Lending a hand (part 1)

I wish I had an uncle like that!

I only have my Uncle Fuma, Nicole's dad. If I ever tried to scold him like that, my mom would practically tear my ear off. He's a strictly no-nonsense kind of guy. Anyway, moving on. I only gave the thugs' wounds a superficial patch-up, so they'll need a proper check-up.

Preferably in a prison cell.

Let's move.

"Hey, excuse me. Um, I know someone who can deal with him," ugh, speaking out loud is so hard. "He's part of the Verra family, right? I heard an old noble doctor connected to them is being investigated for some shady stuff right now. So, it should be easier to deal with him? I think."

The three of them exchange a long, skeptical look. They stare at me, then back at each other. Sarisa blinks, her mouth opens as if she's about to raise a dozen sensible objections... She closes then opens her mouth again, hesitates, frowns in deep thought for two seconds, and then completely gives up on trying to process it. A bright, relieved smile bursts across her face.

"I mean... I hate dragging someone else into our mess, but honestly? I have zero clue what else we can do," Sarisa admits, throwing her hands up. "If we call the guards ourselves, won't they just arrest us instead? Even if Lance is a complete idiot, he's still an aristocrat..."

"Like I said, I'll take care of it," I reassure her. "The group, um, faction, fellowship, or whatever you call it that his family belongs to," I gesture vaguely toward the groaning idiot on the floor, "is already being watched closely. Or so I've heard."

I know I sound indecisive, but it's true that I only heard about it from Nicole and don't know any details.

"Well, if you insist... thank you! Seriously, thank you! We're counting on you!"

Before I can even react, Sarisa lunges forward and pulls me into another bone-crushing hug. Oh! She's so warm and soft... She smells like a country grandmother's spice box, carrying a faint, earthy undertone of dried herbs that practically every elf seems to have. Still, her dominant scent is entirely her own... Huh, interesting mix...

It's oddly comforting, and I really wish I had even half of her boundless, hyperactive energy.

"Sarisa! Don't just dump our problems on someone we literally just met!" Lenna scolds, interrupting my thoughts and crossing her arms with a sharp glare. "We should be handling this ourselves, not relying on a customer who just saved our necks!"

Sarisa pouts, puffing out her cheeks. "Okay, fine! What's your brilliant idea then, big sis? Do you want to go knock on the noble precinct door and ask them nicely not to execute us?"

Lenna opens her mouth to snap back, but freezes. Her jaw works a couple of times, searching for a counterargument that doesn't exist... Yeah, they are sisters, hehe. Finally, her shoulders slump in defeat.

Dom places a calming, steady hand on Lenna's shoulder with a mild chuckle. "I know it's not ideal, Lenna, but she seems to have a functional plan. Let's just take the help and say thank you." He turns toward the dining area, his expression turning dry. "For now... we should probably clean up." Dom gestures around us.

Oh, right... The restaurant is an absolute disaster zone. Splintered wood and shattered plates litter the ground. Come to think of it, I definitely contributed to the debris. When I seized control of that fireball, it clearly expanded. Luckily, the resulting shockwave only scorched the floorboards. And the thugs, obviously.

Ah... I didn't even get to finish eating. The lasagna was so cheesy and perfect! Maybe I can grab another slice when this is all over. Actually, that's a great excuse to come back! I can use it as a chance to get to know them better.

Honestly, it almost makes me a little grateful to Lance... at least until I remember what he tried to do to Sarisa. The warm feeling instantly sours into cold anger.

'Should I break a few of his fingers?'

... A sudden chill crawls up my spine.

I only thought about snapping his fingers as a dark joke to myself, but a wave of genuine disgust washes over me for even suggesting it. A part of me wants to punch myself in the face for being so ruthless.

"Okay, please keep an eye on them. I'll be back as soon as I can!" I call out my goodbyes, already turning on my heel and sprinting toward the castle.

I'm not entirely sure which street I'm on. Luckily, the massive castle looms over most of the capital like a glowing beacon. But sprinting down the cobblestones like a madwoman is going to draw a lot of unwanted stares, especially the closer I get to the noble district... And parkouring across the rooftops in broad daylight is a one-way ticket to getting arrested.

'I need to go faster. Stealthier. I need a more direct route...'

