Jin stared at the piles of disorganized documents littering his desk as he waited for Evelyn. The words written in his barely legible handwriting seemed to meld together. He looked rather than saw. It was a visual representation that literally portrayed different words having the same message.

Not even half of this is meaningful, the field master thought. Just bullshit...

He'd been up the past two days dealing with more of the discontent from the populace in Forgedalk. The street work was supposed to be below his pay grade, but the field agent office lacked the manpower due to budget cuts and allocated resources around a year earlier.

You'd think they would've given us more people with that damned Siren Incident.

Jin glanced out the singular window and watched as the sun seemed to settle on top of a tall building at the university's central plaza. If Evelyn remained on schedule, then she would be making her way to the field agent headquarters by now. He hoped that the instructor she spoke with, who was also a fellow associate of the Spire, didn't hold her up with the frivolous talk their kind were privy to.

Bevka had little patience for tardiness, and Jin wanted to be on his tolerant side for their second meeting.

The first session with the disgruntled spellcaster had been more productive than Jin anticipated, but a large portion of it was clearly intended as a battle of intentions, like two spear-wielders poking at the other's defenses. Jin didn't necessarily question the man's methods, but his lack of any tactful verbiage whatsoever (likely caused by his seclusion) didn't make it easy for Jin to read between the lines. Sometimes he didn't even know if the lines were there in the first place. He started to suspect that the spellcaster derived some small amusement out of it.

Everyone needed some level of enjoyment to keep their sanity. Jin just wished it wasn't at his own expense.

In the end, it seemed that Bevka approved of the plans Jin enacted since the first High Council meeting. The spellcaster also had his own people keeping tabs on parts of the middle and lower districts of the city. He didn't state any of the aforementioned specifically, but Jin managed to get a grasp of his intelligence network based on specific word choice.

But why do old spellcasters always talk so cryptically? Jin wondered.

He massaged his temples before absentmindedly staring at the documents again. Paperwork wasn't necessarily his forte, and even if his task did require ink and parchment, he usually found other places to take care of it. There were plenty of public establishments around the city that he frequented, like a certain butcher shop in the middle district that had more of the rowdy crowd. A place like that kept certain people honest – like the ones working under Altham Volkest.

The young councilman had successfully sown discord amongst the many organizations of Tevilandis, and much of the divide concerned the outworld adventurers.

Before the High Council meetings, Jin had always thought of outworlders as like-minded protectors who thrived on the freedom to explore. He realized that notion was naive. Technically, they really were akin to invaders, but they had appeared during desperate times. He was grateful for everything they had accomplished in the few months since their arrival, but many natives had forgotten a pertinent question: Why were they here? They mentioned something about their home on the brink of destruction, but was that really all?

Jin conceded that there was some truth to what Altham Volkest said, but his solutions involved unrestricted power. This would not sit well with the country as a whole.

“Such a little shit,” Jin growled.

He crumpled one of the documents in an effort to calm himself and tossed it into the wastebasket on the other side of the room. He hoped that Bevka had some valuable insight to provide at their second meeting.

Jin's head jerked up from the scattered papers on his desk when he heard the heavy wooden door of his office let out a groan of resistance. The hinges emit a high-pitched shriek as the door scraped open halfway along the wood floor. He watched as the person wearing the familiar scarlet robe eased herself through the opening and pushed the door with an exasperated grunt. When she didn't hear the satisfying click of the door's latch she raised a foot and kicked it closed the rest of the way without looking.

Evelyn whipped the hood off her head, planted both hands on her hips and glared at him. “Will you please fix that door already? Or at least leave it open when you know I'm visiting.”

Jin feigned a contemplative pose with his laced fingers. He lifted his hands to hide a childish grin. “It's a defensive measure,” he explained. “It will slow down any attackers during a crisis. With things as they are, there could be a rebellion, assassins, disguised monsters; you can't be too careful.”

“That doesn't help if you try to get inside while you're pursued.”

Jin tapped his bad leg. “I won't make it too far down the hallway, I assure you.”

Evelyn rolled her eyes, clearly tired of the pointless conversation. “Can we move on to why I'm here?”

