Fishing for information

Aurora~~Friday afternoon, 4:37 PM—Luleath Black Market.

As I was selecting the blade I’d take with me to meet our future informants, a boy who was a bit too curious for his own good was eyeing the weapons displayed on the walls. His hands slowly reached toward a crescent-shaped dagger. The look of fascination in his eyes made me swear he was thinking of stealing it behind my back.

“Don’t even think about it. Stick to the gear I gave you. I thought it was clear, but beginners aren’t allowed to fight.”

His disappointed gaze begged me to reconsider. No matter how persistent he was, his baby-fawn eyes wouldn’t have any effect on me. Being small and weak wasn’t going to earn him any pity...

“You’ve got nothing to worry about,” I added, steering him away from the wall. “We’ll never need such a weapon outside of missions.”

“Then why do you hide daggers in your boots if there’s nothing to worry about?”

“Just a precaution. You never know what to expect in a tavern. Alcohol attracts the wrong kind of people, and it takes next to nothing to set things off.”

“Really? Have you ever seen a fight break out? Are they that violent?!”

“You said it! My dealings with those folks have never been very... how should I put it? Diplomatic.”

Over time, I had given up on the idea of ever returning to a tavern. I always ended up getting involved in some shady business despite myself… Every visit, small-time thugs would strut around, practically begging for a good beating. What was I supposed to do? They’d taunt me with their crude remarks until I finally gave in!
Justine had never explicitly said it, but there was a good reason why she handled the dealings with informants herself… As skilled a mercenary as I was, my talents unfortunately didn’t extend beyond that. When it came to social skills, I was out of my depth, and Justine understood that well.

The true inhabitants of Luleath—those who had lived there long enough to become informants—had all marked me as a target, despite my delicate demeanor. I couldn’t blame them; they had witnessed some of my exploits and didn’t want such a threat in their establishment.
Edwoyn sensed there was more to say on this topic, but my gloomy expression convinced him not to dig any deeper. Once we were all ready, we left the house and headed toward the west side of Luleath. It was a densely populated area, probably the fifth-largest city in Asyria? Justine wasn’t with us because she had stayed behind at the base to meet an architect. She had wanted to expand the stables for a long time, and now that she had the means, nothing was stopping her from rushing ahead with it.

"Just a little more effort, and soon you'll be able to eat whatever you like!" I encouraged him, pointing to the city customs checkpoint nearby. "Don't you miss the palace banquets? What did you eat there? Taman roast? Fish eggs in miriande sauce? Towering desserts covered in gold leaf?"

The skinny prince had stopped to catch his breath. We had only been walking on country roads for half an hour, but for a prince who never traveled, it was far beyond his capabilities.

"It's shameful to starve people like this! If you really want to know, we mostly eat local produce at the palace. But you're not entirely wrong; I've had the chance to try more exotic things like fatoh from the Petal Isles or the famous Stardunk dark chocolate."

"Wow," I whistled. "Quite the menu!"

"Father loves to impress his guests by serving luxury dishes at official receptions. Ugh! Why didn’t we take horses to get here…?"

"It’s obvious you don’t pay for horse stabling areas in the city! And... what does the purest chocolate on the Continent taste like?"

"Honestly, it was awful. I don't know how the nobles of Stardunk can eat that stuff all day long; it burns your throat and is incredibly bitter!"

The grimace on his face as he recalled the memory was quite amusing.

"Did you think to mix it with milk to soften the taste?"

"Milk, the whitest food there is? Are you joking? I’d have insulted their entire country with that idea alone!"

"Ha ha, it's true they hate that color. It would have been hilarious to see their faces if someone dared combine the two right under their noses!"

"Try it if you don’t value your life… Good grief, let’s stop talking about food; I feel like I’m going to die of dehydration…" he groaned.

“Pfft, stop being such a wimp! Complaining won’t get you there any faster. If it helps, they say a meal tastes better after some hard work.”

Edwoyn dismissed my argument with a scowl.

“You’ll see for yourself” I added.

The last few kilometers were too much for my travel companion. He dragged his feet behind me with little enthusiasm until we were stopped by customs at the city entrance. There were always inspections of comings and goings, but in Luleath, you couldn’t expect anything too rigorous. Let’s just say that here, the customs inspectors and peacekeepers had their palms well greased…
After this formality, we took the omnibus into the city center to give his Highness’s legs a break. His spirits lifted when he recognized the canopies of the shady market streets. Remnants of the recent rain still dripped from the protective tarps, making the dirt roads muddy. I casually greeted a few familiar vendors who shot curious glances at my new companion. As one would expect from a noble, Edwoyn looked at the destitute individuals huddled at the base of the steps with clear disdain.
When there were no more homeless to look down on, he began to scour the stalls, searching for something specific. His agitation peaked as we approached the animal trader’s stall:

“Excuse me, whatever happened to your purple dragon?”

