“Here we are, sire. ‘Tis as far as I can take you.” A carriage trundled towards the entrance to a sleek city made of a hybrid of marble and stone. Having already passed the imposing city gates, the single-horse-drawn carriage trundled to a halt near a set of stables, where a short, young canine stepped forwards to take the reign of the horse from the carriage drivers. The two began their idle conversation as the door to the carriage creaked open, and out stepped the passenger. The bipedal reptile cast his quiet, calculating gaze over the expanse of the city beyond. He was in Aelibuch, the capital of Sinaca, known as the kingdom of the canines. Pedestrians and rickety horse-drawn carts alike passed him and headed down a wide road, designed as the main trade route in and out of the bustling city. He smoothed a hand over his orange and black scales, his sharp, yellow eyes surveying the passers-by. Most of them ignored him. Others stared, both intrigued and scared at the same time. “Can you direct me to the local military barracks?” The reptile turned and spoke in a deep voice that dripped with authority, his rugged stance lax, but his muscles tense. The canine who had driven his carriage turned and clamped his mouth shut, eyes bulging in their sockets at the sight of the men, intimidated by him. The reptile caught the sight of the canines tail tucking between his legs. “J-Just a ways down there, sire.” He pointed deeper into the city, and whilst it wasn’t the most specific of information, it was enough to guide him. With a sigh, the reptile nodded wordlessly in thanks and turned, reaching into the carriage to pull out a heavy brown satchel. He slung it over his shoulder and strode off, the stable-hands staring as they went. Those he passed were not looking at him for his species-- though that was certainly an uncommon sight to behold-- but rather, his attire. The reptile was clad in armour, as if ready for combat at any moment in time. Knives hung from a sash around his front, covered by a thick chunk of plate mail that protected the majority of his chest and stopped near the stomach. Beneath that sat a hard, sturdy leather that encapsulated the entirety of his upper body, from his muscular chest down to his toned arms, ending at his wrists. His bottom half bore a similar getup of leather pants, with the appropriate curves of metal around his knees and the appropriate gaps to make room for his thick tail. A sword sat at his side and the satchel clunked as he walked, indicating it was likely full of its own tools and equipment. The wide path that lead through the city expanded slowly into a large network of paths that all followed around a centre circle in the middle of the city. A fountain sat in the middle and the reptile looked up, recognising the likeness of Svant Alberto IV, the current King of Sinaca, whose castle resided in the city that the reptile was currently in: Aelibuch. He was depicted holding a sword, looking out into the grand expanse beyond, like a King rallying his troops. The reptile scoffed. Turning, he could see his destination in sight. Sat wedged between two paths lay a wooden building. It would have been relatively inconspicuous, if not for the large depiction of a sword and shield hanging above the large pair of double doors. The Sinaca common people weren’t particularly decorative, but they were certainly practical, and marking notable buildings was important for them. Crossing the crowd of busy city folk, the reptile strode into the barracks, heaving the doors open as he went. The murmur of conversation that seeped through the building drew to a sudden halt when the reptile stepped inside, and all heads turned to face him. He could feel the eyes the guard on him, but he didn’t care. Instead, his attention was drawn to a door at the far end, marked as the captains quarters. No-one dared to stop him as the reptile silently strode across the room, the soles of his hard leather boots clomping against the floor. He didn’t even knock: he turned the handle and stepped into the room unannounced. The reptile opened the door to reveal the captain of the guard, mid-swig from his wooden tankard. The man, a slightly overweight and sullen-eyed canine, turned to blearily stare at the reptile from across the rim of his cup. He had the eyes of a man who had seen better days than this one, but still solemnly carried out his duty. The captain swayed on his feet a little bit at the sight of the man, quite clearly a little intoxicated, and the reptiles gaze flicked from him to the cup in the canines gloved hand, then back again. Neither of them said a word for a moment, and they sat there in strained silence, their eyes locked. Finally, the reptile stepped forwards, his boots menacingly thudding against the ground as he closed the distance between them, his path blocked only by the wide mahogany desk that separated them. The captain looked worried for a moment that the reptile might do something, but he was surprised when the lizard simply held out a