The sun shone down on the Upper Spire, covering the entire area in bright light. The streets were starting to wake up, and people were going about their business. Donarenzo and Isani were no different. After getting ready, they headed straight for the tallest building in the Upper Spire–so tall it felt as if it was almost touching the clouds. As they walked, they received dirty looks and stares from many people, despite Isani having covered his tattoos.
"Do you think they don't like having visitors?" Isani asked.
"Maybe, but I have a feeling it's something a lot more childish."
"Like what?"
"People can't keep their eyes to themselves when they see someone different."
"But I've covered my tattoos."
Donarenzo stopped, turned to face Isani, and placed a hand on his head.
"Unfortunately, unless you look like you're one of the residents, or someone who could be, you won't be treated the same."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing important. Let's continue forward."
They continued to walk through the now bustling streets. People had set up shop, and traffic began to grow. Eventually, after a long walk, the pair made it to the front gate and were met by a tall, muscular man. His presence alone demanded order, and his voice seemed to make the earth vibrate with a single sentence.
"Identification and Ownership card for your little friend there," he said without so much as even looking at the pair.
"Here's my identification, and the boy is my apprentice, so he doesn't have a card," Donarenzo said, waving his identification in the air for the man to view.
The man took a breath and exhaled. He remained silent for a few seconds before responding.
"Identification and Ownership card for your little friend there."
"What's this Ownership card that seems so important?" Isani asked.
"It's an obsolete piece of plastic, so no need to worry." Donarenzo turned back to the tall man. "Could you bring the mayor down? I'm sure he'll understand–"
"Identification and Ownership card for your little friend there–"
"My, my, I'm so sorry, I wasn't expecting visitors," a voice called out from behind the giant.
"Norc. You can let them through."
"You. May. Pass," he said at a slow pace.
Donarenzo and Isani made their way through and were met by a lanky man with long grey hair and rough grey facial hair who sported a slightly rugged top hat, yet wore a high-quality tailored suit, complete with a pocket watch to match.
"Well, gentlemen. What business do you have with the mayor of this beautiful city?"
"Thank you for letting us pass, but may we all speak in private?" Donarenzo asked.
"Well, of course. But that boy will need to be searched first."
"And what about me?"
"Why would I search one of the few great detectives who've done me the honor of arriving on my doorstep?"
"You give me too much credit."
"Credit that's long due, son. Well, let's go. The boy will be right behind you."
Donarenzo and the mayor made their way to his meeting room, located all the way at the top of the building–far away from restless eyes and ears. Isani quickly joined them before getting completely lost in the massive structure.
"So, what is it that you want?" the mayor asked, taking a seat and gesturing for the pair to sit as well.
"Well, there's been an unnerving series of events taking place back in Luvino. Some of which I can't disclose, but I need any information you have on a captain by the name of Halden."
"Ah, a man of legend. I've heard many tall tales about him–though I wonder how many are true." He leaned back in his chair. "I'm afraid I've never had the luxury of meeting the man in person, so my information is minimal."
"All right then. Have you heard about the string of murders taking place in Luvino?"
"Are you talking about the Wraith?"
"Yes, the public executioner. How he hasn't been identified yet is beyond me."
"Well, how do you identify someone who can be anyone, anywhere, at any time?"
"Excuse me?"
"Well, according to the stories I hear, he's a master of disguise–so much so that it's said he takes on the very essence of whoever he's impersonating."
"And who's your source?"
"No one in particular. I just hear things in this city."
"Well, do you know anything else that might be of interest?"
"I do, but it's information I can only give to friends."
"Friends?" Isani repeated, confused.
"I'll start. My name is Griswold Throstle, the mayor of this city. My friends call me Gris."
"Well, as you probably know, I'm Donarenzo, and my apprentice is Isani."
"Thank you for having us, sir," Isani said politely.
"Well, now that we're all officially acquainted, I'll tell you anything you might find interesting, but I have a little favor to ask."
"And what might that be?" Donarenzo asked with caution.