Wait, what? My vision abruptly cuts to pitch black.

AAAHHH!!

-----

But... huh. I don't feel lost.

It's almost like I'm swimming, but through the... air.

Except it isn't smooth air at all; the texture is thick, like I'm wading through a sea of invisible cobwebs and debris, yet my body glides forward with effortless, silky ease. It's a dizzying mess of contradictory sensations.

How utterly bizarre.

Strangely enough, I don't feel like I'm in any real danger. The sheer weirdness of the sensory overload distracts me for a moment, but as the initial awe fades, a spike of cold panic hits my chest. 'Stop. I want this to stop, right now!' Just as suddenly as I was swallowed up, I erupt from the ground like a breaching whale.

"AAAHHH!"

... Okay, I couldn't hold that one in. I don't even care if anyone heard me. What the hell was that!? Did I... did I just travel through the shadows?

'Awesome!' my inner freak screams.

'And absolutely terrifying!' Where am I?

The smell of damp stone fills my nose. I'm crouched in a narrow alleyway, and the roar of a busy crowd echoes nearby. My knees buckle. I press my back against the rough, cold surface of a red brick wall, slide down to the dirt, and hug my legs. I need a few minutes to force my racing heart to slow down and stop my hands from shaking.

Once my breathing is somewhat back under control, I push myself up, dusting off my clothes. I follow the bustling noise toward the light, stepping out onto... a massive avenue. It's a main artery of the city. The imposing, sun-drenched castle looms barely a few hundred feet in front of me.

I have no idea how far away I was before, but just a few minutes ago, I could barely make out its smaller spires, even with my enhanced eyesight. Now, it's practically sitting on top of me.

Mm... oh well. Add that to the list of bizarre magic to experiment with later.

I pick up my pace, but unfortunately, that means my ears are bombarded by the overlapping chatter of hundreds of pedestrians... Why are people so incredibly loud? I try to tune out the headache-inducing noise by studying the castle instead.

'It works... I wonder how they classify castles? Is there some kind of architectural catalog for these things?'

This one looks more like a gigantic, overblown mansion surrounded by dozens of soaring towers. It screams impressive baroque architecture. Its most striking features are the countless gleaming windows and vibrant stained glass, completely encrusted with jagged, natural crystals jutting out from the masonry. They look gorgeous catching the light!

Though if you squint in some places, it looks like a giant just grabbed a handful of raw quartz and glued them to the walls at random. I guess they must serve some magical function.

Anyway. Once I reach the main grounds, I completely ignore the grandiose entrance gates. Instead, I trace the perimeter wall to the right for a few minutes. The heavy stone wall eventually gives way to a still-impressive, but much more modest, side gate. It's guarded by four burly guys clad in shining steel armor.

... Are all guys in armor considered knights? I wonder. Or do the regular guards, soldiers, and magical police forces also wear clunky metal suits? Like, the full-body plate stuff?

They honestly don't look very practical for daily patrols. Most city guards I've seen just wear standard uniforms. Sturdy cloth paired with one or two pieces of hardened leather or chainmail. That material must have some serious defensive enchantments for them to bother wearing it all day in the heat. Or is it purely an aesthetic flex?

Mm... I hate to admit it, but Nicole is right. I really need to study up on how this world works.

"Um, g-good afternoon." Damn it, I'm falling right back into the habit of stuttering. Well, I'll forgive myself this time. Usually, there's only one lone guard posted at this minor door. I guess it makes sense they're on high alert with all the recent trouble.

The guards shift, their armor clinking loudly. "... Oh? Miss Seina. Good day to you." Just when I assumed they were going to ignore my awkward existence, one guard actually recognizes me. And, well, I sort of recognize him too. I've definitely seen his face beneath that helmet before, but I have absolutely no clue what his name is. How do people have such terrifyingly excellent memories? I tend to let names slip right out of my brain.

I'm pretty sure he's only seen me lurking around here with Nicole once or twice.

"Hi, um..." Nope, nothing. Not a single syllable of his name comes to mind. Whatever, pivot and distract. "Excuse me, but I have a bit of a situation regarding a nobleman. May I come in?" I wanted to explain the whole restaurant fiasco to them, but honestly? They look like they wouldn't lift a finger to help. They probably don't even care.

The guard glances left, then right. "... I see that Miss Nicole is not with you today."

