Thalia woke to muted sunlight, dogs barking, birds singing, the muted chatter of people beginning their day, and the piercing ringing of her alarm bell. Her eyes snapped open, immediately beginning her search for the annoying little thing, hoping it hadn’t gotten far. She was lucky to catch it early, the device sitting on the edge of her nightstand with its legs dangling over the edge. Its uncannily human face was turned toward her and Thalia was once again convinced there was a petty, mischievous intellect driving the thing. Eleanore swore up and down any item left her shop was nothing more than a complex machine, unable to think or feel. Thalia had her doubts, as the alarm clock her friend had gifted her seemed to delight in startling her awake. Crafted in the form of a little man, the figure was constructed of silver and was painstakingly fashioned into the likeness of a man in a military dress uniform. Strapped to its chest like a marching bass drum was a large, proportionally to its size, bell. Scale it up to human size and it would look like it was a member of the All King’s Day parade. It performed its function as an alarm clock by slapping its hands onto the bell in a swift staccato had the clapper inside careening back and forth wildly, creating a high pitched cacophony that felt like it would wake the dead.
Reaching out slowly, delicately, Thalia attempted to pat the automaton on its head, the trigger which would silence the devilish thing. She hoped one day it would make this easy, but today was not that day. The metal man adroitly leapt to its feet and lashed out, slapping her hand away. Thalia couldn’t help but let out a squeak and stuck the finger the thing had assaulted in her mouth to soothe the pain. She gave the annoying thing a venomous glare, and it returned the favor by thumbing its nose at her. Thalia rolled out of bed and onto her feet in a rage, but the little automaton was faster, hopping off the nightstand and onto the floor with a metallic clink. A series of tinkling musical sounds issued forth as it broke out into a run, each footstep making a distinctive clinking could barely be heard under the continuous ringing of the bell.
She let out a harsh curse under her breath as she scurried after the thing. The cursed creation wouldn’t stop until it was caught, and ignoring it wasn’t an option. It would follow her around the house at a distance, allowing for no peace. Although Thalia needed no more reason than simple petty annoyance to stop it, it was also true many of the townsfolk were wary of the automatons Eleanore created, the magic and mechanical machines she called Eidolons. Her neighbors just barely managed to stomach the fact she allowed it in her home, they’d not fare well with a drawn out morning commotion if she chose not to bother with the thing and let it run free. It took her two laps around her bedroom to catch the thing, leaving her feeling sweaty and filthy by the end of it. Thalia couldn’t help but feel like the machine let her catch it, couldn’t help but perceive a smug sort of aura coming off of it. Whatever Eleanore said, the device gave off the impression it was too clever for its own good. Still, it was a gift from a dear friend, and she’d not give it up easily. Her neighbors knew first hand, and no longer broached the subject of the alarm clock.
Thalia checked the time on the clock installed into the little automatons back, making sure she had enough time to bathe before she started her day, as she usually did since receiving the Eidolon from her friend. Thalia set the device in its place on her nightstand as she navigated to the bathroom adjoining her room. As she ran the tap she couldn’t help but remember Eleanore’s father, a brilliant man who had brought running water to the city of Midburg only fifteen years ago. Pioneering the modern sewage system, he’d turned the city from a filthy cesspool into something that was almost pleasant, and cities around the nation were following suit. Eleanore was racing to catch up to, and soon surpass, her father’s many achievements. Her Eidolon’s were critical creations that were going to change the nation, and perhaps even the world.
Thinking of the satisfaction her friend found in her work naturally led Thalia’s thoughts to her own work, and her dissatisfaction therein. Nothing had changed for the Warden so far, her superiors giving her the runaround as they ordered her to complete menial tasks and chores all around the office. Even the senior Wardens on the team found her busy work to do, keeping her well and clear of any acne of actually participating in the investigation. Her report regarding the two suspected smugglers she’d chased through town was taken and given to another team, the smuggler’s connection to the Faerie Dust investigation tenuous at best. She’d retraced her steps on her own time, always coming back to the storefront with the stunningly attractive owner. For some reason though, she couldn’t bring herself to step inside and speak with him again. It was true she had no reason to be there as a Warden, but she was on her own time. She didn’t feel like she was nervous to speak to the man, though his beauty might have warranted it. Whatever her nerves, finding the store had proven to be the real obstacle, as tracing her steps seemed to send her in circles.
She put any thought of work from her mind as the copper tub filled, sliding into the hot water and letting out a contented sigh. There were more things to life than work, like this bath, or the dinner she had scheduled with Eleanore on her next day off. She needed to visit her parents too, even though her father would badger her to quit the Wardens and come work at his shop. She found his concern sweet, even if he was a little pushy about his concern for her safety. Dinner with Eleanore though? was always enjoyable. Her thoughts idled for a moment as she daydreamed, fantasizing about good food and even better company. She was only slightly peeved when the Eidolon slapped its bell once, letting her know she had to get moving or she’d be late.
