Beckoned by the bell’s chime, a young high-elven attendant entered the room. His long dark green cloak trailing behind him on the ground marked him as new recruit to the noviciate of the Justiciars. The standard-issue cloak of the novice, a bit bigger and wider for his small bony structure. The attendant stiffened, his back straightened, chest puffed with a vague sense of pride to be summoned by the special investigator, even though they could be of a similar age.

“Lady Rylonvirah and ...” his words trailed as he struggled to find an appropriate term and finally settled on childe, “childe Taltil, would be assisting us with the investigation. Please lead them to their quarters. While you are at it please get them some entry brooches. They are to enter and leave the bastion undisturbed.”

Taltil, oblivious to the meaning of her newly acquired court title but still realised that something great has been bestowed upon her, bared her filed teeth in a wide grin. A smug smile settled on her face as she realised that she would be provided with some new shiny item. Her mind already wandered on how she could rub it in Maapu and Theko’s face.

The novice, if he held any reservation about Justiciar Celerim’s new company, thrust by his sense of subordination, masked his facial expression, hiding his contempt and nodded diligently.

*****

The following morning, Justiciar Celerim caught up with us. The eager enthusiasm that he carried with which he carried himself overshadowed the heavy bags under his eyes and the dryness in his lips.

“I got the information you requested. It is definite. There is a local syndicate led by Feadar. Primarily composed of humans. Seems they stopped a few big operations but their men still had a lot of coin to spend. Now how do we want to go about it?” chirped Celerim.

“Not we, I would go about doing it.” Justiciar Celerim’s face lost its charm and he looked downcast. Seeing him pouted, tugged a bit at my heart. “You are a notable Justiciar and you have an oath to keep. My means are a bit dubious for a celebrated Justiciar like you to get involved. Believe me, I am keeping your best interest in mind.”

My words had little effect on Celerim as he still maintained the remorse of a petulant child.

“I am resourceful and I carry myself well in a fight. I can be the additional muscle you need,” justified a resilient Celerim.

A resolute Celerim stood before me and would not take no for an answer. Accepting his offer was the best option, to keep him under my watchful eyes. Deny him and he would still follow and definitely do things behind my back. A mistake I learned while raising my own daughter.

“Since you are firm in your resolution, let us see through it then,” my words brought colour to celerim’s face, while I continued further, “We are going to force this Feadar to reveal where they are holding Silvaniel.”

“I took the liberty of compiling a list of their warehouses and hangouts. I will inform the task force. A coordinated raid operation should be sufficient.” Like troops of a forlorn hope through a breach, his words poured.

“That will not be necessary. I intend to force Feadar to give us the location willingly.” My fingers twitched on the handle of my twin swords while Taltil on my side mustered the bravest expression that she could and wore it proudly on her face. Even though the little bugbear was clueless, I was proud of her faith in me.

Celerim, for his part, drew a blank expression.

“I would need the city plans of his hideouts and also the sewer plans beneath. Taltil will check through the sewers.” I tilted my head towards the Taltil only to see her looking back at me, with her hands folded more as a sign of obedience and a happy grin that never seemed to fade.

“Taltil, “ I uttered again, “only observe, no contact. Listen to your sense, if they tell you to run, then run. No risk.” My cautions, more to do with consoling myself than warning Taltil since given her nature, it is certain that she would never attempt the unwanted risk.

Taltil nodded but after a moment of trepidation fuelled head-scratching, her wide forehead furrowed.

“So little flying elf master show Taltil, entrance?” Taltil struggled with her words and much to the astonishment of Celerim, I chuckled.

“If it helps, that is the single largest title the goblins ever provided anyone. So consider it an honour bestowed.” My hands were no longer caressing my twin swords as I relaxed my posture and placed my hand on his shoulder in a friendly gesture.

Celerim decided to play along as he did a fake exaggerated bow to Taltil, “Then I shall humbly accept the bestowed honour.”

“So tell me about Feadar’s family?” I asked while we were still in the grip of our relaxed mood.

Celerim’s expression turned to one of horror as the realisation dawned on him.

“Please Aun.... Lady Rylonvirah, reconsider. That is unethical. My sworn oath does not allow me to idly stand by.” There was an uncontrollable twitch on the muscles below his eyes as anger seared.

Why do the altmer always have to be so difficult? Rigid and orthodox.

“Actually, your presence is exactly what guarantees their safety,” I grimaced, “My original plan was to threaten Feadar and well, if he refuses to accept the offer, prove to him that I meant business.”

Justiciar Celerim Stormaire became pale as the colour drained from his face. A horrid expression took control of his facial muscles and he shook himself multiple times while still processing the implication of my statement.

“You are...” he stammered in fear and disgust, “not what I expected. I was warned about the drow methods but this is far beyond my ability to tolerate.”

“Is Silvaniel not the victim here? You would sacrifice the life of an innocent to uphold your oath? You don’t care if another life is lost as long as your hands are clean. “

Justiciar Celerim refused to look me in the eyes and fidgeted uncomfortably with the silver buttons of his doublet. Finally, when he mustered the courage to speak, his voice came as a squeak.

