Thadus felt his mood sour at the criticism. He was immaculate! Always!

The devil turned to the array, facing it, but the hood obscured their eyes. They tilted their head to the side as if listening to something, but then straightened their head.

The wind swept by and circled in the crossing of alleys, making Thadus’ coat flutter; the mortal’s sash got tugged, and they once again raised their hand to keep the hood on, apparently without conscious thought.

Thadus wanted the wind to just pull it off—

The wind increased and began tugging at Linden’s hood. When the winds couldn’t disrupt the mortal, the wind sprite began circling them before it pulled at it directly, causing Linden to lose the grip of the fabric and the hood fell back.

They turned their gaze up, while touching their hair, earrings catching light from the array.

“Hm?” they noised in evident confusion.

Thadus huffed and looked down an empty alley. The wind spirit undoubtedly did not like the devil—

“The winds are truly capricious today. Do you not think so too, Lord Thadus?” he heard them say softly. “Are you deliberately making life hard or just playing games? It is impossible for a mortal to tell what your intention is. I pray for good weather and helpful winds, so please spare me a little.”

“Why are you speaking to the wind?” Thadus had to ask as he glanced back at the little fiend. It made no sense that a mortal would speak to the spirits.

Linden sat there and let the gentle breeze rustle their hair, doing no attempts to pull their hood up. The expression they wore was serene, perhaps a bit nostalgic. They turned to Thadus, offering a smile.

“Lord Sage once told me, when I was rather young, that all that exists in nature has a spirit of its own, from the brilliant human to the hard-working mice, from fragrant flowers to mighty mountains. With such a belief offered to me in my formative years, how could I not believe that the wind, too, has its own spirit?”

“Not everything has spirits; only the elements do.”

“Lord Thadus is free to believe whatever offers him the greatest amount of comfort.”

This frustrated Thadus. He expressed truth, not belief. This was the truth that spellcasters had confirmed a long time ago!

“And you are free to believe claims from those who have lesser knowledge.”

“Lord Thadus is indeed correct. I am free to believe lesser knowledge if what is considered superior knowledge does not explain my experiences with the world around me.”

Thadus clenched his fist. “You…”

They bowed their head. “I have been impolite. I thought Lord Thadus was willing to partake in a peaceful, intellectual discussion, as spellcasters are wont to often do. I am to blame for this indiscretion.”

Thadus swallowed his anger before he spat out, “Spellcasters begin any discussion with a ritual.”

“And what may that be?” Linden asked.

The spellcaster remained silent. He refused to speak, in fact.

“You seek an answer to a question that cannot be easily answered,” Linden answered themselves. “So when you ask a mortal why they speak to the wind, it is a question that cannot be easily answered. Every mortal has their own reasons to do such. You asked, and I answered. That is the ritual.”

Why did this mortal know so much about spellcasters? Locations, habits, and even names?

Thadus could not understand this. It made little sense to him.

“Why do you know this?” he demanded. “All of this.” He motioned to the glowing array. “How do you know that? Who taught you? Why are you a mortal? Where is your apprenticeship?”

The devil hummed softly.

“Why I would know many things is difficult to answer, Lord Thadus. I do not say this as a way to avoid to answer, but rather to clarify that the explanation is not an easy one to understand or to listen to. But I am mortal.”

They tilted their head, being quiet, closing their eyes for a long while. Thadus decided to leave. Debt or no debt, this—

“Mortality is deeply human. This I have been taught.”

“Casting is deeply human too,” Thadus argued despite himself.

“It is. So is fear of death,” Linden agreed amicably. “However, spellcaster communes with nature. You speak with spirits and they respond to you. You nurture the land and dance with the winds in ways only you are able to. I can release an arrow, but I cannot release a gust. You may grow sustenance for a deer, while I shall hunt it. I am deeply mortal. I do not hear the whispers of seas and giggles of the wind. I see bodies of water to fish in and winds to dry my clothes, liquid that can drown me, and storms that ruin my home.”

Linden pulled out their long braid, that had been hidden within their collar, before they jumped off of the barrel and approached Thadus.

“You asking me why I am a mortal does not differ from me asking about why you are a spellcaster. You went through apprenticeship, Lord Thadus; you command and commune with nature itself. The spirits that I cannot perceive, you sense and have always sensed.”

They stopped before him, tilting their head back slightly. With their back facing the glowing array, their face was completely in shadow.

Thadus looked down upon them, tried to study their expression.

“I am merely mortal, because I cannot do what you can. I cannot tell a spirit from the breeze. To me, Lord Thadus, they are all the same.”

“You are, without doubt, merely defining mortals. However, that is not answering my question,” Thadus said, feeling his patience drain. “What about this? This! It is not mortal knowledge. Who taught you?!”

He once more motioned to the array.

They looked back and shrugged. “That? No one taught me. I learnt it by myself through trial and error. It is extremely situational. It can only be used to reveal dust.”

“But why would you want some dust? It’s everywhere in this filthy city! Can you not simply pick it up from any street?”

“No, not just any dust. Its name is Dust.”

First Dart and now Dust? Thadus must have turned mad from being around mortals all day. That is what this was. insanity.

It could not be explained any other way.

“That…” Linden fell silent before they continued, “…scribble is to reveal Dust. That is all it is.”

The wind spirit tugged at Thadus’ hair.

“I am retiring for today. I am not remaining here any longer. This is lunacy.”

“Lord Thadus still owes me.”

“So be it! I have had enough! Enough of you, enough of your games, enough of trickstery. I am a spellcaster. I need not even remember this day.”

Linden was quiet. Then they softly asked, “Will you find your way out, Lord Thadus?”

“Yes!”

Linden nodded. “Then you may leave, Lord Thadus. If you return, would you mind going past the night market down at the Western Road and buy me a skewer?”

Thadus wanted to be further angered. He couldn’t. He was instead simply tired. “Why?”

“I am beginning to feel a bit peckish.”

The spellcaster summoned a small flame into his palm and strode off, the wind spirit showing him the way back.

Thadus watched as the not-thief — the devil named Linden — played with a stray cat in the opening of an alley. They had yet to leave the Northern Market district and instead the not-thief had idly spent time as the sun slowly set, hood covering as much as possible; fiery hair covered, earrings hidden and eyes shadowed.

As he stood there, a horse-drawn carriage approached. He raised his hand to his face as he looked at the indigo sash trailing on the ground. He sniffed and kicked it aside, so it wouldn’t get trampled by the filthy beasts these supposedly elevated mortals, for some inexplicable reason, insisted on using within their cities.

Even spellcasters had beasts of burden to assist the agricultural casters, or for those who inexplicably were fond of riding, but no one would have the mind to make the streets uninhabitable by keeping them within the settlements.

The fiend looked up at him, glanced at their sash, and then turned to the carriage.

“Ah. True. They don’t use palanquins in Rockforge. I forgot. I spent most of my time in Rockforge in the alleyways. They can’t fit carriages, and no one in the Lower City would try to lead horses and oxen through them.” They watched the carriage, still playing with the cat, then turned back, adding, “And the roofs only have bird droppings and moss.”

Thadus would have asked why the mortal would know this, but he had already seen them travel across wall ledges and on top of roofs, so he hardly needed to ask to have his answer.

“After several days, I suppose I got used to the rancid odour,” they said almost helplessly.

They reached into their collar and took something out, sniffed it, and held it toward Thadus. “A perfume pouch. It contains dried flowers, cedar tree shavings and a bit of fragrant incense ash. It should make things a little more bearable.”

Thadus gave it a suspicious look, but took it none the less. He rubbed his index finger and thumb against the fabric and smelled them.

It seemed to be truly made from wood and flowers. It wasn’t overwhelming.

The wind sprite snatched the pouch just as the carriage moved past.

Linden blinked in confusion as a gust of wind flung their perfume pouch on top of the carriage roof. Thadus couldn’t blame them.

“…”

“…I did not do that,” Thadus said, indignant when the mortal looked at him.

“So Lord Thadus is telling me the perfume pouch simply leapt away from him on its own?” they asked as they stood up. They brushed off unseen dust from the trousers, then looked at the back of the carriage. “So be it, but I’m not letting go of any more possessions today.”

They took a few measures steps forward, the back before they ran after the carriage jumped up to grab the ed of its roof, flipped up, grabbed their pouch and jumped onto the roof of the nearest house lining the street. They then crouched to be as small as possible up there as the carriage stopped and someone stuck their head out of a curtained window.

“Who was that?! Who dares!”

Thadus took a few steps into the shadow of the alley, remaining relatively unseen. The wind spirit tossed gusts as the carriage.

“Your Lordship, there is no one here,” came a second voice from the carriage. The coach looked around, and even if it’s possible Thadus was seen, the coach continued on their way after a moment.

The not-thief crouched along the roof until they were back at the alley and quietly got off the small house.

“Here you go,” they said as they held the pouch toward the spellcaster once more. “Please, do not let it jump out of your hand once more.”

Thadus quietly put the pouch into his coat, chastising the wind spirit for its mischief.

He had told it to wait! Why was this foolish thing not going elsewhere? He wasn’t familiar with this spirit!

“We ought to withdraw from this alley,” Linden said as they bended down to pet the cat. “The guards will probably appear soon. That was the Madam Minister’s carriage, so any disturbance, however small, will be looked into. It also appeared a foreign nobleman was with her, so it might have been a family member from an allied state.”

They moved into the deeper darkness of the alley. Thadus followed.

“Why do you need to walk through the allies?” he asked.

“I am avoiding the guards, Lord Thadus. It is in my best interest not to make a scene.”

Before Thadus could say anything, they added, “And they are cleaner and less crowded.”

To that, Thadus could likely not claim untrue.

They walked for a while, Thadus feeling rather lost after many turns. Eventually the little devil stopped at a crossing of narrow, cobblestoned alleys which seemed especially dark.

