Ewan Decimus Squallbreak

I looked closely at the girl before me. Her eyes appeared to pierce my soul. Well when I say girl I’d best be more specific. It was clear that she was likely to be around eighteen, but could be in reality twenty one. Now I know what you are thinking, nice young lady, piercing eyes, probably wearing red lipstick, with clothes that highlight her voluptuous figure, consisting of a large chest and long slim legs, very attractive. Well you’d be partially right. She was very attractive, being a similar age to me, yet she had an unpainted face, with a moderate chest size, her limbs were long and slender, but her height was petite. What was most attractive about her, were her sharp eyes, which shifted from being a light jade to an emerald green, as well as her short scruffy mop of black hair.

Now it is possible that whilst I was beginning my description of the scene, you were looking forward to a popular stereotype of what this young lady should look like. But then, I have no reason to lie to you either way.

So here I am sitting opposite a woman with piercing green eyes, scruffy black hair and wearing a uniform. Not I might add a sharp uniform of one of the law enforcement or military agencies: nor was it the elegant uniforms of a barrister or of a shop worker: it could even have been the unruly look that loosely translates as a uniform of one of the gangs which roam the streets of this city. No this was a thick leather boiler suit, which covered a green work shirt, the only presentable part of the uniform. The logo on the shirt and on the boiler suit revealed that she was part of one of the steam companies. The logo more commonly had a wheel motif on either side, but this variation had wings. One of the air branches of the WLM company. It was quite common for me to see the largely male crews pass along the platform. This is probably the point where I should explain where I am. As you may be able to tell, the place I’m in is above a railway station, smoke frequently billows through the windows. But it is not and office. It is an office for quite a few people, going by the name of ‘The Bridge’ public house, situated as a bridge over the lines.

I sipped my pint, the girl followed suit. I finally broke the silence which had been hanging between the two of us. “So Riona was it? What was it you need to see me about?”

Riona lowered her pint.

Riona Victoria Skyblaze

Currently I am sitting in a large smoky bar overlooking the main railway station of the city. Opposite me is a scruffily dressed man; likely to be a student, especially from the short but poorly kept beard which just surrounds his muzzle. It has taken nearly three days to talk to someone from this section of the university. The others were busy with research or unavailable. I even started my search in this pub, before visiting those connected to the department in question, sent pillar to post. When I finally got word of this individual, I was told that he would be at his office. When I found he had no office I tracked him down to his residence, where there was no answer. Only when a passer by told me the location of his office did I finally find him. Once I met him he politely bought me a pint after I introduced myself. Since then he has looked at me in adoration.

We both took a brief drink of our pints, before he asked, “So Riona was it? What was it you need to see me about?”

I paused briefly before replying. “You really are a difficult person to track down Mr Squallbreak. I couldn’t find anyone else in the university’s History department with your peculiar specialism. Very few know focus on occultism when there are other departments with that knowledge.”

“It’s not a specialism really, just an interest.”

“But you do have a baccalaureate with that as a specialism.”

“But that was just one of many areas of study. You could hardly call it a specialism. The tutors gave a good comprehensive selection of study.”

“Yet it is the beings of the mist which interest you, as well as the growth in those able to manipulate it.”

He looked at me, with an expression of thoughtfulness and crossness. “Yes. I am interested in that subject. Is this line of questioning actually going anywhere?”

I decided to drop the subject, sighing in resignation. I reached down into the satchel I had brought with me and passed him the reason for my meeting.

“I hoped you could help me with something.”

Ewan Decimus Squallbreak

Riona lifted a newspaper from her satchel and placed it in front of me with the front page laying face up in front of me. The main picture was of sketch of an airship surrounded by storm clouds.

“So what is it you want me to look at?”

She pointed to the headline relating to the airship.

Airline Devastated By Unidentified Raiders

On the 22nd of February the airship ‘the queen Sufeila’ came under attack whilst crossing the Caerlaich mountains. Upon landing yesterday it became clear of the scale of the incident. As investigators boarded the vessel the absence of any activity and overall silence was unnerving according to ms. Amiee Treestrom the Detective Sergeant leading the investigation. Of the 450 passengers and crew that were onboard the ‘Sufeila’, only twenty were found alive, along with the bodies of twenty others. The survivors gave descriptions of winged figures dragging away those on board. The Western Land Mass Company, owners of the ‘Queen Sufeila’ have subsequently placed all Vailiekin, Teufeii and Selkie staff under investigation.

I looked up at Riona. “So it is this incident with the airship you want me to look at. But as you said this is possible connected with the supernatural and the mystic races. Indeed it would be of an advantage to have a human look into this.”