Jin sighed and lowered his hands to the desk. Evelyn was a hard woman to read. It was impossible to tell if she was in the mood for light banter or not with her perpetual look of indifference. He guessed that her mental fortitude was exhausted thanks to all the aimless arguments at High Council meetings.

I really do need more friends, he thought.

“Very well,” Jin said. “What did Bevka say?”

“Tonight,” Evelyn answered.

Jin arched an eyebrow at this. “He's that eager to see me again? Maybe he appreciates my sense of humor.”

“Doubtful,” Evelyn said. Jin was pleased to see a small smirk cross her features for a split-second. “There are many things he wants to discuss, but...” She glanced around even though the office was cramped and had no areas for someone to hide. There were also no other rooms adjacent that shared walls for spying. Jin suspected that she had already cast an area-of-effect spell for detecting magical obscurity.

“Best if I don't tell you here,” she whispered. “And let me at least escort you to the Spire's entrance.”

Jin cursed under his breath as he caught on. It was as he feared. The young Volkest was getting more aggressive. His people weren't just tailing them anymore.

The field master looked out the window and was surprised to see that only the fuzzy glow of the sun was visible behind the university building. “Then I suppose it's about time for me to meet Bevka,” he said, rising from his seat.

Evelyn dutifully waited for Jin to pass before following him to the door. He removed his formal coat that hung on the wall and reached into a pocket as he worked his arm through one of the sleeves. He held out a sealed envelope, and Evelyn didn't hesitate to take it. She slid it into one of the inside pockets of her robe.

Jin reached for the door's handle and hesitated when he considered the walking cane that sat propped against the wall. The polished maple was still as unblemished as when he received it all those years ago. He glanced down at the dual daggers strapped to his waist, partially concealed by his undershirt tucked in on one side.

He noticed Evelyn's questioning look when he retrieved the cane and tested his weight against it. He hated the thing, but it had several uses for their current situation.

“I don't think I've ever seen you use that,” Evelyn commented as they stepped into the hallway. “Are you finally throwing away that stubborn pride of yours?”

Jin's response was immediate, “I had it modified. I don't intend to use it for walking.”

Evelyn followed Jin through the last portcullis leading to the winding roads and bridges encircling the Spire's base. The structure was a wonder of architecture with all its swirling staircases, multilayered balconies and protruding towers. The entrance to the place was wide enough for a mid-sized squadron of soldiers standing abreast, while its height would easily admit an ogre with an extra few feet to spare.

The last bit of light clung to the tops of squat administrative buildings that sat at the center of the university area to the west.

Jin planned to take a scenic detour with plenty of people as he made his way to the old spellcaster's office. No doubt there were plenty of eyes on them. It was impossible to shake them with his slight limp that he did a decent enough job of concealing. The distance wasn't considerable between the field agent office and the Spire, but there were plenty of winding roads with sudden inclines and declines that aggravated his old war injury.

“You should be able to find him frequenting a tea shop in the eastern demihuman district,” Jin said after a long silence.

Evelyn eyed the pocket holding the letter as if she could see through the robe. “What is it?”

“A quest,” Jin answered. “It seems Altham Volkest has plenty of pawns at his disposal. Sometimes, it's better to have less pieces that are more specialized for our situation, but we need to pull them back on the board a bit.”

"I got the impression that Evan isn't easily deceived or trusting," Evelyn noted.

"You're right about that,” Jin conceded. “But I have a feeling he has just the right amount of mystery and rebelliousness. I'm sure he'll have more conditions for you. If that's the case, just accept them.”

“You're going to leave it up to my discretion? I'm honored.”

Jin laughed at the traces of sarcasm. “Oh, absolutely. I'm a terrible negotiator.”

They reluctantly parted ways with that last statement. Time was short, but Jin allowed his gaze to linger for a moment as he watched Evelyn take to the side streets leading to the demihuman district.

The faint ring of steel reached Evelyn's ears. After a few seconds, the evenly-spaced taps increased pace until they reached an erratic crescendo. A dull thump echoed down the narrow alleyway as someone's armored fist connected with a wall.

“...lost her,” someone said.

“Fucking hells,” another voice cursed off to the side.

