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Thadus discovered a gate back into the Lower City with barely any difficulty, demanding that the spirits of the land and wind guide him out of the exceedingly lavish yet obscene stables called the Upper City. This time he found himself at the main street of what he presumed was a residential district. It was a far cry from the lofty Upper City; the houses were small and huddled together, the streets narrow, but neither as crowded as the market or artisan districts, nor empty such as he found the Upper City streets. Those moving about here lacked the same bright colours as the preposterous, supposedly-elevated ones he had barely seen a glimpse of, and instead they wore various natural or thoroughly muted shades. Colours that looked dirty, rather than refined and graceful.

Further down the street, a few children were playing, some very small, and others a little older. The youngest waddled after the older children, who ran away. The elder children with deliberate slowness, the younger ones genuinely trying to get away. While their garments differed, the scene was familiar nonetheless. Thadus himself had spent his first years waddling at the open squares and in gardens, playing similar games as a little one.

That was, naturally many days ago by now. Many years, even decades, have passed since the time before he began his studies in Eden.

The littlest child grabbed the skirts of a girl and laughed. A mischievous wind spirit joined in and rustled the children’s clothes. A man with a cart, dirty face and sweat-drenched clothes shouted at them, making them move so the man could pass through the street had far little room and much too many mortals.

As the man approached him, the spellcaster moved to the side to avoid him. He didn’t want the man to brush any unknown substances that would lure vermin over. There were more than enough of them around him already. He raised his sleeve to his nose and made the wind blow the smell away from him.

Did these people never even bathe? What was wrong with them? 

He felt something tug on his coat and he looked behind him just in time to see a child sneak past him. There were dirty paw prints on his coat.

“…”

He immediately brushed it away and looked at the boy who had run to join the others in their chase games. Had these children never learnt any form of etiquette? What sort of education would not even provide the most basic studies of etiquette??

If these mortals did not teach their offspring the basics of human socialising, then he ought to. There had to be a consequence so this thing could learn to apologise properly. If he could not even apologise, or better beg for forgiveness, to a spellcaster, how would this filthy spawn manage properly?

Quiet steps approached him from behind. A woman walked past from the bakery ahead.

Thadus eyes were trained on the boy as he played with other children. He started considering which spell would be most useful, which spell would teach this child a lesson, so as to ensure he was never disrespected this way again.

Earth was useless to teach children these matters. They stumbled all on their own frequently. The winds tended to enjoy play, so they were unreliable. If water sprites were lacking, he was left with just one more option… He might have to make a deal with the winds after all.

“What a vicious look this sir is offering children at play,” a voice said in gentle contemplation.

Thadus had been reaching for his sceptre and paused.

“If you plan on duelling them, Sir Caster, may I plead to take their place and offer my victory as theirs?”

He looked to his side and saw the hooded alleged thievery-victim study the children ahead, hands held behind their back. “Are you following me?”

“Sir, Caster, I could ask the same thing.” They looked up at him. The fiend offered Thadus a slight bow. “How unfortunate we meet again, no?”

“Unfortunate, yes,” Thadus agreed.

But as unfortunate as it may have been, this fiend was the most capable being he had met all day.

“If you’re not following me, what are you doing? Were you not supposed to catch a displacer of belongings or two?”

“I am still, yes. I just happened to see you as I left the pawnshop over there, in that alley.” The fiend pointed behind them. “I haven’t found my token yet and because of Sir Caster, I lost the trail. I just have to keep going from one shop to another to see if I find someone foolish enough to attempt to sell my traveller’s token.”

“…I have done nothing to assist those you pursue.”

“Mayhap not, but is it any different from aiding them when you actively stop me in my activities?” the fiend paused and turned to the children. “Though this encounter I shall take responsibility for. The moment Dart started trembling, I knew I had to see what was happening. Dart is very easily intimidated, after all, so surely it was nothing important.”

“I was of no importance indeed,” he replied. “Children, mortal or spellcaster, merely need to learn respect.”

“Hmm? It is no fault to play in the streets. I used to do this as a child. I also played atop roofs, though. That I got frequently scolded for by Lord Sage, a tutor.”

“Play is fine. All children need not take on the responsibilities of adults. Respect is important, however. Apologies too.”

“Ah,” the fiend voiced and nodded. “Which one disrespected Sir Caster? Did they trip over your foot? Brush against your coat?”

“…”

Thadus looked where the coat had been tugged, the dirt gone.

“Oh. It was like this,” the fiend said. “Which one was it?”

The spellcaster remained quiet.

The fiend raised his hand and waved at the children to gather. “Children, come here. This one here, my lowly self, has something to tell you! If you don’t hurry up, you got to pay a fee of five copper to pass me when you go home!”

The children paused before a few of them came over. Thadus ignored them, eyes falling on a boy who was talking to a couple of others. When they looked like they were about to sneak away, the wind tugged at a beds sheet, falling off a clothesline from the alley next to those boys. It fell onto the boys.

