The woman winced as she sat straighter, her torn sleeve slipping off her shoulder to reveal the edge of a bruised collarbone. She tugged it back into place with a quick flick of her fingers, then blinked up at the group with glassy determination.
"Thanks," she said, voice still hoarse. "I had it under control, obviously, but… I guess backup isn't the worst thing."
"Obviously?" Willow murmured with a crooked smile, annoyance starting to form, but quickly dissipating given the situation.
The woman's face flushed immediately. "I–okay, not like that, I'm just saying—look, I think I could take them. Doesn't mean I'm ungrateful."
Joren raised an eyebrow, a strange expression overtaking his face, but he decided to say nothing.
The woman cleared her throat and stood, wobbling only slightly. The cracked lens of her glasses caught the light from a nearby window as she straightened her attire, which looked like that of a receptionist, with two sharp tugs. She patted the lapel stuck to her collar down as if trying to regain some professional dignity, then pulled a small silver badge from the inner pocket.
"Nyra Braye," she said, as if reciting something she'd practiced a dozen times. "Head of the Department of Continuity and Civic Integrity. And you are…?"
"Just travelers," Joren replied, eyes nearly popping out of his skull at the realization of her warning from earlier. "My name is Joren."
Nyra gave a short nod, though her brows quirked at the name. "Joren," she repeated, as if mentally filing it away. "Right. Got it."
Willow, ever protective, took a half-step forward. "You said you're the head of Continuity?"
Nyra's face lit up with a quick, reflexive grin. It was filled half with pride, the other half embarrassment. "Well, yeah. Sort of... I run the department and partake in meetings with all the other departments and with the King. The altercation you just happened upon was because of my close knowledge of the heads and King."
Willow's eyes narrowed slightly. "So that would mean you would be next for the throne position? They were after information. Real stuff. Not just rumors."
Nyra nodded, her grin fading. "Files on the King, or, more precisely, his Portrait. They weren't just robbers. That was a targeted move, I think."
She scratched the back of her neck, then winced when her fingers brushed a bruise. "I tried to take a quiet route through the outer district and see how the Trade Department was doing. Didn't expect a squad of masked creeps to be waiting."
Gus hummed thoughtfully. "Sounds like the kind of thing you shouldn't be wandering into alone, Miss Important."
Nyra groaned. "Believe me, I know. I already got chewed out last week for going to the Agriculture wing without a handler. But if I have to wait for six different approvals just to see how the city's crops are holding up, I'll lose my mind."
She adjusted her glasses and gave a dramatic sigh. "I'm not some princess, alright? I just like knowing what's actually happening, not what the reports say is happening. That's why I took on the challenge of leading this department."
Bartholomew gave a sage nod. "A dangerous mindset. Next thing you know, you'll be growing radishes without clearance."
Nyra shot him a confused glance. She blinked a few times, brow furrowing as she tried to make sense of Bartholomew's comment. "Radishes without—what? What does that even mean?"
Willow gave a tired sigh. "Don't try to figure him out, it only gets worse."
Nyra brushed a bit of dust from her coat and huffed. "Ugh, this was supposed to be a quiet evening. I was just going to check on some trade route compliance logs, maybe grab a skewered lamb from one of those carts with the loud bells, but nooo..."
She crossed her arms and muttered, "They didn't even give me time to finish my dinner. I still had rice on my lap."
Willow's expression softened, but she didn't let go of her cautious tone. "You said they were after files on the King's Portrait. Is that… common knowledge? That the King even has one?"
Nyra blinked, then looked around in paranoia. "Ssshhh. Don't say it like that out loud. We don't want to end up on some shadow list together. Only a few of the upper-management and department heads know that, the kings never have made it very public since it's not exactly something you want to share."
"Why not?" Gus asked.
"Well, usually an Auspex wants to keep it secret in case they need to use it, that way they have the upper hand. Besides, it's not like it's exactly a fighting centric ability."
Willow crossed her arms. "So someone's trying to expose that information to the public or use it against him?"
Nyra gave a short nod, her earlier dramatics giving way to something sharper. "Yeah. I think they knew exactly what they were looking for, and I was their ticket to getting it. I just don't know how they found me all the way out here."
"That's the part that bugs me," Nyra muttered, her voice low now. "Continuity doesn't broadcast our schedules. And I made sure no one followed when I left the department quarters since I kept it a secret."
Bartholomew scratched his beard with a cheese-stained finger, then stuck it in his mouth. "Maybe they're already inside. Happened once with a dairy board election back in '63. Goat votes got rerouted. Very suspicious."
Nyra blinked slowly at him. "...Okay. Some of that made a little sense, I guess." She had a somewhat sour face when she tried to make sense of what he was talking about, but quickly brushed it off.
Willow ignored the tangent. "So they were after sensitive info. What happens if they get it?"
Nyra thought about it. "I have a theory that it could be someone or someones from other departments trying to stage a coup."
Willow's eyes narrowed. "That's a pretty serious accusation."
Nyra held up a hand. "I'm not saying it's confirmed, it's just a gut feeling. The only ones who would even know what kind of files I have would be internal. And let's be honest, some departments would love to have more pull than they do now."
Bartholomew squinted. "Sounds like Trade. Never trust a man who wears polished boots and sells limes."
Gus frowned, ignoring Bart as well. "So you think another department is trying to knock the King off his seat? Why would they kill you then?"