His urgent tone first offended the vendor, then elicited a laugh that shook his broad shoulders. Edwoyn waited for the answer as if his life depended on it.

“It’s you, kid?” replied the bearded man. “So you’ve become attached to Bricelius Agoroc, eh? Don’t worry, I just left him in his cage at the warehouse. There wasn’t enough room for him in the cart today.”

Sincerely relieved, the boy calmed down and kept a respectful distance from the stall.

"Forget about that beast; you’ll never be able to buy it," I reminded him.

"Is there really no way to change your mind?"

Change my mind? I certainly wasn’t going to give in to one of his little whims. Did he seriously think he could become chummy with such a dangerous creature?

"Earn your keep, and you might be able to afford whatever you’re so obsessively craving!"

It was obvious he’d never amass enough to buy the dragon. Dragons were probably the least profitable commodity in the country, right after technological ore! Importing them from the Ancestral Forest was incredibly expensive, and since no one had figured out an effective way to tame them, they were only good for collection or devouring humans in a fighting arena. Determined, the little fellow was about to inquire about the price of the animal when I cut him off:

"Don’t pay my brother any mind; he’s a bit too curious. We’re not interested in your lovely dragon. Thank you and goodbye!"

"Of course, my dear lady! I’d be happy to do business with you if any other product catches your interest."

I snapped my fingers to silence Edwoyn before he could cause any more trouble. The boy lunged at me, and we wrestled like two children. In a few seconds, I had him pinned with an arm lock. Faced with this defeat, he lowered his gaze in frustration.

"Come on, let’s go. We’ve got equipment vendors to question. Let’s get this done quickly so we can eat soon."

Before checking with the intelligence agency on my list, I needed to verify something in this neighborhood. The usual arms dealers should know if any prohibited weapons had resurfaced in the area, so I might as well ask them. Edwoyn was surprisingly cooperative, waiting behind me while I questioned blacksmiths and spare parts dealers. Some were informants for Justine; they recognized me as her daughter and answered for a small fee without asking questions. No matter how much I offered, the results were fruitless. That was a good sign: the danger I feared hadn’t reached here yet. However, these merchants were only at the bottom of the chain…

Had some reckless souls tried to recreate prohibited weapons? From what? There were none left! Why did the heir have a power that resembled those abominations?

Hungry and not very convinced, we entered the famed restaurant with the hanging sign "The breeze of renewal" Its large mullioned windows above the flower beds prevented a clear view inside due to the backlight. It was exactly as I had expected from this place rumored to have a parallel business: completely opaque.

Their staff had better sell me worthwhile information, or this outing would be a regrettable waste of time…

As we walked through the door, I was struck by the cheerful decor and the apparent calm. The common room featured numerous round tables, a counter covered with bottles, and patrons seemed free to pin flyers to the wall. I glanced at the ceiling: it was made of old wood beams with small bird sculptures suspended between two magical lamps.

"Welcome to The Breeze of Renewal!" announced a cheerful red-haired waitress.

We made our way to the counter where inviting stools awaited us. Exhausted, my travel companion slumped onto the high stool and took the opportunity to stretch his legs.

“Hello, I’ll have a beer. What about you, Edwoyn?”

“Let’s see… Oh!” he exclaimed after reading the menu on a chalkboard. “You serve Arbate egg omelets? I really love that dish!”

“Then it’s a beer and an omelet for us! Anything else?”

“A glass of water for my brother, please.”

Edwoyn shot me a look of annoyance as he heard the lie.

“Of course, madam.”

Our order was served within five minutes. During that time, I sipped my beer and studied the advertisements plastered across one wall: “Magic solves all your problems! Need a versatile specialist in magicology to repair your artifacts? Starting at 140sf, hire independent magicians graduated from the Court Academy! Contact us at 386xxxx4-R or visit the Regata Agency, 24 Mirage Street, Luleath.”

“Flea market at Swan Square organized by the Arkanda Merchant Guild on Tuesday, 12 Cantakion. Clothes, jewelry, artworks, exceptional antiques… Discover a wide variety of second-hand items at negotiable prices! A food service will be available on-site…”

I began fiddling with the straw in my half-empty glass while waiting for Edwoyn to finish eating. When the waitress returned, I planned to ask her to introduce us to her informants. But before that, I had plenty of time to kill, and I wasn’t sure how to occupy it. The inspection of the surroundings had been brief, as there were hardly any patrons—just a handful scattered across four tables. From eavesdropping on their conversations, I could tell there was a first group discussing work, a second on a romantic date, and the last two were friends out for a relaxing time. They were just ordinary civilians who probably didn’t know that this tavern was a cover for an information trade.

