"So," asked the innkeeper, "what did you want to ask?"

"Well," said Evelyn, "it might be a good idea to start with an introduction, don't you think? My name is Evelyn. What's yours?"

"It would be a good idea if you actually did start with it, but…" He stopped finishing his sentence after noticing the 'yeah, yeah, I get it' look from Evelyn. "Right. Enough is enough, I guess." He chuckled. "My name is Gaillard, but friends call me Gard."

"Wow, should I be touched that you consider me a friend already?"

"Everyone in Sylio calls me Gard. Probably half of Aldunis and more outside its borders called me Gard at some point," he explained. "And I don't think there were any 'we are friends now' in what I said."

"If there wasn't, then why did you say what did your friends call you?" she countered. "Besides, it seems like it's a title that's not that hard to get, mister 'I've got connections all over the continent.'"

Gard laughed at himself heartily. "It is not. You don't have to worry yourself about this old man dallying with you, if that's what you thought."

"Not at all," she reassured him calmly. "I bet whatever your wife would do to you if you did is scary enough."

"Oh, you have no idea. I love her to death, and she loves me the same, but I swear she takes that a little too literally."

Evelyn laughed. "Sounds like a happy marriage to me."

"It is, it is." Gard nodded. "Been married thirty years. You don't make it that long if your marriage is bad."

Evelyn tried not to think of her father, who had been married to her stepmother for a similar amount of time and never smiled whenever he was around her. Only when Evelyn and he were together did she ever notice him being happy. At least in recent years. "I guess you don't."

If Gard did notice anything about her small change in demeanor, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he asked, "Okay, you've passed the 'make the person like you before you start interrogating them' test. I think we can move on to your actual questions."

"Right." Evelyn nodded. "I'm looking for someone."

"Mhm, that's what most people ask too. You gotta be more specific."

"It's a girl. Should be around 14, or maybe even 15 by now. Rather small, maybe a little frail-looking, but I haven't seen her in years, so that might have changed. Kids can grow up pretty fast."

"That they do," agreed Gard. "I have two, so I should know. That age," he turned nostalgic, "it can feel like one day they call you 'daddy' and want to play with you, and the next they act like they are the most grizzled war veterans who don't have time for trivial things like 'family'. Heh." He chuckled. "Glad they are older now. It was hell to deal with back in the day."

"She has black hair and blue eyes," she brought the conversation back on topic. "And… well, she was kidnapped. I can't tell you much about the one who kidnapped her except that he is a man."

"Wouldn't it be that one?" He pointed to a board on a wall on his left. It featured a handful of notices, mostly information that's useful only for locals. Among those notices were also a few "wanted" posters.

Evelyn stared at the one that Hard was pointing to and squeezing her eyes as she read: "Wanted, dead or alive, for kidnapping the 'Sleepy Princess' Annette Gwynaedd. 5 gold coins of reward." Above the text was a picture of the perpetrator. Drawing, rather, as Evelyn judged its quality as "lacking." The only thing she could discern from it was that he had medium to long hair, bright eyes, and a slightly beaked nose.

The artist must have worked from other people's descriptions, otherwise, the poster would be done with the help of a light mage who transferred the image of the culprit, who would sit before him, on the paper. The artist would then draw or paint over the image created by the mage.

It could only mean that the watchmen in Avinea have either never caught him before and done the portrait, or the man in question wasn't a high-profile criminal that would warrant making it.

"... I guess." Evelyn said, after reaching an easy conclusion. "Though I reckon it's gonna be hard to find anyone with a drawing like this."

"Or you could grab the nearest fellow with slightly longer hair and hope that the authorities in Avinea forgot what he actually looked like. The Sheriff gave these posters to every tavern some days ago. Some long-haired fellas been harassed on the streets since then. With a bounty that high, folks will try to turn anyone in for just a chance of it."

"Some days ago, you say?" asked Evelyn. "They must really want him," she said quietly to herself, remembering that her father's raven notified her of Annette's disappearance not long before the posters were distributed.

"Aye, some days. Maybe a week," said Gard, intentionally ignoring Evelyn's short pondering. "Some bounty hunters even turned up, just like you, asking questions. They must have been the smart ones, figuring out that Sylio is the Aldunis's gateway to the sea, and knowing that the easiest way to leave Aldunis is right here."

"I'm honored to be among the "smart ones" then," Evelyn joked lightheartedly. "And what did you answer them in relation to the kidnapper?"

"Well, I first started with a question of me own, you see," said Gard. "It's not very common for an innkeeper to be the one asking, so you can think of it as more of a test."

"Mhm, and what was the question you asked those bounty hunters?" asked Evelyn. The possibility of Gard having some information on Annette piqued her interest.

"A simple one, really," he reassured her. "I asked: 'What is it that you're planning to do with him after you find him?'" He crossed his arms and shook his head as if he remembered being disappointed by their answers. "So far, none have passed. You have an advantage already, knowing that this is a 'test,' and that by passing it you could learn something. Others just assumed that I knew nothing and moved on."