The fiend looked up to see the three boys tumble onto the road in a heap. Thadus could see the look they gave him from the corner of his eye. He simply put his hands behind his back.

This was not on him.

“You boys too,” the fiend said once the boys untangled themselves from the fabric. “Especially you three,” they said. “Hurry now, before I make it five silver for you three alone!”

The three boys came over too, one of them awkwardly carrying the sheet.

“Children,” the fiend said, “Although chase can make one unable to see where one goes, one cannot forget to keep everyone around oneself in mind. Your parents all work hard, and they wouldn’t be too happy if your own carelessness caused you to come in harm’s way.”

Thadus gave the fiend a look. They had squatted so they were at the same eye height as the youngest child. They pulled back their hood slightly so the mortal spawns could better see their face and smiled at them warmly.

“This lord here is a spellcaster. Make sure to always call a spellcaster Sir Spellcaster or Lord Spellcaster. This is very important.” They pat the youngest ones on the head. “Lord Spellcaster will not be angered if you just call him Sir Caster if it’s difficult to say spellcaster.”

“Shew kyast,” the little one said.

“Excellent. That was perfectly said, child.”

No, it sure was not perfect. It was far from perfect. It was nearly as imperfect as it could be.

But Thadus just huffed. He couldn’t be angered by poor pronunciation in such a young child.

“Why are you telling us this,” a girl asked. “We don’t need to know this.”

“Spellcasters are powerful. More so than any of your nobles,” Thadus said in an even tone. “Slight the wrong one and they will harm you in worse ways than any of your puny noblemen could.”

“What this lord here is saying is that when you bump into a spellcaster, you should always apologise. If you dirty their coats or robes with your grabby hands, they will bring upon your whole family their ire.”

That was certainly an egregious overstatement… most of the time. Not all spellcasters were as magnanimous as Thadus himself. He was of an especially benevolent disposition.

The children all hid their hands behind their backs. The sheet fell to the ground.

“The one who bumped into this lord needs to apologise,” the fiend said gently.

What followed were several, “I didn’t!”

Only one exclaimed, “It wasn’t me! I didn’t walk by him!”

Thadus looked at the boy, who fell quiet, then shifted his gaze by one. The mortal had pressed his lips together.

“Ah, well, if no one dares to admit their fault, I can’t help plead for mercy,” the fiend said and stood up at full height. “Well then, I’m done here. Hurry along, children.”

They waved the children away while turning to Thadus, saying, “Do what you must, my lord. It seems you have no other choice than to bring upon the liar your ire.”

Thadus glared at the person looking up at him, looking all righteous.

This little fiend, this demon. What were they trying to achieve? Make him a villain? Scare the demon-child with dirty hands? Give him yet another amercement? He wanted to certainly believe it was—

“I didn’t lie!” a voice cut through.

“So it was you!” the fiend said, and the demon boy seemed to have understood he had been tricked. He turned to run away, but the fiend had already pulled out their pipe, spun it and made it into a wooden staff. They caught the liar before he was out of reach and then hauled him over their shoulder like the child weighed nothing.

Thadus knew not how to react to this display.

“That’s it, children. Go back to play. I’ll bring him back after an important lesson about lying at the wrong times.”

Thadus watched the fiend walk away with the child, while the remaining children looked ip at the spellcaster. He turned to them and somewhat helplessly said, “I did not ask that person to do anything.”

The one who seemed to be the oldest said, “We know, Lord Spellcaster. That person simply is that sort of character.”

“Infuriating? Insufferable?” Thadus asked.

The girl shook her head, before she said, “Unpredictable.”

Thadus sniffed before he waved the children away from him.

He already knew this much, naturally.

After the children returned to the games, the spellcaster… decided that he’d attempt to find a decent place to dine a final time. Aside from the scent of bread, there was little more, however, so he had little hope of finding anything worth noting.

He continued on his way along this district’s main street. He noted women in aprons put up blankets to soak the heat of the sun. He saw men with arms around each other, acting like public nuisances while loud and ugly. A woman came up to him and gave him an ingratiating smile, calling him “Your Lordship” to which had Thadus take multiple steps back from the odour of powder and cheap perfume. A man tried to wave him into a questionable shop but Thadus made the wind rip the hat away from his head.

Truly, this place was crude and for the most part it was all small residences that looked so cramped Thadus had to tell himself only one mortal could possibly live in each and one of those residences. How else could they also include their libraries and studies, the front reception for the surface acquaintances to host discussions, of the private reception for more intimate encounters? He could accept not having a few guest rooms, but the rest were necessities outside of the dining hall, the bedchamber, the kitchen and the handful of servants handling the matters that were beneath those of decent character. He had nearly walked the whole length of the main street and found no establishment that allowed for dining, only a couple of bakers, a butcher, and many a home.

“It seems I shall not find anything after all. How typical of mortals,” he muttered in exasperation.

“What are you seeking, Sir Caster?”