“Please no violence then. No bloodshed. Absolutely no bloodshed. Please promise me.” He reiterated his words like a possessed man wrestling with cognitive dissonance.

“If it eases your fears, I do not relish in unnecessary bloodshed.” I took his hand in my palm and clasped it gently with my other hand.

“You might want to focus on Loshan, that is Feadar’s second son. On the record, at least,” slowly uttered Celerim as if not trusting his own actions,” a brawns over brains kind of person. Easily provoked and quickly prone to violence. Fancies himself as the greatest lover the city has ever seen.”

“Definitely not alone, I take it.” my cynicism spilt over.

“Always guarded, but this is not your first time.” He did not dare to look at me, his eyes darting elsewhere.

“But not everywhere, “ I countered, “tell me, which pubs and brothels does he frequents?”

“I will get you those details,” without waiting for a confirmation from me, Justiciar Celerim inhaled deeply, his nostrils flared as he clenched his fists tight, and then he turned and walked away.

*****

The Mingling Door was a stylish yet dubious tavern in Sarenthill. The exterior was well lit and the locality seemed like the ideal place to relax in all of Sarenthill. Bright lights lined along the paved streets, well patrolled by city guards as well as private mercenaries in the employment of the rich and powerful. The multi-storeyed building plan betrayed its purpose as a simple tavern.

“Apparently, Loshan fancies himself a player and a hunter. Likes to chase his quarry. This is where he likes to hunt.” spoke Justiciar Celerim from our location outside where we waited for our target. He spat out every word, the target of his anger was uncertain.

It was just the two of us. Taltil extracted herself from our company to complete her mission beneath the city, in the sewers, where the unwanted and undesired of Sarenthill thrived.

A fleeting moment later, a familiar slender figure glided through the street, accompanied by a new short person hopping, trying to catch up with their tall companion. The shorter companion attempted to elicit a response from their taller companion, while the tall slender figure gracefully ignored the other party’s persistence and delicately sauntered without a worry. For a casual observer, the scene might remind anyone of a familiar night scene in any big city. A suitor pestering a lone maiden on an evening. Had they known the identity of the slender figure, they would have realised how wrong their initial assumption was.

“Lady Rylonvirah, it is you. isn’t it?” broke the voice of Syrune through the dark. The mage’s ability to infer my presence in the dark was impressive but considering the fact that they were able to ascertain Vitalia, it would have been a simple feat.

As if gyrated by their genuine excitement, I stepped out of the shadows.

“Good to see you, Syrune?”

“I am Colby, by the way. That is what everyone calls me. My parents too. My friends too. Even Syrune calls me that. You can call me that too if you want to be my friend. You can call me Colby even if you don’t want to be my friend.”

The speaker, their voice and attitude stayed true to their age, that is to say, the mysterious small person bothering Syrune was a child. His eyes darted all over as if everything was interesting. The innocence of a childhood brimmed within Colby and with it, the negative qualities of impatience and extreme curiosity in equal measure. Colby dusted his cloak and rubbed his palms to fend off the cold and started looking around.

Cautioned with my previous unfortunate encounter, I peered my eyes, searching Colby’s face for any hint of racial identity. Baby fat around the cheeks, big wide eyes, no receding hairline of any sort and definitely no sign of facial hair.

As if triggered by my cautiousness, Syrune cleared the throat and when Syrune finally spoke, the husky voice spread like dark velvet.

“My apologies for the young gnome’s behaviour. Colby is still young and impatient,” uttered Syrune and after a bit of thought added, “and annoying.”

“I am not annoying, you are the one who is brooding over things. We could be doing multiple things together, revolutionizing theories and building automatons, but you just had to ignore everything.” pouted Colby.

“While I appreciate of your enthusiasm, young gnome,” at last spoke Celerim who taking my cue, stepped out of the shadows,” I ask myself the question, is it an appropriate time for a young one such as yourself to be outside?”

And with those simple statements, Justiciar Celerim donned the mantle of a responsible adult.

“Nothing wrong with nighttime.” denied Colby.

Celerim’s eyes laid on Syrune and guided by an unforeseen emotion, a frown formed on his lips.

“And might I ask why you brought this child out at this time?” questioned Celerim.

A question which brought out a burst of laughter from Colby, one which he did not bother to hide and he laughed heartily holding his belly. A varied mixture of emotions passed through Syrune’s face. The slender finger clasped the sleeve of the robe tightly as Syrune summoned all the willpower to control the emotions.

“We are not even of the same race.” bellowed Colby, without making any attempt to control his actions, “you thought Syrune was my father, oh wait, let me guess, you mistook Syrune for my mother, right?”

Colby continued his foolery without paying any heed that none of the adults was partaking in his joke.

Syrune’s face tilted towards the ground, a well of water formed in the mage’s eyes and reflected the light from the street lamps, giving the eyes a sorrowful twinkle. Syrune’s lips pulled back and the muscles of the throat jumped a bit before subsiding as the mage swallowed, an involuntary attempt to suppress their dolour.