They pulled out the enchanted pipe out of their boot and spun it, turning it into a wooden staff; this one different from when they tried to keep the crowd away in the Artisan Lane. It looked gnarly in form, but without adequate light, it was indeed difficult to see more of it.

“Lord Thadus may excuse my conduct,” they said as they measured up a circle of empty space with the gnarly staff.

They hummed before they began to drag the end of their staff on the cobblestone, turning in a full circle in place. Without lifting their staff from the ground, they pulled it closer and make a smaller circle around them. After this, keeping the staff touching the ground, they stepped out of the circle.

Thadus looked at it curiously. It reminded him much of some of the more advanced spells he had seen in Eden. Ritually, not lifting one’s pen was common in many older spells that performed more advanced actions.

Circles, especially, were used in large-scale performances or summoning. Magic tools, such as his own sceptre, could replace these older practices to some degrees solely because they were better at detail work and controlling spirits.

So, seeing this practice now, of someone not lifting their staff, yet dragging it as if drawing something with a sole line.

Linden began to move the end against the ground, between the two imaginary lines, seeming to almost write. The movements looked unfamiliar. The end still remained to the cobblestones stubbornly. As Thadus watched this with great curiosity, it began to vaguely glow in a cyan shade. The more the devil continued their “writing”, the stronger the glow.

Thadus paused, studying this phenomenon.

The calligraphed glyphs began to be clearer and Thadus considered deeply what this could be.

Some enchanted items would need an incantation or similar to unlock its full potential, and this Thadus had also seen, although only in part, as it was not commonly taught or practices. Incantations were much faster and often considered accurate.

After doing their writing, they began drawing shapes within the inner circle, and the staff began to glow in the same cyan light as the array.. The not-thief finally stopped moving the staff as their unbroken line finally had reached its end. They raised the end.

“It is I, your humble one. Each day, I serve you and nurture your spirit. Now I implore you to heed my request in turn — Dart, change appearance, turn to dust.”

They let go of the staff which stood upright in the centre by itself, and it turned, in fact, into… a dart.

It wasn’t a big dart, where it was, hovering above the array, perhaps the length of Thadus’ palm, and thin. It was made from wood and metal, with some thread around its body and feather fletching.

The thread around its body began to slowly unravel, hanging down from its body. The moment the thread touched the ground, a magenta flame engulfed the dart. As the flame died out, Linden reach out and caught the falling part. Its body was cracked and the moment it fell onto the mortal’s hand, the body fall apart, into two bigger and a few smaller pieces that could have been irrelevant in any other setting.

Linden closed the fist before opening it again, the dart in even more splinters and pieces. Each of them slowly, one by one, began turning into a magenta light that rose from the mortal’s hand, like glowing dust above their hand.

The circle turned first purple before it turned magenta as well, and the dart had fully disappeared.

No matter what… To Thadus, this looked akin to summoning with a sacrifice. He had only read about such a thing before. Spellcasters in Eden did not learn this craft, ever. It simply was not a craft that Paradise Tower had use for.

The not-thief studied the dust before they retrieved their hand.

“Dust, it is I, the horde master. I shall command, and you will follow. Be my eyes, be my ears, and seek my token that is lost.”

Thadus found this mortal quite silly. Who did not know that summons were prone to causing harm if one was not careful? Carelessness was the name of the person who tried to command a summoned spirit.

The glowing dust bounced.

…in excitement?

“Go now, dust; return when you find something.” Linden paused. “But not something that has nothing to do with my token. We need not complicate matters. And only in this district. If you go elsewhere, I might accidentally leave you behind.”

The dust began to travel in every direction along the alleys.

The not-thief turned to Thadus. Both of them were silent. Thadus had many questions he wanted answered, but he didn’t know which one to start with. He considered whether to ask the mortal where they learnt to summon, or why they gave their pipe as an offering.

They moved to sit on top of a barrel that they flipped over. They pulled up one knee to their chest, resting a boot on the barrel while the other leg was relaxed. They looked at Thadus, tilting their head, just studying him for a while in the glow of the array before them.

A wind blew through the alley, pulling at Linden’s sash and hood. They reach up to keep the hood covering their head.

“When you do not scowl, Lord Thadus, you are not quite so unpleasant to look at.”

— Search!

— Search!

— Street!

— Stone! Walls!

— Search!

— We search for Horde Master!

— Horde Master!

— Master!

— Search!

— Sleeping! Child!

— Silver coin!

— Wrong silver!

— Help Horde Master!

— We help!

— Gate! Not this way.

— Other way!

— Moving other directions.

— Music!

— Speech!

— Dark windows!

— Human!

— Tavern.

— Human.

— Human!

— Music.

— Share Rumours for Horde Master!

— Horde Master listens?

— Listens!

— Listen to humans.

— Found a coin!

— Leave behind!

— Tell Horde Master what is said.

— Street!

— Alley.

— Food!!

— Another tavern!

— Music!

— Bard!

— Listen!

— Listen, listen!

— Dirty shoes.

— Hole in pocket!

— Look in more pockets!

— Pockets!

— Walls!

— Boots.

— Drinks!

— So many boots.

— Search pockets.

— Search!

— Listen.

— Horse droppings!

— Copper coins!!

— Leave behind.

They arrived at the silversmith’s shop as the sun was beginning to set. The fiend knocked on the door and called out, “Smith, may I enter, or is it too late at night for business?”

After a few moments, the door opened. The woman standing in the opening towered over the other mortal, expression severe. It soured visibly when seeing the fiend, dressed in all dark and with their hood up. Thadus decided not to involve himself with this and opted to step away. He was not fond of these sorts of matters.

The fiend said, voice bright, “I look for a certain item, and someone told me it might be at your pawnshop. If it is an inconvenience, I shall take my leave.”

The woman turned to look at Thadus, who scowled right back at her. How dare she try to threaten him? Did she think she was impressive? She was a mortal! She should offer him respect, not glare. He wasn’t fearful of her mediocre smithing techniques, if that was what she thought. He could make the silver obey him if he wanted to.

“He with you?” she asked the fiend and motioned toward Thadus.

“Does that better my changes or lessen them to ask about my item? Whichever is more beneficial is my answer.”

“He’s not from around here,” the silversmith said.

Was that an accusation? How dare!! Who does she think she is? A spellcaster elder? Naturally, he was not from a mortal settlement! He was from Eden! Eden!!

“Neither am I,” the fiend replied, tone amicable.

They lowered the hood, their fiery hair shining bright in the same colour as the sunset. The silver in their earrings caught some of the light too and looked akin to shining gold.

“So, would you mind if I inquire about a few things, smith?”

The silversmith gave the fiend an extended silence, then looked at Thadus once more. Only after this did she step aside to let them in.

The fiend waved for Thadus to come along.

Thadus unfortunately had a debt to settle, so although he considered leaving at this very moment… He was a spellcaster! If he could not hold his end of any contract he himself made, then he was even lesser than a mortal. He could not allow his untarnished reputation be stained by this questionable encounter.

He would not allow it!

The mischievous wind spirit pulled at his clothes and tugged at his hair. He waved it away.

It had been following him around since he entered the vicinity of this city-state. It circled him, bringing the chill of night in its breeze.

I’ll entertain you later, sprite. Do not bring me unfortunate weather just because you have to wait. Impatient spirits ought to find better company than occupied people, he told it.

The lunatic tilted their head, a small smile lifting the corners of their mouth. Thadus humphed. He approached them. When he was a couple of steps away from the door, they chuckled softly and entered.

Thadus paused, eyebrows pulling together. He turned to the spirit which had moved to circle a lone tree, making the branches groan and leaves rustle. Apprehensive, he touched his hair and brushed away any potential dust and leaves from his coat, but he couldn’t find anything. He was still immaculate in his presentation, as he had ensured he was at all times.

He remained doubtful, but he couldn’t say of what, exactly. The mortal may have been questionably knowledgeable, but the spirits undoubtedly did not attempt to communicate with them, so they certainly weren’t able to perceive them.

He looked around once more, unable to notice anything out of the norm with the spirits. Only then did he enter the shop.

The shop was what one could expect of an establishment of this kind, he supposed. There were silver items on display behind a counter, and on top of the counter itself there were a lantern illuminating  the shop and a scale. Thadus was aware it was to determine the rate of silver in each item, and thus its value. He still found this rather outdated. Could they not learn a better system? It truly was unreliable.

The lunatic was looking through several items on display on a shelf, while the woman stood before the counter with her arms crossed in front of her.

“Is this a well-established pawnshop specialised in silver?” the fiend asked as they moved to look at another shelf.

“It is. We ordinarily only allow silver here. Occasionally gold, but it’s seldom.”

“What about gemstones?”

“We rather not. They can be difficult to evaluate without appropriate training.”

The fiend nodded, their gold and silver earrings moving at the action. “Do you make tokens here?”

“If you want to buy an identity, you’ve come to the wrong shop, stranger.”

“I sincerely apologise. I did not accuse you of such a transgression; you misunderstand,” the fiend responded calmly. “As a silversmith, do you make tokens for the wealthy houses?”

“Why are you asking if you’re not attempting to buy one?”

“Then, let me speak with clarity: would you recognise a silver rose token?”

The woman lowered her arms somewhat and looked the fiend up and down again. She walked to a door that opened up to nothing but a staircase. “Dearest wife! Have you seen any tokens with silver roses in the pawnshop as of recent?” she shouted up the stairs.

There was shuffling upstairs before quiet steps came from the stairs. A raised skirt and embroidered shoes was first to appear. Soon a young, delicate woman had arrived. She looked between Thadus and the fiend. Thadus turned to look at the fiend, too.

This was not his problem. She needed not try to assess him for this matter.

