-Part One-

  Chapter One

  Trail, Errors, and Imperial Coin

  It was early morning when the half-elf surreptitiously arrived at Jane’s room. With a little luck, the Matron would still be sleeping, granting him some time alone with her. Theo knocked lightly, hoping to avoid disturbing anyone on the first floor. With his acute ears, he heard the shoeless feet of Jane dance timidly from within.

  “Theo, is that you?” Jane whispered beyond the door. Theo tapped the door twice in answer.

  The door slowly opened, and for a fleeting moment, her rich brown eyes captivated him as always. Eyes caught between the emotional lovers of fear and excitement. She moved aside to let him in allowing him to breathe in the pleasant aroma of the room and catching the warm lit sunrise through an open window.

  Locking the door, Jane whirled. “What are you doing here?” she asked, smirking. Ever since they were children, Theo’s complete disregard for following the Matron’s rules had always stirred a giddy sort of thrill in her.

  The half-elf gave an uninterested shrug then leaned back against her vanity table where several coloured vials stood sentry. “Maybe I just came to see you?” He suggested, flicking a thick curl of auburn brown hair from his eyes. She examined him suspiciously until Theo was forced to look away. He then took one of the perfume vials that suddenly grabbed his attention, tossing the vial from one hand to the other in feigned interest. He hadn’t planned this far ahead, simply getting into her room undetected was challenging enough.

  “It’s that guild, isn’t it,” she said in a hollow voice, “That’s why you’re here?” There was a long pause between them until Theo looked up darkly. The sound of betrayal on her words pained him, but he’d already made his decision on the matter.

  “Matilda said you and Leo found someone from a guild and that he frequents here of late. I need to know his name, Jane—what he looks like.” Theo said flatly.

  “And you came to me because you knew Leo would turn you down?” She spat. He could tell she was silently cursing Matilda’s loose lips from behind the mask of anger. Theo looked down, offering his silence as atonement for the minor deception. He foolishly underestimated her insight, hoping instead to get his information covertly.

  “You don’t need to do this Theo,” she begged, her sudden fiery rage melting in an instant, “you’re going to get yourself hurt, or worse, killed. These people, this guild—well, they’re dangerous men, Theo! Not some band or brotherhood.”

  Theo felt his palms press painfully around the corners of the blue perfume vial in his hand. He didn’t want to upset Jane, but the voice of his dead mother drifted up from some dark fringes of his mind.

  “Life is a bottomless pit with a short-thatched roof, Theodor. We have enough here. Others in the world have much less.”

  The denial in her words seemed to echo through Jane who wouldn’t come to the realisation that they were trapped here. Maybe it was Margret’s brainwashing that convinced his mother and Jane work at a whorehouse was the best life could offer them. Theo refused to believe it and only wished he’d convinced his mother as much.

  “I know what they are!” Theo snapped loudly, causing Jane to anxiously glance at her door. It was her subtle reminder he wasn’t supposed to be in here. Hushing his voice, he leaned in, “The same way I know what Margret is. We’re as good as slaves here.”

  He turned his back on Jane, placing the perfume vial back at its post on the vanity table. “I will earn my freedom.” He said absently, more to himself than Jane. Small hands glided around his back to then unite over his stomach. He felt her small body press against him, her natural scent blended with perfumes and oils smothering him more than the embrace ever could.

  “We’ll earn our freedom together. Just not this way.” He felt her muffled words against his back. Then he tensed and his ears perked up. Footsteps were approaching the chamber from outside, already alarmingly close. Someone; perhaps the Matron herself, was almost at Jane’s door.

  Theo broke free of Jane’s embrace swiftly, parting the hands that comforted him. Jane’s momentary confused expression was washed away when she read Theo’s face. She couldn’t hear the approaching footsteps on the account of having human ears, but to a half-elf, the footsteps were becoming heightened stomps. Jane pushed him wide-eyed and afraid, guiding Theo to the open window leading outside.

  He could hear the intruder trying to enter despite not knocking. Only the Matron would be so bold he thought. Almost to confirm his suspicions, a set of heavy knocks erupted like the beating of a war drum followed by the unmistakable voice of Margret.