hand. “Inigo Taborette,” The reptile spoke in a deep, commanding voice that rippled like silk. “I’m here on behalf of the Omnimallage.” Many know the Omnimallage not by their name, but by their actions. They are the politically neutral ‘shadow’ government that preside over all of the five kingdoms, but they specialise in one thing in particular: magic. There were still people in all the five kingdoms that didn’t believe in magic, surprisingly, but those that flooded the bustling cities and lived in the neighbouring villages were used to the dazzle and wonder of magicians and magical items. However, that luxury came at a cost: the constant surveillance and necessity of the Omnimallage looming over them, always watching, always recording their movements. Whenever there was an issue with magic, someone from the Omnimallage was sent, whether they liked it or not. The captain spluttered through his ale and slammed the tankard down in a panic, the substance sloshing over his already stained table. His eyes bulged for a moment in his sockets before he straightened himself up, attempting to look sober. Inigo got the impression he didn’t realise he was in the presence of a substantial authority until the reptile mentioned his rank, though Inigo was certainly not superior. A captain drinking on the job certainly wasn’t something he needed to see, but the reptiles indifferent expression to the mans drinking put the man at ease, albeit it only a little. “I-I see. So, you’re the detector, then?” The captain asked, sounding almost unsure if he was even correct. The reptile slowly nodded and the captain tensed up just a little more than before. Detectors were a lesser known, but still important branch of the Omnimallage, a division exclusively for solving murders of magical intent. The Omnimallage didn’t bother with murders of the typical mundane variety-- after all, that was what the guards posted in the cities were for-- but anything that involved magic or a magical artefact always involved a detector of some description. This time around, it was Inigo, one of the arguably ‘most famous’ of all the detectors across the five kingdoms. He’d solved many a murder, and he was considered an elite of his branch. “Right,” The captain cleared his throat, running a grubby, gloved hand through his shaggy grey fur. “So, you’re here for...?” “...The murder of Kristoffer Lund.” The reptile slowly spelt out, and the captain nodded along. Inigo got the distinct impression the man was too drunk to even remember what he was hear for. That, in a way, surprised him; Kristoffer Lund was a well known individual in Aelibuch and Sinaca alike, and the murder was likely at the forefront of most peoples minds. “Yes...yes, I see, I see.” The captain murmured and turned. Out the corner of his eye, Inigo watched him meander around the room and rummage through the papers placed on various surfaces littering the office. He eventually found what he was looking for and turned around again, straightening his back. “Take this to Nils out in the barracks. He’s young, sprightly, with red fur. He’ll take you to the scene of the murder.” The captain assured him, the canine’s hand shaking as he held out the paper. Inigo eyed him before wordlessly taking the slip of paper between his two fingers. He took one final moment to flick his gaze up to meet the canine’s drunken swagger, before turning to the door and stepped through, closing it behind him. The captain let out an audible sigh as the reptile left. His eyes scanned the crowd for a moment, when he realised that he had no idea who he was looking for. Luckily for him, it seemed that the colour red was strikingly rare amongst the guard. Out of the crowd of grey and black furred wolves, there was only one red-furred man sitting amongst them. He crossed the room, ignoring the stares of the dressed guardsman around him. “Nils, is it?” Inigo spoke the canine’s name very simply and plainly, and the young man jumped in his seat, his mouth opening to release a sharp yelp of surprise. The canine raised his head, and Inigo took a moment to take in his form. Clad in the typical attire of a guardsman, with simple chain mail and themed red coloured garbs, the auburn-furred canine looked to be no older than 19, with an attentive nose and a pair of sensitive, twitching ears. He turned his head towards the reptile for a moment before snapping his head straight, eyes wide. “O-Oh!” The canine’s eyes snapped down to the insignia on the reptile’s chest. Painted across the chest plate of Inigo’s armour in a crude white colour sat two lines, with a single line crossing them from the bottom right corner to the upper left, encapsulated in a large white circle. It was the insignia of the Omnimallage, the sigil they were known by and what many recognised. “Mr. Dectector, sir.” Nils nodded in acknowledgement and looked down to the paper. He held out a gloved hand expectantly and the reptile placed the parchment in Nils’ grip. One quick scan of the paper seemed to give Nils all he needed to