“Silver rose tokens,” she repeated, her voice soft, her demeanour much different from the cautious silversmith. She took in the fiend’s appearance, eyes lingering on their features, their earrings, and the sash of their attire. “We did not have any fools bring us any tokens. Who would dare bring something such as those to my humble shop?”

She stepped behind the counter and picked up a several inches thick leather-bound tome that looked as large as half her torso. It slammed onto the wooden counter as she put it down. She opened it up where it had been marked and flipped a couple of couple of pages back.

“However, we did have someone try to exchange numerous banking notes. While not all of them were, many of them had the stamp for the Silver Rose Confederation. It was quite a large sum, so it was quite unusual. They had silver markings, none of them a note for any gold. With the rumours of the disruption in the Confederation, I dared not to exchange such a sum into silver coins. We wouldn’t even have enough coins for such a sum; this is not a bank after all.”

The fiend hummed. “Was it one or two people?”

“Just one. The customer seemed not to be from that region, however. Not a native of Rockforge either, because I was asked about where to find a bank when I said I couldn’t exchange them, as if there would be such a thing in the Lower City.”

“Was the total sum, perchance, between six-hundred and, say, around a thousand silver?”

“It was, indeed,” the woman said.

“Well, then I have found a lead to my stolen money, but if they split it up between them, I might not get all of my travel funds back.” The not-thief looked thoughtful, as they added, “It happened down at the Main Market. Earlier today, prior to noon.”

The soft-spoken woman turned to the silversmith. “Have you heard of anything of the matter during the day? People talk when walking past the smithy.”

“I did hear there was an odd earthquake today,” the silversmith replied. “Just a small one. Most think it may have been related to the salt mines. The silver mine has had no disruptions.”

The fiend gave Thadus an accusatory look.

Thadus had done no wrong! He definitely couldn’t create earthquakes. He was a spellcaster! He was still only human! Humanity had limits on how much they could do! It must have been any of the mines!

“Oh, the old man down at the artisan lane cheating visitors out of their valuables did say there was another thief chase after a noble got robbed in that district, but they got away, apparently.”

Thadus had not got robbed! In fact, how could anyone even think they could rob him? Spellcasters would not stoop so low and there were no measly mortals that could best him. None at all.

“We need to have all these thieves hung soon. This can’t go on,” the soft-spoken woman said.

A solemn silence fell in the pawnshop.

Thadus still found it bewildering that they would hold such intense emotion toward thievery. Was it not just the loss of a few items or coins? They could be replaced. Life could not.

The fiend looked thoughtful before they broke the silence. “If someone else comes in with the remainder of the money, a sum that equals it all to a total of fifteen-hundred silver,” they said, “do feel free to keep it. Even if I don’t retrieve the entire sum, I plan on leaving before dawn arrives, as long as the lost token is retrieved, so there is little value for me here.”

“We can’t possibly accept that!” the silversmith exclaimed.

“Use it for charity if you don’t wish to keep it. Or drop it off at the dashing bearded maiden’s tavern. They could have good use for it, too. It’s a small loss for me, if it can help those here in Rockforge’s Lower City.”

“We truly can’t,” the silversmith reiterated.

“Then find any use for it. I am afraid I truly can’t stay in Rockforge any longer. I was already supposed to set out this morning after buying travelling rations, but then I had my purse snatched from me.”

Thadus couldn’t help but feel minimally curious about why this person thought they had been in this city-state for too long…

“My sole condition,” the not-thief added, “is that rather than hanging, I hope you will implore for exile. Life is more valuable than silver, whether the life is that of an upright person or someone forced to live off of petty thievery.”

Thadus reluctantly agreed that silver was not worth to be hung over. However, he would never voice agreement with a mere mortal.

The two women were silent, and then the silversmith nodded, before saying. “You should try the black market. I know nowhere else you might be able to find your token.”

The not-thief shook their head. “I appreciate the advice, however, I already went earlier today. It is unlikely they can fence it there either,” the fiend replied casually. “Now, we ought to leave. You two have my sincerest gratitude, regardless, and may your shop remain an upright one. I did receive some very valuable information. I ought to get some of my money back through this and I have my ways to find my token based on what I have learnt here.” The fiend bowed slightly to them both. “I wish you a continued joyful marriage.”

They turned to him, “Let us go, Lord Thadus.”

Thadus was apprehensive.

Or perhaps he should not be that, because every time he doubted this devil, it turned into an inconvenience for Thadus himself.

“Stranger!” the delicate woman called out.

The not-thief turned to her. “Yes?”

“May we know the name of our patron, were the money to appear?”

“My humble self’s name is merely known as Linden. I carry no other names.”

Author’s Note

Finally! Linden’s name reveal! I’ve been excited to reveal it since I decided on it.

Thadus may have requested a second serving. However, it was merely because he paid enough to receive four. He was not a big eater, commonly.

The fiend said nothing about this matter, and Thadus could certainly notice this. Instead, when someone new sat next to the fiend, they started chatting, asking if there was anything of note lately and how the other mortal was faring.

This mortal was truly a communicative one, asking anyone how they were and what they had to share. It was truly an infuriating practice for anybody to watch.

“It would appear as if thievery has risen,” the fiend said, hands behind their back as they strolled at a leisurely pace toward the Northern Market. “It is truly a regrettable situation for Rockforge, but they established this city-state at this location for the resources to extract, despite there being sparse options for one to grow in this area. It would have been more beneficial to have selected a location in any possible direction where there is more fertile land, or, at the very least, forests to forage from. The farmers of this city-state are truly struggling quite a bit.”

“No land is infertile. Ite merely demands for the use of the correct spells,” Thadus argued.

“Then, does Sir Caster know what spells are needed to fertilise the land, and in a way that allows Sir Caster not to return regularly to recast it?”

“I’m not an agricultural caster. It is not my expertise to use spells for the purpose of agriculture.”

“True, Sir Caster seems to be one who invites catastrophes,” the fiend said, voice casual.

Thadus sniffed at the offense. How could someone dare to say something such as this to a spellcaster? This mortal was indeed a lunatic.

He rather not dwell on that topic for too long.

“Why do you need this token? Can’t you ask for a new one?”

“Sir Caster may not know this, but us mortals have various kinds of tokens. These are necessary when travelling. If you cannot prove where you are from, you are not allowed into any city, including the one you originate from. This does not apply to a Lord Spellcaster such as your own exalted self, however, any traveller, any merchant moving between city-state, any shepherd and farmer, needs one of these.”

They turned off the main street into an alley, and Thadus reluctantly followed them. He did owe them now that he had been compensated. He couldn’t tarnish the reputation of spellcasters, especially when around someone who knew much about spellcasters.

As they walked through the shaded alley, the fiend’s attire suited for such a location, this person continued, “The lowest of these are guild issued tokens. Most of them are issued by merchant guilds, but there are a few more. Farmers, miners, shepherds and other of similar professions use guild tokens to enter and exit the city-state they are aligned with, however these might also allow you to travel between two or three city-states. Though this depends on how good a relationship a state has with another.”

They looked over their shoulder, their pale complexion standing out, but the hood casting a deep shade over their eyes.

“There are times when a city-state will refuse all guild tokens from a certain area or state due to the relationship growing sour even when trade is good. This is common when these cities are lorded over. If the city-lord is elected, then it may be because the other state simply had a lord they don’t like or have a differing opinion on. In other cases, it can be because a city-state became a vassal, or the opposite — they rebelled and declared full independency. These are very complicated relations.”

Thadus snorted, finding it a ridiculous system. Truly inefficient.

“House-issued tokens are given by highly wealthy or high noble houses. These tend to be only between cities where said family has a sway because of extended family. These are especially powerful if the city lord happens to be of that house, or if a regent’s royal line had a noble house married into their line.”

The fiend continued until another ally crossed the one they were following and turned once more, while explaining, “Finally, there are state-issued tokens. These are needed if one needs to travel much, and are considered universal. Refusing a state token is considered a declaration of war. As is losing another state’s token. These token are required to be returned to the origin state, were something to happen to the bearer. These differ in that there are different levels among the state issues ones. A messenger or diplomat would not hold a similar token to that of a royal, while a city lord’s would differ from that of a monarch. These are commonly only granted to a person once in their lifetime, and one may not hold a guild or house token while having a state-issued token in their possession.”

“That certainly sounds like a hassle to manage,” Thadus commented dryly. “A very mortal invention.”

“Indeed. It is a very mortal invention,” the fiend agreed. “But I need mine back. I’m not from Rockforge and I do wish to return home when it is time for me to do so, and I have some more city-states to visit before I return to whence I came. I hope Sir Caster will help me with this matter.”

Thadus had no other option than to do so. He had his reputation on the line.

“You mortals are quite inefficient.”

“This system is how we have managed to create order among the city-states. We have many more individuals among the mortal kin than caster kin, and as such is the case, there has to be a way to retain good relations between the different city-states.”

The spellcaster huffed.

“I believe it is common practice among spellcasters to offer one’s name before asking for a discussion. May Sir Caster allow me to know this.”

Thadus was quiet for a while, trying to determine if he could be said to have asked for a discussion. He merely asked for a question. That couldn’t be considered a discussion. It was simply asking.

“Thadus,” the spellcaster replied nonetheless.

“Lord Thadus…” the fiend thought for a moment. “That name rings true to Eden, Bliss and Paradise Tower, dos it not? May I be so bold to presume that Lord Thadus is from one of these locations?”

He paused for a beat, then said a simple, “No.”

This mortal truly knew far too much.

— Humble One! Why must you travel with him? I will not accept it.

— Don’t act like that. This is a perfect opportunity and I can make use of him. I know spellcasters.

— I don’t believe you, Humble One! I have never met a single one who knows you! Get rid of him! He is danger!

— …

— It is true!

— You have met none because I can’t possibly know every spellcaster.