  “Jane! Open this door at once.” The matron demanded.

  Theo vaulted over the windowsill with a springy hop and hung suspended. He was on the first floor, so a somewhat cautious descent was necessary. Jane leaned out after him, her long brown hair a pair of drapes hooked behind small ears. When she turned to leave, Theo grabbed her arm, unable to depart before he had what he needed.

  “What’s his name?” He asked and at first, he thought she would refuse him, but his unmistakable determination must have been obvious. Her face contorted under the stress of it all.

  “The name’s Pyro and he’ll probably visit tonight.” She answered reluctantly, tugging her hand free. The sound of keys being scratched at the lock caused Jane to glance worryingly over her shoulder. Theo used the opportunity to raise himself up and plant a kiss on Jane’s cheek without her expectation. The gesture stunned her for a moment, and Theo stared into those deep brown eyes absorbing the early rising sun one last time before another knock thundered, this one loud enough to snap Jane back into reality. She quickly turned and moved to the door.

  “I’m here Matron, just getting dressed,” Jane called out. Theo descended with ease, observing the establishment’s walled gardens below.

  They were empty, thank the three fortune Gods! He landed deftly on an archway supported by pair of stone pillars. There was a sound of a harp string being thrummed from somewhere distant. Theo took a breath, feeling his heart returning to normal, and approached the establishments ground floor, not looking upwards for fear he might see Margret jeering down at him from the window. He passed through the main room which was opened to let the warm air filter out, pinching at the loose fabric stuck to his chest. The summer looked to be a fierce one this year despite Leeside’s relatively cooler climate.

  “Margret was looking for you,” said a feminine voice. Theo turned to notice Matilda busily clearing a table of empty mugs which she collected on a large metal tray supposed to look like real silver, which Theo knew to be merely polished nickel. Matilda was one of the youngest at the Red Maiden, closely followed by Jane and himself. Her copper hair set her apart from the usual girls, making her a distinctive asset to the brothel.

  “Did Margret check the cellar?” Theo asked.

  “No.” she answered, already understanding the question for what it was, “But she’s no fool, Theo. If you keep following Jane around all day, she WILL do something rash. I overheard her saying she was going to sell you to one of the other houses.”

  Theo scoffed. As much as Margret liked to think she did, she did not legally own Theo. Partly because slavery was illegal on this side of the pond and had been for over one-hundred years, and partly because Theo would rather die than leave Jane behind in this cesspit. Intuition told him that she wouldn’t simply throw him out considering his mother’s debt still hung around his neck like an invisible noose. If there was one thing Margret couldn’t discard willingly, it was untapped coin. And every Imperial Mark his mother owed now fell on Theo to pay.

  “Let Margret rant and rave all she wants.” Theo said, moving across the floor to the bar. “If she asks where I was—”

  “You were in the cellar, I know.” Finished Matilda. This wasn’t her first time covering for the half-elf.

  Theo moved behind the empty bar, pulling at the cold iron hoop connected to the trap door in the ground. Pleasant cool air kissed at his skin as he descended into the darkness below. The cellar was quiet, except for a scurrying rat that retreated into its hidden hole on his approach. Theo felt the drop in temperature cause gooseflesh to appear across his skin. Down here a man usually required a candle, perhaps a lantern. Theo, however, needed only seconds for his half-elf eyes to adjust to the dark.

  Wooden kegs lined the cellar, leading to a small display of wines. A wine bottle lay freshly smashed; its contents forming a small puddle and filling the room with a pungent smell. It might have been the careless work of Leo, but Theo had no way of really knowing. No doubt he would be blamed for it regardless.

  Theo lifted one of the heavier kegs over one shoulder and ascended back up the heavily inclined ladder. The heavier the keg, the more discomfort and sweat it would cause him, which might in-turn cool off some of Margret’s rage when she next saw him; a consistently successful strategy he’d learned growing up under her roof. From an early age Theo discovered that if Margret ever saw him slightly content, she would punish him in some way. Why she felt this hatred towards him was a mystery, but he assumed it dated far before his adolescence.

  By the time he had wrestled his keg up the ladder, he was startled to notice the floor had filled with half the workforce.

