If people ever described a morning as a day being young, this very moment in Keela’s head was old, wrinkly and bitter, like an elder forgotten by the rest of the family. Grey skies outstretched over the entirety of the city, breathing a stillness that made this usually bustling town into a fatigued walking corpse. No shadows, no sun and air cold enough to cloud your breath in front of your face as you sighed at the sight of the horizon. The church sat atop the city of Wul, separating the slums and the fairgrounds as a pinnacle of so called neutrality. The religion was present in the city if not a bit irrelevant as people turned towards money more than a god to worship. Keela never saw herself as much of a worshipper; not of this god at least.

She got to the catwalk as soon as dusk piqued its crummy nose at the edge of the horizon, donning a wool scarf of neutral color to match her forgettable cape. Tightly wrapped in her cape, her teeth still clattered as the drop in temperature had been unexpected but definitely noticed. Getting to the so called ‘catwalk’, she looked around at the slums from the top. The catwalk was composed of a rocky overlook that spanned both sides, allowing people to come sightsee while leaning over a solid, well-kept wood fence.

After a few minutes of waiting and nervously looking around, a figure approached her and rested both of their elbows on the fence next to her. A gravelly voice rose from the depths of the obscuring light grey hood.

“Quit looking around so much, you attract too much attention. Look forward.”

Keela quickly obeyed, albeit a touch confused. The figure continued.

“I have a proposition for you. I couldn’t help but notice your… proficiency with lightning and your ability to loosen pockets. I’m offering training to make you great instead of simply good.”

“This feels like it’s a trap. Y’know, something too good to true or something”, replied Keela, trying to peek under the hood as discreetly as she could manage.

“Naturally, it would come at a price. I would need--”

“I’m poor.”

The figure sighed heavily, an impressive cloud forming in front of them.

“If you’d let me finish, I was going to say that the price would be that you would do me a favor and take on a certain… mission I suppose”, they said, not moving a single muscle.

“This still feels like a trap but if it gets me out of the gutter I guess I’m willing to try”, replied Keela, sighing heavily to try to replicate the cloud; to no avail.

“Good. Does anyone else know about this?”

“My… Housemate? She had to read me the note, I can’t read.”

“We’ll have to fix that too then. Follow me.”

The two cloaked figures dashed through sinuous streets, heading, to Keela’s surprise, into the fairgrounds. After a few twists and turns, a back alley to a three story building. Opening the door silently, the person invited Keela inside with a mild bow, to which she obliged, responding with a slight nod. When the both of them entered, the door was shut softly, attempting to avoid making noise. The door gave way to a set of stairs going down to a dimly lit basement. Going down, Keela couldn’t help but feel like she was making a mistake. The figure headed to a desk in the back and sat on a stool in front of it, turning around towards her.

The area was well kept but simple. Two walls were lined with bookshelves, lanterns dangling from the ceiling filled the space with dim but acceptable light. The desk had a couple papers lined on it and the wall above had schematics and miscellaneous other pieces of paper all firmly affixed to the wooden wall with daggers. The cloaked figure pulled the hood off, revealing a grizzled man in his advanced years, chiseled features lined with short grey hair and a short, well kept beard of the same color. His piercing blue eyes seemed to pierce the soul as he stared straight at Keela and started monologuing.

“Keela Norra, 152 cm tall, a bit scrawny on the side from living on the street, lives with Velka Grissi and Murphy Jakesh, along with three orphans, Tessa Kirri, Beatrice Crow and Ethan Strauss. Although your date of birth is unknown, you look to be of age and are a regular patron at a few bars, your drink of preference being strong ale. Even if you seem to be human, you are likely not and hide your true race in fear of rejection and fake an accent from the south in hopes of throwing people off your trail. You’ve been living by stealing and have an arcane affinity for lightning, though it is hidden from the nobility in fears of being constrained by the system. Did I get everything?”

Keela stared at him bewildered.

“I think? You know more about me than the people I live with, who are you?” she replied, still trying to keep her facial expression neutral despite the surprise.

“Right. Introductions are in order. My name is Bertaut the Architect. I am of the nobility and have looked for someone of your… particular talents. Would you mind taking those bandages off for me?”

Keela warily obeyed, taking the bandages off her recent wounds, causing a few winces.

“Come here”, he said, pointing to the stool in front of him.

She silently sat down in front of him.

“Give me your hand, I have a healing affinity”, he said, extending a hand as invitation.

Very slowly and hesitantly, she grabbed his hand, forcing herself to accept this much contact. A warmness poured into her body, seemingly coming from that hand. Her wounds slowly closed and her bruises rescinded. After a few seconds, Bertaut let go of her hand, letting her check out the lack of wounds.

“Usually I can do it faster, but I noticed you don’t like contact so I tried to keep it minimal”, he said, taking off his cloak and putting it on a hanger on the wall.

“Why are you putting so much care and effort into this?” asked Keela, hanging her cloak on the wall too.

“I want us to build a mutually beneficial relationship and the best way to do that is to both be comfortable.”

“So we can ask the truth out of each other then?”

“Of course.”

“Okay then, why me?”

“I told you; I needed someone who could run, steal, and that had an unregistered arcane affinity. You fit the bill.”

“I guess that makes sense.”

“My turn to ask. Are you human?”

Keela froze, looking at the man with scared eyes. But she erased all the thoughts of running away and refusing all of this; this might be her only chance to escape her other life. Slowly, she untied the last bandage she hadn’t removed that was around her head, under her hair, hidden until you looked very intently. As the bandage fell, her pointed ears perked up, coming through the hair.

“No, I’m not”, she said, her voice trembling from abject terror at being rejected.

She expected all matters of disrespect, she expected him to kick him out, report her to the authorities or even just kill her on the spot. But he didn’t. Even as he stared at a member of the most hated race in all of Aleicia, he simply nodded and went back to organizing papers.

“Y-you’re not going to insult me?” said Keela, slightly confused.

“Why would I? You’re no different than I, you simply live longer and have pointed ears”, replied Bertaut, getting back up and coming up to her.

Picking up the bandage, he handed it back to her.

“Wrap your hands and feet, we’re doing a touch of combat training first”, he said, holding out the bandage.

They sparred for a few hours, exchanging blows and healing, getting over the rudiments of fighting and more advanced techniques. After one last fight, Bertaut pulled out his pocket watch from his cloak that was still hung on the wall.

“It’s getting late, you should head back home”, he said, throwing her her cloak.

“How frequently will we do this?” she asked, putting on her cloak.

“Every day.”

“What about feeding the children though?”

Bertaut threw her a little purse. When she opened it, she noticed a dozen gold coins, separated into change.

“I can’t possibly afford to take this”, she said, trying to hand it back.

“I’m paying you for your time, now go.”

“Fine. But I’ll pay you back some day.”

She got to the door and looked back at Bertaut for just an instant.

“I’ll knock on the door at dusk tomorrow. Three knocks then two. Does that work for you?”

Bertaut simply nodded and Keela was off, bolting into the night as she finished re-wrapping her ears.