Three hours later, it was just about thirty minutes past noon when Fisher decided to take a short break. A look at his watch revealed it was just about time for Tobba to take his assigned patrol.
A walk will do me some good. I’ve been sitting for too long… To further illustrate Fisher's thought, he felt three small cracks in his legs as he stood up. At the tender age of thirty, Fisher hoped his body still had many more decades left in the tank. He walked out of his office, went downstairs, and came across Mire.
She told Fisher that Rita and Riley reported they were halfway complete with their investigation. “Sir! A full report should be on your desk in about five hours. Ah, incidentally, I was just about to head on patrol.”
“What a coincidence… Since I’m taking over for Tobba, would you mind a little company?”
“Not at all! I’m happy for the help!” With a salute and a cute smile, the bubbly Elf was all the more eager to work under her captain.
They walked outside the headquarters, and Fisher couldn’t help but notice just how full it was. With just the one desk and receptionist, he didn’t know how Roland had the endless energy needed to complete his job.
From a logistical point of view, it’s a nightmare… We need to adopt the Warden model and have at least four working together. On top of that, having all of the facilities bundled into one building causes a backup of services. Dividing our resources and creating smaller buildings for the less popular services while keeping the high volume areas together seems like the path forward… Or maybe we can hire more employees… If Canary keeps growing, then the bottleneck will only be a point of frustration…
For the next while, Fisher divided his attention into three. One thought about the problems at the headquarters, the other chatted with Mire, and the third kept an eye out for any ne’er-do-wells. When they reached the Warden office, Fisher noticed Mire had a look of displeasure plastered on her pretty face.
She turned and caught the captain's eye in the act, then fixed her expression. A moment later, an uncomfortable growl welled up in her heart. Those lovely lips parted to speak, then closed right back up. Mire went back and forth between speaking what was on the tip of her to give and clamping shut like an oyster. The uneasiness grew even more when Fisher didn’t press the subject at all. By then, he had ready turned his face to look where he was walking, and it had been that way for about ten minutes.
Finally, she just went for it. “Captain, have you ever wondered why I don’t like Warden?”
“It isn’t my business. Everyone has secrets or regrets they don’t want coming to light, and it isn’t my place to pry those open and bare them to the world.”
“Regrets, huh? Captain, do you have any?”
Fisher nodded, sending his brown hair dancing across his forehead. “I have more than a man would have in ten lifetimes.”
A quiet Mire pondered on her captain’s words. “A lifetime? I wonder how I’ll feel about it in a hundred years…? Two hundred? Right now, I’m just barely older than a Human great-grandmother.”
“Mire, do you mind if I ask something. I don’t mean for it to be insensitive, so please don’t take it that way.”
He’s being awfully considerate… “Sure. Ask away,” replied Mire. She enjoyed speaking with Fisher since she often thought he had a steel gate locked in front of his inner feelings. And she wasn’t the only one who felt that way. The two of them turned from a backstreet onto an especially busy road filled with wagons delivering iron and steel. The hustle and bustle of grunting Dwarves pounding away with thick hammers overpowered every other sound. The sounds of forges roaring alive sounded right at home for any Dwarf, but the skittish Mire couldn't hardly stand the heat.
“When it comes to friendships between an Elf and a Human…how do they cope with death? Humans live only 1/10th as long.”
“Eh? I never took you to be one that thought about those kinds of things! But to answer it… It’s hard. Really hard! When I was younger, my mother told me a story of her cousin and this Dwarf. They were so close that the other was the best man at their weddings, and they went even farther than that. Mother spoke fondly about helping her cousin build his house next to his friend.
“And for 94 years, they were the closest of companions. But when the Dwarf was on his deathbed, he was full of wrinkles and dark, blotchy spots. His eyes had gone, abandoning him a decade earlier… The dark black hair became wispy and silver, full of grease and as weak as a frayed string. And he was frail… So frail he couldn’t even stand up anymore. But my mother’s cousin? He looked the exact same as he did nearly a century ago. One day, the Dwarf was swinging his hammer with the passion and intensity of an inferno, and the next? He can’t even take a bath without help. Captain, there’s even a subsection of Elves that flat out refused to talk to anyone but their own kind, and that’s because they’re afraid of the lifespan difference.”