Author’s Note

Trying to balance the more serious things while making this story funny is hard sometimes. Especially in a place such as Rockforge. I also don’t want Thadus to be always the same, yet still pretty consistent. So I try to put him in situations that are horrible for him, but want to vary them.

The worst thing that’s probably happened to him is the fiend.

“Maiden, give us two servings of stew!”

Thadus nearly recoiled as the fiend shouted over the din of the tavern.

“Coming right up!” a deep, hoarse voice hollered right back.

He regretted his decision deeply.

The tavern was full of people — eating, drinking, betting in a corner with smoking pipes between their lips. The people were certainly a blend. He could tell that some were merchants, dressed in colours, but looking less gaudy than the imitation of refinement in the Upper City and without the entourage. Others were dressed in muted colours. Some had embroidery on them, others did not. Some wore apron, both men and women, and others had soot and filth on their faces. He was rather certain one of them must be a servant to a noble sneaking in a meal because they were indeed dressed like the servants he had seen earlier.

At any table could be composed of any combination of these mortals. It was nearly sacrilegious to see something such as this, to even be made to partake is such an absurdity. Was he supposed to share a table with these unrefined creatures?

He looked at the fiend who stepped inside and walked with confidence toward one of the tables. They pushed back their hood slightly, but kept it covering their head. They spoke to those already seated at it, and the people shifted to make room. A youth came to wipe the table after the thief waved him over.

Thadus watched all this in disbelief.

The fiend then turned to him and waved for him to come over. “Sir Caster, there’s space over here!”

He truly had to be seated next to these filthy things?

“Or leave, if you want,” they continued, voice loud. “But this is the best tavern in all of Rockforge. You are unable to find any better food than here!”

The tavern was fragrant with the scent of food. Indeed, there were the stenches of sweat and some nauseating odour he couldn’t place, but the primary scent was food with an undertone of liquor.

It was cacophonous. Loud. People shouted at each other, and one could hardly not overhear every conversation. He could hear the noise of pots and pans from somewhere, mugs slammed against tables, the clatter of utensils. There was no order to the noises.

The fiend was looking at him with a smile, seeming to not notice the many patrons of the tavern. Instead, they just waved for him to come over again.

Thadus felt mildly challenged.

Was this fiend trying to lure him to challenge his endurance? Was it about who could suffer through the most? Was it who could handle this torturous environment without being driven mad?

And yet…

Thadus found himself taking a seat, looking disdainfully at the person next to him. They didn’t smell horribly, but they were dressed in dirty clothing. The one next to the fiend was no better.

The fiend immediately started to chat with the two workers.

“How are you faring? Anything to note these days?” they voice somewhat lower in volume, making the other two lean in to hear them.

“Same old, same old,” Dirty-Clothes One replied. “Money rolls in once in a while. How are you faring, stranger?”

“Same old, same old,” the fiend repeated. “I’m looking for pawnshops. You know any that may know the worth of some more unique items?”

“What’re you looking for?” Dirty-Clothes Two asked.

“An odd lump of silver. You know anywhere where I can find something like it?”

“If it’s silver, head to the silversmith up in the Northern Market. She got a pawnshop too with her lass.”

“Didn’t know of her yet. Good to know.”

“Here ya go!” The deep, hoarse voice came from a short distance.

Thadus truly regretted his decisions today. He would never step a foot in mortal lands again.

A plate was placed before the fiend by a muscly arm, wearing crude necklaces. The arm belonged to a large mortal with sleeves rolled up. The apron was obscuring most of the garments, but the shoulders were wide and the face sported a long, brown beard that had been braided, a flower tucked into one, and a headscarf covered the hair.

Thadus couldn’t wrap his head around what he was seeing.

“Thank you, fair maiden,” the fiend said with a smile.

“Not lotta folks call me fair,” the mortal responded, placing the second plate before Thadus.

Thadus stared at the stew. 

“You’re a dashing lady, regardless of whether people call you fair,” the fiend replied. “How fares your father?”

The spoon had been placed in the stew, right on the plate.

“Better. Ya were a help sent by the Heavens that day.”

There were no other utensils, just some bread the same youth from before offered.

“That’s good news. Would you mind if I pay for the meal later? I don’t have my purse on me right now. I can drop by once I’ve picked it up. Just me. This lord can pay for his meal on his own.”

How does someone eat with only a spoon? This Thadus did not know.

“Hmm…”

“Then, let me offer a guarantee, miss.”

Thadus looked up to see the fiend reach into their collar. They carefully removed a delicate gold chain that was around their neck, cradling the pendant in their hand before Thadus could see it. They handed it to the… maiden.

“This is a memento of my dearest grandparents. It is, to me, the most valuable thing I possess, but it holds little value to anyone else,” they said.

“This is too much,” she replied.

“I shall come for it tonight, and I shall pay for the meal then.”

The woman was quiet. “Fine. But if ya don’t bring me the money, I’ll pawn it.”

The fiend nodded. “I know. That would be on me.”

They then turned to their meal, grabbed the bread, and tore it apart before they began eating.

The woman turned to Thadus, and spoke in that deep, hoarse voice. “Twenty-five copper, unless you want a drink too.” She said it with such determination that was clear she would never accept any less, despite the price seeming ridiculously cheap to Thadus.

“I only carry silver,” he responded.

“Then that’s gonna be a silver for ya, m’lord,” she said.

“…”

Thadus could only take out a silver coin out of his purse and place it on the table. He just clearly payed for far more than he received. What a fraudulent practice of this tavern.

Thadus exhaled after the tavern keeper left their table.

The fiend looked up, swallowed a piece of bread. “Is there something the matter, Sir Caster? Is there something you cannot eat? I have never heard of spellcasters having restrictions on their diets. Quite the opposite, in fact…”

“We do not eat food of low quality. Getting ill is an unfortunate human condition, thus one has to be careful about consuming unclean ingredients,” Thadus explained.

He refused to mention he did not understand these vulgar dining habits, however.

The fiend nodded along, then said, “Good thing this tavern has excellent quality food. Taste it, Sir Caster. First, tear a piece of your bread, like this. Common practice is to dip it in the stew, however, you may also eat the piece first, then take a spoonful of stew.”

They showed the steps as if Thadus didn’t know how to eat, and no matter how much Thadus wished to be angered by this display, it was difficult when he did indeed not know of this custom.

The fiend swallowed the food. “It is a lovely mutton stew, Sir Caster. It is more than adequate to be presented before royalty.”

Thadus doubted it.

He hesitated before he took the bread into his hands and tore a piece. He had no plans on dirtying his hands with food, much like a small child would, and thus he put the bread in his mouth first. It could at best be said to be bland and a little dry, and that was calling it high praise. He didn’t think it could improve from this — only get worse.

With the bread being difficult to swallow, he was forced to taste the stew as well.

He paused. He had been ready to swallow it down immediately, but he found himself savouring how flavourful it was. It was nothing akin to the joke called food in the Upper City.

“How do you find it, Sir Caster?” the fiend asked after a moment.

Thadus swallowed. “Barely adequate,” he said as he tried dipping the bread in the stew.

Author’s Note

You are welcome to suggest unofficial names for our Tavern Keeper. I love her.

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.”

Author’s Note

Dart! The pipe! My precious!

After having to sign another scroll — and paying an amercement of a mere sixty-two silver coins, arbitrarily based upon the number of pieces of clothing that had fallen into the alley and onto the guards, plus the cost of ropes and the signage — Guard Properly-Dressed showed Thadus from the so-called “Lower City” to the “Upper City”. From the gate between the two, a guard of higher standing, if the appearance was anything to base assumptions on, soon showed the spellcaster their selections of… subpar entertainment and dining.

Not only was it subpar in the Upper City, it didn’t even share even a fraction of the same tantalising fragrance and the food in the artisan district. It was an offence, but Thadus was willing to entertain these lowly mortals. Once they had been sufficiently entertained, he would leave. 

Thadus strolled through the valved opening, decorated with colourful porcelain tiles, entering a square from which statues flanking every street. At the centre was a raised pagoda with a marble statue. A man in a light purple jacket and a shameless entourage of half a dozen servants walked past, not deigning to give Thadus even a look. Thadus returned the disinterest.

The poor imitation reeked of perfume. Thadus wasn’t so desperate to learn of mortal failure he wished to converse with a pretentious impersonation of refinement.

While the streets were less crowded and wider, they were dirtier. There were flowers lining the streets, but they did little to hide the stench of sewage. He could only endure after he quietly commanded the breeze to bring the offense away from him — behind the back of the guard, naturally. These mortals had a knack for making him pay for matters that were not his to deal with.

Guard Viridian-Coat respectfully explained that Upper City was the sole location that could host an exalted guest, such as a spellcaster. The nobles, the two ministers, the head cleric of the High Order, and naturally also the city lord of the Rockforge city-state all lived in these quarters as well. 

As such, the most refined inns were also located in the Upper City. Those living here sent servants to the Lower City for matters such as shopping. If they needed a tailor, there were a few who lived in the Upper City. If the city lord was pleased, then an artisan or craftsman may be allocated a shop here. If they fell out of favour, naturally they would be exiled.

Thadus spotted more equine waste along the street than any signs of mortals, which made him yearn for the human bodies pressed against him in the market district. How mortals could even live with having horses — HORSES!! — trotting on the streets was beyond him. Did mortals not know about the fact that droppings stunk? Had they no noses? Did they thrive in dung?!

Even if they were to claim it was to fertilise plants, what plants did they desire to grow between cobblestones? None of this equine waste was placed in the large flower beds. Did mortals not know one fertilised plants by placing manure where they grew, not on the stone beside the bed? How uneducated these beasts were!

“This here is our most elevated inn,” Guard Viridian-Coat said as he motioned an armoured arm toward a building that looked practically deserted. There was no music, no educated discussion, not even someone on a bench outside, leisurely lounging while waiting for one’s fellow peers to dine, or too idle to leave before their next meal.

