Many decades after the spires appeared, Earth

“What kind of a name is Est?”

The man in question glared across his desk at the stunning, young woman in the just tight enough dress seated on the other side.

“It’s the one on the door of my agency. The one you entered because you have a job for me… presumably?”

A growl rattled through from the closed door to the other room.

“Do you have a dog in there?” the young woman’s eyes lit up.

“No, but my savage of an associate might be eating one,” Est sighed. “Look, miss?”

“Darkwillow,” the young woman beamed.

“Huh?” Est scrutinized the young woman.

Her hair was done up in the latest style, wavy and thick with magical dyes that shimmered in a mix of reds, blues and violets.

Perfect features.

Eyes that seemed to twinkle. A magical spell or contacts, probably.

Red-painted lips. Almost mundane compared to the rest.

Her ears looked normal for a human.

She didn’t appear to be anything else.

“Okay,” Est shrugged broad shoulders. “Miss Darkwillow… what can I do for you?”

“You’re an investigator or Investigator?”

“The former—”

The young woman pouted.

“— but, I have abilities well suited to the art of… investigating… things.”

The same growl had Est glaring at the closed door to his left. He concentrated for a moment.

A muffled curse in the other room was followed by silence.

Est’s grin was beyond smug. “That’ll teach the runt…” he muttered under his breath.

“I need your help, Mr. Chan,” the young woman said seriously.

Of course you do, that’s why you’re here, Est thought, now get on with it and stop wasting my time.

“It’s my pet, you see. She disappears during the night and comes back with blood, sometimes her own.”

Est raised a brow. “Your… pet?”

The young woman nodded earnestly.

Est fought the urge to let his head drop to his nearly spotless desk. Instead, he took out an old-fashioned notepad and pen. He had a top-of-the-line PID thanks to his grandparents, but it was a matter of principle. An investigator had certain aesthetics to maintain.

“Okay then… why don’t we start with your pet? What is it? Dog? Cat? Pocket behemoth?”

“Rose is a red-backed skarling,” the young woman smiled proudly.

Est blinked and dropped his pen.

Not a pet, definitely not a pet!

He had to reassess the beautiful young woman.

She looked more dangerous now?

“So… your bonded familiar disappears…”

“Yes.”

“Returns bloodied…”

“Uh huh,” the young woman nodded.

“All without your knowledge?”

“She was a gift,” the young woman shrugged.

Est swallowed a curse.

Who gifts a skarling?

Irresponsible gift giving aside, a skarling familiar not tightly-controlled had the potential for real danger. It meant that if word got back to his mother that he did nothing she would make him regret it.

His grandparents and great-grandparents would then look at him with sad disappointment or was it disappointed sadness?

“I can pay you in Universal Points.” The young woman took his silence for hesitation, which was accurate. “I’m not sure how this works, but would 5000 points be sufficient?”

Wealthy and irresponsible seemed to go hand in hand.

Est opened his mouth to speak, but was preempted by the door to the side office bursting open.

His associate stormed in with the blazing eyes of desperate greed and a big toothy smile that had the young woman recoiling back in fright despite the capped tusks.

“We’ll take the job!” he said in an oddly high-pitched voice for his bulk.

“You’re a Torruk!” the young woman squealed.

Excitement or fear?

Est couldn’t tell.

“My associate, Runt,” Est sighed as he waved a hand toward the brownish green-skinned ball of muscle.

“You guys have the weirdest names,” the young woman frowned in confusion.

“Yes! Valued client! I was so named by the unfortunate nature of my deformity,” Runt solemnly laid a ham-sized fist over his barrel chest.

“I can’t see anything wrong with you… is it that your tusks aren’t pointed? They should be pointed right?”

“Only savages hold to such primitive dentition. Forward-thinking Torruk have utilized utensils for many generations now,” Runt grinned happily.

“Plus the tools, knives, arrows,” Est rolled his eyes, “no need to tear out throats with those ridiculously over-sized sabreteeth.”

“That is not a word, esteemed partner,” Runt winked at the young woman.

