𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒊𝒏𝒏 { 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝒐𝒖𝒕 } || open

|| LAKOTA  

The woman’s expression grew sharp, her eyes becoming like jaded steel. Her mouth pulled into a thin line, and as irritation flashed through her gaze, she pulled the chair out from across him and sat down at the table. She leaned forward slightly, laying her palms flat on the wooden surface. Lakota simply watched her, glacier eyes seeing all – every movement she made, every shift in her expression, every emotion flickering in her eyes. Her posture was proud, although she did not come across as standoffish to him. No, there was something desperate to her movements, and he’d be willing to bet it had to do with this sorcerer she was looking for. Her next sentence confirmed it for him.

“We’re looking for our father.”

Bingo, Lakota thought to himself. He said nothing, and she continued on. “He’s done commissioned work all across the state. I suppose along the way he might have made a few enemies, but he’s a good man.” She paused briefly, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “Or, was a good man. Anyway, he left my sister and me three months ago with no explanation. All we know is that he passed through here before vanishing.” She leaned forward a bit, clearly impatient. She clearly believed that Lakota had valuable information; she’d be disappointed to learn he had very little to offer her. He did not get a chance to respond, before she continued on again. “So tell me what you want.” Her brown furrowed, settling low over her jade eyes. There was a challenge in her eyes, one that urged Lakota to respond. “I have nothing valuable to offer except my promise to help in whatever you are trying to accomplish.”

Well, that was interesting. He’d gotten various insane offers over the years from those desperate to hire him, but most were of a more carnal nature. He had a feeling that wasn’t where this young lady’s thoughts went, but it was a moot point; Lakota never accepted offers like that. He liked the think he was a man of morals, and that he had even a little bit of dignity.

He leaned back in his chair, studying the woman in front of him for a long moment. He steepled his hands, resting him against his chest as he considered his options. Normally, Lakota wouldn’t even consider the job; he wasn’t getting paid, and it was difficult to get very far in life with no income. He’d learned long ago when to walk away from a potential job. And yet… and yet. Something about this situation – or, more particularly, this female – intrigued him. Common sense told him to refuse this female, and return his attention to the job that he was getting paid forward, but it seemed that common sense wasn’t as convincing as the little voice in the back of his head that told him to accept this job. He’d become increasingly bored over the years, despite the steady flow of work and income. His line of work was to study people, but he’d found that the faces of those he looked at had become rather… uniform. Everyone had blended into the background, and Lakota had drifted from town to town, growing increasingly bored and bitter as he did so.

But for some reason, this female intrigued him. Humans tended to avoid him, as though some part of their brain sensed that he was potentially dangerous. Only their desperation to find answers caused them to seek him out. It might have been true in this female’s case, but he sensed something different with her. There was no fear in her gaze, no apprehension in her posture. He cocked his head to the side; the corner of his mouth curled up and he leaned forward.

He scraped on nail down the wooden table. “Very well, little one. I’ll help you out. I have quite the knack for finding lost people. Tell me everything you know.”

|| SABIEN  

Sabien always believed himself to be the cleverest person in the room. Most of this was innate arrogance which he was aware of but which he often underestimated. In reality it was his core flaw. But that’s neither here nor there.

“Only two copper?” he inquired tauntingly as Shifty threw in their wager. “I suppose street performers aren’t known for their heavy pockets.” At this point he was too focused on his own hand to have noticed his friend’s lipstick trick. If he was truly a born detective, he would have spotted the bits of Coral Blue #5 on the majority of his cards. Instead he reached into his tailored jacket to pull out his own purse. “Watch this!” he announced as he fished for coins in the velvet pouch. Then, with one theatrical flick of the wrist, he tossed two coins into the center of the table. For the instant of suspense between them flying into the air and landing, it was unclear of how valuable they might be. Silver? Gold? Had Sabien married elderly spinster and walked into a rich inheritance of rubies...again?

But as they clattered musically onto hardwood, it was clear that they were also copper. They spun to a stop next to their dull, humble twins in the center of the table.

“I’ll match your wager,” he stated anticlimactically.

The truth was that Sabien had fallen on tough times financially. He had a weakness for splurging on expensive coats and jewelry. 

Plus his hand sucked. The two aces were useless unless he could find more diamonds or hearts. Next time he would hide all seven cards in his sleeve. That was an idea he wished he had before.