  “Tonight is money night!” Boomed a voice over the awaiting crowd. “Matilda, Jane, Arrowsmith, and Mirella will be working the floor tonight. We’re a little lighter than usual but you’ll manage. Jerimiah, Leo, Roland, working protection. Jessica and Theo working the bar.”

  Theo planted the keg on the bar with a heavy thud, attracting the eyes of everyone. The group parted revealing Margret. She cast a suspicious look over at Theo, who pretended to be busy. Jane was present, but her eyes seemed interested only with the ground at her feet. The slightly flared cheek she now wore caused guilt to coldly run through him.

  “Drinks are to be sold at weekend rates, no exceptions.” Margret finished.

  Theo unconsciously grimaced, anticipating the list of offhand slurs he would be forced to endure throughout the night when informing his patrons of this increased rate. ‘Swamp blood, sharp ears, and half breed’ were in fashion lately.

  “Where have you been?” Margret hissed as she drew close to him. Theo pretended to be struggling mightily with the keg which he lifted upright.

  “Cellar.” He answered feigning great labour, “I think we have a rat.” he added in an attempt to distract her while he thought of an alibi. Jane’s room was strictly off-limits to Theo after all.

  He felt a bolt of pleasure when Margret straightened to the word ‘rat’. Anxiously she looked around the bar for any eavesdroppers. Rats were the last thing a proprietor wanted to hear on any given day. Theo buried the smile that wanted to creep across his face.

  “How could you have let a rat in?” She growled under her breath. Before Theo could cast his rebuttal, a raised hand cut him off. “Just get rid of it.” She added, then left before he could respond. Theo surrendered his desperate smile out of eyeshot. Anything that got Margret in a twist was remarkably enjoyable.

  The girls went about preparing the floor for the day's first guests, which would be trickling in when the establishment opened. The Red Maiden sold everything under one roof, including freshly caught seafood from the docks, cool beers, ciders, wines, spirits, and most predominantly of all was the pleasures of the flesh. A service Theo himself was expected to fulfil—if any client was interested.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Theo’s earliest memories were in the Red Maiden. And all his future memories will continue to be unless he was able to make enough coin to break free. He was the product and result of the place. His mother birthed him here, raised him here, died here. If Theo didn’t succeed with his current plan, he feared he’d suffer a similar fate. Tonight, the coin of fate spun morosely in the air. On one side was freedom and all the possibilities that possessed, on the other: nothing but servitude to Margret and her poisoned establishment.

  By mid-afternoon, the Red Maiden greeted its first guests. Jerimiah and Roland worked the doors, barring entry to those who were clearly drunk or too poor, while Leo kept an eye on the patrons inside as they began to indulge themselves. Theo watched the patrons filter in, stealing glances at Jane, who currently helped serve tables. She had said this Pyro fellow might make an appearance tonight, but Theo had no idea what the man looked like.

  Margret entertained some of the more prestigious guests; rich nobles who could often be found generously filling the place’s coffers on a weekly basis. Jessica, a quiet girl with hair as golden as the sun, was too young to fulfil all the obligations set by the house, but not too young to serve drinks. Like Theo, she was an unplanned consequence from the indulgences offered here, born only a few years after he was.

  “Two chips for a mug of beer?!” cried a customer. “You must be ‘avin a laugh. It was one chip just last week!”

  Jessica seized up at the bulbous man’s outburst. Leo was already headed to the disturbance, hand hovering over the iron-ringed baton on his waist.

  “It wasn’t a weekend last time you came in,” shouted Theo, with enough wroth to be heard from down the bar. He remembered how intimidated he felt at her age, and how some men saw that as an opportunity for a cheap pint. “We increase the prices on weekends to keep the riff-raff out. Are you riff-raff?” He added.

  The comment stunned the man who swayed slightly from side to side, clearly contemplating whether he considered himself riffraff or not. Leo leaned in behind the man to hear his answer. The riff-raff looked at Leo, clearly intimidated by the bouncer’s athletic physique, and swallowed heavily.

  “Bhaa.” The patron barked, choosing to keep his teeth rather than the extra chip, which he then threw on the bar. Two small rectangular pieces of electrum slid across the bar before Jessica scooped them up in a tiny hand.