She laughed. “Est-eemed… I get it!”

“Never gets old, does it?” Est muttered under his breath.

“Ah, such sharpness of mind in the young miss,” Runt nodded sagely.

“Why, thank you, good sir!” the young woman dipped her head.

“In answer to your question, I, Runt, was born the smallest. I am over a foot shorter than the average Torruk and perhaps fifty of your human pounds lighter.”

“But you’re so big,” the young woman’s perfect brow wrinkled with confusion.

“Perhaps in comparison to my partner here,” Runt pointed at Est.

“Right… so it seems that we are taking you on as a client,” Est said flatly. “I’m currently working on another case,” literally, thanks to his powers, “but I appear to be getting close to solving it. So, once that’s done I can look into your familiar’s activities.”

“Rose,” the young woman said.

“Huh?” Est blinked.

“Her name is Rose. Because of her beautiful coloration and patterns… like a flower.”

Not the image that came to mind when Est pictured a skarling, but he’d roll with it… reluctantly.

“If you’ll follow me to the front office, Young Miss Darkwillow. I shall take down your contact information,” Runt gallantly held a massive arm out for the young woman, who took it without hesitation.

The pair exited Est’s office leaving him to his thoughts.

He could run his mind in parallel tracks without much difficult.

One mind in his physical body. The one sitting in his office and dealing with ridiculously irresponsible wealthy clients and a mouthy mountain of thick bone and thicker muscle.

The other mind was in his astral projection. An invisible specter that floated out over the partially-artificial island city in search of the quarry he had just spoken of.

A gift of his genetics in addition to being about as strong as three human men combined.

His ability was one of a myriad in the psionic tree that began with his grandfather.

It was unfortunate that he had the worse one out of all his cousins, siblings and half-siblings, hence why he was stuck on the island of unfortunate refugees and others of a more untrustworthy bent.

If only he had gotten something better from the other half of his genetic tree. Although, the less said about what his traitorous father, the better.

Then again the soft exile probably had more to do the quarrels he kept having with his mother.

The two Est’s worked separately, two minds, but at the same time they were one.

The one in the office started brainstorming about what the wayward skarling could be getting up to.

The astral projection drifted on a thought trail as it wound through the island city’s narrow and winding streets.

The trail moved further away from the center of the city and out to the artificial extension from the natural land.

Composite material platforms on impossibly strong poles plunged into the ocean floor. They served as the base on which the structures were built.

A melding of magic and advanced technology from Earth’s first allies of a different species from another world.

Almost two-hundred years since the spires had appeared.

Est often tried and failed to picture what life was like without powers, Skills and spells.

“God, how did people survive,” he muttered.

The trail reached its terminus at a dingy looking structure near the tall seawall that kept the strong winds during typhoon season from battering the inhabitants, human or otherwise.

Everything looked moist thanks to the constant spray from the ocean’s waves.

The invisible Est floated down to ground level and through the wall into the building. He beheld a large, but cramped space. Filled with simple metal tables and benches where people sat shoulder to shoulder eating what appeared to be a simply, but hearty stew.

Free food quietly supplied by the rulers of the nation.

No one went hungry under his family’s stewardship.

He walked unseen toward the back.

The wall was no obstacle.

The kitchen space was a bustle of activity.

Est floated overhead as he scrutinized the face of each person working hard at prepping and cooking. He found the man he was looking for. An exceptionally handsome face that seemed out of place.

Out of all the places he had tried in his quest to fulfill the job for the client this was the last place he had considered.

Expectations had suggested the man was out carousing with his friends or in the arms of another woman or man.

The client would be pleased with the news.

Est recalled his astral projection.

While he waited for his other self to return, he jotted a few notes down.

He needed to physically return to the building later and record actual proof. His word wouldn’t be enough for the client.

“Good news, I’ve solved the case of Mrs. Guzman’s wayward husband,” Est said as Runt angled his broad shoulders to fit through the doorway. “Turns out he’s not so wayward after all. He’s spending his secret time cooking at a free restaurant. The man has looks and is a decent guy on the inside.”