Of course, with the stench out in the streets, naturally no one would desire to spend their afternoon lounging there.

In Fifteenth Eden, people would frequently be seen lounging in the streets to rest between activities, whether it was a meal, visiting one of many libraries, being hosted by acquaintances, or simply having a pleasant — or unpleasant — conversation about various matters. Some simply wanted to retrieve some sunlight, as it had been proven sunlight would open one’s mind and communing with spirits would be easier. Most would spend a few minutes a day soaking in the sun. Just as many would also try to soak in the moonlight when it was full, although that had no benefits. It was simply a refined activity and perfect for reciting poetry.

The closer they came, the worse the stench. Not only did this inn have no tantalising food smell, it was stinking with artificial fragrance. Even the breeze couldn’t save him from the offense. Thadus raised his sleeve to cover his nose before his eyes watered and he couldn’t hold back his sneezes.

Insolent fools, these mortals.

This odour was an offence against not just Thadus but even the spirits around him were affronted. No wonder the lands outside the city remained infertile — were they not offending the local spirits of the land with insults such as this, surely they would be happy to cooperate even if mortals had no ability to commune.

“Have you dined here?” Thadus asked behind his sleeve.

The guard turned to him. “Exhalted Master, how could you ask such? I am of much too low status to afford it. It would be an affront to the city lord to even suggest such a thing.”

“Then, go request me a private quarter to dine in. Aired out. Unperfumed. Bring an armful of flowers. I want a refined musician too. If possible, a minimum of ten to thirty books of high quality to read as well. I seek to eat local cuisine,” Thadus reasonably requested.

The guard looked awkward, but after a bow, he did enter the inn to tell them about the spellcaster’s orders.

A few minutes later, Guard Viridian-Coat stepped out again. “They say there are no private rooms available at the moment.”

Thadus was busy raising the flowers to grow bigger and more fragrant just at that moment when the guard returned. He felt bitter at the announcement, turning to the offensive Guard Viridian-Coat. Every plant touching his sceptre, even for a sweeping second, absorbed his bad mood and wilted, the leaves audibly crumpling.

Thadus refused to look at them. They were the ones who accepted the bad mood. He didn’t force it upon them. That was the fault of these flowers.

“Does this city not have private accommodation?” Thadus asked.

“Exalted caster, this is not true! We do have them. It is only that, at this particular time, the limited rooms are being used at this in. Let us go to the next tavern! It is nearby.”

Thadus could hardly be happy about such an arrangement. He had already been to so many of these establishments, and all he’s gain from it was paying for something he hadn’t even caused. He felt wronged on every level of indignation possible.

Even in Eden one might come across difficulties and arguments, but who had ever heard of having to paying amercements for poor ropes and dirty laundry that fell upon local guard, or visiting seven different locations for dining and still not able to get any private seats? This was truly subpar even by mortal standards, was it not?

“Never mind,” Thadus said. “If there are no private rooms, I can sit among others. But I require a table for myself.”

The guard nodded. “Of course, Your Lordship is naturally of good heart and mind. I shall have this arranged.”

Thadus felt the corners of his mouth twitch at the higher tone of voice, indicating this person was truly… mocking him.

As the guard had turned to re-enter the inn, he made several cobblestones rise, so the guard took several stumbling steps. When he looked back to see what he had tripped over, the stones were back in place and Thadus was already busying himself with the withered flowers, trying to salvage a few seeds from them to grow new ones in the withered ones’ place. Thadus saw from the corner of his eye how the guard turned and immediately tripped over his own feet in confusion as he tries to understand what had just happened.

What a disgracefully incompetent mortal.

Compared to the fiend, this mortal couldn’t even be called clumsy, but rather should be considered an embarrassment to humanity. How could such a person be a guard?

Even Guard Properly-Dressed seemed to be of higher capabilities.

Thadus concluded this guard must have used silver to buy his position. This was a thing he had heard mortals did at times. That green coat would be better used on someone else.

He decided to focus on the flowers. They were more important. He hadn’t meant to make them suffer, even if they had accepted the bitterness. He managed to get a handful of seeds and then pulled the withered blooms out of the dirt. He asked the earth spirits to use what he had to space them well for him while he focussed on finding a water spirit. Droplets slowly gathered at the end of his sceptre, but he couldn’t find any consciousness of water anywhere nearby. He was forced to follow the ill-advised practice of asking the winds to spread the water for him over the buried seeds. The earth was not pleased when half of it splashed onto the street, but there was nothing Thadus could do about this matter. What was he supposed to do?

Pour the water onto the seeds himself? What an absurd thought!

He coaxed the flowers to grow once more, but seedlings were fragile and he could only bring them to an unbloomed state before he let them rest. He was proud of them, and a seedling wrapped around his sceptre in gratitude.

“Let go,” he told it. “You’re dirtying my tool.” He paused, before awkwardly adding. “It’s dangerous, young one. Learn from your elders.”

Only when the seedling had let go did he turn to the inn once more. Guard Viridian-Fool looked at him with a complex expression.

“Well? Was there not even a table available?” Thadus asked, immediately feeling the impatience of the imminent offence of rejection.

“No. There is indeed one open for you, Exalted Sir.”

“Why are you looking at me like I’m a fool, then? Have you never told a person they are allowed into an establishment before?”

The guard gave Thadus an ingratiating smile. “I have never needed to, no, Exalted Master.”

Thadus grit his teeth.

Incompetent, insolent, imbecilic mortal.

He would endure this. He should accept that this guard had no sense of propriety. He could entertain this mortal to this degree, as it would not harm his reputation. Thadus needed to be magnanimous.

Thadus would merely burn this man’s house down if he ever found out where he lived.

Naturally, the house alone, no need for casualties. Spells were not meant to end life. Many a spellcaster had broken this taboo and not without consequence.

Thadus wouldn’t stoop as low as mortals and cause unredeemable harm. He lacked their cruelty, disorder and questionable fertilisation practices.

He stepped forward, and the impertinent guard bowed while motioning toward the door of the white stone building. The door swung open with a loud crack, but Thadus ignored it. He raised his sleeve and strolled into the cloyingly perfumed inn. Perhaps they had let something rot in there, based on how heavily perfumed this awful establishment was.

He found a table and turned to Guard Viridian-Fool. “Now, ensure I receive local cuisine.”

He looked around and saw a few people, dressed in bright colours, dining alone at tables. It was too quiet, not even a conversation.

“Get me a musician, too. Or a poet. A poet might do as well.”

“…As you will, Exalted Sir.”

Thadus saw the guard leave out of the door. Naturally, and gratefully, the man would never have returned to the inn, having now left. Thadus had already lost fate in a fool such as that man.

And there was no music, no poetry, not even a decent discussion. A rat was a more refined dining company than this.

The food had no taste. It took too long. It was cold when served. No wonder no one desired to eat at this pathetic excuse of an establishment.

Thadus left the Upper City after merely two bites. He had finally had enough of this ridiculous farce. It wasn’t worth spending even a copper coin on.

Author’s Note

Time for discussion: Did he, or did he not, pay for that “meal”?

As Thadus strode out of the fifth tavern he had visited, and which was just as outrageously without a single private room as the previous ones, his eyes landed on a darkly clad figure squatting in the alley across this tavern on the Main Artisan Lane. Even while people strolled and even rode horses — The audacity! Horses!! — past him, he could undoubtedly recognise this figure. They still had the hood up, but the sash-belt, looking more akin to a deep or indigo blue now that the sun stood at zenith, was heaped on the ground because of its sheer length. The tassels along the edge looked worse for wear as people carelessly walk right on top of them.

The thief didn’t seem to care, however, vermin as they were. They were instead seemingly muttering to themselves while studying a cat digging through the wastes of these mortals.

Thadus, with as much dignity as was feasible in these chaotic streets, crossed the road and paused next to the escapee.

He had more than a bone to pick with this shrewd, incorrigible little criminal.

He would pick every single one of theirs, grind them up, and make a cursed talisman out of them.

Was he familiar with curses? No, that was not a prowess he could claim just yet.

But what could a spellcaster not learn with promises of centuries more to go before he unfortunately would turn to dust himself? He certainly could take his time and study the most—

“Sir Caster, would you not look this direction in such a way, as if you were gazing upon your own mother-in-law, not long after she scolded you over giving her the wrong kettle for high tea?”

The thief turned to look at Thadus over their shoulder.

“My little friend is getting a little anxious by your vicious scowl saturated with such gleefulness at a second encounter with a one-sided adversary.”

The cat hopped onto a box and then jumped onto the ledge of a wall before it ran away.

The thief straightened to full length and patted away dust and dirt with pale hands with carefully clean nails. They were shorter than Thadus.

With their back against the spellcaster, they lamented, “Ah, the little kitty ran away. Guess it couldn’t find any mice then. Unless it got too scared of the glare, of course.”

The thief pulled out a thin metal pipe and carefully pushed away something in the pile of debris with certainty.

“Hmm, indeed, I better move this real quick before we leave,” they said softly, as if speaking to themselves. They pulled out a clean handkerchief and gently transferred… a small nest with what clearly were newly born mice onto the handkerchief.

Disgusting!

“Where should I put your little home, children? We can’t have you little ones somewhere too dangerous, can we? But where is your mother, I wonder? I need to find a safe place where she’ll find you before the cats do.”

Within his racing mind, Thadus was bellowing, Let the cats have them!

He managed to recompose himself quickly. The cats would eat those vermin, regardless. That was how any city functioned.

“Aren’t you a thi—”

“Shhhh!” the thief hushed. “Do not speak such a taboo word. It is to a mortal a death sentence in this city-state. It does not concern you much, of course, Sir Caster, but to mortals such as myself, that word shall only be spoken with restraint in a place such as Rockforge. I rather be alleged a murderer.”