  “I’ll be ‘avin words with the proprietor about this.” The man protested.

  “You’re free to do so, she’s right over there.” Offered Theo, gesturing at Margret, who sat among a table of rich nobles, still completely unaware. The man looked over and for the second time, looked intimidated by what he saw. Theo did not blame him. Approaching such a table to complain about two chips seemed ludicrous. The man reluctantly took his beer and rested his backside on a stool.

  The morning churned on into midday as the people came and went. Food was now being served at the Red Maiden, filling the establishment with fragrant aromas such as sea salt and vinegar. Margret pompously advertised her food's freshness as if freshly caught seafoods were a rarity in a coastal city like Leeside. She even claimed her foods were ‘aphrodisiacs’, a term he himself had never heard of, and assumed she’d picked it up from one of her refined friends. Apparently these foods are blessed by Amor; the Goddess of love, who graced certain foods with her unyielding lust. Theo believed this to be hogwash, likely invented by greedy sea merchants attempting to sell more of their wares to the na?ve and foolish alike.

  Theo wiped the back of his hand across his forehead, while some of the girls fanned their faces. The bouncers at the door were offered little in the way of relief below their boiled-leather jerkins except a waterskin. Seagulls took the role of aerial bards, filling the city with their songs and cries.

  “Oi.”

  Theo looked up, noticing a sinister smirk spread across Leo’s face. He wondered if this was about Jane when Leo nodded towards the two who had just entered. One was a man dressed in garments of midnight blue; tall, lean, and youthful. Beside him was a woman holding one arm.

  Most notable to Theo was the woman’s fiery red hair that seemed to flow out like active streams of lava. Her faultless figure seemed the work of a master craftsman, intended to attract the eyes of all. Which is something she did effortlessly as she moved to her seat, all the while wearing a smile that all men were accustomed to, especially those acquainted with the more suggestive ladies in Leeside.

  “How did he end up with a girl like that?” Asked Leo as the couple found an unoccupied table.

  “He’s a magus,” stated Theo, polishing a mug. He didn’t know the man per se but had seen him frequent the Red Maiden many times before, each time with the same woman on his arm. At first, Theo wondered whether the lady would find it an offense accompanying their partner to a brothel of all places. On the contrary, however, the fiery red woman seemed to be the one orchestrating the night if Mirella could be believed.

  “How’s that then?” Leo said, frowning. Theo returned to the conversation, having been temporarily lost in the women’s eyes; eyes which seemed to glow like polished rubies.

  “Look at the bloke’s eyes and you’ll notice how they glow. That’s retained Sphene dust. All magi are known for it.”

  Leo scoffed, still unconvinced. Between the man’s attire, sparkling blue eyes, and the women’s parallel appearance, the two looked like conduits of ice and fire.

  “You mean to tell me that runt’s got blue blood?” Leo asked. Theo shrugged; certain he was correct but unwilling to get into a debate about it. He didn’t think mentioning to Leo that he’d actually seen the man conjure magic one time would silence his scepticism. Magi were rare, often performing in roles befitting their power, usually military. Theo had often wondered what a Magus was doing in the Red Maiden. But the young man was polite enough and always paid without any issue. Perhaps he was just passing through under the Luposian Empire to Iradrin. After all, Theo had heard talk about Magi being sent as emissaries to the Sunland Sands across the Delaric Sea. He doubted if any of the other workers--or even Margret for that matter--knew they had a Magus under their roof. If she did, it is certain she would employ some line of credit on his behalf.

  “You’re pulling my leg, elf-boy. There’s no way he’s a Blue Blood.” Leo then shook his head before continuing his patrol, likely attempting to get close enough to peer into the supposed Magi’s eyes.

  More people entered, filling the floor with endless laughter, chatter, and heckles. Theo got so busy tending the bar, which now had several customers competing for drinks, that he was unable to track the people that came and went. By late that afternoon, he had almost forgotten about Pyro and the mission. As if to remind him, Jane appeared at the bar, her cheeks flushed. Theo anxiously surveyed the room in search of Margret but didn’t find her at the noble’s table.