Thalia left the warm embrace of her bath with a sullen sigh, unplugging the drain and wrapping herself in a fluffy towel to dry. She finished getting ready in the bathroom, applying a light spread of cosmetics in a method she referred to as ‘professional style’ in her own head. She’d always worried senior Wardens and Inquirers would find too much makeup to be unprofessional, so she saved her energy for days off to get truly dolled up. She tied her hair back with a leather thong before slipping into her uniform, a routine was now optimized by experience. The straps and buttons of the uniform were done up quickly, brass buttons glimmering softly as she gave herself a once over in the still slightly foggy mirror. Satisfied with today’s look, which was every other work day’s look, she strode out of the bathroom, returning the small wave the Eidolon gave her as she left with a wave of her own.
She waved to her neighbors as she emerged into the morning light, several of them gathered together in the yard across the street to keep each other company as they washed clothes. Elsewhere along the street others brought in firewood, or scurried down quietly on their way to wherever they needed to be day, the occasional diminutive forms among them likely children headed to their apprenticeships. A few of the neighborhood brats had finally come of age at once, leaving the area quiet and empty. This neighborhood was one of the nicer in the city, and the families here paid well to see their children learning under the finest artisans, if they didn’t train them in the family business instead. Mikhail, her neighbor, emerged from his timber framed red brick home with a basket of clothes, clearly intending to join the others for the morning chore.
“No Alexander today? Did he manage to slip off before the sunrise again?” She teased. Alexander had a tendency to try and shirk what work he could and Mikhail had the tendency to let him.
“Boy hit his thirteenth year last winter. He’s off with his mother learning to smith.” Mikhail said, a sigh of relief close behind.
“Already? I could have sworn the boy lost a milk tooth just yesterday.” Thalia furrowed her brow, a little unnerved at the ruthless advance of time.
“Aye, I remember that!” Mikhail favored her with a good natured glare. “You told him fairies would come and steal his tooth if it didn’t come out soon. He was so scared he could hardly sleep until it came out.”
There was a moment of quiet happiness as the two of them remembered Alexander’s preoccupation with fairy bogeymen coming to steal his teeth. It was as sweet as it was brief, for Thalia had to get to work and Mikhail was eager to join the gossip-mongers circle around the wash basins. Thalia made her goodbyes, giving one last parting jab over her shoulder.
“Don’t fret too terribly about your empty nest.” She jabbed. Mikhail had always spoiled his children, and now his youngest was on his way to becoming an adult Mikhail wouldn’t know what to do with all the time on his hands.
“They grow up far too fast. You won’t be laughing when you’re in my shoes, mark my words.” Mikhail grumbled back, sassily slapping down his wash basin with the other’s. A hearty chuckle bubbled up out of Thalia as he scrubbed his clothes a little more viciously than he had to.
Her pace picked up all on its own as she fell into her usual rhythm. Thalia’s pace had always been brisk and business-like even before she had managed to get into the Wardens, and it served her well as she navigated through the crowd of her fellow pedestrians. Her neighborhood wasn’t far from Hob Street, one of the main thoroughfares cut through the middle of the city and acted as the economic heart of Midburg. Skilled craftsmen operated out of a variety of storefronts, interspersed with stores that saw to every conceivable need. Indeed, the First Bank of Midburg called Hob its home, its elegant marbled exterior standing out against the gray stone streets and red brick buildings around it. It loomed proudly over the intersection of Hob Street and Parade Boulevard, aptly named for the celebrations all but shut it down each season. Wagons and palanquins pushed past each other in a dance brought them all frightfully close to colliding. Pedestrians, far more delicate, flowed like water around the outskirts of the square in distinct clumps that were large enough to fight for right of way. Stalls crouched in front of storefronts where they could, temporary constructions made permanent by no more than the passage of time and the patchwork repair of their owners, who hawked wears with loud cries and wild gesticulations.
The place was rife with opportunity for pickpockets, and every day passed without a traffic accident was a miracle in and of itself. She wisely kept her coin purse tucked away, though her aura as a Warden was enough to drive most would-be thieves to easier prey. Without breaking stride she slapped a coin down on the countertop of a familiar stall, snatching the proffered kebab from the tanned hand of the man running the grill. He gave her a wink and a smile as he pocketed her payment, an amount would normally have been broken up into change. In Thalia’s mind it was well worth the slight tip to have her breakfast ready and waiting for her every morning, for she preferred her meal more heavily spiced and less thoroughly cooked than most and the time she saved on waiting for it to be done right went directly into extra sleep every day. She ate as she walked, wolfing the juicy, flavorful meat down with manners so poor she could almost hear her mother scolding her.
