“Arbus! My old undead friend. How are you?” Scott said as he entered the room. Rather than being alone, there were two men in the room. One looked to be around fifteen or sixteen with red eyes and dirty blonde hair. Not only that, but he shared the same pale complexion as Mary, and a face that showed even less emotion than she did. The boy wore a loose black suit, with the top three buttons of his shirt undone, and no tie. Despite our loud entrance, he barely seemed to acknowledge us as we came in. The other man, on the other hand, did notice us, and quickly turned to look at us with shock in his glaring eyes.

He had dark black skin, and was dressed in a brown suit with short black hair. Unlike Scott, this man seemed to carry himself with a sense of dignity and pride similar to Director Langston. Though he was in a bit of shock from Scott bursting in, that turned into a frown the moment he actually saw Scott. I don’t know what their history was, but it seemed like a lot of people didn’t like Scott. How he managed to stay an agent of the Table for this long was beyond me.

The room itself was similar to Mary’s room in size, but instead of bookshelves stacked in a maze, it was open, with wooden filing cabinets on each wall, with a desk in the center of the room. A few files lined the desk, along with some writing utensils and a typewriter. Other than the cabinets, there were some small paintings that resembled sunny beaches from different parts of history. It was almost as if he chose them out of a desire to visit them.

“Why don’t you ever greet me properly, you drunk ass?” The dark-haired man asked Scott whilst seeming jokingly offended. Although there was some dissatisfaction with Scott’s introduction, he also seemed to be happy to see him.

“Ten? You’re still here? I would have thought you would have left on another mission by now,” Scott said, confused. He also did not want to admit that he was happy to see his brother. They both knew it, but they also respected each other enough to hide it for the other's sake.

“For the last time, it’s COMPTON! And I am on a mission, one that is top secret,” Compton yelled, losing his patience. The moment Compten heard the old nickname that Scott knew he hated, Compton couldn’t help but lose his composure.

“It didn’t sound so top secret when you told me,” the younger man said with a bit of sass that could not be expressed in either his tone or his facial expression, but instead, in his delivery. Compton shot him a glare, a threat for him to shut up.

“You told Arbus but you're not willing to tell me? I’m hurt that you think of me as less of a friend than Arbus,” Scott said with a sadly dramatic flair that only seemed to make things a bit awkward for everyone.

The two continued to argue with each other, along with the occasional butt in from Arbus. I felt as if we were witnessing some drama that didn’t concern me and I should avoid. Elysif was apparently thinking the same thing, since we both backed out of the room quietly and shut the door slowly. Once the door was shut, we both let out a deep sigh, before looking at each other. Neither of us wanted to be a third wheel in that mess.

“We should probably leave them be. Scott and Uncle Compton will probably want to talk for a bit,” Elysif said.

“Agreed…” I said. Then I realized what she had just said and became a bit confused. “Wait, uncle?”

“Yeah. Scott and Compton were raised together, so they’re like brothers. I just call him Uncle because it’s easier,” Elysif explained.

“I see, that makes sense. Though it seemed like they weren’t on the best of terms,” I replied.

“That’s just how they are. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them actually mad at each other,” Elysif stated.

“Okay. Well, that’s good,” I said. After that, we began wandering back toward the large circular room. One thing about what she said stuck with me though. It was gonna eat at me until I knew, so I quickly asked, “One thing. You refer to Compton as your uncle, but he’s Scott’s brother. Does that mean that you see Scott as a father?”

Elysif tensed up at this question. Though she seemed more surprised by the question than bothered by it. With a poorly forced smile, she answered, “He’s more like an older brother to me. Though, when Silva was still alive, they treated me like a daughter. After that, though, Scott grew colder.”

“... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked,” I said, getting quiet. The awkward silence between us as we continued strolling around allowed me to think a bit. I know I was trying to have a good conversation, but I just made it bring back bad memories.

“I wonder where we are staying for the night? I’m getting rather tired,” Elysif asked as we roamed, breaking the silence.

“I don’t know, but I’m getting tired too. Maybe Scott’s father-in-law can help us find a place?” I replied. Perhaps she was just letting it go? I hoped so.

“What can I help you with?” a voice said from behind. It shocked Elysif and me to the point where we both jumped forward. Then we both realized it was Scott’s father-in-law, Aaron.

“You scared us there. We were wondering where we might be staying for the night. Maybe you could help us?” Elysif asked.

Aaron thought for a moment, before finally answering, “There is a fine hotel run by a Witches Coven that is on good terms with the Table. You could stay there,” he said as he stroked his chin.

“Is there anywhere else?” Elysif asked awkwardly.

“Oh, right. I forgot about your issue with Covens, Elysif, and I was wrong to offer it. There might be a few spare rooms in the main Castle. I could ask, if you would like.” he replied apologetically.

“It’s fine. Please ask for us, if possible,” she replied with a slight bow. He bowed in return, and stepped away. Stopping mid-step, he turned back to us. “Oh, and before I forget. Lou, I believe you still only have a knife as your weapon. If you would like, you can go to the armory and find yourself a better weapon now that you’re an official agent.”

