Jzoanne La Hire stepped into the compact, dimly lit room that served as her office and let out a long sigh. Sweat dripped off her short chestnut hair, threatening to land in her matching eyes as she struggled against the protest of muscles to walk across the room and to the desk and promise of a seat. Thankful for the layer of padding between her skin and the plates and chain mesh she wore as part of her uniform, Jzoanne began unbuckling the straps to her armor. Upon reaching the chair, she spun on her heel and collapsed backwards into her destination. Thick oak supports buckled under the sudden assault, but the heavy bolts held firm.
   Muttering a brief prayer of thanks to the gods of carpentry, whomever they happened to be, Jzoanne fumbled to work the clasps holding her breastplate together. Leather and brass slapped and separated, pulling the steel from her body. A long sigh of relief escaped Jzoanne, and she leaned back further and sighs in content. It had been a long night, and the temptation to fall asleep even here in her restrictive armor and uncomfortable chair was difficult to resist. But she would regret it in the morning. From experience, she knew she would.
   Just as she was about to settle, the sound of rapping on heavy timber roused Jzoanne back  to attention. “Huh?” she snorted and looked up to see who was calling on her. 
   Taeba stood in the doorway to Jzoanne’s office. Taeba was an akaru: a member of a race descended from tall, predatory birds who chased their prey on long, powerful legs rather than with flight. He was dressed in a matching set of armor similar to the one Jzoanne was wearing. The bird-like man tilted its head, letting his bright blue and red plumage sway from left to right. black reflective eyes stared at her in a way most would find unnerving, but Jzoanne had known this one long enough to tell the inquisitiveness behind them.
   “Oh, Taeba.” Jzoanne sat up straight and sniffed, “What do you need?”
   *Pardon to intrude,* the akaru’s talon-like fingers move in a flurry of signs, *but there’s a prisoner down in the cells that wants to talk to you.*
   Jzoanne furrowed her brow and signed back, *What prisoner?*
   *I didn’t get his name.* Taeba replied, *Tall man, brown hair. Gruff voice.*
   Frustration escaped Jzoannes lips and her head fell into her hands. *Shit.*
   “All right.” Jzoanne pushed back against the chair, which answered in a shriek as wood danced across bare stone. Not for the first time, Jzoanne cursed herself for never putting a carpet down. “Take me to him.”
   Taeba nodded and waited for Jzoanne to readjust her straps before leading her off down in the direction of the cells. The floor they were on served as space for offices and interrogation rooms, with the floor below bustling with the activity of guardsmen going on and off their shifts, dragging in prisoners and taking quick breaks before going back out to deal with the city of Elderherst at its very worst. Their pair pushed their way through the crowd, using the weight of their armor and sense of urgency to cut through the thicker knots of humans, orcs, elves and whatever other people saw fit to cause trouble tonight.
   Behind the desk of the watch house’s sergeant, Jzoanne and Taeba passed through a heavy iron-reinforced door covered with runes of glistening silverine - a bright, brilliant metal that some believed was alive. As they passed by the ward, Jzoanne’s stomach dropped and the feeling of lethargy in her muscles intensified, causing her to stumble. The wards were doing their job, perhaps a little too well.
   The stairs leading down the cells below the watch house were narrow and steep, but thankfully dry. Their heavy booted footfalls reverberated off the stone walls, announcing their presence to the guardsman on duty. By the time they had reached the bottom and turned to greet the guardsman, the large orc had already set his cards aside and stood at attention.
   “Evening, Mawg.” Jzoanne groaned, “Taeba says you have a prisoner asking for me?”
   “Yeah that’s one way of putting it.” Mawg, the orc, nodded. “Poor bastard down here’s been shouting for you ever since he woke up. Kept saying he has pull with the law around here.”
   “Of course he did.” Jzoanne groaned, “I’m surprised he didn’t say anything about diplomatic immunity.”
   “He tried.” the orc laughed, “First thing he used, actually.” Jerking his thumb behind his back, Mawg continued, “Last cell in the back, on your left.”
   “Thanks Mawg.” Jzoanne nodded, “I owe you an ale.”
   “With the headache he’s been giving me, you owe me three.” Mawg grumbled, “Now get down there before he starts to sing again.”
