"I'm sorry," Asinis said holding out a hand. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Let me help." He offered his arm, gently resting it upon the old man's shoulder, so he could choose to take it or not. He did, and Asinis hoisted the man, thinner than himself, to his one bad but only leg. "Come on." Asinis supported him as the old man used his walking stick. They hobbled back to the ring he'd occupied earlier. He sat down, and Asinis stooped to look through the bag. He frowned. "There isn't much left. I'm sorry." He handed the old man the sack, who lifted it and felt the depleted rations sagging at the bottom. He made a wry expression.

"It's something. Thank you, stranger."

"Will you be alright?" Asinis asked.

The old man chuckled behind a closed-lipped smile. "I appreciate your help young man. I hope, someday, I may return the favor. Though it seems unlikely, hmm?"

Asinis smiled wryly, and a foreign thought entered his mind. If only people like him had a place to go. The Empire's greatest weakness seemed to be caring for the poor. He shook his head and stood. "Eat. Before someone else comes along," he warned.

The old man nodded his thanks, and Asinis stepped away as the beggar opened his bag. Asinis paused to watch him fish around for something. A satisfied smile turned up his lips, one hand on his walking stick and the other wrapped around the sack top, but he didn't take anything out. Asinis ducked into a sparser part of town. Drunks staggered out of the pub he approached, but Asinis managed to skirt around them and pass into the alleyway beyond. He went into the backdoor of a building and found his way through stacked items toward the counter.

A pale-skinned elf, whose face revealed age uncanny in the fair race, sat behind it where he polished a globe. His shoulder-length hair was tied back, and he wore an apron over leather armor. Asinis leaned over the counter toward him.

“H-hello,” Asinis said.

“Hm,” the elf grunted.

“I’m sorry for interrupting, but I was wondering if you could help me.”

“And what business are you here for if not to purchase wares?” the elf asked.

“Ah—what is your name?” Asinis asked. He should be cordial if he wanted cooperation, or so he'd observed through watching Mr. Noarwin. Though Mr. Noarwin had a way of flirting with everyone that either put them at ease or made them infatuated. Incapable of such wiles, Asinis stuck with being polite.

“Afon,” he said.

“Afon. I. I’ve heard you get a lot of traffic through here—concerning spies and the like,” Asinis said. He shouldn't know, but his previous experience in the Cerulean Hatch exposed him to many secrets he never thought he'd find valuable.

Afon finally looked up at him, his chin raised to one side. His striking green eyes roamed Asinis up and down as if assessing a pig. “Oh? And from whom did you hear such information?”

“A young woman. Ah, look. I’m not actually interested in that sort of thing. I’m looking for her. Has she come by? I. I need her help,” Asinis said leaning in.

“And what young woman is that?” Afon asked.

“She changes her name, but the last I know is Gunilla. Do you know her?”

Afon glared at Asinis a while longer and then went back to polishing his globe. “No.”

Asinis's heart clenched. “Please. My friend and I have been implicated in a horrible thing that is bigger than us. Gunilla is the only one I can turn to. I can’t let my friend lose everything because of something not her fault.”

Afon’s hand stopped. “People get caught up in others' business all the time.” He glared at Asinis. “But that isn’t my concern. I don’t care what mess you’re in. It doesn’t change that I don’t know a Gunilla. Now, buy something or take yourself out of my shop.”

The glint of a dagger point caught Asinis’s eyes, and he looked down at the elven dirk peeking out from behind the counter at Asinis. Frustration and fear fought inside him until Afon’s glare forced him to take a step back.

“Thank you for your time.” Asinis turned, looking half confused as to which way he should exit, and then he made for the front door. He stepped out into the street, gloom spiraling in his stomach and curling off his shoulders. That was the only lead he had. What did he do if he couldn't find her? An arm wrapped around him and tugged him into a person’s side. He fought their grip—until he saw Mr. Noarwin smirking down at him.

“That didn’t go as planned, did it,” he said.

Asinis’s shoulders slumped. “I thought if I could find her—”

“Find who?” Mr. Noarwin asked.

Asinis shook his head. “I don’t know what she’s calling herself now but. I think she has something to do with all of this.”