"Well, you two seem to have brought some unwanted company along with you. If you could take care of it for me, I'd be most grateful," he said, a sinister smile never leaving his face.
At that moment, the air in the room grew heavy. Donarenzo and Isani dropped into their stances just as rapid footsteps echoed outside the door.
BANG.
The door flew open, splintering against the stone walls. Two figures in white robes stood framed in the wreckage, their faces hidden behind smooth, blank masks.
"Now, this is what makes a good story. Will the great detectives triumph, or will they fall short?" Gris said, still comfortably seated in his chair, a look of twisted excitement in his eyes.
"Did you set us up?" Donarenzo barked.
"I would never do such a thing. I simply brought what would've been a danger out on the streets into the safe confines of my own home–which should be to the advantage of you and that apprentice of yours–"
They didn't wait for him to finish. The robed figures moved with terrifying speed, closing the distance in a heartbeat.
The taller one lashed out at Isani with a closed fist aimed straight for the temple. Isani ducked low, feeling the wind of the punch hiss over his hair, and threw a counter-jab. But the robed man anticipated it, catching Isani's wrist mid-air and wrenching his arm outward.
Isani gritted his teeth, using his momentum to pivot and sweep a low kick at the man's knee. The man stumbled, but the female assassin instantly stepped into the gap, driving a sharp elbow toward Isani's chest.
Isani threw his arms up to block, the bone-jarring impact forcing him back a step.
"Sir!" Isani yelled, struggling to keep his footing.
"Got it!" Donarenzo shouted.
Donarenzo reached into his coat and tossed Isani's panga across the room. Isani caught the hilt out of the air just as the robed man lunged again, this time drawing a short, jagged dagger from beneath his robes.
Clang!
The blade struck the panga with a sharp spark. Isani parried a vicious downward slash, but the man twisted his wrist, grinding steel against steel. The sheer physical strength of the robed attacker caught Isani off guard, pushing him backward until his spine slammed hard against the edge of the desk.
Across the room, Donarenzo faced the female assassin alone.
She moved like a ghost, throwing a relentless flurry of open-palm strikes. Donarenzo threw a left hook, but she parried it effortlessly, stepping inside his guard and driving a knee straight into his stomach.
Donarenzo gasped, the air leaving his lungs in a sharp rush. He stumbled back, grabbing the edge of a chair to steady himself.
She didn't give him a second to breathe. She lunged forward with a palm strike aimed at his throat. Donarenzo dropped low at the last possible second, tackling her around the waist with all his weight and slamming her hard against the stone wall.
Crack.
She grunted, but instead of folding, she wrapped her legs around Donarenzo's torso and twisted, trying to flip him over. Donarenzo slammed his elbow down onto her shoulder to break her hold, pulled back, and threw a heavy right cross that finally sent her crashing to the floor, unconscious.
On the other side of the room, Isani was in deep trouble.
The robed man had beaten down his guard, forcing the panga out of alignment. He landed a brutal kick straight into Isani's ribs, sending the boy crashing onto the floor.
Isani coughed, tasting blood. He tried to scramble backward, but the assassin stood right over him, raising the jagged dagger high, ready to plunge it down into Isani's chest.
BANG.
The sound was deafening in the enclosed room.
Isani blinked, bracing for the pain, but it never came. Instead, a thick puff of smoke and a spray of warm air hit his face. He looked up. A clean, smoking hole was blown straight through the robed man's chest. The assassin froze, his eyes widening behind his mask, before collapsing face-first onto the floor, lifeless.
Griswold Throstle slowly lowered his hand. He took out a silk handkerchief, calmly wiped down the barrel of his hidden desk firearm, and tucked it back into the drawer with a click.
Donarenzo caught his breath, leaning heavily against the wall, while Isani lay on the floor, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes.
"Well then," Gris said, adjusting his cuffs with a bright, unfazed smile as he pointed toward the two bloodied chairs. "Now that that's taken care of... care for a seat?"