Lise's trio was off on a distant training mission. Left on my own again, I fell back into the quiet life I had gotten used to. I felt I had hit the best spot I could with my cushy desk work. No dangerous quests set before me; I was on my way to being a well-behaved NPC. Since Reign's branch didn't often get first dibs on new recruits. I had no other newbies to be grouped with for the kind of test mission's Lise was leveling up with.
The little feathered trouble maker also returned sneaking its way into my routine. While at work every so often it would come sit with me. I began telling it about my favorite video games and novels that I had started to miss. It almost seemed invested as I delved into my D&D characters backstories and their campaigns. One day I even missed the diner hour from trying to sloppily draw my multitude of characters to show it.
One morning a rather ornate looking letter was waiting for me. Its fancy parchment catches my eye the moment I step into my office. To my surprise it's a letter from Jaunvei's leader. I know the clerks of the branch seem to get along with me well enough but I've never come face to face with anyone from the branch no the less their boss. Why the head of the branch felt the need to write to me, sends my anxious brain into overdrive. I try to drown the thoughts out as I unfold the letter. Its short and to the point.
Sir Orion
I have heard great things of your work ethic. To save time when giving and receiving clarification. One of our staff will be sent to work directly with you. So that our records may grow at an even more efficient rate.
Salutations Liaud
I read and re-read the brief note a few times. The capitalist work horse part of my brain sparks a moment of joy for having my efforts acknowledged. Then the dread of having to adjust to a new person in my comfortable isolation. A small part of me whines in despair. I don't have time to think further as a knock comes at my door.
The Jaunvei branch clearly spares no time. A man who seems to be around my age stands at the door. A bit taller than me his sunset eyes meet mine. He curtly nods my way showing me his branch badge without a word. It's not like I've much to gain from looking at the leather equivalent to an id card. His name is Xian, that's something, I guess. I move out of the way gesturing for him to come in. If neither of us are the type to speak first this will be a quiet partnership.
He sets up a small space to work from, he goes to my desk finding the files I would have sent out today. He moves around my small office with ease, seemingly knowing where to find everything he needs. Perhaps my organization style is that predictable. I shrug it off and get to my own work.
At least I try to, but coupled with a page that seems to have seen endless wind and rain smudged to all heavens. And a stranger who hasn't spoken a word or looked my way once. I can't help sneaking a few glances trying to size up the broad-shouldered body now taking up a chunk of my office.
His appearance doesn't suit a scholar. Most of the Division uniforms are in shades of green. His orange robes stand out, with leaves woven into intricate design's. Perhaps the scholar branch has a hierarchy I'm not familiar with. His uniform seems more suited for travel then stagnant work. I'd sooner think he was a returned adventurer from my own branch. His shoulder length hair is neatly half tied back. The hair clasp is a rather sharp looking point peaking out from behind his head. His dark hair faintly lightens at the tips. There are even traces of makeup at the edges of his eyes. This Xian's appearance is hard to make heads or tails of. Is he an assassin or a prince that joined the Division to gain merit.
I'm so busy trying to figure out what character trope's he fits. I don't notice when his own work pauses. His dagger shaped eyebrows begin to meet, his mouth scrunching up.
"Is there a problem?" His eyes hesitate to meet mine.
Ah, I've been caught. I've made him so uncomfortable he even spoke. Luckily, I'm an expert at accidentally zoning out for too long in other people's direction. Him catching me staring doesn't phase me.
"I was building up my introduction. You offered your name -sort of- but I didn't return the favour." I nod my head his way.
"I know your name. Don't worry about it." In a flash he's back to work.
I blink at him a bit longer. Somewhat surprised to be out anti-social'd so completely. The openly unfriendly type is better than the fake sort. I thank the wise and great leader Liaud for his choice of work mate.
Despite struggling through the poorly cared for field notes. Work does seem to pass with a new speed. Anytime my ignorance to the world confuses me about a section. I simply build up the nerve to ask Xian. He never fails to have an answer, explaining things simply to help me grasp the concepts. Not having to wait for answers does take out some of the stress of the work. My fear of lacking basic knowledge of the world recedes. No question is met with any judgment. Perhaps looking like a tossed away ignorant first son has its benefits.
The work days aren't especially strict in the Division. As long as thing's get done -and it's done well- there are no complaints. Perhaps Xian was sent to decrease the work of the regular clerks who I had been questioning when I couldn't look up the answer myself. He's been assigned my living search bar.
When lunch time comes, I'd finally gotten into the grove and hadn't thought to check the time. He went out and returned with enough food for both of us. I thank him and look at the assortment of food and snacks he's retrieved. Quite a few of the foods were newly acquired favorites of mine. Is this guy some sort of Sherlock? Coincidence? Stalker?
My curiosity was beginning to itch at this point. Do I risk brining it up or ask around about this Xian first. If he's just sharp, my confusion must be apparent.