"What would I do after I find the man who kidnapped Annette?" Evelyn pondered on the topic for exactly zero seconds. "I will get Annette to safety and then return to beat the shit out of him," she said resolutely.

Gard studied her for a short moment. "Well, the order of things at least you got right. It's better than any bounty hunter before you. The best answer I got so far was 'Bring him to justice!' Nobody cares about the girl because she has no price tag on her name. But…" He scratched his short beard. "You care more about her than about delivering him to justice."

"So? Do you know anything?" Evelyn eagerly asked.

"Matter of fact, I do." He started recollecting the story in his head. "Something like two weeks ago, a man with a little girl — at that time I thought she was around 10 years old — came into my tavern. They both fit your description and the 'image' on the poster. Of course, at that time, I had no reason to suspect anything. Princess's kidnapping wasn't made public yet, so—"

"She was here? Annie was here? Where did they go? Which direction?" Evelyn almost jumped out of her seat.

"Calm, lass, let me finish my story and you will know everything." Gard tried to reassure her by gesturing with his hands. "They came from the land, not by ship, but I think the man was looking for a passage by ship somewhere. Don't know where. I've never even seen them leave, nor have my employees." He crossed his arms again. "He paid for everything, so I didn't really care…"

"Are you sure? They sailed from here?"

"I'm pretty sure, would bet my hand on it, but perhaps not my head." Grad chuckled grimly. "I recommend asking around in the harbor. Start with the harbormaster. He is a helpful fellow. Just treat him with respect and he will be willing to aid with anything."

Evelyn's face lit up, having found valuable information about her dearest friend. "Thank you so much. I will repay it to you someday. You have my word." She stood up, her pint half empty, and made to quickly go back to the harbor.

"Oi!" called Gard after her when she was halfway across the tavern. "One last piece of my goodwill. When they came here, they didn't look like a victim or a kidnapper. It was more like father and daughter. Or brother and sister, going by their age. Do with that what you want."

Evelyn didn't understand what was he trying to say, but she nodded nonetheless, placed that information somewhere deep inside her memory, and almost ran out to the harbor.

The street looked less busy now. Like most seaside towns, that part of the day usually meant slower… everything. Slower walking, slower drinking, slower living. Most of the heavy lifting was done in the morning, so people tended to relax when the sun was at its highest. One man was maybe relaxing too hard.

"Oi! Lady! Come over…" said a slurred, coarse, and barely able-to-understand voice.

Evelyn involuntarily turned to look at the man, because she was doubtless the intended target of his words. The street was mainly free of passers-by and she was pretty much the only woman in the close vicinity. She wasn't necessarily in a rush to the harbor. It wasn't going anywhere. She was almost running because she was excited about having found a clue about Annie's whereabouts. The man clearly didn't care either way, because he still called out to her for some reason.

He was covered in dirt and what looked like vomit. Or maybe it was some porridge spilled on his previously white shirt. Evelyn preferred to think of it as porridge. His hair was short, but still managed to look disheveled. He had stubble that was equally unkempt and most likely unwanted. His clothes were hard to make anything off of, as they were ragged and filled with holes. The only thing that could be said for certain was that his trousers were some shade of brown, his shirt was white once upon a time, and his unbuttoned waistcoat was a shade of light blue.

Judging by his face and general build, Evelyn guessed that he was fairly young and uncharacteristically fit and strong for someone to be lying in a gutter, drunk and barely at his senses. Evelyn didn't know why she decided to listen to whatever this drunkard had to say. Maybe it was the curiosity of that small anomaly of a man who could pass for a noble, lying in filth by the roadside in Sylio.

"What is it?" she asked warily. "Speak, patience is not my strong suit."

"Well… ye see, I-I am l-looking for some… one. I think…"

"Mhm, and what does that have to do with me?" She crossed her arms defensively.

"It-it's not you. I… am looking for a man…" he almost spluttered whatever he had for breakfast all over him.

Evelyn, regretting letting her curiosity get the best of her, left the drunk and went on her way. "Good for you. Good luck with that."

She headed to the harbor again, only to be stopped once more on that relatively short stretch of half-cobbled road. It was the feathered hat, pinched at the side, and white hair gently flowing underneath it. Evelyn had to double-check that this wasn't a different person than what she thought. The hair alone was almost an immediate giveaway as to the identity of the individual. She couldn't believe the coincidence. The one person she wished to be her mentor was right across the street.

It was years since she had last seen her. Before she went on the road herself. Evelyn would leave Avinea faster if not for the requirement of the lady before her that anyone who wanted to gain experience under her wings had to be at least a C-rank adventurer. Since the day she first set out on the road, she worked toward that goal, and a few months ago, she achieved it. If not for Annie's missing, she would probably be looking for her. Evelyn couldn't stop herself and called out for her.

"Lady Dracus!"