Scene:

Arwen Mordecai's Office

a) Most Representative's offices are spread between three buildings. The most important figures of government, on the other hand, get an office inside the Parliamentary building.

Outside: Nils stands in front of the door carved into a magnificent black dragon, dark gold veins pulsating in the light, wings unfurled.

Inside: Enters. Immediately see a globe of the world. Above it, a portrait of six people and the dragon on the door. The door was in the leftmost corner of the rectangular room near a dartboard, and further right were two horizontally placed couches and a redwood coffee table with a gramophone atop it. Two windows were behind the couch facing the door. The curtains black and the tassels yellow. Bookshelves covered every inch of wall. Floor was carpeted dark red. At the end of the room was a pedestal desk and sitting behind it was Arwen Mordecai.

Nils stood in front of the door carved into a magnificent black dragon, dark gold veins pulsating in the light, wings unfurled. This was his last chance to turn away, to not blight his soul any further, his rational side wholeheartedly supporting the notion, but Nils knew this same side would berate him for turning a blind eye to the dealings if he left. He scoffed. Where were these principles when he was off on the battlefield slaughtering for his country? This was another battle that must be won. No matter the cost.

He knocked. "It's Nils."

*Click*

He entered.

Nils had never visited, but he heard descriptions of it from the privileged few. Arwen's office was grand in a silent way. A beautiful hand-cut globe immediately caught his attention, but it was the painting depicting the glorious ratification of the Treaty of Savez uniting dragons and humans that he stared at in fascination.

Nils checked himself.

He noticed the heavy door swung into the room, blocking his view of the inside. He stepped away and surveyed the office. The door, near a dart board, was in the leftmost corner of the rectangular room. Further right were two horizontally placed couches and a redwood coffee table with a gramophone atop it. Two windows were behind the couch facing the door. The curtains black, tassels yellow. Bookshelves covered every inch of wall and the red carpeted floor completely absorbed the sound of his footsteps. At the end of the room was a pedestal desk and a cabinet. In the center of it all sat the man. Prime Minister of Arseny. Ruler of the Nationalist Party.

Arwen Mordecai.

There was someone else in the room. Nils saw him standing in a corner. Arwen's protege and the son of Arseny's wealthiest family.

Alter Carlebach.

He closed the book in his hand and slid it into its proper place.

Nils nodded a greeting, "Arwen, Alter."

Arwen leaned back in his seat and said, "Nils. To what do I owe this visit?"

Nils presented a piece of paper to Arwen. Alter briskly walked over and took it, scrutinizing the sketch of two faces to his satisfaction. He let it slip from his hand onto the desk, frowning at Nils all the while as if wary of him.

"Who are they?" Alter asked.

Nils smiled a smile lacking in friendliness. "Wouldn't you know?"

Arwen knew the two would never spar in his office, but he gave them a warning nevertheless. "Boys. Settle down."

"Louis Mack, the other, didn't catch the name."

Nils stood at a tall six foot two, but Alter was a good two inches taller and had much broader shoulders. Arwen's long bony fingers flipped the sketch for Nils to see.

His pale eyes, like a sky on a cold day, met Nils as he pleasantly asked the question again, wanting a deeper answer than the superficial one given, "Who are they?"

"A problem that must be solved."

Arwen offered the young man a seat on the couch. He opened the cabinet of crystalline alcohol bottles and withdrew one of a dark honey colored whiskey, popped the oak cork with his bare hands and poured the viscous liquid into two diamond cut glasses. The whiskey had the texture of oozing honey but flowed like water. "Ice?" Arwen asked, clinking the bowl with his tongs. Nils shook his head and watched Arwen put three cubes into his own drink. Alter aggressively handed Nils his glass, nearly spilling the whiskey. Nils did not thank the servant boy. Arwen sat across and lifted the glass to his lips, eyebrows raising to indicate for Nils to continue. Alter, meanwhile, had moved to stand behind Arwen like an imposing knight protecting his liege.

This was a topic of great delicacy requiring Nils to convey his intention without actually saying it. The young man took a swig of his drink, feeling warmth lift words to his mouth.

"Twenty years it's been since the ceasefire began. Though the country is recovering, oftentimes wounds don't heal properly and festers germs that infect other areas until the spread becomes fatal."

Arwen swirled the glass with the tips of his fingers, "A long established stance of the medical community."

"Yes, and something must be done as the doctors prescribed." Nils searched the older man's face for a sign he understood what Nils was proposing.

Arwen's face betrayed nothing as he picked up a dart. "A gardener and a surgeon's work are quite similar. Both remove an outer layer to tinker with the innards." He threw the dart without looking and Nils didn't dare move to see where it landed.

"Do you know the crucial difference between the two, Nils?"

"I do not."

"The surgeon's work is messier. Dirt is easily replaced from where it came. Blood is not." Arwen leaned forward, "Do you understand the implications of your request?"

Nils stared into Arwen's eyes. "The problem is worsening by the day and we all know of the NP's reputation in resolving matters such as these."

He bowed his head, "This is not a request but a plea for help." The Prime Minister walked 'round the table and stood close to Nils.

He put a hand on the young man's shoulder and bent to murmur into his ear, "Consider it solved." Arwen returned to his seat at the desk.

Nils straightened, trying to keep the look of surprise and relief off his face. "Thank you, sir."

"Good night, Mr. Holgersson."

Nils, buoyed by the feeling of accomplishment and his dislike of Alter, held out his glass for the other to take, and he did, to the man's own dismay. Before leaving, Nils remembered and caught a glimpse of the dartboard.

Bullseye.