Thadus nearly jumped out of his skin and turned on his heel to find that the devil was walking behind him.

“And from which vermin’s nest did you come from?” he spat out.

“I have been here since three crossroads back,” the fiend said. He held up a small pouch. “It’s not much, Sir Caster, but this is compensation from the silversmith’s sister-in-law. She’s the mother of the boy who dirtied your coat. I hope you will see the value of this gesture, although the value of the compensation is nothing to a spellcaster such as Sir Caster.”

Thadus took the pouch and put it away. He would accept this compensation instead of teaching the boy a lesson. It was an acceptable conclusion. Barely so, but nonetheless acceptable.

“Is there anything this humble mortal can help Sir Caster with?” the fiend asked. “I may not be local to Rockforge, but I have spent several days here now. I know all one needs to know, from where to find the black market to where the grandiloquent city lord lives.”

Thadus turned to leave this vermin behind. There was no need to ask for help from a disturbance.

It was after walking several steps he came to think of it. He tried to ignore the thought, but he couldn’t contain the natural disposition of curiosity that lead every spellcaster to seek out the art of prolonging life.

“Your pipe.”

“You mean Dart?” They pulled out the copper pipe out of their boot and held it up. “We’re good friends.”

“Truly,” Thadus said, his voice void of tone. “Why do you call an enchanted copper pipe a dart?”

 “As I said, Dart is a dart.”

“You can’t convince me a pipe is a dart.”

The fiend chuckled softly, looking amused. “Dart is still easily intimidated. To be intimidating to others, it has chosen to take the form of a pipe. But in truth, it’s a dart. Why copper, I have no clue. But it’s short enough to fit in the boot and doesn’t look too intimidating at first, so it’s a perfect shape for it to be while I need it not, no?”

A dart… found a pipe intimidating? Who was this fool? Did they think Thadus had never seen an enchanted item before?

“…A pipe?”

“Is it not quite adorable? It also trembles when someone it considers a danger is nearby,” the fiend replied with a smile at the copper pipe.

Was this person a mad one, a lunatic? Thadus was not quite certain he couldn’t rule out the possibility.

“It is not adorable. It’s a peculiar preference, mortal.”

“It is indeed a curious one, Sir Caster. But what can I do when it’s like this?”

Turn it into something else! the spellcaster told them internally.

“Mortals are certainly lacking in ability,” was all he said instead.

“This can be claimed true regarding spellcasters too,” the fiend said casually. “Many never reach Sir Caster’s capabilities, from what I have heard.”

“Learning is an infinite activity. One will always be able to learn more,” Thadus argued.

“And yet, many choose not to take upon themselves the path of eternal study. There are many reasons why — they may not align with the sprites, they might not find the ways best suited for them, they might be stuck in a school of casting that they disagree with. Some simply see it as enough to go about life as it is.”

Thadus glanced at the fiend from the corner of his eye.

They then explained, “Lord Sage told me this once when I was a child. I have no memory of why Lord Sage found this so important, although I believe it was a reminder that no individual is the same and their reasons for where they go in life will be entirely dependent on their own circumstances.”

Thadus sniffed. “There is no reason for me to listen to the teaching of a someone else’s dying tutor. What wisdom could a mortal even hold if he called himself a sage?”

“Lord Sage’s age… Indeed, one certainly can admit it was no youth that taught me these things. Lord Sage was up in age already once I was born,” the fiend agreed. “However, Sage was his name. He had a brother, too, named Basil. They were both named after herbs.”

Thadus had nothing to say.

“Lord Sage was no local to my hometown,” the fiend continued. “But the Lord had served my family for many years by the time I was born. I am of the belief my great-grandmother met him and requested his assistance. Or was it, perchance, my great-great-grandfather who asked for his services as the tutor for his eldest daughter? I can’t quite remember. Nonetheless, Lord Sage served as the tutor of every generation for at least three of them — myself and two generations before.”

That must have been quite a long-lived man. One could almost believe him a spellcaster of lower average ability, though it could just as well be a long-lived mortal, of course. Mortals surely survived until a mere age of a hundred or so now and then. A spellcaster would never serve a mortal. That would be scandalous.

“Now, would Sir Caster accept my aid, if Sir Caster could return the favour?”

Thadus just gave the fiend a glance. They looked back at him with their mosaic eyes from beneath the hood.

“If I lead yo to where you desire to go, would you assist me in retrieving my token? The pawn shops likely would not take it, as selling such a token is quite illegal and immoral and the silversmith in this district that I have acquainted myself with certainly need not touch it either.”

Thadus looked the lunatic up and down. In the end, lunatic or not, this fiend was still the most capable one he’s met all day.

Besides, he could lower himself enough to such a trade. It was not entirely beneath his dignity. He wasn’t asking for help. He was taking compensation for offering some minimal effort regarding some useless trinket.

And he was terribly hungry.

“Fine.”

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Author’s Note

Dart! The pipe! My precious!