know, for his lips curled into a friendly smile, tail wagging leisurely behind him. “Shall we, sire?” The young adult got to his feet without complaint, despite the peculiar stares from the rest of the guard. Perhaps they were just amused and curious at the sight of the detector, or maybe it was the auburn canine’s striking features that caught their attention. Inigo swept his gaze across the group of men. When his eyes met theirs, they averted their gaze. He deduced it was the latter. As they stepped out into the busy streets of Aelibuch, the auburn furred canine gave him a nudge in the right direction, leaving the orange and black scaled reptile to follow him. They moved their way past various citizens, all who moved and stepped aside to let them past without complaint. Inigo studied their faces, caught their curious looks. They didn’t move out of fear, but out of respect. It wasn’t just for him, either, but for the guard themselves. Their journey took them from the more rural parts of the city into the more luxurious residential quarter, which seemed slightly higher up, height wise. The cobblestone beneath their boots merged into sleek stone as they ascended on a gentle incline. The wooden houses and occasional rickety shacks were replaced by marble arched villas that were at least 2 stories high, sometimes even more. The stark difference in the value of the neighbourhood from one to the other made Inigo curious; canines traditions often but family before work and leisure, but even they couldn’t escape the suffocating clutch of capitalism that darkened their hearts. “We’re here.” Nils turned and paused outside a relatively fancy villa, though Inigo silently remarked that it was more like a mansion than anything else. The floors themselves spanned several metres and it was 3 stories high. A balcony sat above their heads, and whoever stood on top could see the majority of the city, given the height at which the expensive villas sat above the more common houses down below. “You know, I’m surprised that the Omnimallage sent a detector so quickly,” Nils began as he stepped up to the door. “They normally take a little longer.” “This is a delicate matter.” Inigo was quietly surprised that Nils was familiar with the Omnimallage, but then again, knowing a name didn’t necessarily mean he knew them that well at all. The door that lead into Lund household was wide open, and a guard stood by the side. The murder of Kristoffer Lund had only happened a couple of days ago. The Omnimallage had dispatched Inigo rather quickly when they learnt of his demise, and the circumstances surrounding it. The interior of the house was best described as ‘sterile’. Whilst the mahogany wood and occasional splashes of colour added some degree of ‘life’ to the design of the interior, the walls were bland, and nothing was out of place. Inigo scanned his gaze across the hallway, counting the number of doors on the bottom floor. He marked 4, with a turn in the hallway midway down that likely lead to a number of other rooms. At the far end sat an ornate staircase that lead to the upper floor. Nils wasted no time in making his way down the hall, and Inigo guessed the murder likely happened on the top floor. They ascended both steps and walked with an impending dread towards the door at the far end of the room. Inigo saw Nils tense as he placed a gloved hand on the handle of the door. He twisted it down and shot Inigo a cautious glance, before pushing the door open. The room beyond was presumably Lund’s study. Its once bland white painted walls were splattered with streaks of blood, the stains arcing from the floor to the ceiling in long, red lines. They weren’t just on the walls, however: the blood covered almost every bit of furniture. “Hard to believe that there’s so much of it, isn’t there? And that all came from...well...” Nils heaved a deep breath and stepped across the room. He placed his boots across the streaks of blood on the floor without an issue, and Inigo assumed it was dry by now. He followed him across the spacious study and rounded the back of the desk at the far end of the room. There, lying with closed eyes, was the body of Kristoffer Lund. Inigo had never met him in person, but he’d seen him at a number of events when he travelled from kingdom to kingdom for various diplomatic appointments. As a nobleman and a businessman, Lund regularly embarked on ventures to other kingdoms to establish new imports and exports. Covering his body and fur was a thin membrane layer, a mask of magic over his corpse. Inigo knew it well: on many occasions he’d seen such a spell, a technique derived from expert undertakers. The blanket of magic helped to preserve the body in suspended animation for a time, until it can be buried. “Why haven’t you moved his body?” Inigo demanded sharply and Nils briefly withered next to him, ears folding down in a subservient manner. “We didn’t want to tamper the crime scene, sire...” Nils began with a hint of embarrassment. “That and, well, we haven’t the space