“What are your thoughts about that?” Fisher asked. A wagon just up ahead had broken down, so he and Mire offered to help fix it. During so, she answered him after thinking.
“Honestly? I don’t know. Some days, I feel one way. Other days? I feel like cutting myself off from other non-Elves. Captain, did you know that for every ten years an Elf is alive, it is equal to one year for a Human? So an Elf that’s 80 is really just 8, but there’s a slight exception to that rule. For the first 15-20 years, we grow just like a Human, and then it’s like time just stops for us until one day, we wake up with wrinkles. Ah…” Mire’s soft cheeks started to blush. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble on,” she said. The wagon owner raised a hand and thanked the two for helping them, then went on his way to do deliveries.
“Don’t be. It’s… It’s nice learning about the culture of other races… It’s something I need to do more often… If you don’t mind, Mire… If I have any other questions, would you be willing to answer them?”
Mire smiled and nodded. “Of course!”
“Thank you,” replied the captain. They turned another corner and continued their rather uninteresting patrol, which was acceptable to the both of them. Nothing happening meant things were calm and safe. The peacefulness gave Mire the time to think more about the captain and wonder what must’ve happened to cause him to open his mind. The Fisher of now and the one that trained her was so and far away different the two couldn’t be compared. The only thing that came to mind was Arnold’s death, and Mire knew just how impactful a person’s death could have on someone…
She was all too familiar with it.
Around fifteen minutes later, Mire spoke up. “Captain? I’m not really familiar with this area.”
“This is Buncombe Street. I hope you don’t mind, but I have something I need to check up on.”
“Not at all, sir. Lead the way, and I will follow.”
In the distance, Mire’s sharp eyes spotted a crouched girl with a tail as white as snow. It sharply waved in the air, then slithered across the warm grass like an albino snake.
Kait was enjoying a simple hobby of tending to the garden of colorful flowers.
Grow, grow, and do your best!
Don’t worry about the rest!
She sang a small song she had learned from her mother when she had a small garden. The small watering pail doused the parched soil with much-needed refreshment, and her ears picked up on a set of familiar footsteps. “Captain!” she shouted with glee as she stood up and turned around. Her heavily modified habit was the same as ever, and when she saw some was with Fisher, she rapidly pulled the veil and bandeau over her head.
“Good afternoon, Kait. Are you well?”
“Yes, sir. I am,” she said formally. Turning to the unknown Elf, Kait practiced the greeting Melk taught to her. “Good afternoon. My name is Kait, and I am a nun of Father Melk’s church. It is nice to meet you…” Then she broke apart the stiffness in her forced hello. “Yes! I nailed it! Mama’s gonna be proud of me! Ah, I’m sorry!” The spunky Singi turned around and practiced her greeting again. She left out the extra celebration.
Mire let loose a few adorable giggles and extended a hand, her pearl-colored waving in the lovely wind. After a pleasant introduction, Kait asked if Fisher was here for Myil. “I am. I told your mother I planned on swinging by to check on him. Where is he?”
“He’s inside with Father Melk, learning how to read and write his name.”
“How did he do last night?”
“Umm… I want to say fine, but Father Melk told me not to lie…”
Kait then explained that after Myil had woken from his extended nap, he rolled off the couch and scooted into the corner. His little arms hugged his knees, and he shouted for his Master. No matter how many times Kait or her mother said he had no owner, and that he was free, he just didn’t believe those two. His cries and whines continued to provide proof of his pained past, and when there was nothing else they could do, Kaitlyn pulled the boy to her chest and gave him a hug he so desperately needed.
“Mama cried… I’ve seen her cry before, but it was nothing like this… Myil kept saying that his Master said only he could touch him, but he doesn't have one anymore. He isn't a slave anymore. Mama hugged Myil until the fighting and arguing left his body. She told him he doesn’t have to worry about anything but his own happiness. But then Myil said his Master never told what happiness is. He said without a Master, he’s lost..." Kait started to weep, and Mire kneeled down and wiped the girl's wet eyes.