"Right. She's at home, sleeping," I say bluntly. "I'm actually looking for Ilona today." 'Did I just completely ruin Nicole's reputation?' I wince internally.

'No, never mind. Everyone in this castle already knows exactly how lazy she is.'

Suddenly, all four guards snap their heads toward me. It isn't exactly a hostile reaction, but they instantly stiffen, their hands dropping closer to their hilts... Are they that alarmed just because I dropped Ilona's name? She should be an excellent boss, but who knows how she treats her employees.

"... Well, let me just send word that you are here," the guard says, his tone much more rigid now. "Apologies, miss, but right now, you cannot enter the grounds without Miss Nicole escorting you."

"That's perfectly fine, thank you very much." Truthfully? I'm massively relieved. I usually just bump into Ilona when she's talking to my cousin, so I've never actually set foot inside the Dark Brotherhood's department. I have zero idea where her office is. And even with my heightened sense of smell, tracking her down would be a nightmare. I highly doubt the thousands of guards, knights, wizards, servants, and literal assassins buzzing around inside would appreciate a fox girl suspiciously sniffing the hallways.

The other three guards are still staring at me like I'm a live bomb. So... I just slowly back away, lean my shoulders against the cool stone of the outer wall, and wait in awkward silence.

-----

After a good twenty minutes, the guard finally returns with Ilona.

I take a moment to look her over... She's a human woman, just an inch or two taller than me, with long jet-black hair tied back into a practical ponytail. Dark eyes sit beneath a sharp, attractive face dotted with freckles across her nose and cheeks.

She's tired. I don't have to be an observant person to see that.

Her suit is tailored and sharp, closely resembling Nicole's, but dust and wrinkles mark the sleeves, and the silver emblem of the Dark Brotherhood adorns the lapel. Between the messy hair and the rumpled fabric, she practically radiates the stress of someone who hasn't seen a full night's sleep in days.

"Seina." She offers a small, tired smile.

Honestly, she looks even more drained than my cousin. Nicole mentioned something about the higher-ups forcing her to take time off. I guess Ilona wasn't nearly as lucky.

"Good day, Ilona."

"So, what's the situation?" She pauses, rubbing her temples. "Right, good day to you too."

"Well, I'm not sure where to start... There is this nobleman named Lance. Do you know him?"

Before I can even finish the question, she cuts me off.

"Yes, I know the idiot. What did he do now, and do I need to bring knights?"

I guess the brat isn't particularly popular around here, heh.

"He and a bunch of his thugs are tied up in the street right outside a restaurant they tried to destroy."

Ilona lets out a long, heavy sigh. "Tell me on the way. You there! Gather twenty men and bring around a couple of carriages."

Wow, apparently, she is so efficient and reliable! I really wish Nicole would act like that a little more often. Actually, on second thought, maybe not.

Just a few minutes later, a full platoon of armored knights and three large carriages are lined up and ready to go.

"Okay, Seina. Which way?" she asks me as she sits down in the seat across from me in the carriage, letting herself sink into the cushioned seat without holding back.

"..."

She stares at me. I stare back at her.

"You have absolutely no idea, do you?" she smiles, but her eyes are dead and resigned. As if she fully expected this outcome.

"N-no, not exactly," I admit, pointing vaguely into the distance. "But I remember you could see the right side of the castle from the street. It was quite far away, but probably still in the central district, somewhere over... there. Once I pick up the scent, I'll let you know."

"Can you really track down one specific restaurant?" Oh, her tone is dripping with doubt. "There are hundreds of places to eat in that district alone."

"I don't think I can track the building itself, but I can definitely follow the scent of the crabsnake they were cooking."

"Crabsnake? Well, if you are that sure..."

"I'll guide us there without too many detours... Hopefully. Plus, I clearly remember the smell of Sarisa, the waitress." I start counting on my fingers, thinking back on what I thought a while ago. "She smells exactly like a country grandmother's spice box, you know? Like dried herbs, but mixed with warm butter muffins, coffee, and sun-baked linen. Then there is Lenna, the cook. She smells like garlic, cumin, oregano, and coriander, but underneath all those heavy spices, she has this very clean, natural, pleasant scent. Oh, and..."

"..."

"... Was that way too much information?"

"Yes."