“And you didn’t care to share that information earlier?” Mr. Noarwin asked.

“I didn’t want to accuse her without speaking to her first.”

“And what has you suspecting this friend?”

Asinis’s chin dimpled as he pouted into his coat collar. “Because she’s part of an organization that seeks to quench magic.”

“Mr. Asinis. You and I have a lot to discuss. Come with me.” Mr. Noarwin tugged Asinis and then let go of him.

Asinis stumbled without his support, but he trudged behind Mr. Noarwin past more buildings toward the pub Asinis had earlier avoided. Mr. Noarwin went in. Asinis lifted his head toward the sign hanging over the entrance. It read Serpent’s Beguile. His lip lifted in a disgusted snarl, and then he shuddered and pushed through the door. Golden candlelight and a glow from a fire lit the interior. It felt cold despite the number of bodies and the presence of steaming food. It smelt of drink both sour and sweet. Mr. Noarwin sent one of the maids a flirtatious smile, and then he claimed a table among the several patrons of various color and size. Asinis joined him, and the barmaid came over.

“What will it be for you t’night Mr. Noarwin?” she asked.

“A brew for myself and my friend, Lefia, darling," he said leaning back and crossing his ankles on a third chair at the table.

“I don’t have—” Asinis piped up to protest, but Mr. Noarwin cut him off.

“It’s on me, Mr. Asinis. Thank you Lefia.” Mr. Noarwin flashed her a smile, and Lefia went on her way, collecting more orders as she passed tables toward the bar. “Now.” Mr. Noarwin rested his forearm on the table and leaned across it toward Asinis. “Who is this woman you suspect of dealing in the accident you’re being accused of instigating?”

“She’s a wizard, like me. But she’s lacking in ability. Others like her, who can do magic but are unable to make proper use of it, have banded together..." The smell of fresh bread warmed his insides, and his mouth watered. He cleared his throat when he realized Mr. Noarwin watched and shrugged deeper into his shoulders. "They want to destroy magic altogether and force a world without it. They think it will bring equality and improve life through more organic means.”

“I can’t think of anything more organic than magic. They have an alternative solution?”

“They seem to. I don’t know.”

Lefia returned and set their mugs down. “Is that all, Mr. Noarwin?”

“I’m afraid so, darling. You and I will have to catch up another time.”

Lefia nodded and left their table.

“You say this woman changes her name? What has she had in the past?” Mr. Noarwin asked.

“Daliah, Gessy, Ruby, and the last I know of is Gunilla,” Asinis said. He wrapped his hands around the tin mug and peered into the liquid inside. He sniffed it. No alcohol. He took a sip but wasn't sure what the sweet, bubbly drink could be.

“And what does she look like?” Mr. Noarwin asked.

“She changes that too.” Asinis held up his arm to indicate the ring he wore.

Mr. Noarwin narrowed his eyes. “Then why didn’t you know how it worked?”

“I’ve never used one, and she never explained it. Given her limitations, I assume she’s acquired something like this. I don't know for sure.”

“She isn’t able to change her appearance through means of her own spellcasting?” Mr. Noarwin asked.

“No. She's not that powerful, and if her group is really trying to get rid of magic, then I can’t imagine she’d have much ability in it at all without one of these. Her use of magic would fail like anyone else's without a source of mana.”

“Unless her group is intending to monopolize it for themselves.”

Asinis’s face grayed over, and he swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. He hadn't expected that reaction and tried to disguise his ailment. “That would be—very bad,” he managed.

“And why is that? Aside from the obvious,” Mr. Noarwin asked with the raise of one eyebrow.

“Because they hate the queen.”

The corner of Mr. Noarwin’s lip lifted in a wry smile. “So now we have the threat of treason on our hands. Mr. Asinis. You bring nothing but bad news.”

Asinis’s head drooped. He didn't know how to help or make his bad news better.

“Finish your drink," Mr. Noarwin said. "After that, you and I will turn in for whatever remains of the night.”

Asinis lifted a hand from where he kept it clasped with the other on his lap and did as he was told, not feeling the eyes that were watching him.