A figure clad in deceptively unremarkable armor appeared in the murky twilight. The soldier's expression was concealed by a pull-down visor from his helmet. The thin slit of the helmet stared in each direction for a few searching seconds. He ran the tip of his sword carelessly along the breaks of the cobblestone road before sheathing it at his hip. A click of finality from the scabbard seemed to ease his irritation as his shoulders slumped.

“You'll ruin your sword,” someone said offhandedly. The rest of the person's statement was muffled by his helmet and became unintelligible as he proceeded further down the road.

The negligent sword-wielder ignored the comment. He lifted his gaze and stared down the dark alley. All he would see was a pile of refuse dumped by the shops that hugged the tight area. A twisted metal fence gripped one wall and hung defeated near its top. There was no way to see the slight distortion of the air hovering behind the debris.

One of his companions clapped him on the shoulder and gestured in the other direction. He followed, but only after casting one last reluctant glance into the growing darkness. The clamor of many armored boots faded.

Evelyn waited a full five minutes in case their departure might be a ruse to draw her out. When she was certain of their absence, she dropped the spatial mimicry spell that blended her with the environment. She breathed a relieved sigh as the silence persisted.

Altham Volkest's men were relentless to the point of careless. They'd been waiting at multiple choke points throughout the middle district after she left the Spire. Their numbers were disconcerting, but being so spread out indicated that they weren't sure of her destination.

They realized too late that their juggle of aggression and caution was growing obvious when she took a detour to the main plaza and passed along the front of the Guild Union in plain sight. When her pursuers were confined to the side streets, she slipped off to the south and planned to proceed with a roundabout route to the eastern demihuman district. The lower suburbs, home to the peasants and lower classes, were also a suitable place for secret meetings with the abandoned ramshackle buildings and haphazard layout. The remainder of Volkest's men would hopefully assume that she continued in that direction.

She had no doubt that Altham's men knew about the demihuman tea shop; however, they had no choice but to investigate multiple places.

Evelyn emerged from the alley on the opposite side once she confirmed the coast was clear. She made her way down a winding road that descended to a small courtyard. The path here was uneven, the walls cracked and statues splintered from neglect. Weeds broke through the yielding stone of forgotten fountains that reached for the sky in what might be interpreted as some sort of lament.

On the other side, down a road no longer traversed by basic foot traffic, was a hidden door. Evelyn bent down and inserted two of her fingers into the mechanism at the door's base, and it pushed forward an inch after a soft click. A faint sliver of flickering light welcomed her as she stepped over an invisible alarm ward that had been planted to alert anyone inside of intruders. The third alarm ward actually indicated friendlies, which was a clever idea considering that the alarms didn't actually emit a sound, but simply interrupted the original caster's mana pool – almost like a few quick taps on the shoulder. It made the decision much easier to shoot first and ask questions later.

Evelyn slipped inside and closed the door carefully. She was plunged in suffocating darkness when she snuffed out the single candle with a wave of her hand.

A faint breath of air traveled down the hallway and caressed her face with the smell of cinnamon. The familiar scent was always reassuring, because it was more than just cinnamon. The contents of its powdered form held an increased amount of the more flammable ingredients, which could cause an explosion with a fire spell. The one who resided in this place still maintained the same level of caution and kept large stores of the stuff. And nobody would find the smell strange since the place was connected to a bakery that sat at the edge of the main road.

Evelyn felt along the wall until she reached another room. The crackling of a fireplace concealed her footsteps. She knew this fire was maintained at all times for the same reason previously described.

The shape of a silhouette rocked back and forth in a chair with one leg missing. The creaking from the chair's limbs stopped as the figure shifted slightly to regard her, eyes concealed under a heavy hood. The tip of a staff appeared from seemingly nowhere, as if a rift in space opened. Upon closer inspection, one could discern that the broken section of the staff was actually attached to the person's arm.

A raspy voice emerged from the hood, “Who is it?”

“It's me,” Evelyn answered.

The staff lowered, and the man returned his sightless gaze to the fire. “Ah, you. The High Council getting antsy?”

