It was early the next morning, still later than Gram usually got to the office, but still early. He sat on a bench near the docks, slowly nursing a flask of coffee and pecking away at a sandwich, waiting for the ships to come in for the day.

It was hard to know the best place to park himself while waiting, but he figured the center port of the three main ports would be the best. Most of the passenger ships came through this port and failing that, the industrial port was within eye shot. The military port behind him and out of sight might have been important too, but even with his ID and pass he couldn’t provoke an opportunity to sit over there for too long.

He spoke to the harbormaster earlier that morning to see when the ships would come in and he said it depended on the ships, though they usually came in force at around breakfast.

Gram waited and true to his word, the ships came in when he finished is sandwich. He scanned the crowds with the diligence afforded to a man being paid a mint to do practically nothing. He took notes on everyone that seemed interesting, any small cargo or baggage that was taken off, even the crew when it caught his attention. Once the first ship came and went, the second took its turn, and then the third, and so on until he had filled his pocket book with all the interesting people he might have noticed and all the small gossip he overheard.

Without much to go on, it was hard to figure out what was important and what needed to be filtered out. It wasn’t until lunch that the passenger ships stopped coming in one after another. He was about to wrap up when a smaller boat came into view. It wasn’t the same kind that he had grown used to seeing in the last few hours. The first sign that it wasn’t your average vessel was the size of course, but it was stranger in that instead of coming from the left or right of the port, it came dead on from over the horizon. No other boat had appeared from that angle, and as far as he was aware there wasn’t a port from the other side of the water.

It came in much faster than any other, there was no sail to boot, so the entire thing was moving under its own power. Gram had heard of some newer boats being designed that way but it was mostly for shipping.

He watched carefully as the port seemed to raise a silent alarm. Anyone who was loitering was shuffled off and anyone who wasn’t directly responsible for handling the ships was pulled back, they tried to get grab to move as well, but all it took was a flash of his new personage and they left him alone.

When the boat arrived, there was a pregnant pause. As if everyone was holding their breath for something to happen. The ramp descended from the ship and reached the ground.

Then, finally, two people appeared.

The first was a young man, late twenties. Right in that era of a young man’s life where his body and mind are trying to meet each other halfway to achieve harmony in their existence. His lanky form suggested a potential girth his body lacked, his clothes hung loosely, yet still expertly, upon him. A suit of detail and design that was made entirely for practicality, but even in that the tailor who created it breathed their expertise into it. A sign of great fortune that could not be found anywhere else. His skin was pale despite his suggestion and his hair was left short besides the whispers of facial hair his face tried to supply. All in all, it was the picture of a man who was dealt a rough hand in body and a flush in fate.

To his direct contrast, the second was a young woman. Barely an adult. A young girl with immaculate blonde hair that fell over her shoulders and a dress formed in a design and fashion that you might have suspected it was pulled from the racks of the capital's finest boutiques. As opposed to her older associate, she wore the expression of someone who knew exactly where they were and exactly what they planned on doing there. That was, except, in her eyes.

Gram was familiar with this look, or rather the lack of it, her clouded pupils that betrayed no understanding, no observation. Nothing at all. She was blind.

Despite this, she strode with confidence that not one of her peers might hope to match. Though she was flanked on either side by attendants, there was no concept of assistance from them, as if they were there more for their own peace of mind rather than hers.

Gram stopped writing and just watched as they left the ship. They spoke words he couldn’t hear from a distance. But they seemed to be in a hurry to be somewhere. The small army of mercenaries that left the boat behind them coordinated their movement, then they disappeared into the city behind him.

He had heard rumors that a lord and lady from the capital were making their way to betel for weeks now, but to see them personally was another thing all together. There were any number of reasons they might have come, the rumor mill turned like its life was on the line to find a reason for it. But the best story seemed to be some kind of tryst in the face of terrible family relations back home. That didn’t seem likely, though Gram couldn’t put his finger on why.

He waited for a bit longer, but nothing nearly as noteworthy happened in his time, that and because it was getting close to the time that ships would start coming in for replenishment or onboarding, so there wasn’t much to see.

Gram’s mind was cast back to the mysterious young man he spoke with yesterday. By all appearances and action, he could only assume he was one of the investors. But the way he acted was very odd among them. He already knew what he wanted to hear, already had things prepared before being told about them, and already had directions prepared before he ever knew they were needed.