He looks up from his own food, he seems content his mouth full. His eyes a little less intense with his cheeks puffed full. He looks from me to the food. I can't tell whether he worries his choices aren't good or he's hoping he'll get to eat my share. As we eat, I can't help but feel a strange ease set in. As if this Xian has triggered a sense of familiarity. I can't recall any of my old friends being quite this quiet. Perhaps I'm failing to remember something from the novel. If he goes by multiple titles or names perhaps, I'll know him. If I can get him to talk more maybe I'll be able to place him.
The rest of the day passes in relative ease, the most Xian speaks is when asking for clarifications on the transcriptions. As we pack up for the day my mental battery feels like it's reaching its end. I've given up trying to waste my brain power on trying to figure this guy out. We part ways for the day, he stands by the office watching me go. I wonder how long it takes to head back to his branch's mountain from mine.
-
In the seedy corners of the hidden district a cocky young bandit is idly tapping his hand on a counter. The beaded curtain of the back room shifts as the old hunched woman returns from her appraisal. A small sack in being held as if it contains gold.
"Well now, young man. I don't know where you got this. But it's worth more then most are likely to see. Even after my commission, we'll both have quite the full pockets."
The old woman reluctantly sets the bag down on the counter. A humourless laugh falls out of the man his dagger twitching hinting at a hidden aggravation. He opens the sack removing a few strands of the hair within.
He holds it out, "This should be enough to have a tracking spell made right."
The old woman's eye's shine as she takes out a tray for him to place the precious strands on. He'll have to be careful; she might make a copy for herself if he doesn't stake his claim.
"I have the sacks weight and every strand accounted for. You do want the chance to spend that commission."
His boyish facade slips for a moment, the charming smile cracking. The old shop keep has seen enough to know which kinds of customers are safe to cheat. This man will only play nice if she does. She gruffly humph's in his direction.
"How would you like the spell stored? Trinket or chain"
"A chain is fine, something nice but cheap looking. If you would."
He leans against the counter as the woman shuffles through the beads and back into her work room. A crooked smile -genuine this time- creeps up his face as he thinks to himself.
"I knew he was lying that fox. I don't care what tree he's roosted in."
The old woman is too focused on weaving her magic. To pay the young lunatic in her shop any mind. Though she has her own questions. Hair of the blessed is a powerful magic enhancer. Having access to a living source, blood and bone included. She'd never have to work again for three lifetimes. A shame -whoever they are- they'll be receiving such a rowdy guest soon.
She appraises the humble but pleasing amulet she's completed. The Maroon colour of the simple pendant influenced by the hair encased within. She gives it a test and the amulet faintly glows raising in her hand. Pointing the way back to its source.
-
Note sets out some tea for their break. Today for sure he was going to get Xian to open-up to him. Xian was more then considerate, anything he could do -that can be achieved without speaking- he does. Note had even found him cleaning up around the office. As if he'd arrived too early and hadn't been able to wait without busying himself.
Hands that tend to flinch away from anything too hot, makes tea cups a bit hard to hold onto. I've spilled and burned myself from my hand's overreactions countless times. I was doing well, as I served our snack. Xian seemed anxious watching me set out the tea. As if aware either one of us might end up getting splashed. The moment I filled his cup he snatches it away from me. Lifting mine to help fill the next one. I smile my thanks, trying to figure out which one of us was the more anxious one. I settle in faintly warming my hands with the cups heat.
"We make quite the team. I'm quite lucky to have been given such skilled help. Leader Liaud was too generous." I do my best to warm him up to a conversation.
Xian takes a sip from his cup, "You needed a bit of help. I was free."
"You are more then the perfect help. I've never had the honour of meeting anyone from your branch directly. How all seeing is your leader."
Xian's constant frown softens a bit at the edges, "Not all seeing. Just wise."
"Is it true all the messenger birds are raised by your branch? How do you manage raising pigeons and doves along side their predators?"
He looks at me now blinking as if I've insulted him, "They're not regular birds. Though they might appear so."
This spark's my memory, some of the birds are familiars. Other's magical creatures simply disguised to blend in. With one other special sort also hidden within the feathered ranks. .. … …!
It's been so long now since I read the novel, I'd forgotten a spoiler I'd once glanced from the comments. There was once a small clan of shapeshifting folk in this world. One such man of this tribe hid in plain sight within the scholarly branch of the Division. Serving as the head of all the messenger beasts. Lise had not yet added this druid esq boy to her roster. When my reading had slipped into participation. I was so ecstatic with at my ability to recall such a small unlockable character! My coordination in my mind's distraction failed to gently raise the cup I'd been about to sip correctly. Hot liquid elegantly splashing all over me in an instant.
"Note are you alright- What were you thinking! Are you a boiled fish!" Xian rushed to begin drying my clothes.
I quickly removed my outer layer. Rushing to prevent the heat from reaching my skin. I threw it to the side embarrassingly. Trying to help clean the mess I'd also made of the table. We both were busily dabbing up the spilled tea. Xian's silence had been truly unmuted now. As he nagged at me to be more careful. His words started to fade out as I found myself freezing in place. The damp handkerchief slipping out of my hand. What had he just called me?