   *Singing.* Jzoanne cringed, *Sweet Fates it’s worse than I thought.*
   With a final nod of thanks, Jzoanne took the lead and marched down the row of cells that were overstuffed with drunks and thieves who would be out in the morning after they slept off their crimes. All the while, her eyes never wavered in either vision or determination; wanting nothing more than to get this over with and finally go home and to bed. Maybe the guards would understand if she slept in for a week. Taeba and Mawg would understand.
   As she reached her destination, Jzoanne slowed her pace and finally came to a halt at the cell’s edge. A pale orange light emanated from inside the cell, casting a long shadow of a slumbering figure against the opposite side. Jzoanne’s heart skipped a beat and her hands clenched in reflex. How long had it been since she saw the sole occupant of that room? Two, no three years? It could not have been more than four, surely. Five at the most. Right? The years stretched and compressed in her mind; mixing dates and events in a way that made her stomach lurch and the headache she had felt as a dull pain rose to feel like someone had bludgeoned her with a maul. 
   A sudden tap on her shoulders brought Jzoanne back to reality, and she spun on her heel to stare back into the face of Taeba. Akaru features are subtle, seemingly unchanging to the untrained eye. But Taeba had been Jzoanne’s partner long enough that she could tell when he was concerned.
   *Are you all right?* talons moved in a deliberate speed to convey the gentle emotion.
   With a sigh, Jzoanne nodded and turned back to face the cell, “Let’s just get this over with.”
   Standing perfectly in the center of the frame, Jzoanne rapped her steel-clad knuckles against the iron bars.
   The figure laying on the cot groaned in protest. His back was facing Jzoanne, so all she could make out was the long chestnut hair. With a series of sudden shifts, the figure turned first to its side, and then onto his back before finally sitting up on the cot. The long hair draped across the man’s face, cloaking his features like a cowl against the elements. In the orange illumination cast by the sole magic orb fixed to the ceiling, Jzoanne could make out the matching beard underneath. 
   “What do you want?” the man asked without looking up. His accent was thick, gruff, and his vowels stretched on for what seemed like an eternity. 
   “Some warm food and a bed would be nice.” Jzoanne snapped back, unable to hide the smirk. “But I guess I’ll settle for talking to you, first.”
   That snapped the prisoner’s face up and he stared back at her with brown eyes that matched Jzoanne’s. For the siblings, it was like looking at an inverted mirror. One was male while the other female, one disheveled and unkempt where the other was clean and cut. One a prisoner where the other was a keeper of prisoners.
   Andre’s lips broke into a wide, white smile and he shot off from the cot, “Jzoanne!” He laughed and slapped his knee hard, “I knew you’d come get me out!”
   “Well that remains to be seen.” Jzoanne replied, folding her arms across her chest.
   Andre remained sitting on his cot for a while, letting the heavy and uncomfortable silence build between them. It was not the answer he had expected, but after so long, perhaps the one he deserved. “You uh… you look good!” He ventured, trying desperately to break the ice. “How long has it been?”
   “A long time.” Jzoanne’s answer is short, curt, and heavy. Even from the distance between them, Jzoanne could smell the mix of bodily odors and alcohol emanating from her brother, “What did you do this time?”
   “What?” Andre furrowed his brow; a hurt look crossed his face, “Nothing! I mean… nothing as bad as you think, I’m sure.”
   “Right.” Jzoanne crossed her arms, her tone as unconvinced as her body language, “And that’s why you smell like a still?”
   Andre stammered, “So I had a bit to drink! What mercenary doesn’t love a good mug or two?” He leaned up against the bars and muttered , “If they could find one in this town, anyway.”
   Jzoanne shook her head, “How much did you have, anyway?”
   “Not much.” Andre replied. His face contorted as he thought, “Probably enough to be sleeping it off since… what’s today?”
   “Lunedae.” Jzoanne answered in a flat tone.
   Andre’s eyes widened and he whistled, “Three days. Yeah, wow that is cause for concern then.”
   *Yes, that is.* Jzoanne stared daggers at her younger brother, wondering how they ever could have come from the same stock. “Is that why you called me down here? To get your older sister to bail you out on being a drunkard?”