She went on to say that her heart was hurting then just as it did now, and when she hugged her mother and Myil, the pain didn’t go away.
“But then he had an accident… The front of his pants was dark and wet, and his clothes started to smell… But Mama said it was fine. We all had accidents at one time or another… Myil didn’t see it that way. He begged for forgiveness, but Mama said there was nothing to forgive,” Kait said. She sat down on the grass in front of her small garden, and Mire and Fisher joined her. She then told them that when they escorted a crying Myil to the tub, the poor boy didn’t know what that meant. Myil was never taught how to wash his body with soap, nor how to dry off with a towel.
Since the bathtub was big enough, Kait said that her mother thought it was best to get in the tub with Myil and wash his back. Kait joined in to try to make it seem calmer for Myil. She did speak about how it was fun because it was like bathing with her little brother. Kait was an only child, but that changed yesterday.
“After that, we dried off and gave him some of my old clothes until Mama had a chance to make him a set. All the while, Myil kept saying sorry, and Mama kept saying it was okay. During dinner, Myil just looked at the fork like it was the first time seeing one. He used his hands to eat the roast, but then I taught him how to use a fork! But then Myil had to say something about his Master never allowed him to sit at the table, and he was only allowed to eat off the floor.”
How awful… Poor Myil… Mire’s heart really felt for the poor boy, and she hoped and prayed his heart would soon learn how comfortable love and affection were.
“We did manage to convince him to eat with a fork at the table, but he only ate a few bites. We tried to get him to eat more, but Myil shook his head no and started to cry.” Kait said her mother didn’t press the issue, and Fisher remarked that was a good idea. He said that if someone was on the verge of starvation, the very worst thing someone could do was overload them with food.
“His appetite will come back in due time. Soon enough, it’ll be like that of a healthy Koena teenager. One question… Is he blessed?” Mire asked.
Kait shook her head. “It took him a while to bring his ID out, but he doesn’t have a God or Goddess. Oh, but his name is Myil. He wasn’t lying about that.”
When it came to sleeping, Kait explained that Myil whimpered and whined throughout the night. She said it was a nightmare, but it kept her and her mother up. To mend that, her mother said she needed to fix his loneliness. “Basically, the three of us had a sleepover in the same bed. Mama was in the middle, and we were to her side. This morning, he was sleeping peacefully. Mama whispered to me that Myil had probably never known the love of a mother… She said he doesn’t know what it feels like to be cared for…” Kait looked dejected, turning her heavy eyes to the ground.
“That could be the truth. No one knows Myil's past but him.” Hames might… Though if I meet him now, I’m liable to kill him…
“Captain? I hate the people who did this to Myil… Father Melk said we shouldn't have hate in our hearts, but I don’t want to be nice or care for the ones that hurt him.”
Before Fisher could respond, Mire tapped his arm, and he let her take this one. “Hate is a powerful emotion. Instead of focusing on the hate of those who hurt Myil, which will darken your heart, you should focus on supporting your new friend. At the same time, no one said you had to care for those who hurt him. You don’t have to forgive them, but the forefront of your mind should be on what is really important.”
Suppose I should follow my own advice, right?
“I…don’t really get it, but thank you, Miss Mire! Captain… If Myil was in danger, would you help him?”
Fisher triumphantly nodded. “You have my word. I have a duty to protect this city and its people, and that does include Myil.”
Kait’s face blossomed into a respectful smile—one of admiration and trust. She stood up, dusted off her clothes, grabbed her watering pail, and said she’d lead them to Father Melk and Myil.
The two guards followed her into a dimly lit church. The confessional booths in the back corner eyed Fisher as he entered. Every time a set of footsteps rang off the wooden floors, it felt like the confessionals were calling him back for another session.
“Father Melk, we have company!” announced Kait. She dropped off her watering pail to the side of the swinging door and skipped on through. Fisher and Mire walked in to see the big Kobold himself sitting on a tiny stool. He held an azure finger to a book while the sharply dressed Myil did his best to sound them out.