Nyra rubbed at her temple, suddenly looking very tired of it all. "Because even if they can't get the files, removing me causes chaos. Continuity's whole purpose is to monitor public trust, keep records aligned, flag civil threats before they start. If I vanish, there's no clean succession for at least a few months. Maybe you wouldn't know because you are travelers, but the head of Continuity often succeeds the throne due to the impartial nature of our department."
Willow glanced sideways at Joren, then back to Nyra. "So if someone wanted to shake things up at the top, you'd be the first piece to knock off the board."
Nyra gave a humorless chuckle. "Exactly. And they almost managed it, too. If you hadn't shown up—" She stopped herself, eyes narrowing in sudden thought. "Actually... why were you in that alley?"
Gus scratched the back of his neck. "Just looking for an inn, honestly."
Nyra raised a skeptical brow. "Convenient."
Bartholomew held up his hands, palms smudged with cheese dust and residue. "Coincidence! I swear on the integrity of the wheelbarrow."
Willow sighed. "We really are travelers, but we didn't think that you might be from a department. Probably would have thought twice before showing our powers, considering your stance on Auspex."
Nyra blinked, the skepticism draining from her face and quickly replaced with dawning realization. "Wait… powers?"
Her eyes flicked from Joren to Willow, as if suddenly replaying the scene in her head with new context.
"You—oh. Ohhh." She took a half-step back and clutched the front of her coat. "You're… those kind of travelers. I see."
Willow crossed her arms, clearly unamused. "What kind did you think we were? Spice vendors?"
Bartholomew sniffed, wiping a tear away. "I am a spice vendor. Technically."
Joren didn't move. "You said you monitor threats before they start. So what do we look like to you now?"
Nyra opened her mouth, closed it, then turned red. "Obviously the good kind! We don't go after people JUST because they have Auspex abilities, only those that are dangerous and cause chaos. It's a lengthy process to put hits on people, just so you know."
Willow raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed now. "That's supposed to be comforting?"
Nyra threw her hands up, exasperated. "No! I mean—yes? I mean it's not like that!" She rubbed her temples again, groaning. "Ugh, I'm saying this all wrong. I just mean there's nuance. If someone displays a tendency for destruction and harm, a few departments meet and discuss what we want to do if they are near our borders or towns."
Gus crossed his arms. "And by discuss, you mean...?"
Nyra flinched. "Discuss! Just—just talk, okay? Like civilized people! There's usually paperwork involved. Meetings and arguments about jurisdiction. It's all very boring and bureaucratic."
Bartholomew narrowed his eyes. "So boring it kills. Classic cover-up technique."
"Not everything is a conspiracy," Nyra muttered, then immediately backpedaled. "Actually, wait, that's not true. Some things are definitely conspiracies. But that's not the point! The point is, we don't go hunting Auspex just because they have powers. Only dangerous people who cause harm or kill mindlessly."
Willow crossed her arms. "And who decides what counts as 'dangerous'? Some desk committee who's never left the capital?"
Nyra looked genuinely offended. "Excuse you! I leave the capital all the time! That's how I got a bruise on my collarbone and rice in my coat pocket."
Gus smirked. "So you're the exception?"
Nyra huffed, but then gave a sheepish shrug. "Okay, fine, most of them are glued to chairs. Not every department worries about those things, they all have their own specialty. We don't go hunting people who help out of the goodness of their heart, we usually send them after terrorists and people who work in organizations meant to create chaos to the system."
Willow's eyes remained steady. "And who decides what counts as chaos to the system? People don't always agree on what that means."
Nyra opened her mouth to retort, then paused. Her lips pressed into a thin line, and she let out a long sigh. "You're not wrong. There's a lot of debate about that kind of thing behind closed doors. Definitions get fuzzy, people argue. It's messy to say the least."
She rubbed the back of her neck, visibly frustrated. "That's why I joined Continuity, okay? Someone had to care about nuance of the system. About what people actually think and feel instead of what's politically clean. It's not perfect, but I'd rather be part of the process than pretend I can't change it."
Bartholomew nodded as if she'd just said something profound. "I once joined a turnip guild to protest radish quotas. They said I was a danger too."
Nyra gave him a wary side-eye. "I feel like that story ends with property damage."
"It ends with enlightenment." Bart said solemnly.
Joren exhaled through his nose, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at his mouth. He looked at Nyra. "So what now? We go our separate ways?"
Nyra hesitated.
"I… was kind of hoping we could stick together for a bit," she admitted a little too fast, face blushing fast. "You guys saved me, so I was wondering..."
"Of course you can come with us tonight. We will be getting an Inn for the night, so you can stick with us and we can get you back to your department first thing tomorrow." Joren said, offering her his hand.
Nyra looked at his hand like it had caught her off guard, then quickly took it with an awkward little nod, shaking it as equals.
"Thanks," she mumbled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she stepped beside him. "But I'm paying for dessert. It's the least I can do."
Bartholomew gasped. "Do they have aged gouda pastries? This could change everything."
Nyra blinked. "What? No, I meant, like… cinnamon bread or sugar crisps. Normal desserts."
Bartholomew looked genuinely betrayed. "Okay..."
As the group began walking back toward the lamplit streets of the district, the tension eased, if only slightly. The danger had passed, but the questions hadn't. Joren glanced back once more at the empty alley, then turned away.
He didn't know yet what Nyra's involvement would mean for their path ahead, but they couldn't send her on her way after what just happened. It was like playing with fire.
Then again, Joren did that all the time.