   “No!” Andre started, then backpedaled, “Well, yes. I mean, to bail me out, sure, but not for the drunkard thing. It’s…” he paused and squinted at Jzoanne, “Hang on, where’s your accent?”
   Jzoanne’s cheeks turned red hot, “My what?”
   “Your accent.” Andre repeated more insistently, “Unless I’m so drunk that I can’t tell it’s not there anymore. But even after three days I don’t think I’d be that far gone and - oh sweet Divines you’ve gone native.” His eyes widened in shock and horror.
   “What?!” Jzoanne protested, her jaw falling wide open, “No! I haven’t ‘gone native’!”
   “Yes you have!” Andre called back, “I can hear it! You talk just like the people in this town!”
   “I’ve been living here for ten years, Andre!” Jzoanne snapped back.
   “I can tell!” Andre bemoaned, “Oh if only Momma was alive to hear you now!”
   The heat rose in Jzoanne’s cheeks and she rushed the bars. Her face was only an inch from her brother’s, staring him down dagger for dagger, “Don’t you dare bring Momma into this.”
   “Or what?” Andre spat back, “You going to go and leave again?”
   That did it. Jzoanne’s body shook in fury and she slammed both her gauntlet-wrapped fists into the bars with enough force to rattle the cage. Andre, to his credit, did not flinch but doubled down, slamming the bars in kind with his own bare fists.
   Taeba swooped in between the two and, bracing one hand on each of their chests, forced the siblings apart by force. Jzoanne and Andre both stumbled, but Jzoanne at least had the advantage of being steadied by her partner. Andre, on the other hand, lurched backwards and fell flat on his backside against the cold stone floor.
   For a moment, Jzoanne tried to push passed Taeba, but the akaru held her at bay with arms of taut muscle. She looked back at him to protest, but something about his expression told Jzoanne it was a futile gesture.
   As Andre worked his way back up to his feet, the two La Hires stared each other down from their respective corners. Their chests heaved in concert while their eyes glowered at each other. Years of unresolved conflict filled the gap between them, stretching the void out to oblivion.
   Tears began to blur Jzoanne’s vision, and she was just about to leave when Andre spoke.
   “I’m sorry.” His voice is thick with grief and regret. “I shouldn’t have brought Momma into this. What happened was not your fault.”
   Jzoanne’s breath shudders from constrained rage, “You’re right. It wasn’t yours, either.”
   That seemed to break the tension between the two. For the moment at least.
   Finally, Jzoanne shook her head and sighed, “All right. What brought you here?”
   A large grin spread across Andre’s face and his eyes lit up brighter than the bulb over his head, “You’ll hear me out?”
   Jzoanne scoffed, “By Elderherst law I have to listen to your testimony if I’m going to deliberate. Just… tell me no one is dead, right?”
   “What?” Andre was taken aback, then stammered, “No! No! I mean…” he moves his head side to side and looks up at the light, “Far as I know? It’s been four days.”
   Jzoanne closed her eyes and braced herself. *I am going to regret this.* “Tell me what happened.”
   Andre nodded and leaned up against the bars, bracing himself on his forearms, “Well, I’ve been in town for about a month, yeah? Doing odd jobs and the like. So, last week I was at some random winehouse when I noticed this cute lad eyeing me from across the room.”
   Jzoanne groaned, “Look, if this is going to become another story about how you got laid-”
   “Well that’s the thing.” Andre interrupted, “At first I thought that’s what he was eyeing me for. But it turns out it was for a completely different reason; connected to a certain group I had at one time been employed by.”
   The way Andre dropped his head at the end of the sentence made Jzoanne’s own stomach drop. Realization crept up her spine and she shivered at the feeling, “Oh Andre, please tell me you’re not working for the Iron Boars again.”
   “Of course not!” Andre protested, then shrugged his shoulders, “I mean, not officially. Look, I thought the lad was an assassin they sent to go and do me in one; but then I remembered they’re never that subtle. Can’t be with a name like ‘Iron Boars’, now can you? It’s not like being the ‘Satin Cats’, now is it?”
   Jzoanne shrugged. He had a point there. “So what did he want?”
   “To hire me, believe it or not.” Andre explained. “Nothing official; he just wanted my help in strong-arming a merchant into paying them protection fees for his routes. He somehow knew I worked for the Boars back in the day and wanted someone he knew could get a job done. Same old thing, you know?”