I was dumbfounded to see the planesbender who made a cadre of mages shiver appear so vulnerable to the taunts of a child. Whatever it is, Syrune is not only complex but also has a multitude of issues to work with.

Justiciar Celerim broke me out of my brooding by stepping a step ahead and with the same eloquence with which he introduced himself to Lady Jessbeth, he went down on one foot and extended his palm.

“Justiticar Celerim Stormaire, at your service.”

Celerim might have had some good upbringing, being able to look beyond external appearances, maintaining his respect to anyone around.

Syrune’s movements were arrested by gigantic invisible threads of hesitations and hence no hand was offered to the kneeling Justiciar but the gloomy veil of sadness lifted from the mage’s face. In its place, a different collage of emotions danced.

“Our task at hand awaits.” I broke the spell of awkward silence with my words.

As if shocked into reality, Syrune broke whatever curse that held the mage tongue-tied.

“Ah yes, Lady Rylonvirah. I take it that you are indeed preoccupied with rescuing the poor girls. If I may be honest, I never thought that the Justiciars would take the matter so seriously when I reported. Thank you Lord Stormaire for standing up.” elucidated Syrune as a clueless Celerim and Colby raised their eyebrows in unison.

“May I suggest that we find a calm place to share a drink? The streets are hardly the ideal place for this sort of conversation.” I finally suggested what I should have done in the first place.

*****

The four of us sat at an empty table in a quiet bar.

Syrune ordered a pitcher of warm herbal tea much to the chagrin of the pretty waitress and the barkeeper. The decision, having less to do with obstinancy and more to do with preventing the ever-curious Colby from experimenting. Celerim followed Syrune’s example and ordered himself a spiced and aroma infused herbal mixture. A mug of cider stood in front of me.

“If I understand you correctly, you are trying to find those vile scums?” asked Syrune for the seventh time since we entered the bar.

“Yes, but not directly. Organisations like these are deep-rooted and complex. Cannot be uprooted in a single day. We are just trying to get to the bottom of the issue.” I elaborated.

“But our current concern is to isolate Loshan, even if he is in the company of his guards, it is a public tavern.” exclaimed a concerned Celerim with doubt.

“I don’t know what the fuss is about,” intercepted Colby who shifted restlessly in his seat while looking directly at me, “if you want to isolate that man, you just have to go an attract....”

Frozen in place by my deep piercing gaze, Colby held his tongue halfway through what he supposed was his brilliant plan.

“You may not want to complete the statement.” I warned the young gnome. My anger seared from within and permeated my words.

Colby looked at the other two for support and finding none, took refugee with his rebellious attitude.

“Fine, if you don’t want to do it, then send Syrune. I am sure he can do it better. “ screamed Colby like a petulant child, which by the way, he is.

His tantrums attracted a look of disapproval from the other patrons in the bar. The waitress and the barkeeper were steadfast in their resolution to have our merry group evicted from their premise, only to hold themselves halfway through as they noticed the celebrated insignia of Justiciars which Celerim proudly wore on his self in public. Celerim drew in a huge breath as if reminding himself to exercise patience while his tightened knuckles paled.

“What kind of company have you been keeping? And what sort of upbringing did you have till now? Did your parents throw you in a barn when you were born? Answer me, Young Gnome.” I stood and towered over the little gnome.

“it is a great plan, got it? I came up with it. Just like all my other plans. You are just jealous because I am just a little young gnome and you are a high and mighty grown-up. “ He pouted more without looking at me directly.

“The first thing you think is about getting close to someone is to seduce them? Normal boys your age do not get these twisted ideas,” chimed Justiciar Celerim.

“Because, I am not normal, you get it? I am, like, super intelligent and brilliant. I am a prodigy even among gnomes. A genius. But none of you understands,” lashed Colby back at Celerim. His initial hesitation to not confronting me when I questioned somehow mysteriously disappeared while answering to Celerim.

“No, you are not.” Celerim’s composed voice rose while his calm resolute composure struggled under the onslaught from the cantankerous attitude of the young gnome.

I slammed my hand at the table and hoped that my action would prevent the oncoming war of attrition.

“Your plan was ill-formed, one that no adult in their right mind agrees to. For once, did you even consider Syrune’s feelings or are other people just mindless automatons and golems to you? What you just blurted out was highly inconsiderate. We are going with my plan. I will slip something into his drink and let us ambush them when they rush out.” My voice stammered, but with my fervour renewed, I stood my ground.

“But,” objected Justiciar Celerim as expected, “We decided on no unnecessary bloodshed. Furthermore, it is uncertain if we can still successfully succeed in the chaos. The plan was to isolate Loshan, not weaken and ambush.” He kept his arms crossed across his chest and furrowed his forehead.

“Too much chance of failing. How would you get close to him? How fast will it work? Unpredictability is all this plan is.” argued Colby aggressively.

Suddenly, like a ray of sunshine through darkened clouds, Syrune’s pristine voice cut through our midst.

“I will do it.” the mage declared with a firm resolute expression.