Jack's grip tightened on Caspian's arm, yanking him from the chair and dragging him down the narrow hallway. Each step echoed in the dimly lit corridor, the cold metal of the handcuffs clinking against the sturdy frame. Caspian's heart raced, panic flooding his thoughts as he stumbled along, his mind a chaotic mess of confusion and dread.
"Where are we going?" he managed, his voice cracking under the pressure.
Jack glanced over his shoulder, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. "To the interrogation room. Try not to trip over your own feet."
Caspian felt a surge of irritation at the officer's dismissive tone. "I'm not a criminal! I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Save it for the room," Jack replied, pushing open a heavy door that creaked ominously. Inside was a stark and bare room, featuring a single metal table and two uncomfortable-looking chairs. A dim light flickered overhead, casting shadows that seemed to dance mockingly around him.
"Great," Caspian muttered as he was shoved into one of the chairs. The metal bit into his wrists as Jack secured him with the cuffs. "Just what I needed—a front-row seat to my own demise."
Jack stepped back, surveying him with an amused smirk. "You're making it sound like you're going to be executed."
Caspian rolled his eyes, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. "You could at least show a little empathy for the guy who just got dragged out of a bar covered in blood. You're the one who's supposed to help me!"
"Help you? Right," Jack chuckled, shaking his head. "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"
Just as the humor faded, Jack approached, patting down Caspian's jacket and searching for weapons or contraband. His hands moved methodically, checking every pocket with practiced ease. Caspian felt a surge of indignation. "Seriously? This is unnecessary!"
Jack raised an eyebrow, pulling a knife from the waistband of Caspian's pants. "What's this?" he asked, holding it up like a trophy.
Caspian's face fell as reality settled in. "Uh, I can explain that," he stammered, his mind racing for a plausible excuse.
Jack's amusement deepened. "I'm all ears."
"Look, it's not what it looks like!" Caspian protested, his voice rising in a mix of desperation and embarrassment. "I found it lying around! I was going to turn it in! I swear!"
Jack placed the knife on the table with a casual flick of his wrist, still grinning. "You've got a great way of getting yourself into trouble, Caspian."
"Handsome bastard!" Caspian thought bitterly, watching Jack's retreating form. The irony of it all struck him.
As Jack left, the senior officer entered the door swung shut behind him. Caspian tried to calm his racing thoughts. He took a deep breath. How had it come to this? Just a few hours ago, he had been sleeping at home, having a lovely nightmare, and now he was shackled to a chair, surrounded by sterile white walls.
Caspian forced his most earnest smile, trying to appear as harmless as possible. "Listen, I can explain."
The captain raised an eyebrow, sitting down and giving the knife a quick glance before looking back at Caspian. "Oh, you better. Otherwise, you're going to have to get used to life behind bars."
Taking a deep breath, Caspian launched into his explanation. "Two thugs showed up at my apartment last night, a couple of hours after you left. They burned down my place and attacked me. I killed them both in self-defense—that's where the knife and the blood came from."
The captain's face, initially skeptical, grew serious as Caspian continued. His eyes narrowed, the weight of the situation sinking in. "Grave tidings indeed," he muttered, rubbing his chin. "Anything else?"
Caspian coughed, casting a doe-eyed look at the captain. "Yeah... they shot a street thief dead—name's Jeb—while they were chasing me down."
The captain's expression darkened further, and he cursed under his breath. "Sleeping Forest, huh?" he said, leaning forward with a scowl. "Blimey... well, I don't know how to tell you this, Caspian, but you—"
"Cassy is fine. Just Cassy," Caspian interrupted with a grin.
The captain sighed, clearly not in the mood for nicknames. "Alright, as I was saying... those thugs are the same ones who killed old John. They probably thought you had the relic. Since they're 'missing,' I don't need to tell you what's going to happen next, right?"
Caspian swallowed. "Well, that's where I was hoping you'd come in, officer."
The captain's expression turned grim as he wrestled with some internal conflict. "Do you have any skills?"