Evelyn crouched next to the fireplace and placed her hands on the edge of a large chest pressed against the wall. “More so than usual.”

“The young Volkest?” the other spellcaster guessed.

“Of course.”

Evelyn didn't see it, but she could tell the man sitting in the chair was nodding. He readjusted in the chair so that the weight distributed to another leg and rocked back and forth again.

“You always did enjoy field work,” the man said. A dry cough escaped him, and he reached for a wooden cup that rested on a nearby stool. “Most spellcasters would've locked themselves away in the Spire by now.”

Evelyn slid the chest along the floor to reveal a small doorway. “I'm not that old.” She pressed a finger against the scar on her face and smiled at the man. “Besides, I was hoping to match my other side.”

The man chuckled. “You're a strange woman. So, where are you off to now?”

“South,” she answered.

Evelyn opened the hidden door and examined the pile of contents inside. There were stacks of papers and books with thin layers of dust on the surface. Fist-sized bags were lined neatly on a small shelf with gemstones arranged based on mana capacity.

Towards the back was a dagger mounted on a basic display. The intricate handle held three blue gemstones and was abnormally long for such a weapon. Two disturbingly realistic wolf heads extended to the sides, their mouths clamped around two plain orbs. She lifted the dagger delicately and inserted two gemstones into the indentations along the flat top of the handle. The stones emit a lukewarm glow for a few seconds before fading to a dull silver.

Evelyn attached its scabbard to her hip underneath the robe and slid the weapon home.

“Don't tarry for long,” the man said. His hood was lowered now, and he narrowed his grey eyes that were partially obscured by strands of disheveled, silver hair. “There are unforeseen complications brewing in the west. Your services will be invaluable once the Lamfell dungeon is accessible.”

Evelyn stood and gave the man a respectful bow. “Of course. I'm just making sure we have everyone there when the time comes.”

As Evelyn turned to leave, she saw the man return the bow from his canted, seated position. He took another sip of his drink and tossed the empty cup into the fire.

A black night dominated the city. The eastern district lacked the typical streetlamps with caricthmian gems regularly filled with mana. People didn't feel the need to provide demihumans with the same luxuries, no matter how simple. Only the stars guided Evelyn through the labyrinth of buildings.

A sense of melancholy always descended on her when she traversed the cracked streets and drab structures. The buildings hugged too close, as if pressed together by the oppressive force of the districts that surrounded them.

It wasn't that she pitied them. The demihumans displayed plenty of resilience over the past years since their horrible near-genocide. Without a doubt, there were still some who returned at the behest of their eastern kingdom to keep tabs on world events. But there were others who still tried to carve an honest living for themselves in the hopes of peace.

Evelyn pressed herself against a wall when she heard voices echo from an adjacent alleyway. After about a minute two demihumans, who appeared to have fox and dog qualities, passed by with one of them tossing a coin in the air. It was the typical sight of two individuals wandering home after a day of work.

Evelyn's entire focus was on the coin that danced through the air with a flick of the demihuman's thumb. The demihuman attempted to snatch the coin out of the air but clumsily swatted it with his palm instead, and it skittered off in a random direction.

“That's some bad luck,” his companion said.

The fox ears twitched on the other demihuman's head as he wandered over in the general direction of his hard-earned money. He didn't reply to the comment, but jerked a thumb over his shoulder in some gesture Evelyn didn't recognize.

Evelyn's mind conjured the image of a reptilian tiger carved into the side of a certain coin from a certain incident. The tongue spiraled from its mouth hungrily.

Korv. He's definitely still alive. She'd convinced herself of this despite voicing her uncertainty to Jin. All of the unusual monster events over the past months indicated careful planning. Something greater was conspiring behind the scenes.

Which then led to their current situation. Volkest would no doubt try to apply pressure to Evan McCarthy with the Lamfell dungeon if his plan to draft adventurers failed. The High Council would never accept such methods thanks to Jin's long-term reasoning, but there was still the former option. He had plenty of reasons on the surface to despise the leader of GRIM. Altham advocated the removal of all demihumans from Tevilandis in the past. They were evidence of a dark history that he intended to quell.

