Morning light spilled across Charles's face as he stood by his front door, leaning on the same silver-headed cane he had used the previous night. Though he still moved gingerly, color had returned to his cheeks, and his injury seemed to have improved greatly. Joseph arrived in a carriage and, upon stepping down, immediately smiled at the sight of his friend.
"Good morning, Joseph," Charles greeted with a wry smile.
"Morning," Joseph replied. "How's your leg holding up today?"
"Much better, thanks to your help," Charles said appreciatively.
"Glad to hear it. Well then, shall we be off?" Joseph motioned for Charles to join him.
Charles nodded and carefully climbed into the carriage. Joseph watched with mild concern, but once Charles was settled, he climbed in after him. They took seats facing each other as the driver urged the horses forward.
"So, how's the injury?" Joseph asked once they were underway.
"As you can see, it's nearly healed," Charles replied, tapping the cane lightly. "And thanks again for lending me this."
Joseph gave an approving nod. The carriage rattled along, gradually merging into a busier part of the city. Pedestrians and wagons filled the morning streets, everyone bustling about under the clear, gentle sunlight. People were beginning their daily routines, and the noise and movement gave the day a lively start.
"Nervous about your first day on the job?" Joseph asked, glancing at Charles.
"A bit," Charles admitted, his tone betraying a hint of anxiety. "I hope I live up to your uncle Edward's expectations."
"He must see a lot of potential in you," Joseph reassured him. "It's not every day he personally recommends someone."
"I'll do my best not to disappoint him," Charles said firmly.
Before long, the carriage entered the outer ring of the royal district, an area populated by various government offices. They soon pulled up in front of a large, imposing building. The grand stone façade and sweeping pillars underscored the importance of the organization housed within. As Charles stepped down from the carriage, he tilted his head back to read the plaque mounted above the wide entrance:
"Department of Supernatural Suppression and Protection."
"We're here," Joseph announced, following Charles onto the pavement.
Charles inhaled deeply, taking in the sight. This was the day he would formally begin his new role under Edward Cavendish and Joseph. Though a subtle anxiety lingered, curiosity and excitement overshadowed his nerves.
"You ready?" Joseph asked.
"Yes," Charles answered, gripping the cane a little tighter. "Let's go."
They walked through the broad doors into a busy reception area, where officials bustled to and fro. Some eyed Charles, clearly noting the unfamiliar face, but Joseph ignored the stares and guided him upstairs. On the second floor, they approached a desk stationed outside a stately office. A young woman sat there, paging through documents.
"Miss Amelia," Joseph addressed her politely, "is Chief Edward in right now?"
She smiled warmly. "Yes, he's expecting you. Go on in."
Joseph inclined his head in thanks and opened the door, Charles trailing close behind. Inside was a spacious office with high shelves of books and files. Sitting behind a large desk was a tall, broad-shouldered middle-aged man. His graying brown hair was neatly brushed, and a faint scar on his cheek hinted at a life of hardship. This was Edward Cavendish.
"Good morning, Chief Edward," Joseph said with respect.
Edward glanced up from a pile of paperwork and offered a curt nod. "Good morning, Joseph." He turned his gaze to Charles. "You've arrived, Charles."
Charles fought the urge to stand straighter. "Yes, sir. Good morning."
"Welcome to our unit," Edward told him in a measured, low voice. "I trust your investigative skills will be of great help in our current case." Then he looked to Joseph. "See that he gets the necessary equipment and a proper briefing."
"Understood." Joseph gestured for Charles to follow him. They left the office and headed back downstairs, eventually arriving at a well-lit corridor lined with rooms. The corridor bustled with staff hauling files, conferring in quiet tones, or handing over small, peculiar instruments. Charles found himself scanning everything with unhidden curiosity.
Joseph noticed. "Feeling overwhelmed?"
Charles gave a self-conscious grin. "It's… a lot to take in. Everything's so new. It's like I've stepped into another world."
"Don't worry," Joseph said, clapping a reassuring hand on Charles's shoulder. "Everyone is new at some point. I'll be here to guide you."
"Thanks," Charles said. "I appreciate it."
They reached a door with a small sign that read "Equipment Office." Joseph led Charles inside. A friendly-looking officer stood up to greet them.