Sabien was beginning to feel sorry for himself when his ears pricked. One of the red-headed sisters was standing up from her table and leading the mysterious bearded man somewhere. “It would be easier if I showed you,” she was saying. Sabien’s catlike eyes followed the pair up the stairs then flicked over to Shifty.

“Look,” he murmured under his breath. “We have movement,” he said like a detective staking out a scene. “The older one works quickly. She said she’s going to show that man something to do with the missing person. Do you think her sister will be weary about a mysterious man in their room? Perhaps a prophecy in her ear would make their relationship just a little more...interesting.”

Mischief flashed over his face as he leaned back in his chair to examine the younger of the two sisters. “Shall we tell her something like, Only the fairest of the two sisters will get what they most desire…And a prince. The last part is just for good measure.”

|| KASKAA

“Very well, little one. I’ll help you out. I have quite the knack for finding lost people. Tell me everything you know.”

There was no turning back now. She had drawn this stranger into the mix and now she had to deliver on her promise. He offered his help, but she suspected he would want something in return down the line. Well, she would give him her whole coin purse and the soles of her shoes if that was what he demanded.

Now the question was how much to tell him. She knew Callidora would wring her neck for telling a stranger everything. She glanced over to her sister, who was talking to a man across the room with her back turned. Surely Callidora was gaining information the hard way, by being polite and unobtrusive. Kaskaa loved her sister, but her gut told her that pleasantries would get them nowhere.

She could feel the stranger’s icy eyes on her. She returned her attention to him. “Alright. It would be easier if I showed you. Follow me.” With that, she slid out of her chair and stood, making for the staircase. She was ignorant to how suspicious this looked for a young woman to sit down at a man’s table, talk to him for four seconds, and then lead him back to her room. But Kaskaa’s mind was elsewhere. She thought only of the evidence hidden under the dresser. Evidence which she was keen to show this man, who she trusted based on nothing but intuition.

Having taken the first step up, she stopped abruptly and looked back at him. “Oh, my name is Kaskaa, by the way,” she said. “Kaskaa Hawthorne. Surname the same as my father’s.” It was a longshot, but perhaps the name would jog some buried memory in his mind. Oh yes, I met a sorcerer by that name a few days ago. He’s just outside! He said he was off buying pretty dresses for his daughters and got delayed on the road home! No such luck.

As they ascended the stairs, she once again scanned the crowd for her sister. She meant to send her a message with her eyes that said, Just trust me, I’m going to figure this out. But Callidora was deep in her conversation, and soon Kaskaa had reached the top of the stairs.

“I’ll admit our father is rarely at home. Mostly it’s just my sister and me maintaining the house and helping local clients while he travels. But he would always tell us before leaving for long periods of time. Or we would wake up to find a scribbled note pinned to the door,” she explained as they made their way to the room. “This time there was no warning at all. He seemed a bit preoccupied the night before. But when we woke up he was just...gone.”

When they reached the door, she fiddled with the key for a moment before slowly casting it open.

   “Ooh, two whole coppers,” Shifty teased. “Spicy.” They reviewed their cards, then slid two more coppers across the table. “In that case, I’ll raise you.” 

   At Sabien’s murmur, their eyes darted over to where the sorcerer’s daughter vanished with a stranger up the stairs. “Hmm. So very interesting,” Shifty mused. “What’s she gonna show him? Oh, I almost want to turn into a fly to perch on that wall.” Of course, they’d be a pretty massive and noticeable fly, not to mention a ridiculously ugly one, if they even tried to shift into such a creature. 

   Their gaze traveled over to the other sister, currently chatting with some young man and his cat, and a sneaky grin curled up the edges of their lips. “Ooh, how delicious. The promise of a prize. Time to don on something fun - it’s been a while since I’ve experimented with wrinkles.” Their long nails tapped rhythmically on the wooden table top. “What if you were to go investigate whatever’s going on upstairs while I go mess around with this lovely lass down here?” They looked down at their cards and sighed, though not sadly. Well, maybe a little sadly. They had been growing more and more certain that they were about to clean Sabien out. “We may have to put our card game on hold, what say you? Timing is of the essence, after all.”

   As they rose from the table, they seemed to have shrunk by at least three feet, a new crook in their back and a wobble in their step. As Shifty raised their hand to brace themself against the chair, said hand looked crinkled and mottled with age. “I’m going to go… powder my nose,” they said with a sly smile. “Shall we meet up again later tonight, my dear friend?"

