settling on the figure of a tall, delicate woman clad in a brilliant white dress who was sitting not far from me on the edge of the fountain. I marveled at the sight of her, for she must certainly have been one of the most beautiful women in all the world.

She seemed not to notice my presence, and similarly, I didn't notice myself staring intently at her with my mouth hanging agape. Despite her splendor, there was a curious air about her, one that seemed to reach into my chest and squeeze my heart. I could not look away, even as her sad, silvery eyes rose to meet my own.

I felt pressure all of a sudden underneath my chin, forcing my mouth closed and I looked away to find a figure standing in front of me. A small, slight young lady, dressed wholly in a blackened gown; she removed her fingers from my chin and stepped back, smiling down at me and studying my features with a pair of deep brown, almost reddish-colored eyes.

"You shouldn't leave your mouth hanging open. You might swallow a spider," she said, her voice low and honeyed as if she were a beast talking to a morsel of prey. I looked at her, somewhat baffled, though perhaps more so with confusion, as if released from a spell. I quickly looked back, but the woman in white was nowhere to be seen.

The girl's eyes followed my gaze, and then came back to me, "Are you unwell, Miss Cleyne?"

I remembered myself, recognizing my name on instinct, but not the voice that spoke it and I returned to the girl. "Oh, yes," I said, trying to recover, "Yes, I just thought I saw something, that's all."

She smiled again, her eyelids closing a little. She looked like a little fox just then. A fox with long, gray hair uncommon for a girl so young. I guessed she must've been about sixteen, maybe less, and the clothes she wore suggested she was likely came from highborn blood. A flowy, flowery dress that came to a ruffled end just above her knees--a common trend among the city's fashionistas.

"Ah, um," I stammered, still a bit caught off guard, "My apologies, Miss...?"

"Millenia," she responded, placing a silk gloved hand over her chest and bowing gently, though her eyes remained locked with mine.

I stood, returning the bow as best I could in the state I was in and looked again to where the woman in white was standing. Gone. And without even so much as a trace. What a strange evening this was turning into, and I still had yet to visit Lady Eizenstrauss' estate.

"Do you often stare off so blankly into the nothingness, Miss Cleyne?" came the girl's voice, once again snatching me from the precipice of a mental fog.

"So it would seem," I said, returning once again to the girl and trying to make light of my own folly. I found myself looking down upon her now, for she must not have stood taller a hand-full of feet high, and appeared, even more, the form of a child. I mentally recalculated her age--surely she must be no more than twelve or thirteen, though if so, she was extraordinarily eloquent for her age.

"I suppose it can't be helped, what with all the strange things you must see," she said cryptically and began to leave.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked after her, now fully back amongst my own senses. "What do you mean?"

She stopped and spun swiftly on her heel to face me, wearing that same devilish grin as before. "What indeed?"

I looked at her, and she at me, for some time. It was a strange feeling--I felt as though I were once again locked into a gaze, yet this felt more like that of a duel of witts, and if I should have looked away first, I surely would lose it. For whatever reason, such a thing seemed unacceptable to me, and I determined myself to win this little childish sort of battle.

"Have a good evening...Miss Cleyne," she said, her words so low that they were almost a whisper, and then she simply disengaged me.

I watched her leave, and only when she was out of sight did I allow myself to relax, letting out a breath of air that I thought I must've been holding for well over a minute. It seemed that I was the victor, though I wondered wryly if that were indeed the case after all. Whatever the truth, a part of me hoped that she and I would not meet again.

I became aware of the coloring of the sky just then and realized that, once more, it seemed I had dawdled a spell too long. Now I would certainly be making my deliveries in the dark.