From the vicar’s, I headed straight to Finella’s. I figured a young, attractive girl would know far more about clubs than a strong-willed priest. The door was opened by her older brother, whose clouded, pupil-less eyes were as murky as smoke. They were mesmerizing, and in contrast, the rest of his appearance seemed utterly forgettable.

“Yes?” the baron asked, staring past me with those blind eyes.

“Lord Flower?”

“That’s me. And to whom do I owe the honor?”

“Magnus Loxlin. Your new neighbor. I rented the Wilcox house yesterday. Lady Finella and Lady Ellie helped me out, so I came by to express my thanks.”

“Come in, young man.”

It was obvious he used the phrase to emphasize the difference in our social and age status, aiming to press down on me with his authority. Finella’s brother looked to be about twice my age, though maybe it was his eyes that made him seem older. Still, Cousin Evan was even older than Flower, and his children were older than me too, and it didn’t affect how we interacted.

“Thank you, Lord,” I said, entirely unshaken.

“Tea?”

“No, thank you.”

“I insist,” Flower said calmly, in a tone that brooked no refusal.

“Well, in that case, I suppose I don’t have a choice.”

“We don’t keep any servants, so you’re welcome in the kitchen.”

Flower took charge of the kettle and motioned for me to sit down by a small dish of cookies. The baron never once glanced at the things he touched – like a true blind man – but his movements were swift and precise.

He placed the kettle under the tap, and while it filled, he measured dried leaves into a ceramic teapot. But instead of setting the full kettle on the stove – which was right there – Flower rolled up his sleeves, extended the kettle in front of him, and placed his left palm beneath its base.

His hand turned blinding white, glowing like molten steel ready to pour. The kitchen grew uncomfortably warm, and within a minute, the water had boiled.

Was I supposed to feel intimidated? I had no idea why he’d done that. Was there a specific purpose behind it, or was he just saving on gas?

Flower poured the boiling water into the teapot and set two cups on the table.

“While we have a few minutes, let’s talk about how you plan to thank my sister, young man.”

“I haven’t decided yet,” I admitted.

“A basket of chocolate cookies will suffice.”

The tea finished steeping, and silence settled over us. I stared into the baron’s cloudy eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening. The hostility in the air was palpable.

“You don’t seem to like me very much,” I noted.

“About as much as one might dislike a young stranger with the troubling mark of a higher etherial on his subtle body, sealed energy nodes, magically enhanced weapons, combat amulets, and a bag full of elemental stones. Did I miss anything?”

He did miss something. I also had first-class potions on me.

“Are you afraid I’ll drag Lady Finella into trouble?”

“I know my sister. Trouble finds her on its own. I fear, young man, that you are one of those troubles. No offense. I don’t know you, and until something compels me otherwise, I’ll stick to that assessment.”

“Will you not let me meet with her?”

“No.”

“In that case, the tea was unnecessary. Good day, Lord Flower.”

“And the same to you, young man.”

Flower was a bit harsh, but at least he was honest. I’m not sure I’d allow my sister to associate with someone as suspicious as me, either. But understanding his motives didn’t bring me any closer to solving my own problems.

Ellie? I wasn’t sure she’d even want to see me after last night’s hunt.

The door to the Sheridans’ home was opened by a tall, muscular young man, about my age or a little older. This time, I cut straight to the point – I didn’t want to sit through another round of unnecessary tea. If Ellie’s family were also shifters, they’d sense the mark on me.

“Good day. May I speak with Lady Ellie?”

“Is it because of you she’s been so gloomy all morning? And who are you, anyway?”

“Magnus Loxlin. We only met yesterday. I’m your new neighbor.”

“The Wilcox house?”

“Yes.”

“Got it. I’m Garfield. Come on in, neighbor.”

He led me to a door on the second floor, knocked, and announced, “Sister, you’ve got a visitor.”

“I know,” murmured Ellie as she opened the door. “Hello, Magnus.”

“How?” Garfield asked, curious.

“Don’t you feel it?” she replied, then clarified, “Gar’s a shifter too.”

Now it was my turn to explain.

“The etheric mark – It’s a ‘gift’ from an ancient spirit. It scares off prey and puts predators on edge.”