“Your words are complimentary, yet your tone suggests bitterness. I’m uncertain which is the genuine sentiment,” Runt said.

Est snorted. “I’m a bitter cynic, Runt. That should give you the hint you need. In any case, our job for Mrs. Guzman is basically complete. I just need a few pictures and recordings for her peace of mind.”

“Why does her lifemate conceal his activities? Especially one so worthy.”

“I have no idea. You want me to ask him for you?”

“Yes.”

“That was a rhetorical question.”

Runt’s ridge brow creased in a fearsome frown. “You wouldn’t do well in my homeworld. I’d give it ten ticks of my fingers before one of us would brain you for your concealed meanings.”

“It seems that your people aren’t that different from mine. Many of my kind tend to react to me in a similar fashion.”

“Then the flaw lies within you?”

“I’ve known that for years,” Est sighed. “So… did you get Miss Darkwillow’s contact information?”

“Yes, she lives in a very wealthy area near the center of the capital.”

“Unsurprising, her clothes were a dead giveaway. Manila,” Est grimaced, “wonder if my family knows her family? On second thought, I don’t really care.”

“Perhaps you should. Word of your involvement would surely trickle like a flowing stream down to your mother’s ears.”

“It doesn’t matter. She knows where I am and what I’m doing with my days and nights. Besides, Grandmother and Grandfather laid down the law. Mother can’t interfere with how I live my life.”

“This skarling… I’m unfamiliar,” Runt said.

“Small creatures. Intelligent, vicious. A mix of a squirrel and an armored raptor. Er… like those dinosaurs in that ancient movie you love so much. Skarlings can fit in your hand, yet can tear a man’s throat in the blink of an eye. Tiny, but sharp teeth. Long, knife-like fangs. Claws that can cut steel.”

“Ah, yes, those dinosaurs of yours bring me nostalgic feelings. They remind me of my home.” Runt’s voice took on a wistful tone. “The more pastoral of our kind still drive great herds of mighty giants across the plains. Knights and Lancers sit astride powerful beasts of tooth and claw. I can picture dagger teeth gnashing and tails lashing. The best herd guardians were the ones with this over-sized curved claw on each foot,” he mimed a clawed finger across his broad, muscular belly, “they could disembowel a raider in the blink of an eye. Guts and viscera flo—”

“Got it,” Est raised a hand. “Anyways, I need to do more research, but I vaguely remember the world skarlings come from have a weird system where chosen individuals could bond with a variety of creatures. I mean that in a literal way. Apparently, they could combine, two physical forms into one, for greater abilities, strength, speed, durability and other esoteric ones, like fire-breathing and such. You know how it is.”

“I don’t. This is the first I’m hearing of this. It sounds disgusting, yet intriguing. Tell me, is this combination… eternal?”

Est shook his head. “From what I remember of my schooling… no. Although, over time each partner, the person and familiar slowly take on characteristics of the other.”

“Why was the young miss gifted such a creature?”

“That’s one of the questions burning a hole in my head.”

Runt’s eyes widened.

“Not literally,” Est added. “We’re going to need to do a lot of research. Why don’t you do some digging into Darkwillow’s background. I wouldn’t be too surprised if you find out that she’s got ties to Sylvandria. Skarlings and the whole familiar merging thing originated from there after all.”

“And what will you do?”

“I need to learn about skarlings, while using my other self to follow Darkwillow’s familiar. It shouldn’t be too hard to follow it from her home and find out where it goes to end up covered in blood.”

“Do we need to go through all this effort? Once you discover what the skarling does on its adventures then isn’t the contract fulfilled.”

Est shook his head. “That’s not enough. Darkwillow doesn’t seem to have any idea what she’s been gifted.”

“Duplicitous, Estelon… you are of two faces,” Runt flashed the rest of his white teeth.

“Yeah, well… that’s sort of literally true in my case, but I can’t just leave the young woman in uncertain danger. Also we need to do enough work to earn that 5k.”