It was suspicious, he had no illusions to that reality, but the amount of coin he had already taken meant that he had his foot in it already. Trying to squawk to anyone of importance could lead to a bare water nap.

It was at this moment that he first felt his stomach rumble. The pseudo-stakeout he had been on all morning had been fueled on a single sandwich, so he stopped on his way back to the office to pick up something for lunch. He walked in and found a small line for the shop, not being overly in rush he decided to take a seat and wait for it to thin out.

“Can I get two of your specials?” The young man at the counter said. The woman minding the till nodded and stepped into the back.

The young man who just ordered was a bit out of place, his farmer’s tan was the first thing that caught his attention. There wasn’t much farming on Betel besides the bit they did in Sebosa to the north, but from the look of this kid it wasn’t likely he was up from that way.

Though Gram was now in the business of being professionally nosy, he didn’t relish in people watching as a hobby. Besides his outsider appearance, there wasn’t much reason to give him a second glance. But that was the thing, despite this it felt like there was something more to him.

He had developed an eye for people who stood out, whether intentionally or not. His “Interesting” radar was going off something fierce with this kid.

Beyond his appearance, he was dressed like a mercenary. Gram thought “dressed” rather than outfitted because he didn’t seem comfortable in his clothes. The armor was too new and clean, and his clothes were a bit less perfect, but couldn’t be more than a few hours fresh. Mercenaries had a habit of settling into their clothes very quickly, and this kid didn’t strike him that way.

Gram distracted himself with getting his lunch and against his better judgement got the daily special as well, a club sandwich. As Gram ate, he couldn’t stop taking quick glances over at the kid. He was young, still an adult, but wet behind the ears. He had a short dagger on his hip, which honestly wasn’t that surprising in this town, but something about him having it made Gram feel uncomfortable.

Just as the nerves he couldn’t identify started to get too much, he saw someone else walk inside the store. A much older man, older than himself by at least 10 years. He sat down next to the young man and they spoke quietly for a moment and the young man handed the older one an extra sandwich.

The older man was the scholarly kind, even by himself Gram would have made note on seeing him. A few of his kind had been coming through Betel in the past few weeks since the commotion on the east side of the island. The Magisters have made a point to tell people not to travel east of late, and more men like this one were appearing and heading that way regardless. If the young man was some hired muscle to keep the older man safe, then that explains how out of place he was.

A few minutes passed and the two of them finished their food and left the shop. Gram surprised himself by finding that he stopped eating in an attempt to watch them. He finished his food quickly and put down a tip as he took off.

The pair grabbed his interest like nothing else had and he didn’t know why. They seemed to be in a rush to get somewhere and he lacked such, so he followed after.

The two men walked through the streets with Gram following behind enough to stay in sight but out of mind. He followed them as far as the up town quarter, once the crowds cleared away it would have been too obvious that he was following them. He also had a feeling that they knew something was amiss as the younger man kept looking over his shoulder. Gram took the hint and ducked into an alley.

Once he wasn’t following them, he shook his head and tried to understand what was compelling him so strongly. He gave himself a few minutes to calm himself and to think clearly, he wrote some notes about the situation in his journal.

-----

On the nearby rooftops, a figure sat crouched over the side, having viewed the entire situation transpire. It’s form vacuous and unclear when viewed directly.

“It seems the center has the right scent.” The figure said to itself.

The center, you say? How very interesting. You wouldn’t happen to be making plans against me, would you?

The figure could hear a distant and faintly mocking voice in its ear. “No, that isn’t the case. I’ve a few of my own projects in the works. You can’t expect me to dedicate my whole self to your cause, considering who I am.” The figure said.

If you say so, just remember what you stand to lose if I find you are being less than totally faithful.

“There’s a thin line between being prepared and paranoid, you know.” The figure said.

You’re walking quite the tight rope yourself, you understand?

“Don’t you have something better to do than bother me?” The figure said.

Fine, I’ll leave you be. It’s not like I have much reason to bother you specifically, when I have thousands of others, some of which aren’t so sassy.

With that, the figure could feel the presence of a mind that wasn’t its own leave it’s own.

It only hoped that it’s long play might work.

It hoped that being proactive didn’t already damn them all.