I watched her nod slightly; the fringe of hair fell away briefly revealing a small tattoo on the forehead, disappearing into the hairline: a peroun mark. I smiled.

“It seems we both appear to be hiding our connections to the supernatural.”

Riona’s expression turned dark. The air around the table seemed to change to a tense and violent atmosphere amongst the jollity of the bar. I began to fear the wrath of this girl just from her emerald green eyes. The mark began to change with her mood.

Riona Victoria Skyblaze

“It seems we both appear to be hiding our connections to the supernatural.”

Upon hearing that, I began to fear for my life. This man of whom I had only known for less than half an hour had noticed that mark. I knew he would soon work out my other reasons for visiting him. If he was not trustworthy he may make turn me in after this meeting: the use of supernatural abilities is highly restricted within the larger nations, especially the three imperial nations of Leyoness, Vorsk and SuKanen.

I looked at Ewan angrily, who put his hands up in surrender.

“Sorry shouldn’t have pressed on that subject.” He looked up and stared deep into my eyes. “Don’t worry I won’t say anything. I still don’t know what it is you want with me.”

I looked at him quizzically; did I misjudge him?

“I believe the possibility of the event in that article is of interest to both of us; you are interested in how the supernatural and occult affect our world’s history. For me I am a fellow student of the university, the WLM Company employ me part time in administration. You have probably worked out that I am under investigation for being one of the mystic races.”

He nodded.

I breathed in, “What I’d like you to do is research what happened on the aircraft.”

“You’ve already shown me what happened.” he interrupted with a mischievous smile on his face, “I know what you mean. See if there has been any similar incident in the newspapers.”

“Precisely.”

“How long do we have?”

I lifted my pint, finishing it whilst pausing to think. “Probably a week in the archives. We will move our investigation elsewhere once we have some sort of a basis. I presume you will have more idea than me.”

“You want me to just muddle through.”

“Yes. I’ll check up with you in three days time, if all goes well.”

Ewan smiled “Good planning. But wouldn’t it be quicker if we worked together in the research, especially since a smart girl like you is also at the university. On that should you not be able to do the research yourself? Why do you need me?”

“I;” I stumbled, “I take a practical based art course. Fashion design: so you know.”

He smirked, laughing silently to himself, as he began to drink from his pint.

Ewan Decimus Squallbreak

I smiled to myself. This girl was a trainee fashion designer. Well I’ll try and get her assistance in the research. “Well, I guess you have lectures to go to and clothes to sew, but how about this. Any free time you have, we work on the research together. At the end of each day we compile notes and see what we have found. It would be quicker and we may be able to meet our one week deadline.”

“There may be a problem.”

“How, so?” I asked in slight puzzlement, before it hit me as she began to speak.

“I’m under investigation in connection with the incident. Me and twelve others in my office are believed to be the leak.”

I nodded, “so anything unusual will cause suspicion.”

“Yes.”

I looked thoughtfully into my beer, before finishing it and looking back at Riona. “Your round: lass.”

Riona Victoria Skyblaze

I rose slowly, picking up both of our empty glasses before I headed towards the bar. The whole place was filled with steam as a train passed underneath, soot settling on some of the tables like a flurry of black snowflakes. The bar was situated in the middle of the pub, so I was spared the choking steam with the thick smog filled city air, well to some extent. My flesh tingled around the peroun marks, which covered my body like a set of slowly multiplying scars: for that reason humans have it easy. They cannot sense the mist. Neither are they under any magical restrictions. I lifted the two glasses of beer and headed back towards Ewan. The air slowly mutated into a soup. Voices were carried across the room, whispering in a forgotten tongue not meant to be heard. I approached Ewan, who was wearing an expression of concern on his face.

“Such mournful sounds are the voices that the mist carries. The words are beauty in themselves; we can hear them because we are sensitive to them.”

I watched as Ewan willed sparks to appear, allowing them to dance across his palm.

“You’re a wych born.” I scrutinised after that display.

“And you Riona are a Vailiekin, correct?”

I sat down and looked at him crossly. “How could you tell?”

“Several clues: firstly your peroun mark, the design is similar to that of the fey, but I doubted that you were Sylvain or a Peri, the mark had some variation that showed some difference to them. What confirmed it for me was your back.”

“My, back?” I looked at him in shock. Surely he couldn’t have noticed my wings, I thought I had hidden them well with their mutable aura, which had reduced their size from their full twenty foot span.

“Yes. The back of your neck: to be more precise. You’ve either had your wings removed or have hidden them well. It was the small line of feathers which fades into your hairline. Other than that I had no clear idea.”

I allowed myself to smile. “You had no idea? So it was some chance deductions and a lucky guess.”

“correct.” He slowly lifted his pint, smiling smugly to himself.