Grynne awoke with a start. He lay draped over a worn out, lumpy armchair that dwelled in the back room of his office. Afternoon sunlight poured into the room in wild ribbons from behind a tattered shade. His head was pounding and he recoiled, grimacing as a band of bright light fell over his eyes. He had no recollection of how much wine he had the night prior, but he definitely had not thought it had been that much. He was usually a better drunk than that.

He groaned as he stood up and staggered into the main room of his office. He wiped some dried spittle from his lower lip and began rummaging through the drawers of his desk. He finally found what he was looking for and extracted a leaf from the worn package. The leaf was simple and small, the shape of a spearhead, but had blue and red veins running on its underside. The ayurvedic had suggested he crumple it into a wad and chew on it to relieve pain of the body and mind. Pylla leaf, he thought, a man’s best friend.

Grynne had just slumped down into his desk chair when he heard a delicate knock on the door. Without waiting for a response, a small hooded figure stepped inside. Grynne’s left hand instinctively went for the long, curved blade he wore at his side.

“Please,” he growled, “let yourself in.”

The figure laughed demurely and drew back the hood obscuring her face. A cascade of bright, blonde hair fell about her shoulders, framing her heart shaped face. Violet eyes stared at him and a playful smirk twitched at the corner of full, pouty lips. She looked familiar to him, though he could not put his finger on it.

“Well you’ve definitely seen better days, have you not Mr. Archimaedes?”

Grynne reflected on how he must look at the moment and half-heartedly pushed a hand through a tangled mass of unruly, black hair.

“Better?”

She smiled briefly and sat across the desk from him.

He narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, wagging a finger at her in thought. “Don’t I know you from somewhere?”

“Well I should surely hope so Mr. Archimaedes. Aside from our similarly privileged bloodlines I had the pleasure of formally making your acquaintance last night. It was then that we had agreed to meet here at approximately this time.”

A foggy memory came slogging back to him from the night prior. Though lacking much in terms of specifics, he did vaguely remember a mysterious hooded woman, a jug of wine vanishing oddly quickly, and a mess of words that might have resembled a job offer. He supposed a part of him had not thought she was being serious, and a much more lewd part of him had hoped that the job would take place in his bed.

Grynne cocked his head to the side. “Are you sure I didn’t mean for you to meet me here last night? Seems more like the kind of thing I would’ve said.”

A dangerous look crossed her face and left again as soon as it had appeared. She forced a practiced smile and dropped a purse of coins on the table. “I believe this was the amount we agreed upon.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Darlin’ I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to be doing or who it is I’m supposed to be working for.”

The woman pointed a finger at him. “You’re going to find me a missing girl. I am Eleysia Purie Monsante the third, your new employer.”

Grynne struggled to hide his surprise. She was a daughter of one of the Five Families. That was why she had looked so familiar to him. He supposed he had probably seen her around when he was younger but had never been properly introduced. Proper had never really been his strong suit.

“Ah right, thus the hood and cloak business. Can’t interact too much with us common folk, eh? So why do you need me to find this girl? I’d figure with money like yours you could afford a whole crew of upper crust swords for hire. Consulting with one of the Fallen such as myself seems…beneath you.”

He cringed after he had spoken. Referring to his loss of status was something he usually made mention of so casually. He was not, however, in his best state of mind. He reached for his pipe and fed pinches of tobacco into it as he waited for her reply. He conjured a small lick of flame from the tip of his finger and took a few puffs, exhaling a thin plume of smoke towards the ceiling. Eleysia shifted uncomfortably and drew herself up higher in her chair. She looked regal even in her worn, dun, commoner’s traveling cloak.

 Grynne noticed her discomfort and smirked, “Don’t worry princess, it’s not contagious.”

 The Natural Arts had been absent in contemporary magic for generations. People often consider those who used it cursed, and those who encouraged its use worshippers of evil. Natural disasters and illness were blamed on the use of the Natural Arts during the Kabalic Reformation, and those who practiced their use were near universally hunted down and executed or had their hands amputated to prevent their use of magic. In recent years, it was still not unheard of for practitioners to be exiled, banished, or burned for witchcraft, though a seldom few exhibited any proficiency in its use. Grynne had no strong Attunement to it, but for a cute party trick for lighting tobacco.

