Amon entered the bank with a gentle smile as she greeted the clerk.

“How may I help you today?”

“My husband asked me to grab something from his safe deposit box. Farran Irvain?”

The clerk nodded as they pulled out a file with Farran’s name, perusing the written information with a critical eye. “And your name?”

“Maxine.”

“I need a signature card and key.”

Amon produced what Farran had given her, praying to whatever gods were listening that he did not deceive her. She would like to avoid necromantic rituals for as long as possible.

The clerk checked the information and nodded their head. “Very well, come with me.”

Amon followed the clerk deeper into the bank. However, as she walked, she could have sworn eyes were following her as she descended the stairs to the lower levels. The feeling didn’t dissipate after she got the cash or even after she left the bank and headed toward her second task for the day, which happened to be in the same neighborhood.

The cool afternoon breeze outside caressed her skin, though it did not feel the same with the glamour in place. There was a stiffness against the magickal barrier, as though she were wearing a veil. But she could not say she minded—her skin didn’t feel like it was being scrubbed raw by the wind anymore.

Upper Noatten was a great deal nicer than any other part of the city, rivaled only by Embassy Row and the Palace. Buildings were more spread out—luxurious manors with gilded gates guarded by Guardians, who watched her pass with wary glances. Even if they didn’t know who exactly her employer was, they were not permitted to intervene based on their oaths. It gave her a little satisfaction to know that the oh-so-powerful beings must have cursed her silently as she continued up the street uninterrupted.

Amon’s mind wandered back to Farran and his family. She knew the Kratises Brothers were harsh, but to be so vicious… she suspected there was something either he or Faraldin neglected to tell her.

As long as it doesn’t interfere with the job, it’s better not to know.

Thinking of Faraldin… which family did he hail from? If he indeed came from her House, how had she never heard of him in all her studies? An opportune time never came to ask, nor did she think he would offer any information. 

The one time she asked about his actual surname, he said: “It is something I gave up a long time ago and have no plans of dredging up. Letting the name be lost to time is better than having my current deeds sully it.”

Which led her to think… should she consider the same? If she ever got the chance to leave the Sky, to lead a normal life on the Surface, it would be better if both of her names were forgotten; both the one that tied her to her family and her first name—the one her father passed on to her, and his father gave to him, and so on to the beginning of their House’s formation.

She looked down at the back of her left hand. Try as she might, there would still be one thing forever tying her to the House of Starlight. Maybe one day, she would learn just what this Mark meant. Until then, it was more trouble than it was worth. 

With a sigh, she double-checked the addresses. She was getting close. This job should be the easier of the two—a simple package drop-off.

The Guardians at the gate glared at her as she handed it to them with a simple smile.

“From Minister Han,” she said.

They didn’t look like they believed her, glancing over her plain clothes. But one of them still brought it inside as the other waved her away.

She walked with a slight pep in her step as she headed back to rejoin the more normal districts of the city. These parts just reminded her of home… of ash and screams… of blood and ruin…

Her ears rang and she looked up.

Outside one of the last houses on the block, several Shadowfaen fought the guardsmen outside the gates.

Amon stood frozen in place, watching the monsters make minced meat out of the more than capable Guardians. She should have run as soon as she spotted them.

By the time her senses caught up to her, it was too late.

The Shadowfaen turned to face her, screeching. The shrieks flowed against her ears like a warm fire.

Amon doubted she could pull off the same thing she did with the Captain.

However, a similar anomaly occurred just like that day. The creatures did not attack. They watched her as she did them, their scarlet eyes seeming to pierce into her soul as they looked intently for something.

One of them stepped towards her, clicking its tongue. Master…? Its voice curled inside her mind; a touch of longing weaved in between the words.

Amon clenched her fists. No, she wouldn’t make such a mistake.

“Duck!”

Amon followed the command without thinking, just in time to see a gilded trident arc above her. Her muscles locked into place. It took a great deal of effort to turn her head and see a trio of Wanderers behind her, their masks resembling sea creatures.

The trident pierced one of the Shadowfaen. A blazing violet light lit up the street before it collapsed into a heap of ash. The others, perhaps realizing what fate awaited them, sprinted away in the opposite direction, toward the woods beyond the district.

One of the men gave chase whilst the other two approached her. The size difference between them was startling—the larger and bulkier man was wearing a sea serpent mask, and the other, of a leaner build, was wearing one of a sea dragon.

The former held out his hand in the air. The trident left the pile of ash and drifted back into his hand.

The one with the dragon mask reached out to her. “Are you alright, madame?”

Amon recoiled, unable to ignore that they were—unknowingly—supposed to be hunting her.

“Are you injured?” The other asked.

They spoke in the Common tongue. While she could understand them, that did not mean Amon had any way to properly respond.

She lifted herself, brushing off her pants and adjusting the satchel that held the cash from Faran’s box. She couldn’t risk them seeing it.

“Amos, do you think she hit her head when falling?” The serpent-masked person addressed the other, his voice deep and soothing.

She couldn’t help but glare at him, his golden eyes peering at her from behind his mask. Pink energy swirled around him, giving off hints of concern. It would have been enduring if it came from another source. But for now, she needed to be off before her situation worsened.

She gave a short wave and turned.

“Wait,” Amos grabbed her elbow and tugged her in their direction. It took everything within Amon to refrain from shaking, though the hand at her side wobbled a bit.

“We’ll need to question her, won’t we?” Amon peered up at his mask, noting the same colored eyes as the other.

An odd color. Maybe it’s common where they hail from.

The larger man huffed, appraising her. Amon worked hard to keep her composure. If they left her alone, she could return straight away. Faraldin no doubt heard of what happened at Farran’s. The sooner she got back, the better.

“She looks terrified. We would be better off making sure she made it home safe.”

‘Safe.’ She wanted to scoff. Such a state of living didn’t exist for her anymore, especially with the Shadowfaen. The way they watched her and called her ‘Master’… it all left a sour taste in her mouth.

Amos leaned down to be at eye level with her. 

“Look, it’s dangerous in the city to be wandering around without a companion. One of the Kishpu-La’atzu members is using the Shadowfaen to get revenge on the Emperor, and everyday citizens like you are the primary targets.”

His words rang in her head. She stilled.

Does he mean me? Do they think I’m controlling those creatures?

“At least let us bring you to the closest rail station. You can find your own way home in the busier districts.”

Amon nodded, though her mind was still stuck on Amos’ implication.

If they thought she was behind it, then she truly wouldn’t know peace in the Skies.