The thief found a small cranny to place the pink, nauseating mice in. Only then did they fully turn to the spellcaster.

Their eyes looked like sunlight as they caught the sun at an angle. A stray strand of hair had fallen onto their forehead, brushing against their brow.

“And, besides, I am not one, Sir Caster. I have done no one else any wrong, other than perhaps disturbed some person or other when borrowing the roofs to climb a wall or two.”

“And why should I believe you have not…” Thadus struggled to reconcile that thief was in any way worse than someone who had taken a person’s life. “…displaced someone else’s belongings?”

“Sir Caster, your words wrong me immensely. But I do not truly expect you to believe me to speak the truth, either,” the still-alleged not-thief said solemnly. “However, if you are not careful, an innocent person’s life could be in danger, so choose your phrasing as deliberately as this, especially whenever you have not observed what has indeed occurred. What we cannot see, our ears will lie to us about based on what others tell us, what we do not hear or feel, our eyes can do the same based on what our minds will conjure up. In a court of justice where judgement is given first and innocence is proven second, Sir Caster, your words are more powerful than the city lord’s.”

They paused before adding. “Even a spellcaster cannot wash themselves clean of any guilt they carry were they to cause a death that was unjustified, even if the court of Rockforge cares little about the truth of alleged thieves. One’s consciousness cares little about mortal laws, if one believes in the laws of spellcasters, no?”

“Your mortal laws make little sense.”

“Indeed, in certain parts of the mortal world, they do not. In other parts, they are more sensible. Have Sir Caster never heard of spellcasters having different laws between regions? This is the same between city-states, only that they differ more greatly. We do not follow a general set of rules, only local ones.”

“It’s natural that laws differ somewhat between regions. Eden needn’t share laws with other regions. There needn’t be restrictions that exist elsewhere. But mortal laws still are insensible.”

“Sir Caster is correct, if this is what Sir Caster is to believe so strongly. I aim not to discredit your educated opinions, just explain that a word here can have much graver results than you are used to,” the still-alleged not-thief responded amicably.

This made Thadus feel a strange sense of indignation, but not because the vermin didn’t seem to accept his point of view. Why, he couldn’t say.

He pushed the thought away. It was ridiculous.

They looked at him before giving him a slight bow. “I have to take my leave now. I only stopped for the mice. I need to find the thief who robbed me of my purse now, before I lose them entirely. I still have an idea of where they may have gone.”

“And who might this ‘thief’ be, if you can call them such?”

It seemed deeply ironic to not let Thadus even mention the word, and yet this creature took the liberty to label another the same way.

“They are in fact two; as one tried to distract me, the other took my purse. They weren’t expecting me to grab hold of my coin purse, as it was being stolen from my belt. When I wouldn’t let it go, they yanked it away and cried thief to run away with my valuables,” the still-alleged not-thief claimed. “I care little about the money; it was not that important. I can get more. However, I do need my purse back.”

“What’s so special about the purse that you need to rush for it, thief?”

“It—”

“Who’s the thief?!”

A voice sharply cried behind Thadus, drowning out what the still-alleged not-thief said. The still-alleged not-thief as the looked past the spellcaster. Thadus himself turned to look who had dared disturb him.

Neither of them had time to say anything before a woman in an apron pointed at the alleged not-thief. “Guards! GUARDS! A nobleman’s bein’ robbed!”

Who was being robbed, now?!

“Well, that is an unfortunate cue,” the not-thief said and turned to leave, but before they could, some other irrelevant passerby grabbed them by the shirt and yanked at it.

“Whoa!” the startled not-thief exclaimed as they were forced to take several steps back. “Hey!”

Thadus watched as the not-thief was pulled into the street, mortals beginning to encircle their kin. The stench of these things getting closer was worse than the rubbish pile the pink mice had been found in. He raised his hand to protect his nose from this assault against his sensibilities.

“This is outrageous,” he murmured behind his sleeve, as the not-thief was shoved further out. This mob was hungrier for blood than the cat who had a meal right under its nose, yet ran away.

“Find the money!” someone shouted over the clamour.

Another cried, “Where’s the purse?”

“Bring’im to the guards!” a third person exclaimed.

They pulled at the not-thief’s sash, hood, sleeves, trousers. The dark-clad person didn’t try to fight back, just calmly held onto their sash and stubbornly pulled to keep the hood on and eyes lowered. Thadus could see them moving their lips, but he heard nothing they might have said because of the increasing cacophony of the mob.

What sort of monsters were these beasts? They had absolutely no sense of structure.

He felt his eye twitch as a hair hand was trying to push into the not-thief’s lapels.

Preposterous vermin! Filthy mortals!

He reached toward his sleeve.

The not-thief raise their legs and kicked the owner of the unreasonable hand away. In the process they pulled a thin copper pipe out of their boots. It was the one they had used previously to poke in the pile.

Wait. No.

Thadus turned to look at the pile. It was still right there. And it might be bronze, not copper, but it was hard to tell where it was in the shade.

The spellcaster turned just in time to hear the screech be of metal against stones. The not-thief had ducked, their hood having been half pulled off, exposing their fiery hair to the sun. Mortals jumped away from the sparks that the metal spit at them as the not-thief scraped it is a quick circle around them. One round boulder of a man didn’t move fast enough and fell into those behind as he stumbled.

Thadus presumed the thief would do something akin to when they fled in the market district. Surely they would try to escape now that they had space.

The person stood at full height, shifted to hold the pipe at its midsection.

They spun it; the metal catching sun, causing Thadus to blink at the light that hit him in the eyes.

The next he knew, he heard a deep thud. He blinked once more and saw the thief held not a thin pipe, but a heavy-looking wooden staff, the end before them resting against the road.

He was stunned.

Those closest to this person who had seen it too paused, speechless. Those trying to help the thick man up dropped him once more.

“I apologise in advance, but I implore you to please reconsider this,” they said as their weight shifted. They slipped one foot back, held their staff with both hands. “Let us not cause much of a ruckus, shall we?”

As this person took a defensive martial stance, the hood could no longer hold on and slipped down, their hair flowing in the breeze. Gold and silver earrings were exposed as well. The inverted pyramidal shapes reached past their chin, dangling silently, the glinting sharply.

They smiled politely. Softly even. Their voice held no anger or frustration. “See, gentlemen and honoured ladies, I am in quite the hurry, so either you let me go as I have done no wrong, or I’ll have the misfortune to show you not to hinder the desperate.”

Thadus came back to himself, realising to his indignation that this sly performer was playing him. For a moment he had almost been awed, almost thought of them a peer.

Angered, he said, “Gale,” and with a wave of his arms, the wind grabbed hold of this devil.

He. Wanted. Them. Gone.

The fiend swung at the wind and turned to Thadus. “Why are you intervening now, Sir?” they asked, sounded exasperated. “You were already causing quite a bit of a mess before, were you not? Was the punishment for destruction not enough and now you are simply that eager to empty your coffers some more?”

This! Fiend!

He had nearly forgotten. Nearly!

It was all this fiend’s fault. All of it!

“Sir, is it not a slight overreaction to cast a storm at me with so many bystanders?” the devil asked as they sidestepped another gust. “I mind not if we have a duel, but could you choose a better time, Sir?”

The fiend swung their staff again.

“Sir, I implore you to show some mercy. I am a victim here.”

“Mercy?” Thadus asked with a scoff. “Who do you mortal think you are? Mercy? How dare you!”

The crowd seemed to have began to realise this was not a matter they could handle, and many started to flee, even as they got shoved around by the gusts aimed at the slippery fiend.

If a few of them fell over as the gales ripped through the., that was their own faults. They tried to place this injustice upon his name. They disturbed him as he questioned this lowly demon. They were all at fault! Whatever may come their way was all on them!

“A very reasonable question indeed, Sir Caster,” the fiend replied, flipping the staff over, now holding a spear, increasing their range. “I am afraid, I dare not. However, I do not think I am anyone but who I was raised to be. Sir Caster, who might you be? Would you mind sharing this with me?”

They took several quick steps forward, suddenly cutting through the gales coming at them from the sides.

“Sir Caster might not realise this, but holding me up is keeping me from retrieving my token. I am indeed in quite the hurry to get it back. The thieves surely do not realise what it is, but once they realise it cannot be sold, I worry they’ll melt the silver of it down and take the gemstones. Could we delay this for a while more? Also, Sir Caster, because you interrupted me earlier at the market, I couldn’t catch them sooner, and I am quite hungry, so this is a little taxing. Would Sir Caster please not spare a lowly mortal?”

“No, I don’t care for mortals the way you care for vermin. I owe you nothing.”

“Ah… Sir Caster is one of those. I see, I see. Whence have you come? Euphoria? Nirvana? Shangri-La? Bliss?”

Thadus narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why do you know names of our regions?”

The fiend chuckled, slightly breathless after having evaded and stopped one gale after another. “Why? Have you met no one studying geography before?”

They closed in on Thadus, forcing him backward into the alley when the spearhead clinked — Clinked!! — against a silver button on his coat. They twirled, holding a rapier in hand, and changed their approach.

Thadus was forced to take out his magic sceptre out of his sleeve, while the wind had to be calmed. Trying to use winds in an alley meant they were as likely to cause Thadus grief as they could rid him of the fiend, and the rapier certainly did not help him in his attempts.

With a mortal threatening him with a weapon, trying to commune with the spirits of nature certainly was a new sort of trial. This was not something they ever had to learn when taught spells. Part of everyone’s curriculum was naturally to duel using magic, but which spellcaster would ever need to cast spells against a mortal who constantly changed type of weaponry? Or even weaponry. Duels weren’t taken too seriously in Fifteenth Eden either. Eden was deep into spellcaster territory, far away from the battles of mortals, and as such, a duel in Eden was no more than a leisure activity, seldom even requiring one to stand.