Evan was a direct contradiction. He created a guild that symbolized unification. If his ideals should spread to the other guilds, then it would be a problem for Volkest since the Guild Union already held enough power to rule a country. Only the High Council stood to contest it. If demihumans united within Tevilandis, then it might open negotiations with the Eastern Kingdom. Volkest couldn't have that. There was no doubt the Guild Union would seize such an opportunity for expansion, which would then place them at the forefront of negotiations with a foreign power.

Evelyn rested her hand over the letter residing in the pocket of her robe. If Bevka and Jin had agreed on this plan, then it was something Evan wouldn't be able to pass up.

Evelyn strode out to the main plaza of the eastern district. It was not nearly as grand as the central district of the Guild Union, but it was one of the few places that seemed to undergo regular maintenance. The area was not marred by unbridled vegetation, the humanoid statues remained with all limbs intact and one of the silent fountains held clean water. The demihumans had even revived some of the lamps with recovered caricthmian gems to light the area.

“Hello, young Miss.”

Evelyn instinctively reached for the dagger hidden beneath her robe. She stared into the blackness that consumed the branching streets. The trapped sound of the plaza made it impossible to determine where the voice originated.

“I abhor violence,” the voice continued. It was barely above a whisper, yet every word was plainly audible. “I know who you seek, and I know why. Please, refrain from doing so.”

Evelyn unsheathed the dagger and held it up in an ice-pick grip. She bladed her other hand with the palm facing the ground. Specks of light gyrated around her fingers and shot in a multitude of directions to light up the surrounding streets. A few yards away a figure squatted with hands gripping the jutting stones of the broken road. A hood was pulled up and the body concealed by heavy robes. The man rose slowly and spread his arms when he saw the light illuminate the cobblestones.

Who- the thought cut off as Evelyn felt an absurd pressure weigh on her shoulders. She hadn't even begun an appraisal spell, but she could see the waving flow of mana emanating from the mysterious individual.

Impossible! Evelyn thought. Nobody can handle such a mana pool!

But there it was. A part of her thought that perhaps the other spellcaster prepared an illusion in advance to hide his true mana flow. But the continuous weight on her body suggested otherwise. It was as if this person's very will was being exacted upon her.

“Please, turn back,” the man said. His beseeching almost felt genuine.

“Sorry, I have a job to do,” Evelyn said. She pushed against the weight of mana and simultaneously prepared an appraisal and spell of protection. “Identify yourself.”

The man sighed regretfully and ran a hand through his lengthy white beard. “I understand. Truly. We all harbor beliefs that are sure to contradict others.” He held out his hand. Specks of light formed and swirled together to form a distinct shape. The converged light exploded in a cloud of fine powder and was replaced by a book with orange binding.

Evelyn gritted her teeth when she saw the book open. The flow of magic emanating from the pages forced her to take a step back. A shiver rushed through her as she saw the magic crawl along the contours of the man's body. A brief shimmer consumed his form and then faded to nothingness.

She recognized it as a full-body protection spell. It was a defense against most types of spells by utilizing many complex shapes, but the body was still somewhat vulnerable to damage from a strong physical force.

Top-tier spellcasters mastered protection in many forms. Some created walls with strong shapes against direct attacks, some placed them as pillars for trapping and others used them to seal areas based on the terrain. But even they lacked the ability to trace the complex form of the full human body.

Protecting the whole body wasn't what made this man's spell unique. What made this form of body protection so difficult was that the caster needed to mentally trace whatever was being protected at all times while constantly feeding it mana. This required an immense amount of focus since it demanded attention while performing other spells. The caster's mana pool also needed to be monitored so as not to be wasteful.

A brief shimmer crawled up the spellcaster's left side as he took a step forward. With his second stride he regained full control of the spell, and it retained its mostly translucent state. He clearly didn't care how much he fed the spell, which meant the size of his mana pool was undoubtedly absurd.

A regenerative body protection spell. This man is beyond top-tier. A part of Evelyn's mind screamed for her to run, but her legs froze in place when she realized that such a notion had passed once that strange book appeared. This man already knew that her intentions would only be resolved by force.

“Tell me,” the man said, “Are you a seeker of True Equivalence?”