   Arden’s eyebrows rose a little. Why would anyone wish to be looking for someone? Unless the reality was somehow far worse? He didn’t miss that she lightly dodged his remark on her sorrowful demeanor, the way she drew the hood further over her head. 

   “Well, I’m a young lad looking for a missing sorcerer, put it together and what do you got?” he said. “I’m his apprentice, obviously.” He paused, considering. “Well, I guess you could also deduce I’m his son, but.” He smiled, a little bit sad and a little bit bitter. “That’s not the case here.” A little voice whispered in the back of his head: then again, knowing what you know…

   His foot jiggled impatiently on the barstool’s footrest, causing his knee to bounce. Good grief, did he need to eat again already? Gobbling up energy was so much easier when he was a bird and all he needed to consume was nectar. Arden wished he had a mug or something in his hand he could distract his restless hands with. “Who are you, then?” Arden said, waving said jittery hand at a bartender. Cyril had wandered off to serve drinks to some corner of the common room. “You can call me Arden, if you want.”

   Once a cup of fresh, delicious orange juice was plonked in front of him, Arden picked it up and gestured with the mug. “I definitely have information, whether or not you want it though is definitely a toss up. I know all the openings in chess, including the lesser known lover’s and cat’s gambit, can tell you most if not all the current cultural movements of our generation, have a vague swatch of knowledge concerning magic: general spells, incantations, and stuff, though I’m more a potions guy myself. Always made a tiny bit more sense to me, don’t know why. Maybe it’s because of the exact measurements. It’s like math. Or baking. You always get the one right result, each time - if you do it right, that is.”

   The mug of orange juice proceeded to disappear down his gullet. “I also know an absurd amount of hummingbird facts,” Arden said. “Don’t ask why."

|| ℊℓоω , ᴘᴏʟʏᴏɴʏᴍᴏᴜꜱ ||

|| LAKOTA  

There was an amused glint in Lakota’s eye as he watched the female’s expression. Her face turned pensive, and her gaze glazed over a bit, as if she was deep in thought. Probably trying to determine if Lakota’s help would be worth the price. He waited patiently as she worked through her internal conflicts. Finally, she seemed to snap back to the real world, and she turned face him again, meeting his azure gaze rather boldly. “Alright,” she said. “It would be easier if I showed you. Follow me.” She stood from the chair she’d commandeered, and Lakota followed suit. He was a bit taller than her, but not by much – at least, not in the illusion he was wearing. In reality, Lakota fairly towered over most of the people in the room.

The young woman marched through the inn with a determined stride, seemingly ignorant of the world around her. She didn’t immediately turn to see if he was even following her until after she’d taken a few steps. She turned her head abruptly to look back at him. “Oh, my name is Kaskaa, by the way. Kaskaa Hawthorne. Same surname as my father’s.” He inclined his head in response.

“Lakota,” he replied.

They said nothing else as they moved through the inn, towards the stairs. Kaskaa looked back at the crowd, as if searching for someone. Probably one of her companions – perhaps the one who looked similar to her. If Lakota had to guess, he’d say they were related on some level. Cousins, perhaps, if not sisters. Still, he said nothing, simply following behind until they’d reached wherever she was leading him. She began to speak again.

“I’ll admit our father is rarely at home. Mostly it’s just my sister” – ah, so he’d been correct in his line of thinking – “and me maintaining the house and helping local clients while he travels. But he would always tell us before leaving for long periods of time. Or we would wake up to find a scribbled note pinned to the door. This time there was no warning at all. He seemed a bit preoccupied the night before. But when we woke up he was just… gone.”

Kaskaa fussed with a key before unlocking the door and pushing it open. Lakota inclined his head, gesturing for her to enter the room first. Once she did, he followed behind her, peering around the small room. His eyes narrowed as he did so, and for a moment he let himself partially shift. It wasn’t much; his eyes seemed to take on a strange glow, and his pupils seemed to change shape, for a brief moment as he scanned the room, searching for any sign of magic or traps.

“What was he doing most recently?” he abruptly asked, letting his illusion fall back firmly into place. “Anyone in particular that he was working with, or that he was in contact with? Any strangers meeting with him? Any odd behaviors that were out of the ordinary? Even small behaviors that seemed weird could be a clue.”