  “She’s upstairs,” Jane said after reading his observation, “and Pyro’s here.”

  Theo froze, feeling his heart lurch up into his throat.

  “Where?” he demanded.

  “He came in about an hour ago, but I couldn’t tell you while Margret was on the floor. He’s sitting near the gardens facing the bar. Nasty scar on his face; you can’t miss him.”

  Before Theo could express his thanks, she was off with a platter full of mugs. And just in time too as Margret swiftly returned to the floor. Theo cautiously threw a look over at the open gardens, observing Pyro for the first time. To say the man had a nasty scar was putting it lightly. The entire left side of the man’s face was nothing more than a scorched mess. Theo guessed Pyro must have incurred the wrath of a Magi or dragon to end up looking so scarred. His palms grew sweaty unsupported by the heat outside and a lump was growing in his throat.

  Pyro was eating a large platter of oysters, which he slurped awkwardly through the good side of his mouth. His eyes seemed fixed on the red woman that accompanied the magus. When his metallic mug grew empty, Theo seized the opportunity and left the bar to replenish it. He all but felt Margret’s eyes glare at him from the edge of his periphery. However, when she saw him approaching the table with a full pitcher of ale, she resumed the conversation with her aristocrat.

  When he was but four strides from Pyro’s table, he felt his legs turn to lead. The floorboards beneath his feet suddenly grew sticky, as if they themselves were trying to impede his progress. He paused at Pyro’s table, placing the full pitcher of ale down with a shaken hand. If he were honest, he feared he would have dropped it otherwise. Pyro flicked a finger at him whilst maintaining his sights on the Magus and red woman. After a few seconds, Pyro erupted as if agitated by Theo’s continued presence.

  “What’d you want boy?” He barked.

  Theo took a moment to marshal his unorganized thought, unable to formulate the words that rolled around his mind like juggling rocks. He’d thought this would be easy, but now that the time had come, no words would escape his lips. It reminded him briefly of being in Jane's room. The scarred man’s gaze finally shifted towards him, the impatience within them was unmistakable and seemed to sober him up.

  “I’m Theo,” he managed at last, “I-I want to make some real money.”

  Pyro let out a scoff closely followed by a sniggering laugh.

  “You’re not my type, elf boy,” he said.

  Theo tried to keep his resolve by refilling the man’s mug, a gesture he hoped would buy him at least a brief conversation. He could feel the eyes of Margret return to his back at Pyro’s outburst. Surprisingly, Pyro scooped up the mug Theo had filled and looked sceptically at its contents. He then proceeded to throw the ale off to one side, liquid splashing audibly on the floor.

  “I don’t accept free drinks either.” He said, changing his focus back to the red woman.

  “Everything alright ‘ere Pyro?” Leo asked, reliably showing up at the slightest disturbance. ‘How did he know his name?’ Theo thought.

  Pyro seemed everything but concerned at Leo’s approach.

  “Everything’s fine, your friend was just leaving I think.” answered Pyro, still not bothering to look at either of them.

  Theo’s next move was made for him as he felt the iron grip of Leo pull him away. Still overcoming the foolish notion that he: Theo, could speak to a man like that cordially now seemed impossible. A mixture of embarrassment and anger washed over him as, just like that, it was over. His one chance to make an impression was swiftly cut short by Leo, the brothel’s bouncer.

  “Don’t go messin’ with fellas like that,” warned Leo in a hushed voice, “If that bloke wants any drinks, you let one of the girls serve him.”

  Theo frowned but gave a curt nod.

  “An’ don’t look so fucking pissed. I just likely saved you a beating from TWO people tonight. Maybe even a stabbing.” Leo looked over at Margret who bored into Theo with eyes of annoyance.

  “How’d you know his name?” Theo asked, completely disregarding the daggers cast by Margret.

  “He belongs to a crime syndicate,” Leo replied, his voice even more hushed. “A real nasty one with connections and coin. So, trust me, if I’ve heard of him, then you definitely don’t want to know him.”