“It is precisely for that reason…your status…that I have come to you. You understand how the other half lives, and no longer have anything to lose. Additionally, I know of your training and your reputation. I believe you to possess the skills that I need in this venture.”

“Yeah? Well that life was a long time ago for me sister. And nothing to lose you say?” he gestured about him and smirked, “I’m living the good life.”

It had not, in fact, been that long. Grynne was still a fairly young man, only twenty nine seasons had passed since his birth. But his life with the rich and powerful had felt like a lifetime ago. Fifteen years had gone by since the mistake that cost him everything. He had lost his friends, most of his family, his status, his career, his…

Eleysia cleared her throat. “I believe if you look inside you’ll see that this job will be more than worth your time.”

Grynne hooked a finger on the corner of the bag and peered inside. Its contents were a pile of gold coins with the royal insignia of Alabast printed on one side, a winged lion overlaying a curved sword imprinted on the other. Looked to be about five hundred in Alabastian gold, a small fortune.

“And who exactly have you lost?” Grynne continued, “The Queen? I’m sure she’s still comfortable on that gaudy old throne of hers.”

Eleysia’s eyes narrowed as she replied. “Her niece.”

Grynne could not help but laugh, the pipe practically falling out of his mouth. “The Kabals be damned woman which one? She’s got about fifty last I checked. Royal family’s a bit of a productive bunch seems to me.”

The whites of Eleysia’s eyes turned black and the room began to shake. Grynne could swear that her hair had begun to lift of its own accord. He felt as if an icy grip had taken him by the neck, making his breath labored and sparse. Yet, as his hands flew to his neck for relief, they felt nothing.

Eleysia’s voice boomed in the small room, coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. “I will not have you speak of the royal family in this way in my presence. Are we clear?”

Grynne let the fear drain from his face as he recognized what was happening, “Crystal,” he replied in a confident voice, “But you should know your illusions aren’t quite enough to pull the wool over my eyes.”

All at once the room settled. Her hair was draped serenely about her shoulders once more and the icy grip on his neck vanished. His pipe had fallen onto his desk so he picked it back up and relit it with a snap of his fingers.

He cocked an eyebrow at Eleysia as he puffed on the stem. “As I’m sure you already know you aren’t the only one in this room trained in one of the Five Kabals. I don’t take very kindly to being subjected to your tricks in my own office.”

Although he maintained a dangerous edge to his voice, he found that he admired her gumption. He had his fair share of being fucked with by the brats of the royal family, but the Five Families were a different matter. They tip-toed around and passive-aggressively jabbed at each other in attempts to curry favor with the Queen. Each family seemed to hope by doing so that her successor may end up married to a member of their family or end up succeeding to the trone themselves. This kind of direct aggression out of one of them was a breath of fresh air. Apparently those trained in the Kabal of Laen were a feistier bunch.

Eleysia’s posture slackened and her cheeks blushed slightly. She wrung her hands together, seemingly at a loss for words. Nobility were never too keen on admitting fault.

She looked up at him, desperately and sighed. “I’m sorry it’s just that…this whole incident has caused quite the uproar in my family. Things are a bit…chaotic…at the moment. This particular niece is very special to the Queen and has become equally so to us while she has lived with us.”

“She’s one of the nieces the Queen sends to live with the Five Families? That really is a big pile of shit y’all have wandered into.”

“So you can see that there’s a need for discretion in this matter. No one can know what you’re doing and why.”

“You’re acting like I’ve signed on.”

He said this knowing full well he already had. Part of it was the damsel in distress card that she played with ease and comfort. Another was that having dirt on one of the Families would offer him a certain amount of leeway in this town, and he needed as much of that as he could get. Something else was happening to him too, that he could not quite understand. He felt somehow drawn towards this case, and towards her, the second she walked through the door. Must be the gorgeous dame look, he mused.

She looked at him pleadingly, eyes slowly starting to tear.

“Which cousin is it?” he said.

“Khyael. Of the Tines.”

He nodded. “Tell me what I need to know.”

Next Chapter: Chatper 2