Caspian blinked in confusion. "Skills? Yeah! I'm great at fighting, brawling, scrapping…"
The captain sighed, rubbing his temples. "Anything else?"
Caspian shook his head. "Nope! Grew up on the streets. Street smarts and combat sense, that's all I've got."
The captain leaned back, studying him for a moment before speaking again. "Listen, Caspia-
"Just Cassy is fine" Caspian interrupted.
"Em alright, Cassy do you want to work with us? Normally, when civilians get caught up in situations like this, we keep an eye on them for six months—make sure there are no 'accidents.' But your case is more complicated. It'd be irresponsible to let you walk out without any immediate backup. So, I'm offering you a position with Blackrock Solutions."
"A job?" Caspian's eyes widened, excitement flaring within him.
"That's right," the captain continued. "You'll be a field agent, assisting us in pursuing supernatural cases like the one you're currently tied up in. We work for the Church of the Night Goddess. Our unit is called Emissaries of the Night, but people like to call us 'Crows.' If you join us, you'll be in a lot of danger. You could opt for a civilian position, but given your… skill set, that probably wouldn't suit you."
Caspian grinned. "I think you remember how we met, right, officer? If catching bad guys and beating them up is what you need, I'm your man."
"Captain," he corrected. "Call me Captain from now on."
The captain gestured toward the knife. "Do you know what that is, Cassy?"
Caspian shrugged. "I might look like this, but I'm not that stupid, Captain. It's a knife! For stabbing, obviously."
The captain shook his head. "It's a relic, Cassy. Crafted by an artificer, giving it supernatural properties."
Caspian raised an eyebrow. "Ah, that makes sense. It was a little too sharp. I know what relics are; I just didn't realize this was one. Say, Captain, what's an artificer?"
"They're one of the paths of descension," the captain explained, but then he paused. "You know what—let me get Jack in here. He'll tell you the rest. I need to fill out some forms for your application."
The captain walked over and unlocked Caspian's handcuffs before heading out. Shortly afterward, Jack strolled into the room, cigarette in hand.
"Wow, no way! I thought you were done, kid."
Caspian crossed his arms, smirking. "You look barely older than me. The captain said you'd fill me in on the rest, he mentioned artificers."
Jack took a long drag from his cigarette before sitting down. "Ah, okay. I don't see the point—you're probably not going to remember half of this. Too many damn paths."
"I'll try my best," Caspian said, nodding earnestly.
Jack exhaled a puff of smoke and leaned back. "Alright, here's the deal. There are people in this world with supernatural abilities, and we group them into eight categories: Artificers, Farseers, Jesters, Scribes, Changelings, Priests, Apothecaries, and Puppet Masters."
"Wait—why do they have names like that?" Caspian interrupted, curiosity piqued.
"Well, it's based on the potions they drank to gain their powers," Jack explained. "Take Jesters, for example. They can copy the abilities of other paths and either throw them right back or store them for later use. They're the 'bad guys' we chase after. That's the kind of stuff you'll be dealing with if you take this job."
Caspian's eyes widened as he tried to wrap his head around it all.
Jack continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "But it's not all fun and games. Sometimes we lose control. I'm a Scribe, by the way. The problem with these potions? They don't just grant you power; they also carry the will of the creatures they come from. That will doesn't just disappear when you drink it. It's all too easy to lose yourself… and become a monster."
As Jack stood, his playful demeanor shifted entirely. "You wanted action, right? Welcome to the real world."
Caspian felt equal parts excited and afraid at jacks words.
Isn't this what I've always wanted? A way out of the streets ? Maybe a chance to build a family I can do this !
Suddenly, the captain opened the door. "Jack, come with me. We've got a case. Cassy, do you want to join us? It'll be dangerous, but we could use the extra help. Two members of Sleeping Forest are raising hell in the lower boroughs, and they're looking for you."
"I'm in! Let's go!" Caspian replied, his excitement bubbling over.
"Change your shirt first," Jack advised, eyeing him critically. "You look like a murderer."