  Leo grew up on the streets and was notably part of a gang in ‘Redbank’, the south-western part of Leeside known for its narrow streets and equally narrow sense of morals. Redbank made up almost a quarter of the entire city of Leeside and was guessed to house as much as half of all its citizens. The Red Maiden situated itself on the northern end of Redbank, which was partly how it got its name.

  “Now, look.” Leo went on, turning his back to the floor. The harp was being plucked again by Arrowsmith, her long fingers producing pleasing sounds that drifted around the busying establishment. “I’m responsible for the floor all night so if any fight breaks out—on your accord or not—I get part of my pay cut by Margret.”

  Theo saw the genuine concern on Leo’s face and surrendered. Perhaps he could reintroduce himself to Pyro tomorrow--maybe even catching him on the street? Or get Jane to pass on a message conveying his desire to join this guild. The idea of sending a woman, let alone Jane, suddenly made him feel sick with himself for even having the thought.

  Theo returned to the bar while Leo made his rounds once more. He couldn’t help but look up to catch a glance at Pyro who remained fixated on the magi’s mistress. Then, a coin fell on the bar, heavy and dense. Theo stared at coin before looking up to see the man that threw it. He was lean; leaner than any man had the right to be while carrying such a treasure. Despite the plainness of the man’s garb, he could not help but notice how stark black the doublet was as if purchased that very day. The man wore no jewellry; at least none on display, and possessed a neatly trimmed head of hair. His fingernails were long and very clean, implying this man hadn’t performed much manual labour lately, and not a single hair upon his shaven chin.

  Theo’s mind raced as he stared at the Imperial Mark thrown on the bar. As big and yellow as a sunrise. A single Imperial Mark was of considerable value given its purity of gold and worth well over a hundred of the more commonly exchanged chips in Leeside.

  “Pint of beer, if it pleases you.” The man said. Theo scooped up the Imperial Mark hastily, fearing it might attract the eyes of some would-be thief.

  While pouring the man his beer from the keg at the bar—which foamed deliciously--Theo could feel the Mark burning in the palm of his hand. It wasn’t only a small fortune, but an oddity. Leeside was the vassal state to the Luposian Empire. Therefore, Imperial coin was still a legitimate currency, but seldom used in Leeside. Its inhabitants preferred the older, and much more abundant electrum chips already in circulation from the previous rulers.

  When Theo returned to the wealthy customer, he received a further handful of chips from the man’s inner breast pocket. Theo felt a strange anxiety overcome him as more money was presented to him.

  “Payment for the beer.” The man said, “The mark is for your collaboration.”

  Theo fingered the two chips required for the beer from the dozen piled in his hand without saying a word. A whole mark just for him?

  The wealthy man leaned in, incurring Theo’s full attention. His pale eyes had the strength of pure iron, the pale colour making one think of unforgiving ice. Theo had never encountered such eyes before, the way they exuded such authority with only their gaze. Given the man’s attire in conjunction with his mannerisms, he was without a doubt some imperial official and not afraid to show it. His reasons for trying to bribe Theo made him nervous.

  Perhaps Margret and the Red Maiden were in trouble in some way, he thought at first. If that were true, it must be severe for them to send somebody from the Empire. Law and order were usually conducted under the Duchess of Leeside, though. For it to be passed up to Imperial power was unheard of except for attacks against the crown, or matters closely regarding the Emperor.

  “I require your eyes and ears in a matter.” The man said, “A man of your—” he glanced at the slightly pointed ears of Theo, “--bloodline should be well suited to the honour. You’ll do this task, if not for the Imperial mark in your pocket, then for the face depicted upon it. I’m sure you’re aware of which circles I influence, and the…difficulty they can produce for a whore’s son like yourself if you refuse.”

  Theo wasn’t sure whether he was being bribed or blackmailed but landed on it certainly being both. It took all his nerve to maintain eye contact with this imperial official until at last, he surrendered a nod. What else could he do?

  “Good.” The man said, taking a mouthful of beer. He grimaced as the beer went down, muttering something under his breath in a language Theo was unfamiliar with. “I’ll be in contact, Theodor Redwood.” He added before leaving swiftly, his beer barely touched. The man knew his name…

  Theo noticed the Magus give a sly smirk to his mistress as the mystery man passed their table and departed into the moonlit street.