in the mortuary. Soon, I hear.” “The logic is sound,” Inigo replied quietly, crouching down to look at the body. “But without chill, the body will rot. Leaving it here...it must be hard on the family, too.” “They’re at their second home, or so I’m told, until the study is cleaned up.” Nils explained, and the reptile slowly nodded, his nose wrinkling at the thought. Inigo slowly examined the body of Kristoffer Lund with a certain degree of pity. From what the reptile could remember of the case, the body had been found 2 days prior to arrival by his wife, in the late afternoon. His body was marred and cut apart with long, wide gashes that exposed the flesh beneath, from his chest and stomach to his face. Lund was an old man, but his fur still kept its original luster, the mixtures of black and brown framing his sculpted face. The first thing that Inigo was thought of was how horrid and cruel the murder was. The trail of blood that ran down his face, chest and legs indicated he was standing at the time of the murder. This simple deduction had likely already been made by the guard who’d already seen the body. Inigo reached out his hands, tracing his fingers against the outline of the largest wound across the canine’s chest. The gash had cut across his silken shirt and finely weaved jacket, and dug right into flesh. The reptile’s hands, covered in fingerless gloves, placed themselves either side of the man’s chest. He slightly spread the wound apart and squinted down at the flesh beneath. “What do you have so far?” Inigo questioned absently, referring to details about the murder. “We’ve already deduced he was killed around early afternoon, 2 days ago,” Nils began. “We’ve already had the men search the premises. Granted, we were primarily looking for a sword, or perhaps a dagger...” “I see. Unfortunately, I think this is magical in origin.” Inigo replied, reaching out his hand. “What are you-- Hey!” Nils let out a cry of surprise when Inigo stuffed his finger into the wound, penetrating the magical membrane without severing it and wriggling his digit around. His finger pushed all the way to the knuckle and he slid it back, his digit coated in splotches of blood. He wiped it on his leather pants without complaint. “Finger deep cut. Long, wide gashes...” Inigo began, straightening himself up. “Arcing streaks of blood...the untrained eye would guess a sword, or an axe, but they are not the cause. That is why I was brought in.” “Because it’s...magic?” Nils asked with a tilt of his head, and Inigo glanced at the canine out of the corner of his eyes. “Indeed,” Inigo murmured. “Not just simple magic, though. With these marks, I would assume a wand...my best guess would be something used for precision cutting, but I’ll need to be sure.” “And...how will you do that? Do you have a tool, or something?” Nils asked, stepping closer. The way his eyes sparkled in wonder gave Inigo the impression that Nils was both enamoured and jealous of magic. Perhaps he sought the power himself, but it wasn’t a case of wanting, but of being born into the art. “In a manner of speaking, yes.” Inigo stepped towards the centre of the room and paused, closing his eyes. He willed his magic to the surface. Magic wasn’t about learning spells from scrolls or chanting certain mantra. Magic was an inherent force in the body, an external will to be moulded and sculpted into the appropriate shape. To learn special magical techniques, like the ones that Inigo possessed, one simply needed to know exactly how to mould their will into what they wanted. The reptile pushed his will around his body until it evenly covered every surface, touched every edge of his fingers and toes. He felt it in the tip of his tail, in the end of his snout and on the surface of his tongue. Then, he flexed it outwards like a bubble, the tingling sensation of his magic stretching outwards and covering the room. It was subtle, and invisible to the naked eye, but he could sense it like it were a part of his own body. On the edge of his senses, he felt it. The prickle and sense of magic against his shield. This was his most honed technique, known simply as ‘detect magic’. Whenever foreign magic touched against his own, there was always the slight feeling of them colliding, like physical entities. It was then, in that moment, that he knew there was magic at work. There was magic surrounding the murder. “You would be correct in your assumption.” Inigo glanced to the canine and Nils tilted his head with a quizzical expression. Inigo twisted his head and opened his mouth. He snaked out a long, fleshy tongue, slathering it around in the air for just a moment, a couple of seconds or so, before snapping it back. Tasting the air and honing his senses helped to determine what the magic was. “Magic, you see,” Inigo began. Has a signature, an identifier. People who are experts can tell who it is by the signature alone, but that requires many years of studying...but I can at least tell what type of magic it is.” “Oh, that’s quite handy.” The