Inquirer Reid’s opinion of her was unlikely to improve if she were to arrive with a mouthful of food and she was quick to finish eating as she passed through the front door of their office, tossing the wooden skewer in the wastebasket. She used her pocket mirror to check her teeth for any stuck food, found she was in the clear, took a deep breath and pushed into the room set aside as a command center for their investigation. The room was about half full now, meaning while she wasn’t early she was most certainly not late. She stood near the back of the room, letting the remaining Wardens that were trickling in take the available seating just in time for their morning briefing to begin.
The last of her coworkers drifted in, bleary eyes taking in the available seating. Inquirer Hart looked none too thrilled to be here, and gossip amongst the Wardens made it clear he was riding out his position until he could retire. He sat at the periphery of the room in a broken down, slumped over wreck of a chair that had outlived its life as furniture. Hart’s head tipped back as soon as he was settled, and Thalia suspected the man had fallen asleep. She eyed his face, with its crow’s feet and salt-and-pepper hair and tried to confirm he was napping. Her little game came to an end as the telltale clicking of Inquirer Reid’s cane sounded down the hall. In a flash Inquirer Hart’s eyes flicked open and he sat upright, apparently ready to appear alert for Reid’s benefit. Reid threw open the door, his eyes finding Hart immediately, tightening with suspicion but moving on quickly as he failed to find anything remiss about his behavior.
Reid stood before the podium at the front of the room, pushing papers about on its flat surface. The briefing itself ran about the same as every other before it, a general status update given by Reid before he turned it over to his sub-commanders who gave their reports and fielded any questions before moving along. Thalia herself didn’t have any reporting to do, nor did she actually answer to any of the sub–commanders under Reid. No, the Inquirer made very sure she answered directly to him, and she found herself nowhere near anything even remotely important or dangerous.
Still, she paid close attention as each of them spoke, hoping to learn from their example and understand the investigation as deeply as she could. A small hope still burned in her chest Reid would give her more responsibilities, more duties beyond grunt work. That said, as far as she could tell little progress had been made. Excuses were made and promises given, but they were no closer to figuring out where the Faerie Dust was coming from. Reid looked less than pleased, and Thalia could sympathize. This was the royal capital, and certain authorities were almost certainly leaning on the Inquirer to achieve some sort of result.
The last Warden’s report dwindled off into a nervous silence, one lasted a heartbeat too long before Reid began to issue his orders. For the most part they boiled down to “stay the course” with the occasional change up in a patrol route or a dispatch to a point of interest. Thalia liked to think she waited patiently as Reid addressed each of them in turn, but her fingers twitched as she tapped her foot rhythmically against the floor. She ground her teeth as Inquirer Reid’s eyes slid over her without pause, eliciting several sympathetic glances from the other Wardens as they left the room. Reid turned to gather his papers as the room emptied, forcing Thalia to approach him, long strides carrying her to his podium. Reid glanced at her as she stopped, pausing for a moment to listen to her speak.
“What are my orders sir?” Thalia hissed through her teeth. His gaze returned to his reports
“Ah yes, I need you to run these over to the Archives,” he waved vaguely over a stack of papers set aside on the podium. “And this is a list of items I need you to pull while you’re there.”
Thalia bit her tongue and accepted the sheaf of paper from Reid with no word complaint. More busy work to keep her out of the way, but all the same someone had to do it. She simply turned on her heel and stalked out of the room with the papers clutched close to her chest, eyes burning. She felt his gaze on her back but she didn’t return it. Thalia fled out of the building and out of the street, pawing at her eyes. Pedestrians scattered before her upon seeing the expression on her face as she all but ran to the Archive, its stark edifice looming above as she approached.
Thalia had become a known element at the Archives, where the various archivists and clerks knew her by face at the very least, if not by name. The older clerks responsible for handling the removal of items from the had not warmed up to her at all, watching her with hawk-like eyes and pursed lips as they accepted the files she turned in. They tutted and clucked, turning to the arcane management system they used to sort and organize their dockets and files, parsing and pulling apart the esoteric rules designed to foil any outside intervention. At least was how Thala felt, as she still had not learned their system to any respectable degree. Most of her time was spent trekking up and down the various aisles in tow behind fresh young archivists who were still learning where everything was. Brushing dust off of old tomes and binders spanned the breadth of known writing mediums, from parchment and vellum to papyrus and paper, Thalia hunted down the items on Reid’s list. The only thing they didn’t have were stone tablets, though Thalia wouldn’t be surprised if some were rattling around in the basement.