"May I help you?"
"I'm escorting a new recruit," Joseph explained, nodding toward Charles. "He needs his standard-issue gear."
"Ah, of course. Right this way." The officer led them to a long table by the wall. Neatly arrayed on its surface were various tools and items, each with a small explanatory label.
"This," the officer said, picking up a polished pocket watch, "is given to every field operative. Beyond simply telling time, the internal gears will spin and alert you. Should someone in your vicinity use elevated powers, you'll hear a sort of deep, resonant chime in your head—only you will hear it—and the gears will spin faster the closer you are to the source."
Charles nodded in fascination as he carefully took the watch in hand. He felt the cool metal weight and marveled at the intricate mechanics inside.
"Well?" Joseph asked with a teasing smile. "What do you think?"
"It's amazing," Charles admitted, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "I've always wanted one of these advanced pocket watches. I hear they're based on Sarnian clockwork designs?"
"They are," Joseph confirmed. "And this one has some extra modifications unique to our department. Take good care of it."
Charles simply nodded, carefully tucking the watch away. Next, the officer handed him a folded piece of fabric.
"This is a handkerchief we issue as an alternative to a weapon," the officer explained. "Our kingdom's regulations ban carrying conventional arms openly, so this item was developed. Grasp one corner firmly, snap it sharply, and it transforms into a blade. It's how we discreetly stay armed without breaking the law."
Charles took the cloth, eyebrows lifted in interest. He tried giving it a quick flick, but nothing happened. Joseph suppressed a laugh.
"You have to snap it harder," he said, grinning.
Taking a deep breath, Charles flicked the cloth with all his might. A brief whoosh sounded, and suddenly, the handkerchief wasn't cloth anymore but a gleaming silver blade—long, slender, and keenly edged, with a black leather-wrapped hilt that fit perfectly in Charles's grip.
"That's…" Charles gaped, rotating the blade carefully to catch the light. "Incredible!"
The officer looked pleased by Charles's reaction. "With the enchantment cast upon it, it's as strong as a standard steel sword. Try returning it to its cloth form."
"How do I do that?" Charles asked, still transfixed by the glinting steel.
"Tap the pommel three times," the officer explained, "then run your finger along the spine of the blade from the hilt to the tip."
He followed the instructions, and the solid weight in his hand seemed to melt away, leaving only the soft folds of a handkerchief. Charles let out a quiet exhale of wonder as he slipped the now-ordinary cloth into his pocket alongside the pocket watch.
Lastly, the officer handed over a small vial filled with a thick, golden-red fluid. It resembled honey in consistency.
"This salve works wonders on wounds. It staunches bleeding, numbs pain, and speeds healing. Apply it directly to a fresh injury, and you'll feel relief in seconds. A cut will still take two or three days to fully heal, but this helps you stay in one piece."
Charles tilted the vial gently, recalling the salve that had helped him recover so swiftly from his leg wound. "So it's the same stuff you used on me yesterday?"
Joseph nodded. "Exactly. We always carry it for emergencies."
Charles's gaze dropped to the vial. "It really did help. I almost couldn't believe how quickly I healed."
"It's potent," Joseph agreed, "but we can't rely on it recklessly. Keep that in mind."
Charles gave a small nod, grateful for the reassurance such an item provided. "I will. Good to know we've got something like this if things go wrong."
Joseph agreed. "We're fortunate, though I hope we won't need to use it often."
With his new equipment in hand, Charles thanked the officer before following Joseph out. They soon found a staff member who helped Joseph arrange a training room for orientation. Once everything was signed off, Joseph led Charles down a quiet corridor to a modest room set aside for new-member instruction.
Soft lantern light fell over the wooden floors. Shelves lined the walls, containing books on supernatural lore, magical artifacts, and advanced contraptions. In the center of the space stood a plain wooden chair. Joseph dragged it a bit closer, the legs scraping gently on the floorboards, then motioned for Charles to sit.
"Have a seat," Joseph said gently. "We need to go over a lot of crucial information."
Charles lowered himself, heart pounding with anticipation. He looked up at Joseph, bracing himself for the mysteries he was about to unravel.