canine beamed and Inigo glanced over at him with an unreadable expression. “...I suppose,” he cleared his throat and twisted his head again, briefly closing his eyes. “This magic isn’t from a man. It’s from a tool. I’d guess a wand.” Those who didn’t know magic were all too familiar with the use of magical tools, and their most common form came in a wand. Crafted from wood into a fine dowel or branch and imbued with magic, these tools often could do no more than one specific purpose, but were very efficient in doing so. They only needed maintenance once a year to keep the magic inside of them running. Those who did specialist work often turned to wands when they lacked magic at their fingertips. “Wow,” Nils apparently seemed rather impressed. “So, we’re looking for a wand as the murder weapon, then.” “Precisely,” Inigo murmured as he scanned around the room. “But I can guess from your tone that you haven’t found it in this room. If I had to guess, the murderer still owns it. Wands aren’t cheap.” “That’s true...I’ve seen them go for thousands of coins.” Nils remarked. All 5 kingdoms operated on the simple currency of coins. Each was engraved with a number, often in multiples of 10, and that was how people bartered for their goods and made their currency. A coin such as 1000 was rare and seen only in the upper class. “It might not be much for a nobleman, but they are noticeably shrewd. They wouldn’t get rid of something so valuable, even if they had used it for nefarious deeds.” He turned again towards the canine and noticed Nils tense and subtly shrink away from his gaze. Inigo had gotten that a lot over the course of his life: his black scales and sharp eyes were a little intimidating for most people. Before Inigo could press for more details, they heard the clunk of boots downstairs, and they turned to see a guardsman ascending the steps, looking considerably out of breath. “The mortuary is here to collect the body.” He spoke through gasps of air and Inigo glanced towards Nils next to him. “Please, send them through. I’m sure the detector can examine the corpse at the mortuary at another date.” His clipped manner and sudden straight back caught Inigo’s attention. The reptile watched as the canine whistled down the stairs, and they heard the thudding of boots making their way up with a rudimentary cloth tied two large poles of wood-- commonly used to ferry the sick or dead-- in their hands. These two men weren’t clad in the same armour as the guardsman, but instead wore loose, but professional clothes. Nils gestured, and Inigo followed the canine out to leave the mortuary staff to collect the body and take it where it needed to be. They stepped out again into the remarkably quieter streets, and Inigo turned to his left. The wide street that ran along some of the most luxurious houses in town lead up a winding path towards a near-glittering castle that loomed over the entire city. “Nils,” Inigo began rather suddenly as they turned to walk, and the canine immediately straightened at the mention of his name. “You take a professional tone with your fellow man, but not with me.” He didn’t ask a question, nor did he press. Instead, he simply stated it as a fact, as if he expected the canine to answer. Nils glanced sheepishly at him out the corner of his eye. “Well...” He began. “You’re not exactly all that...professional.” Inigo’s sudden withering gaze made Nils gulp, and he continued. “W-What I mean is, you’re not ‘cut from the same cloth’ as the rest of us, sire. Whilst you are superior, and you take your job very seriously, I just...don’t feel the need to be so formal.” He added with a nervous fidget. “...I see,” Inigo didn’t question it, even if it was odd. “Tell me about the victim. What do you know?” “Of course, sire,” Nils cleared his throat, as if he’d practice relaying the information in advance. “Kristoffer Lund is the head of the Lund family, who own the import and export business that runs throughout the city. Not only do they manage a sizeable percentage of the imports into Aelibuch, but they also manage a great deal of exports to the neighbouring kingdoms.” “And what else?” Inigo continued, and Nils nodded in acknowledgement. “He has an ear to the king as well, sire. Some say he’s a friend of the king...others remark he’s like a puppy showing his belly.” Nils added at the end with a sheepish smile. “Conjecture...but intriguing. Does he have a lot of enemies?” The reptile glanced over to the Nils, who ran a gloved hand through his auburn fur, tail idly wagging. “Some, sire. But then, so do a lot of nobleman, from what I’ve seen.” Nils suggested quietly. Inigo might have normally asked any aides to refrain from offering their opinion, but in this matter it was necessary. Inigo didn’t like to admit it, but Sinaca wasn’t known for magical deaths, so his lack of experience in the kingdom meant he had little knowledge of the area. These little insights from a resident of the city would help to form a bigger picture. “The killing was grotesque, violent. Whoever