"Oh… I’m not really anywhere on that spectrum. I’m bonded to a warhorse spirit. Caught him last year near a cavalry unit in the south while visiting family. No fear whatsoever," Garfield said.

“No emotions or intellect, either,” Elllie added.

“Well, of course goats are so intelligent,” Garfield shot back.

“I’m a deer! A roe deer!” Ellie yelled, smacking her brother on the shoulder.

“Run,” he advised me. “She does this a lot.” Then he fled himself.

“Come in,” Ellie invited. “If you’re here about last night, I’m perfectly fine.”

I stepped into a small room.

“Hello,” said Finella.

“Unexpected,” I greeted the redhead, “but very fortunate! Forgive me, my dear,” I said to Ellie, “don’t think me heartless, but I didn’t come to check on your well-being. Last night, you killed a monster who’s not worth mourning. And it affected you so deeply only because it was your first.”

“Was it the same for you?”

I thought of the hares Grandpa brought back from hunting trips. My acquaintance with death began at ten, when I helped skin hare carcasses. Aunt Mary, Logan, and I plucked chickens together. Then came my first lessons in hunting: the hares shot from a distance, the chickens I had to slaughter myself. Hunting larger game, slaughtering livestock… No, damn it, it started even earlier – with fishing at Thunderloch. Clan children were taught slowly and deliberately.

But the first sentient being I ever killed was Grandpa. And I have no idea what would’ve happened to me if he hadn’t already been dead for some time before that.

“No, it was different for me.”

“Then why are you here?” Finella asked. “Oh, I have your money,” she remembered.

“Yes, but I’m also here to ask for your help. Have you heard of The Golden Tear?”

“Are you joking?” Finella’s eyes lit up. “It’s the most exclusive club in Shine! I’ve only been there once. It’s incredible!”

“And it all ended terribly. I had to lie to my parents and your brother, saying you’d gotten food poisoning from some pastries, while you were puking in the garden,” Ellie remarked. “And James still found out about everything, and…” She stopped at the juiciest part of the story.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“I heard it’s a den of sin.”

“Pfft,” Finella snorted.

“Alcohol, cigarettes, opium, and paid love,” Ellie confirmed.

“You haven’t even been there!” Finella protested.

“But you reeked of all of it,” Ellie snapped.

I stared at the blushing redhead in surprise. Ellie immediately realized she’d said too much and tried to salvage the situation.

“Except for the ‘love,’ of course!”

“And I didn’t smoke opium either, Goat!” Finella shot back.

I imagined how… Never mind.

“So, how does one get in? Any hidden pitfalls? Is wearing a ring enough?”

“In that outfit, they won’t let you in even with a ring,” Finella said. “And you’ll need a charming companion.”

“No, Spark,” Ellie said firmly. “Bad idea!”

“Brilliant idea,” the redhead disagreed, looking at me like a cat sizing up a mouse. “I’ll dress you properly, and you’ll take me with you. Get your wallet out, lord, we’re going shopping!”

“No need. I have a suit.”

“Oh, I’m sure we’ve already seen your impeccable taste.”

“Fine, I think I can spare twenty pounds for this.”

Finella laughed.

“One hundred. Minimum.”

“What!? That’s clothing, not golden armor!”

“What you’re wearing is also clothing, and in it, you won’t get past the entrance.”

I looked at Ellie, hoping for a more reasonable estimate.

“I think we can manage with fifty or seventy,” she said, offering some relief.

“Back home, I had a suit tailored for fiver!”

“Magnus, Farnell may not be the capital, but the prices are just as high.”

“Duncan,” I sighed. “My real name is Duncan Magnus Kinkaid, Baron of Loxlin from the Clan of Bremor.”

“And what should we call you?”

“Magnus Loxlin. Let’s keep it secret for now.”

There was no escaping it. The girls hauled me to one of the local ready-to-wear shops, which conveniently had in-house tailors, flagged down a sales assistant, and started pulling suits off the racks. Even Ellie couldn’t help but be entertained by the whole ‘dress-up doll’ routine.

As for me, I was absolutely horrified when they got to their fifth suit and didn’t seem remotely close to stopping.

“What are you doing!? Ellie, white!? Seriously? Every stain will show on it. Fin, what is this pink nonsense?”