‘Thank you, I will,” I replied, smiling with a thankful nod, and he continued his advance down the hall. What a nice man.

Not long after Aaron had left, we realized that I had forgotten to ask where the Armory was, and to top it off, Elysif didn’t know where it was either. She and I wandered around for a bit, trying to ask where the armory was from any person we came across. Some gave us horrible directions, while others ignored us. In our search, we found several offices, storerooms, and even a ballroom of sorts. I’m pretty sure the ballroom was actually a training room that doubled as an event room or something like that, but I had no clue. We eventually found the armory, along with an older man that wasn't too happy to have us waltzing into his workplace unannounced. There wasn’t much in the armory other than a few shelves stacked with boxes that were all labeled differently, and a counter to separate people from it. On the side of the armory opposite the counter, was a smithing area where a furnace and anvil sat cold, with several tools hanging on the wall next to it.

“Hello, I am a new agent of the Table and was told to come here for a better weapon by Director Langston,” I said to the man at the counter, showing him my badge.

“What exactly do you need? Weapons change depending on what you’re trying to take care of. That, and where you are. Some weapons you want to conceal, and others you want to be exposed,” the old man said.

“I’m not sure what weapon I want. I have this silver dagger, but I need something made of Iron for dealing with Willowisps, and also something silver for anything else I come across. Though I would like to still be able to use it in London,” I explained.

He pondered for a second, before pulling a box off the shelf. Then, he opened it up to reveal a six-shot revolver with a detachable silver blade on the underside of the barrel. With it, he gave me an iron blade to replace the silver one whenever I needed to. Beside it, he set a box of iron bullets and another with silver bullets. It would work perfectly if I knew anything about guns other than from the video games I played. I guess I would have to figure that out pretty soon. While I was admiring the craftsmanship of the gun, he set a leather holster with a slot to hold the extra blade next to it.

Elysif also asked for a coat with Iron thread sewn into it. He asked her size, and then got her the coat from another shelf. I wish I could have gotten one of those, but sadly, he didn’t have any in my size. The old man then held out his hand covered in burn scars. “Your badge, please,” he said as if it were a business transaction. Taking my badge out, I handed it to him, but I was unsure as to why he needed it. The old man looked at the badge and shook his head.

“How much experience in battle do you have?” he asked with a sympathetic look.

“I killed a changeling with a coin and got stabbed in the gut. I’ve also been beaten up a lot by Scott Langston,” I answered honestly. Elysif gave me a look that told me I said too much, but I’m sure that the old man knew I was joking… kind of. The old man let out a grumpy sigh, before reaching under the counter and pulling out two tiny metal stars.

“If you’re with Scott, then you should be fine. The man is a capable warrior. Though we can’t have a one-star agent going against something like a Willowisp. The higher-ups don’t like having to explain to our patrons that, because we are short-handed, we keep sending low-ranking members on dangerous missions to fill the ranks, so we’ll promote you two stars today,” the old man said with a smile of his condolences.

I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just looked from him to Elysif and back to him, concerned. Ignoring my reaction, he quickly pinned the stars to the top of the metal badge. With a quick slap of a hammer, the stars were set in place. Then, pulling a piece of paper and a stamp pad from under the counter, he began listing out the equipment with a quill-tipped pen. Once he had the items listed out, the old man placed my badge on the stamp pad and stamped the bottom of the paper with it. After stamping it, the badge was wiped off with a wet rag and handed back to me.

“The items are yours now. However, if you leave the service of the Table, then we will require those items back. If any of it is destroyed or lost, then you will have to submit a lost item report so that we don’t try tracking you down for an item that is no longer in your possession. Do you understand?” the old man asked as if he were tired of saying it so often. After doing so, he rested his arm overtop of the equipment. The aura radiating off him sent a chill down my spine. It wasn’t a threatening aura, though, this was the aura of a battle-hardened warrior. It was so chilling, in fact, that Elysif and I looked physically drained.

“Of course,” I agreed. He nodded his head, and stepped back from the counter so we could take our equipment. As he did, his aura subsided and we felt normal. Was it magic? No way, that was just pure charisma.

“Then, till we meet again, fellow warriors…” The old man nodded and returned to what he had been doing before we arrived.

Somewhat… satisfied, we left the Armory, only to bump into Director Langston again. Telling us he found an open room for us, the Director led us there. Once the Director got us settled in, he left to find Scott, while Elysif and I had to figure out the solution to another dilemma. Who was going to sleep where?

There was a single oversized bed and a small hardwood couch in the room, but there were three of us. We decided that since Scott wasn’t there to speak his opinion, he didn’t get a choice in the matter. The couch was practically all hardwood except for a thin red cushion on the seat. Neither of us wanted it, so it came down to a mutual agreement; that Scott would get the couch and we would share the bed. However, it was made very clear that Elysif would dissect me and not put me back together if I crossed into her side of the bed. And here I thought we had a bonding moment by avoiding Scott and his family issues.