wanted him dead hated him.” Inigo murmured quietly, and Nils watched him from the side, his head tilted in intrigue. “Regardless, I will need to arrange accommodation. I can’t speak to the family tonight; they are likely still troubled by Lund’s death. They will have to wait until tomorrow.” “Oh! The captain arranged with the Omnimallage to sort out where you’d be staying.” Nils explained. Inigo wasn’t a stranger to these dealings: where he had to do business in a busy city, the Omnimallage typically sent letters in advance to arrange his lodgings, and they were typically deducted from his pay. “I see. An inn, I assume?” Inigo asked as the two of them strode from the fancy villas to the more common housing. They made their way back towards the fountain and Nils shot the reptile and apologetic smile, his tail wagging behind him. “I’m afraid so. That one there.” He pointed towards one of the inns that sat along one of the many paths that splintered from the middle of the fountain. Inigo nodded solemnly and the two of them stood there awkwardly for a moment. Inigo was never a fan of-- nor particularly good at-- idle conversation. “Oh! Something else,” Nils continued. “I forgot to tell you, but I’ll be accompanying you throughout the investigation. When you need some help or need something from the guardsman, then tell me.” “Very well. If you are to aid me, I require something of you, and the guardsman who searched the house,” Inigo turned to him with an expectantly. “They will have to search the house again for a wand. At their earliest convenience, hopefully.” “Yes sire.” Nils straightened up and puffed out his chest. Inigo looked down at him silently. He should have expected Nils to accompany him, but it was still rather irritating. The Omnimallage were a powerful, intimidating force, so it was no surprise that the common folk who couldn’t do magic were terrified of that. That fear lead to an unnatural paranoia around those who came from the Omnimallage itself, which sadly included Inigo. It was no wonder they were going to send someone to spy on him during the duration of his visit. When he had first started, Inigo would have been offended, maybe even melancholy. Now, it only made him bitter. “I should be going.” Inigo said rather abruptly, and he stepped past Nils, heading towards the inn as described. The canine watched him go with an awkward expression, before taking a step forwards. “S-See you tomorrow!” He called after him, but Inigo didn’t look back. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to him, but that there wasn’t anything more to say. Striding into the inn, Inigo made his way up to the counter and the keeper anxiously gave him the key, giving him directions to his room. The reptile quietly thanked him and made his way up and into the designated chamber, shutting and locking the door behind him. He couldn’t be too careful. The room was small and cramped, but Inigo didn’t need a lot. He slung the satchel and sash over his shoulder and sat with the chair near the window. Placing the bag on the bed, he pulled out a wrapped piece of cloth and unfurled it to reveal a variety of whetstones hidden inside. He took the first and pulled the blade from his hip. He slowly ran the whetstone across the blade and watched the bustling city outside as the sun began to set, his brow furrowed. He watched the guardsman walk by, watched the way the noblemans avoided the common folk like the plague. The investigation would be a difficult one. When he had told Nils it was a delicate matter, he was saying it rather lightly. In fact, he had been told it was much more important. When he had been called in by his superior officer, the situation had been laid out. Inigo’s superior was one of the main councilman who ran the Omnimallage, the leader of the detectors and their respective magic guard, and he ran a notably tight ship. He had worded it to Inigo rather simply: it was imperative the murderer was found. He hadn’t divulged why it was so important, but Inigo had been raised to follow orders. He would do whatever it took. That didn’t mean he didn’t think about it, however. It was what Nils has said about Lund earlier that intrigued him. Someone who had an ‘ear to the king’ likely meant he had a number of secrets. Inigo hazarded a guess that one of those secrets was relaying the kingdom’s secret dealings back to the Omnimallage, but he didn’t detect any magic in the nobleman’s house, but from the wand. It was worth investigating. Inigo sighed as he set his sharpened blade down, rolling his whetstones back up. He rested on the chair and watched the passers-by outside with a calm and expressionless face. It wasn’t until later that he felt a little more tired, and he moved his things from the bed, moving to roll in on his side. He placed his head against the hard hay pillow and sighed through his nose, staring over at the wooden wall on the far side. His nose picked up the smell of must and dirt. He let sleep take him. Tomorrow was going to be a interesting.