And yet.

And yet!!

Here Thadus had to parry a whole blade with his magic sceptre. His golden! Magic! Sceptre! This was his most precious magical tool! It was not supposed to be used defensively like some replaceable mortal invention!

“Ah,” the fiend said and paused for a second. Thadus was about to command water when he heard a low grumble.

It caused him to pause as well.

The fiend took the opportunity to press the point of the rapier against another silver button of Thadus’ coat. “Sir Caster, I will have to excuse myself now. I really need to get my purse back, if I want to eat a meal. All my travel funds is in there because I had gathered it all up. I was about to buy rations before leaving Rockforge. I’ve stayed too long in one place already as is.”

The fiend retrieved the rapier while Thadus was gnashing his teeth, but no matter how indignant he was, he could tell this mortal had surely been in combat against spells before.

“This much is also about as much as this dart can handle, so let us not meet again, Sir Caster.” They tossed the rapier up and caught a thin copper pipe.

“Dart? What dart?”

“No, not a dart, but…” They spun the pipe, and it turned into a maze. “…this dart.”

“That’s not a dart,” Thadus scoffed.

“Its name is Dart. This is Dart,” the fiend explained after tossing the weapon up again and catching a pipe again, then tossed that up to catch a dagger.

Thadus could only ask the obvious as the obvious: “Why?”

“Because it’s a dart, I suppose.” The fiends bowed, while pulling up their hood. “Now, I have a token and fifteen-hundred silver to retrieve.”

“Fifteen… hundred?”

They adjusted their sash and slipped into the shadows, while saying, “In paper slips, of course.”

“…”

Thadus was speechless, forgetting to stop the fiend before the devil had scaled a wall and was running away on the rooftops, nearly slipping when a shingle came loose.

Who carried enough money to buy a couple, or three or four, large mansions and hire the staff for it in their purse?

Dozens of hurried steps approached the alley and Thadus heard a grating voice say, “In here, Sir Guard! There was a robber here!”

He turned to see Guard Properly-Dressed stop at the entrance of the alley the moment the two locked eyes.

“…”

“What is th—”

Before the guard could say more, several clotheslines snapped and both damp and dry laundry fell onto the group of guards.

Thadus had no words. Those ropes must really be quite brittle. Gales don’t break ropes.

Now, as the end of a rope snapped in the still calming winds, a street sign, which had precariously held onto its hook despite the hard gusts and piercing gales, fell, and the wood shattered loudly against the cobblestones.

Indeed. Mortal architecture was truly below standards.

— Not efficient enough. Your use of weaponry was uncommonly careless.

— My apologies, my lady.

— Your footwork was questionable at best.

— My apologies, my lady. I was distracted.

— That is not an excuse. Battle is all disturbances , yet you still cannot be allowed clumsy footwork.

— I understand, my lady. I have wronged you, and shall better my ways.

— You certainly have no other alternative.

— …

— Humble One, there’s food to the west!

— Not now! I’m being scolded!

— But food, Humble One!

— That will have to be delayed for the time being, young child. Adequate nourishment costs humans money.

— My lady is absolutely correct. It will wait. It costs money. And I was wrong not to take your lessons to heart for a duel.

Author’s Note

Guard Properly-Dressed: So, Sir, I do apologise, but you will have to pay a second amercement…

Thadus: … *quietly takes out his pouch*

Thadus regretted ever breaking his many thousands of days’ long record of never visiting a mortal city-state. Not that he had ever counted the days, but he was born to spellcasters away from mortal dwellings, so naturally it could be calculated.

He sniffed as the town guards considered the destroyed wall, then looked at the relatively tall man in a dark red coat with silver and silk embroidery on the cuffs and lapels.

“Sir…” one of them began.

“I have repaired it.”

The guards once again looked at the fractured wall, which may or may not have turned about two inches thinner in a couple of spots.

Perfectly normal. It was a fault in the design, not in Thadus’ skill, naturally. It was already like that, and it only was because Thadus reassembled it that the problem was revealed. It was, however, stronger and sturdier now. All relevant pieces were in place.

That some cobblestones were left over and two of the guards had to sweep away some sand and dust…

That was not a fault of his. Those were extra parts. They weren’t part of the actual street. And the dust and sand was just from the ground, already there from the very beginning. It happened.

It had nothing to do with the wall. 

The most well-dressed guard hummed. “I did not say anything else, Sir. However, whether or not you corrected the issue, we have to give you punishment for the temporary destruction of our city. It’s only a slight amercement, to make up for the inconvenience for all people in the district,” he explained.

“Fine. But I still reconstructed the wall to its previous condition.”

“So you did, Sir,” the guard replied. “An excellent performance, if I must say so myself.”

Another guard tapped Guard Properly-Dressed on the shoulder. “How do we, ahem, determine the amount of the amercement for a matter such as this?”

“Go find a merchant with large scales. Any scale will do, as long as it weighs true.”

Three or four guards left to do as told.

“Hmph.” Thadus was unimpressed.

How primitive these things were. Could they just not use scales anymore?

A few minutes later, the guards returned with a large scale on a cart, and some merchant and weights in tow as well.

While Thadus rolled his eyes at how infuriating these beings were, they loaded one side of the scales with dust, broken stone and some cobblestones, while putting weights on the other side.

Guard Properly-Dressed stood at the side watching the scales. “How come you have brought us the fortune of your presence, Sir?” he asked. “Rockforge hardly has anything to offer an exalted spellcaster, such as yourself.”

“No reason,” Thadus replied, clipped.

“Ah, I see. We are indeed very privileged to have a spellcaster decide to study the lives of us mortals here in Rockforge. You have my deepest gratitude. But we still sincerely request you avoid casting spells on our architecture, Sir.”

Thadus gave the guard an offended look.

The guard said nothing else.

“It totals to fifty-two and a quarter pounds!” a young guard announced.

“That will be fifty-two and a quarter in silver then, Sir.”

Thadus took out his purse.

“In equal weight, Sir,” Guard Properly-Dressed added.

Thadus bristled. “I am aware!” He took out a house seal. “Hurry up and get the paperwork done. I’ll leave it to the estate in Fifteenth Eden.”

Guard Properly-Dressed waved for a scribe to come over and had a scroll written right there. He then requested, “I would appreciate if you would sign here, Sir, and stamp here to prove authenticity of your exalted name and house.”

Thadus truly regretted he had ever come. But at least the amercement was a very small sum in the end. It could have been worse.

The matter was quickly settled once he could just deal with the paperwork. He had no reason to be pleasant enough to remain there for their conversational entertainment. He could have left from the beginning, naturally, but he was at the very least a decent spellcaster. Not a pest, like that little thief. He actually wished to uphold the favourable reputation of spellcasters. Not for the mortals, but for his own high kin.

Who hadn’t heard of someone who treated mortals lesser than their own pets? It was common enough to gossip about, as some spellcasters forgot that mortals were just lesser in how they structured their societies, in their social habits, and of course in how they built any constructs. They were not inhuman.

According to common lore, mortals were said to potentially being ancestors to spellcasters. Thadus subscribed to the far more proven theory that all humans — both mortals and spellcasters — descended from spellcasters. After all, not all mortals could even read. How could spellcasters descend from creatures who wouldn’t ever learn such basic skill? This theory predated the more recent one by more than a few decades. Naturally, this one ought to be the truth.

Thadus was, after all, very well-educated.

He was truly fully aware that mortality was a human problem, not a mortal one. The most ancient scribes spoke of mortality as a disease that plagued mortal and high kin alike, but in recent centuries it has been recognised the mortality rate are simply higher in mortals and that the cause was not an inherent disease. Spellcasters eventually die as well, of course, but only about half do before they are between seven and fifteen decades of age. About one in ten reach thirty decades, one in a thousand or less might survive to fifty.

Both ancient and recent theories are simply based upon either looking down on mortals, or looking down on spellcasters. Only once you stripped away all flourishing, would one conclude that spellcasters are of higher kin and only by removing the biases can one truly argue so.

As he pondered this truth, he left the horrible market district and its crowded streets and found himself in a district with a mixture of likely artisans and housing. It was still loud, there was still a stench, but from somewhere, he could detect a fragrance of something tasty.

The streets were bustling, and he heard resounding clanking over the many conversations that were half-shouted between mortals. Soon he walked past a smith hammering away on some shiny yellow metal.

It was presumably gold.

How irresponsible.

Gold was an excellent conductor of magic. It was only used for such by spellcasters. Thadus had never understood the need for gold in anything but magic tools, but mortals were a silly collection of creatures. They should, he sensibly thought, seek to learn magic and have their descendants become spellcasters too, or give the goods to the spellcasters to make better magic tools so mortals needed not live such wasteful lives while packed like sardines.

The pleasant fragrance came from a tavern. Unfortunately, it was a bit too cramped and, when Thadus asked for a private quarter to dine in, he was told there was no such thing.

What else could Thadus do than try for a different, more reasonable, establishment?

— Over there, Humble One!

— What’s there?

— Food! I found you food, Humble One!

— That is, quite literally, a heap of rubbish. The only thing in there would be mice.

— I perceived some humans in the slums cook mice as we walked past them earlier. They are indeed considered food. And you eat similar things, no, Humble One?

— A mouse isn’t enough, you silly little thing. At least give me a whole rat. Preferably a large one.

Author’s Note

He fixed the wall, I promise. (Thadus forced me to say this.)

Story Information

Title: Observations Among Thieves and Other Vermin, or The Unfortunate Misadventures of Lord Thadus
Genre: Fantasy Comedy

Note: This is (supposed to be) a funny story about this one spellcaster who visits a mortal city-state and it goes very different from expected. There’s a little more (unreliable) information on the story’s page.

Thadus had never visited a mortal market previously.