How long it took her to emerge from the stacks she didn’t know, couldn’t know, not with the windowless walls and the unchanging magic lanterns illuminating the interior of the building. She wasn’t sure how helpful Anatomies of the Wylde: of Fairies and Hobs by Jonathan Holden would be, as the running assumption was Faerie Dust was not something fairies made at all, but it wasn’t hers to reason why. Instead she ferried the requested items to the front desk on a trolley issued out specifically for such endeavors, its age made apparent by the sticky limping nature of one of its wheels. She double checked her list as she went, making sure she had everything Reid wanted. She triple checked it as she piled them on the front desk, the clerks noting what she was taking and packaging them neatly. She had only failed to acquire a book that was on hand in the Archives once, but the sheer disappointment he had expressed then made her loathe to do it again.
By the time she checked out she was left with a stack of material spanned from her hips to her chin. It was unfortunate, then, that the trolleys were not to be taken from the Archive. A fact made abundantly clear by the clerks every time she came here. She was forced then to cradle them with her hands and take small, waddling steps. While the Archive wasn’t far from the Warden’s office she operated from, it was a good few blocks she was forced to take at a crawl. She didn’t want to see how any of the old biddies at the Archive would react if she damaged any of their materials, though she wanted to call to the office for help even less. Several Wardens passed by her going to and fro from the office, most of them looking harried and stressed though all of them made sure to clear her path. Some shot her teasing smiles as they saw her predicament and though none made to grab the stack of materials, one nice young man was kind enough to hold the door open for her as she made her way inside. Likely none of them wanted to risk the Archives ire if they were to damage their precious papers.
It was at least somewhat gratifying to see Inquirer Reid had the decency to look slightly apologetic upon seeing her struggling with the stack. He sped across the room as quickly as his hobbled steps would allow, the hand wielded his cane struggling to keep up. When he reached her he picked up each book, reading the title aloud before distributing amongst the Wardens in the room. The individuals he distributed them to were fresh recruits with little experience, much like Thalia herself. Unfortunately there were few rookies on this investigation, and when everyone had a book Thalia was still left with a little less than half the reading material she’d originally had. He gestured at the books and papers left in her hands in a way that meant he expected her to read them as soon as she could. Thalia let out a sigh and sat at her desk, coming face to face with Anatomies which sat atop the stack.
“Alright Jonathan Holden, let’s see what you’ve got for me.”
As she thought, fairies were not particularly dusty, and no part of them was addictive or hallucinogenic, at least not naturally. Setting aside Anatomies she moved onto the next title, which looked even less likely to be helpful. This continued for her entire shift, the monotony broken up only once when she found a particular essay written in Middish, which she had to send off to be translated. She’d made an appreciable dent in the stack by the time Inquirer called an end to the day. Her fellow Wardens collected and locked up their resources and reports, handing over what they could to the night team, who was more of a skeleton crew who existed to make sure if any incidents of note happened over night there was someone on hand to take care of it. Thalia’s position had no night shift equivalent, so she wedged a clean piece of silverware between the pages of the book she was on before packing up. The one nice part about her role is there was little urgency to it, and she could easily finish off her reading tomorrow. She made her goodbyes to the other Wardens and strode off into the dimming sunlight.
She retraced her path from this morning, dyed red in the sunset and far less crowded than it was morning. She stopped by the kebab cart and got her dinner, exchanging trite pleasantries with the vendor before meandering away. She ate as she walked, savoring the meat now she had nowhere important to be. She remained vigilant, eyeing alleys and shadows for criminals and pickpockets, though none made themselves apparent. Instead she saw children returning from their apprenticeships, meeting to play in the scant few hours of sunlight that remained between the end of their workday and curfew. She remembered how excited she was attending the school where they trained hopeful Wardens, meeting with her school friends in cafes and restaurants. She saw the children home, without them noticing, as they filed into the houses on her block. Their energy had put a smile on her face, one died as she opened her front door and entered her home.
Her home was a mess, furniture tossed about and flipped over, dishes scattered across the floor and nearly every other surface. Her walls were spattered with the remnants of her trash bin, her paintings and portraits askew or laying on the floor. Heart pounding Thalia drew her blackjack, a feature of her Warden’s kit she had never had cause to use until today. She strained her ears, trying to sense if whoever did this was still in her home. She moved through her hall, checking room by room, each one of them as devastated as the last.
She came to the last door at the end of the hall, her bedroom, and pushed it open with her club raised high. The bedroom was mercifully empty, though the damage was the worst here. Her covers were shredded and her pillows torn open, spilling their feathery guts all across the room. The chaos was so intense she almost missed her only clue. For, nestled there amidst the carnage atop her bed, was a neat little pile of white chrysanthemums.