“Ahh, Fisher. How are you doing, my friend?” spoke Melk. His short-sleeved robed showed off a pair of thick arms as blue as the deepest ocean. Myil looked up and started to say something, but he shut his mouth and did his best to growl out a greeting.
It wasn’t much, but it was a start for a boy who had to begin from zero.
“So this is Myil? You look handsome dressed in your cassock,” she said, winking at the adorable lad. His purple scales suited the deep black of his buttoned-up religious garment.
“I…don’t know how to respond… I’m sorry…”
“Did you sleep well?” asked Fisher. He sat down, and Mire joined him.
“Yes, sirs… I did… I…don’t know what to say,” he said again.
Another tinge of pain punctured Mire’s heart.
“Myil, have you given any thought to Melk’s offer to work here?”
“Young Myil, you can answer the good captain truthfully,” encouraged Melk.
“I…don’t know what that means… What is… work? If it is something I need to do… I…will do it… But I’m sorry… Sirs, I don’t know to work…”
“Teaching you to read and write is the first step,” said Melk. From behind, Kait snatched up a kettle before it could scream its head off and frighten the terrorized Koena. Moments later, a freshly brewed cup of tea sat in front of everyone. The spunky Singi grabbed one of her own and sat down right next to her adoptive brother.
The forthcoming talk was calming and pleasant above all else. Kait was excited to speak to Mire and learn how it was working under Fisher. Mire, meanwhile, had questions as to how a Kobold came to find himself as a priest. For Myil, such a casual atmosphere of friendly people being sociable was what he needed the most. It would certainly take some time, for only that was the cure to his ailment.
After only an hour, Fisher said they were technically out on patrol, and it wouldn’t be good for the captain to skip out.
“I understand, friend. Mire, Fisher, be safe on your way back.”
“Bye-bye, Captain! Bye-bye, Miss Mire!”
“Go—Goo…Good…bye…” whispered Myil.
“You all take care,” said Fisher. He raised a hand towards the three that had come outside to see him and Mire off.
“Melk, Kait, Myil, it was nice meeting you all!” Mire said. She waved a friendly hand while walking backwards, then turned out and jogged up to the captain.
“I assume this goes without saying, but consider this an important order. Any and all information about Myil is not to be shared with anyone. Not with Roland. Not with Tim. Not with the men in your squad. It will not leave your mouth, understood?”
“Of course, sir! Even if you hadn’t ordered me, I never would have spoken about him. I can see why you kept his location a secret during the meeting. But... I feel sorry for the boy…” She turned her head down towards the dirt road, kicking a small rock she was coming upon.
“I do too. That’s why I brought him to Melk.”
“A Kobold priest is rare. Even rarer than rare. But captain, aren’t you worried… Err—never mind.”
“Spit it out, Mire. What’s on your mind?”
“Bishop Nicholas was adamant about finding his location. Why if he sent someone to follow you? Was…it safe to visit him?”
Fisher took a moment to breathe. “Did you notice the roundabout way we took to come here? I felt two sets of eyes on us, but one suddenly disappeared some time ago. This is just my instinct talking, but we don’t have anything to worry about…”
The governor and his sister are sharp and bright. I should assume they have someone trailing me. This person probably has orders to protect me. If Nicholas sent anyone to shadow me, this mysterious protector took care of it. It's what I would have done, and they're brighter than me.
“If that’s what you say, captain… I won’t question it.”
Before Fisher could respond, they turned the corner off of buncombe street and ran into an incident. A Human had just pushed over an elderly Singi and rushed off with her purse. “Mire, handle the thief.”
“Got it!” She shot off like a rocket, using her natural speed and agility to easily cover the distance. Even if he had a kilometer-long head start, the scarred-covered thief couldn’t outrun a determined Elf. Especially not one that had trained exclusively for distance and speed.
Meanwhile, Fisher rushed over to the elderly Singi and helped her up, applying a few healing skills to assure she was free of pain. He chose to ignore the idiotic fee and would face whatever punishment came his way.
“Captain!” shouted Mire. She walked towards him. One hand dragged the unconscious thief’s, and the other held up the brown purse.
All Fisher could do was smile and give his subordinate a verbal affirmation on a job well done.