   Jzoanne’s jaw could not drop any further. “You accepted a leg-breaker job?”
   “No, we were just going to talk to him.” Andre asserted, “He was some old midraabi from Suda. We didn’t even bring weapons. The whole idea was to just lean on him, make a few veiled threats, and then haggle over the price of protection for his caravans. You know, the usual.”
   This time it was Taeba’s turn to protest. His talons flashed in a flurry, demanding to know if Andre had just confessed to threatening a citizen.
   Andre’s expression was one of sheer dumbfoundedness, “Oh. I forgot the bird can understand me.”
   Taeba’s crest ruffled and it was Jzoanne’s turn to step between them. “His name is Taeba. He’s one of my partners.”
   The younger La Hire cocked an eyebrow, “You have a stranger taste in men than I do, but who am I to judge?”
   Before Jzoanne could protest, Andre continued on with his story, “So, anyway, we meet up with a couple of orcs and a dwarf or two. These guys I can tell are real Iron Boars, unlike the pretty one. They’ve all got that same build of a brick wall if brought to life. Matching personalities, as well. Anyway, I’m trying to get some information about this job. Who is he? What does he sell? Does he have friends we should worry about? I’m getting stone-walled the whole time, appropriate enough considering my company.”
   Taking in a breath, Andre smacks his lips together, “I’m sorry, do we have any water?”
   The sudden request takes Jzoanne aback for a moment, “Oh. Oh, yes. Yeah, hold on.” Fumbling around on her waist, Jzoanne found the leathery pouch of her waterskin and undid the strap before offering it to     Andre. “There’s not much left.” The blush on her cheeks was radiating.
   Upon seeing the offered skin, Andre’s smile softened and he reached out to accept. As he pulled it in, his free hand undid the cork and he brought it to his lips. To his surprise, the water was still cool and crisp as it poured down his throat. “Nice. Enchanted?”
   Jzoanne nodded, “Worth every common. You wouldn’t believe how hot the summers get here.”
   “With all these people? I believe it.” Andre chuckled and wiped the drippings from his mouth. “Now where was I? Oh, yes. We end up in this little hovel of a shop; all veiled in shadows. Sounds right, you know, for being someplace a midraabi does business? So, we go inside and the owner is this really old midraabi. I mean, his eyes are just pools of spoiled milk and his fur is mostly gray. He looked like he was hanging on by stubbornness and prayers.”
   Jzoanne’s ears pricked up when they noticed the softening of Andre’s tone. Was that pity she heard in his voice?
   Shaking his head, Andre took another swig and continued, “The young pretty thing starts leaning in on the midraabi. Hard. I mean, I know what the rest of us were there for, but the way he talked, I felt like we were just the bow on this parcel. We may have all been hard men, but this boy…” he whistled, “that boy was a vanguard with his words. All charge, all thrust. No mercy.”
   A wave of discomfort rolled through Jzoanne’s body and she shifted position. She flashed a furtive glance at Taeba, and for the first time in a while wondered what thoughts were buried under the akaru’s vacant expression. None of his subtle cues were at play.
   “Then the boy grabbed the midraabi by the arm and held it out to us. Looked at me and told me to break it.” Andre sighed and buried his head in his chest. What issued from his mouth was either a sigh or a sob, but it was difficult to tell until he lifted his head back. This time, Andre smiled at them, “So I punched that boy in his pretty face.”
   Shock plowed through Jzoanne. That was not where she thought the story was going to go. “You what?”
   “I punched him.” Andre repeated with a shrug. “He told me the job was going to be nonviolent, and I believed him until I saw the other gutter trash he had assembled to help with it. Had a feeling the job was going to turn sideways, so I waited to see if I was going to join in, and which side it would be.” He sniffed and thumbed his nose, “So I chose.”
   Jzoanne stammered, “But why did you side with the midraabi?”
   “Haven’t you been listening?” Andre scoffed, “He was an old man. He wasn’t a threat to anyone, and even if he refused he didn’t deserve that sort of treatment. And besides.... His family was in the other room, watching it.”
   Jzoanne’s heart melted just a bit more for her brother. A knowing smile began to creep on her face, “How many kids?”
   “Six.” