Leaving the doctor's clinic, the sun had already begun to set. A hazy mist covered the city, reflecting the dimming light, giving Shade an odd sense of disorientation, as if he had entered another world.
Just half a day ago, I was a regular person, he thought. Now, he could light a piece of paper just with his willpower.
"Not much has changed, really," he murmured to himself.
Reflecting on it, Shade realized he hadn't sacrificed much to gain these abilities. It seemed almost too lucky. But, based on what the doctor said, in addition to earning the necessary academic credits from coursework, he would also have to complete practical tasks each year to get practice credits. Without those, no matter how much he advanced, even to the second ring, he would still fail the year.
Life seemed to have taken a positive turn. Just yesterday, Shade had been worried about living off government handouts, and now he could already revise his plans. With his new powers, continuing his detective work suddenly seemed plausible.
Shade had already decided to carry out the tasks left by the previous detective for the next three months. But before he got too far ahead of himself, he knew he had to complete at least one proper commission to test whether he was actually cut out for the job.
Being mindful of his budget, he walked home but allowed himself a little splurge by stopping at a restaurant for dinner.
By the time he returned home, it was already 7 PM. After a brief study of the doctor's notebook, Shade discovered that the Academy offered formal courses on both mystical arts and curses. However, when it came to developing powers linked to one's glyph, each individual was expected to explore their own unique path, which could lead to personal discoveries of mystical abilities. These abilities could either be kept secret or shared with others.
Maybe it's better to wait for the textbooks and learn some standard techniques first, he thought, but his curiosity got the better of him. Shade spent the entire night experimenting with his glyph.
The mind influences matter, the spirit interferes with reality, he recalled. Yet, before bed, no matter how hard he tried, Shade was unable to activate the powers linked to [Time and Space]. The only effect he could manage was to make his fingertips emit a faint silver glow—an effect of the [Silver Moon] glyph.
That light had a calming presence. Staring at it for a while made Shade feel at peace.
"Not very useful... but at least I can save on gas bills... Wait, do I also have to pay for the water, gas, and steam bills in this house?"
With such bothersome thoughts in his head, Shade drifted off to sleep, exhausted.
The night sky outside was clear, the silver moon still shining bright, though its fullest phase had already passed. Despite the doctor and the writer's concerns that becoming a warlock might have a lasting toll on him, Shade awoke the next morning at precisely 6:30, feeling no different than he had the previous day.
He lay in bed for a while, contemplating life and the universe. But soon, the harsh reality of his financial situation pulled his thoughts back down to earth.
Reaching up to his face, he noticed the faint silver light still glowing on his fingertips. Staring at it for a while, he finally let out a long breath. His mood, soured by thoughts of his dwindling funds, began to improve slightly. He even managed to push aside the worries about the gas bill.
After getting up, washing, and dressing, Shade waited by his door at 7 AM sharp for the morning newspaper and milk delivery. The previous day, he had missed the paper because he had woken up too early, but last night, when he returned home, he had found the Tobesk City Morning News and the Kingdom Chronicle lying on his doorstep.
Of course, from next month onwards, he would have to start paying for his own newspaper subscription.
After downing two bottles of milk, he left for breakfast and placed the empty bottles in the milk crate by the door. Though Dr. Schneider had advised him to rest for three days, Shade felt perfectly fine. He attributed it to the strength of his foreign soul.
Today, he planned to tackle one of the commissions left by the previous detective. If things went poorly, he could always consider selling off the detective's assets to pay his debts.
For now, he decided to leave the investigation of Mr. Lawrence's mistress alone. In three days, Shade could consult the doctor and the others about the strange pebble-shaped ring he had found, then decide on his next move.
The other commissions seemed tricky as well. The search for Miss White's missing sister and gathering information on a doctor who could cure eye diseases would take time. For today's task, Shade chose something simpler: finding Miss Mia St. Gauld's missing orange cat.
The previous detective, Hamilton, had already located the cat but had held off on returning it so that Shade could have an easy task to begin with. All Shade needed to do was pick it up and deliver it to the client.
After enjoying breakfast at a restaurant near Saint Dren Square, he tucked the rolled-up newspaper under his arm and headed east along Charide Avenue. At the next intersection, he paused, watching the crowds of people emerging through the morning fog on their way to work.
Finally, Shade turned left into the narrow alley of Violet Iris Street, careful to avoid the overgrown summer weeds and the barefoot children running wild. According to the detective's notes, he stopped in front of a building with a sign reading Goodman Peter's Pet Shop.
The smell of animal waste hit his nose before he even raised a hand to knock. To his surprise, the shop door opened on its own, and out stepped a young woman with brown hair, holding a red handbag. She looked startled to see Shade, but after a polite nod, she walked past him, heading east down Violet Iris Street.
Shade watched her go, his gaze following her until she disappeared into the crowd at the corner.
"She..."
It wasn't love at first sight, but something about her gave Shade a strange feeling.
"It was as if the light around her dimmed, and she was the only one illuminated, like the star of a stage..."
"That's someone from the Sun Church, young man. You'd best not get any ideas," came a gruff voice from behind him.
Shade turned to see a middle-aged man with a ruddy nose standing in the doorway of the pet shop, watching him closely.
The smell of animals mixed with food clung heavily to the man's clothes. He wore a blue coverall, layered under an indistinguishable coat, and his mud-caked black boots completed the ensemble.
"Can I help you with something?" the man asked.
"Hello, I'm from Hamilton's Detective Agency. I'm here to pick up—wait a moment," Shade paused, glancing down at the note in the detective's notebook.
"An orange cat, about six months old, with a pure white tail and orange markings on its front left leg. The other legs are all white. The cat's name is Mia."
He described the cat's features, but the man's face suddenly darkened.
"Don't tell me that cat's gone missing, has it?"
Shade's face paled too. He lowered his voice, gripping the doorframe. The former detective had already paid for the cat to be boarded here, and the client—a "generous lady," as described in the notes—had offered a reward of two pounds, three shillings for the cat's return, plus reasonable expenses incurred during the search.
That sort of payment was highly unusual, but it showed how desperate the cat's owner was. With such a high reward on the line, had it not been for Goodman Peter Pet Store's being closed over the weekend, Shade would never have chosen Mr. Lawrence's mistress case as his first task.