“It’s a cravat,” Finella replied, feigning innocence.

“A cravat!? No cravats, no bow ties – just a normal tie! Madam,” I turned to one of the sales assistants, “please put all this back and call a man. Someone who doesn’t wear this nonsense!” I gestured at the cravat for emphasis.

“One moment, sir.”

“Well, that’s just great. You’ve gone and ruined the mood,” Finella pouted.

Nevertheless, I’d made the right decision. The gray-haired manager turned out to be an experienced man; he understood what I needed with barely a word and quickly picked out a blue suit with a subtle black sheen, a striped gray vest, and a purple tie. He also insisted I get a dark gray fedora and polished black shoes with mirror-like toes. Even the girls were impressed, and the whole ensemble only cost 42 pounds.

I fought back a tear for my dwindling inheritance, added five pounds as a tip for the manager's understanding, and didn’t regret it. Unexpectedly, I learned the shop’s tailor could adjust the suit to fit perfectly, which cost me an extra three pounds.

I would’ve loved to buy the girls some gifts, but after blowing the equivalent of ten to twenty weeks’ wages for an average laborer, I simply couldn’t part with another penny.

Still, the girls had plenty of fun and didn’t seem offended. Besides, they had Finella’s outfit planning to look forward to, for which I entrusted the entire Wilcox house to their whims. Meanwhile, I grabbed my satchel with the box and headed for Harry’s. Naturally, no one stopped me from entering.

The first thing I noticed was the clean, damp floor in the foyer. Knuckles had managed to get the job done.

“Harry!” I called out.

“Stop yelling,” came his reply from behind a closed door, where he was busy working his magic. “I’ll be out in a moment.”

The noise summoned Knuckles. My appearance clearly made an impression – he even straightened up like a proper servant – but it didn’t last long. His words ruined the effect.

“Holy shit, what’s this getup? I mean, uh… What a fine outfit, sir.”

“Don’t clown around,” I said. “Looks like you managed to clean up.”

“Just one room,” Sparrow complained. “And I’m beat, like I’ve been unloading freight all night.”

“One step at a time. Let’s head to the kitchen.”

The kitchen was still filthy, so the cleaned dishes sparkled all the more against the grimy background. We had just managed to brew some chamomile tea by the time Harry appeared. Once again, I’d forgotten to buy proper tea.

“What’s with the fancy getup?” the wizard asked instead of saying hello.

“I’m heading to The Golden Tear tonight.”

“What the hell is that?”

“A club for the rich and powerful. According to one vicar, it’s a real den of sin.”

“I’m not your guy for sleazy places.”

“That’s not why I’m here. I met with Augustus Fairburn today. He says he wants to make peace.”

“I’m not that crazy,” Harry snorted. “Trusting that snake would be a death sentence.”

“You’re not wrong. Look at this.” I pulled out my notebook, flipped to the formulas, and handed it to Harry. “He wanted to give you a gift.”

“Th-this…” Harry muttered nervously. “Judging by the fact that we’re still alive, you had enough sense to leave that thing somewhere else.”

“I sent it to the police with a note. I only brought the box with the ‘trace’ rune.”

“Get it here! Now!” Harry barked.

Startled, I quickly opened my satchel and tossed him the box, which immediately floated in midair, held by Harry’s telekinesis. After a few tense minutes, he threw it into the fireplace and sighed with relief.

“That was reckless,” he said.

“I examined it. Used my ointment.”

“Your ointment’s crap. If someone really tries, they can carve runes so subtle, you’ll never notice. Consider yourself lucky this time, but don’t bring me any more of that garbage.”

“I just wanted to make him nervous.”

“That’s not always a good thing,” Harry said. “A cornered rat will attack the cat. I’d know – I’ve been in that role. But anyway… thanks. Thanks for not selling out. He must’ve promised you the world.”

“Nah, he’s a cheapskate. Only gave me 300 pounds.”

Knuckles, who had been quietly sipping tea in the corner, choked.

“Get used to it,” Harry said. “You’ll get offers too.”

“Speaking of money,” I said to the wizard. “Do you have any amulets for sale? I can’t bring a bag of potions into the club – I’ll need replacements. And we need to do something about this mark. I don’t want to attract attention. That place is going to be crawling with predators. Grandpa and I made a small amulet once, but it doesn’t last long.”