He had only just entered the market district of the city-state of Rockforge, and yet he could already tell that this was not only an unreasonably cramped location, it was both cacophonous and rancid. There was no rhyme nor reason to which direction these bodies moved; the stream of mortals went up and down the main street erratically. If he attempted to make way for one, he bumped into another; if he attempted to take more than a step forward, he nearly would take one step back.

The spellcaster had to force himself through the crowd, like some rat squeezing through a gap in the wall. No one exhibited any regard for him.

As he neared the actual market, the current of the mortal flow was stronger and he found himself being shoved along, whether he had the purpose of moving or not.

The assault of the odours of the market increased in intensity the closer he was pushed, while the noise was nearly deafening. A stall at the side of the street had a nauseating smell of fish rotting in the sun, and by a cart, a man was hawking out his wares.

When he saw an alley, he pushed through the current and, although he nearly missed it, he managed to find a safe isle at the corner. He looked back at the main street flooded by moving bodies squeezed together in mild horror.

Thadus had never experienced a river of flesh previously.

Now he had. And he certainly could say it was beneath any proper living creature to willingly go through with such a thing regularly.

He huffed, adjusting his dark red coat. As he did, he took a moment to brush off some sort of powder of an unknown white substance from his sleeve. Perhaps it was just wheat flour for bread or regular ground bones for some strange, unthinkable use, but who knew what these mortals might grind up? It was better not to wear it, lest he attracted whatever pests lived on these filthy streets, rodents or otherwise.

He had heard of how uncivilised mortals often were, their life spans much too short to have a deeper understanding of the world. He had naturally known that these beings lived in smaller zones with vast areas of allegedly uninhabitable land between, but he had seen nothing uninhabitable with any of it. It needed a bit of fertility magic on the ground and perhaps some acclimatisation spells here and there, but that these mortals couldn’t even farm lands was really too much.

Mortals were a tragic bunch, really. If they only sought to learn, they would be better off. They could extend their life spans like civilised folks and not live crammed together like fruit slices fermenting in a jar.

Spellcasters, such as himself, were indeed superior, no matter how he saw it. They had clean, spacious streets that were, at all times, kept in order. Their streets did not smell of sewage, rot and sweat, but tended toward more floral notes. They weren’t noisy nor did they spread their unwashed stenches everywhere. And they lived longer. Not always, of course, but they could live for centuries, unlike the mortals.

He adjusted his coat and sleeves again, leaning against the stone wall.

Indeed, spellcasters were of high kin. They could go anywhere they liked. They could even make nature bow before them. They—

“THIEF!!”

The busyness of the street slowed as heads turned toward the market proper.

“Robber!!” the deep voice called out again over the din as the market gradually fell into silence.

“Purse snatcher!” came another, younger-sounding.

Like tides, mothers and older sisters picked up young children, hurrying off to the side. Others stretched their necks like cranes to see what was happening.

Thadus himself couldn’t stop himself from being another crane at the riverside, finding this far more interesting than getting pushed around by mortals.

A piglet squealed and next came a crashing sound.

“CATCH ‘IM!” several voices thundered at once.

Chicken clucked in fright, a woman shrieked, many cursed. These mortals had suddenly turned into dogs at a hunt.

A little too many dogs of a way too large size crammed into no space, but the air was filled with the anticipation of a hunt.

As Thadus watched, he could see people getting shoved aside. From the sea of heads, a figure suddenly appeared. The figure had jumped out of the crowed and grabbed onto a clothesline hanging over the mouth of the street. They used it to get past the crowd, who tried the grab onto the fabric tied around their waist like a sash. No one seemed to manage, and after the person had managed to get from the middle of the crowd, they swung themselves to a part of a wall that was behind a stand. The seller ducked while the figure in dark clothes scaled the wall and started to run along the ledge, which was barely four or five inches wide.

Some mortals tried to get out of the way while others attempted to grab onto the figure’s shoes and trouser hems. But whenever anyone was particularly close, the figure would show exceptional agility and evade it in an almost theatrical manner, as if dancing along the ledge. This infuriated the river and greater tides of mortals trying to capture the thief.

Amused by this, Thadus craved to see if he could be far more suited for the matter. It was a preposterous notion that he wouldn’t achieve what he willed.

The thief was trying to escape on the same side as Thadus was resting at and was indeed approaching the alley from the opposite direction. The mortal had its attention on where each foot was placed, and evaded the attempts of capture from others with blind efficiency. Even when some uncivilised mortal gripped a broom in frustration to swing from behind their target, it missed gallantly while the escapee continued toward Thadus at a steady pace.

The alleyway he had found his safe isle at was quiet without many moving creatures, especially now that most mortals had either hurried away or come to gawk or chase. It was, instead, littered with all sorts of items, high and low, from broken carts to clotheslines with sheets obscuring view.

Thadus paced over to the other side, commanding the cobblestones to shift a filthy cart out of the way for him with a modest wave of his hand. The cobblestones on one end rose, one by one, obediently pushing the obstacle away so the spellcaster needed not step around it. He walked past it and reached the wall on the facing side, sending a breeze through the alley to push the stench of rotting fish away. He could no longer endure the rancid olfactory offence.

As the thief approached, Thadus lazily raised his hand.

“Do not attempt to flee from me,” he told the figure dressed in dark.

This disrespectful individual didn’t bother to care. Instead, the mortal used their momentum as they ran to evade the gust directed at them by simply acting like some lowly performer, using their hands to not only flip past Thadus, but both holding onto the unmovable ledge beneath them as the wind rushed past, without pausing for even the blink of an eye, and keeping the movement parallel to the wall. This being — this lowly creature with nothing of value — didn’t even wobble.

Thadus huffed at such a disgraceful display. He slammed his hand against the wall and hissed, “Shift.”

The stones in the wall began to shudder, and the trembling spread in every direction, down into the cobblestones in the ground. The wind viciously began to pull at any fabric, be it sheets hanging above the head of this vermin or its dirty clothes.

The quivering stones began to shift in their places, causing the entire wall to wobble and shake. The vermin missed half a step, but rather than stop or even look at him, it turn half a quarter.

Thadus’ gaze shifted to the leather boots of this person. He closed his fist, dragging it upward against the hard stone, forcing the spirits of the earth to push the entire corner of the wall up.

The thief took a step back to steady themselves, forgetting they had no footing behind them, and helplessly lost their balance. They swung one arm to grab a sheet hanging on a clothesline, but a cruel natural gust took it away just as the thief was about to grab it.

Thadus froze.

The figure helplessly tried to grab hold of something, anything.

The spellcaster moved before he had the thought. He took two quick steps and reached out for the falling person.

He could have used magic. 

Should have used magic. 

But a moment later he felt the weight and warmth of a living body against his chest before he understood what was happening. He took a few steps back to steady himself so as not to fall on his backside.

The mortal in his arms had been tense at first but then relaxed, their back heavy against the spellcaster’s chest. After a moment, they raised their arm and tilted the head back, one hand pushing the hood back a little. They looked up at the spellcaster. One eye was a light brown with flecks of green, grey and bright copper, the other a mosaic of the same colours and a streak of sky blue in the upper corner. Both were filled with unrestrained surprise. The hood was covering fiery red hair, but some strands caught enough light for Thadus to see it at this downward angle.

The spellcaster gazed back at the mortal. Their face was clean despite the filthy garments, and they lacked the stench of the other mortals found in this market district. Either this thief was really successful, or…

“You’re the thief?” he asked.

The thief shook their head. “No, the real one stole my money and cried thief. So, would you mind to let me go now?”

“Why are you running if you’re not the actual thief?”

“Because I cannot have the guards find me. Besides, Sir Caster would not know this, but Rockforge truly detests thieves. It is considered a crime against the state,” the alleged not-thief claimed.

Thadus did not truly accept this sort of tall tale. Mortals were dubious at best, but even a mortal would be rather foolish to believe what this alleged not-thief told him.

“Why would I not bring you to the guards? I have no reason not to give you over.”

The alleged not-thief turned to look at the wall they had just fallen from. Thadus turned to it as well. The corner was standing on a spike of earth that had displaced cobblestones around the wall, while several stones had fallen out of it. There was a painful crack followed by a thud as another half a stone fell out. It bounced and rolled over to the two of them.

“Sir Caster, I think even you might end up in trouble after destroying property of the city…” the alleged not-thief said gently as they gently kicked the rock. “Not even spellcasters are above mortal laws.”

“…I can naturally reverse it,” Thadus responded in a huff and pushed the alleged not-thief away from him. “How could you possibly consider this not to be the case?”

The alleged not-thief nodded. “Ah, that is very true, Sir Caster. I had not thought of that. Go on, display for me this reversal process.”

With a huff, the spellcaster closed his eyes, and exhaled, tuning in to the spirits of the land. He felt for the flows of their powers and listened to their voices, before he commanded them to handle the damage for him. The wind sighed its agreement, the roots beneath the city groaned their acceptance, the stone tapped its acknowledgement.

Tapped?

No, stones don’t tap.

Thadus’ eyes flew open and where the alleged not-thief had been… was no one.

The filthy mortal vermin had run away!

– Humble One…

– No! You remain exactly where you are and you better not try anything rash. We have limited time.

– But Humble One…

– Do not test me right now. We’re in quite a hurry. Just keep an eye out for anyone who I need to remain unseen of.

– As you will, Humble One.

– Don’t sulk. Just stay in there. I won’t allow you to harm anyone.

– …

– No, not even yourself!

Author’s Note

This story is almost exclusively from Thadus’ perspective. You as a reader can agree or disagree with him, like or dislike him, but all you really receive is Thadus’ view on everything that happens.

What are the italicised sections? It’ll be revealed eventually.

I will post these sporadically. One part will usually be one scene, but might sometimes be more than that. My draft is just all of it written as a single continuous thing, and I write it without caring about chapter breaks, just scene pauses and breaks.