Quickly growing bored, I sprawled inelegantly across the wooden counter. The seconds stretched endlessly. The silence was broken by the distinctive creak of the restaurant door. The newcomers made more noise than a henhouse in chaos. Their heavy footsteps dragged across the floor, and their gravelly voices drowned out all others. I didn’t turn around. These disruptive elements would leave after getting sufficiently drunk to forget their lousy day. They stopped—quite conveniently—right next to us. I heard three stools being pulled out abruptly. I still didn’t give them a glance, remaining stubbornly immersed in my boredom. Such brutes weren’t worth my attention, believe me.

“Hellooo, is anyone here to serve this place? We want to grab your strongest booze—got something to celebrate today!”

The burliest of the three laborers pounded on the counter to show his impatience. Unfortunately, his gesture didn’t summon any staff.

“Ugh… Another useless waitress on duty! grumbled his companion, who had safety glasses perched on his forehead. Just good-for-nothings, these women…”

“What were the chances of running into this stupid noble’s mutt, Bertou’?”

The last of the gang had shaved sides and a very angular chin. Their muscular arms were likely the result of extensive physical labor, probably related to their work in handling.

“I don’t know. Anyway, he had no business on the site, so these noble idiots won’t complain that their mutt’s collar is missing!”

Number two snorted through his nose while adjusting his glasses on top of his head.

“What kind of fool noble spends his money on gold collars for mutts? He should’ve put a tracker on its tail!”

“Forget it, who cares? Think about what you’re going to do with all that cash!”

“We’re splitting it, right, Bertrand?” Number three chimed in. “I helped you catch the beast; that stuff’s really worth a lot!”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry, there’s enough for the three of us…”

“Hey, check out this kid, guys!” Number two said. “That can’t be beer, can it?”

“I don’t know any other drink that’s the color of piss served in a bar! What a joke: she’s drinking beer even though she’s too young to be married to a noble brat!”

Following this derogatory remark, the three idiots in work clothes began to laugh openly.

Oh no, not again… I thought with frustration.

I turned slightly away from them to ignore their presence. Avoiding their provocations seemed the most sensible course of action. I think it was when ‘Bertrand’ laid a heavy hand on Edwoyn’s shoulder that I reached my breaking point.

“Hey, bro, how about you let us have your sister for a bit? I think she needs a good life lesson.”

The little guy, clearly outmatched by the burly one, froze in a mix of confusion and embarrassment. He flapped his mouth, but no coherent words came out. Finally, his frightened eyes pleaded for my help.

“Come on, I like rebellious girls! We could have some fun together!” Number three added, leering at me in a way no one had ever dared before.

By the black swan, that was the extra crown! I couldn’t tolerate their ridiculous provocations any longer. Whatever they were celebrating, I was determined to ruin the mood. I stood up and, with a swift motion, hurled the remains of the hot omelets into number one’s face.

Don’t touch him. You’re so corrupt you’ll taint him.

The plate shattered with a loud crash at our feet. All heads turned our way, but none of the onlookers had the courage to intervene.

“What the hell is your problem?!” roared number two, tensing up.

“I can’t stand assholes like you who think they’re above everyone else. Get out of my sight.”

Bertrand wiped his face slowly with the back of his sleeve. The heat from the food had reddened certain areas of his face. He stared at me for a long time without speaking. His rage spoke for him.

Deciding that I had nothing more to do with these people, I turned my attention to the collection of bottles arranged behind the counter, waiting for them to clear the floor. But of course, I wasn’t naive enough to believe that a chauvinist would quietly accept being put in his place by a woman. There was a 50/50 chance he would ignore his common sense and seek to have the last word. For once, I decided to let him choose the outcome of the evening.

“Guys, help me grab her. We’re going to take care of her in our room, this cheeky little virgin is just asking for it.”

I should have listened to you, Justine...

The moment his disgusting mitten grabbed my wrist, I twisted his arm and performed a castration maneuver. My target bent over in a beastly groan due to the pain, exposing all his weak points. That’s when I instinctively grabbed one of my backup knives and slid it under Bertrand’s neck.

How annoying it is not to be able to kill in public!

“Move away or I’ll slit his throat.”

I had reacted so quickly that no one could say what had happened. The two other men who had started moving towards me froze immediately. Trying to free himself, my hostage shuffled his feet, but they just slid uselessly on the dirty planks.

“So, how does it feel to be in the virgin’s place? To know that every part of your body is at my disposal?” I whispered in his ear.

I could feel his skin shivering and fear eating him from within. He had just realized he had picked the wrong person to mess with, and that this mistake would likely cost him his life.

Firstly, he had no right to touch my property.

Secondly, I wasn’t one of those girls doomed to be docile wives.

Thirdly, trash like him didn’t belong in this world.

I had at least three reasons to cast a poison spell on him. Preferably with a delayed activation, because if he mysteriously died once he got home, no one would question it.

Edwoyn tried, confused, to stammer something. Unfortunately, it was too late for me:

“One move, and you’ll be the one losing your head,” a familiar voice warned me.