“Show me,” Harry said.

I did as he asked, explaining the principle and jotting down the formulas. After examining it, the wizard dismissed the token as “clumsy work.” We’d spent months on that thing!

“I’ve got a few blanks lying around, and I can whip something else up quickly. But let’s start with the combat stuff. I take it you’re mostly worried about vampires?”

I nodded.

“Vampires... Stealthy, treacherous, stabbing you in the back. Let’s take a look… You’ll be useful too,” Harry added, pointing at Knuckles. “Grab the carbine you brought in yesterday.”

The carbine in question had been used to shoot... at me. Harry was teaching me how to use the new cufflinks and the ring. A perfectly normal practice, though Knuckles was only aiming at my legs. Still, I took the precaution of removing my suit – living tissue is easier to mend than dead fabric.

The ring featured a perfect square of pyrite hidden within chrysoprase. The combination of metal and ether elements created an invisible, bulletproof wall in the air. This ring was leagues ahead of the ones crafted by the clan masters, consuming energy far more efficiently. Unlike my Stone Skin ring, this one wasn’t limited to a single charge. After taking five shots from the Enfield, it had only drained about ten percent of its charge. However, that was when Knuckles was firing at an angle. Shots fired head-on drained energy faster, so Harry recommended always keeping the wall tilted. He had thoughtfully designed it to be easily repositioned with a simple flick of the fingers and a touch of willpower.

“Now for the cufflinks,” Harry said. “They’re tri-elemental: ether, blood, earth. They work autonomously and activate half a meter from your body. The closer they are, the less energy they use. Fully drained, they’ll last about three days. Think you can figure out the settings?”

I took the hexagonal cufflinks in my hand. Each contained three tiny triangular energy cores: nephrite for ether, onyx for earth, and aquamarine for blood.

“Blood,” I sighed. “You’ve tied everything to blood. How kind of you…”

I held out my index finger to him. Harry smirked and lightly dragged his knotted finger across my fingertip, leaving a shallow cut that welled up with blood. I pressed a bloody fingerprint onto the stones. The blood immediately disappeared from the nephrite and aquamarine but stubbornly clung to the onyx, which I had to wipe clean.

I felt an invisible connection form between me and the cufflinks, like a second wind I could always tap into.

“They’ll soften the first hit, but it’s better if you draw the blood manually to avoid overdraining. Ready?” Harry asked.

“Go ahead,” I confirmed.

Harry struck like a cat pawing at its prey, slicing my leg with his nails and his favorite telekinetic trick, leaving four curved, deep gashes. The power of blood surged through my body, rushing to my leg and filling the wounds. The cuts began to close slowly, but as soon as I focused, I seized control of the flow, directing it to a single wound, which healed almost instantly, leaving behind a pink scar.

“Shut it off!” Harry commanded. “You’ve already got too much raw energy in your body!”

He was right. The power was flooding my body blindly, pooling around the wounds. It took me a moment to locate the invisible “valve” to stop the flow. Keeping it shut while healing myself with the residual energy proved tricky. The energy dissipated quickly, and I didn’t have enough left to close the last cut.

“Poor control,” Harry commented as he closed the remaining wound with a wave of his hand. “Absolutely terrible. Let’s see how you handle rune burning.”

The wizard didn’t let me into the room where he worked his magic, but the earth energy pulsing through the door was enough. I instinctively delved into my inner world, found the charred rune in my seal, and began pouring energy into it.

“Typical shifter technique,” Harry said. “Kid, you’re not charging an energy node that you pump until it’s about to burst. Don’t dump a flow onto the rune – force it to absorb. Watch.”

His will crashed into my inner world like a battering ram. With just a touch, the earth-colored rune flared so brightly it made me nauseous.

“This won’t speed up the seal’s destruction,” Harry continued, “but it will cut down the time you spend on practice. And it’ll help you use amulets more efficiently.”

“Damn it, Harry, I’ve got a hornet’s nest to stir up soon, and I’m barely standing as it is.”

“Go lie down. I’ll cast a few spells on you, and you’ll be back to normal in no time. In the meantime, I’ll recharge your amulets and come up with something for the mark.”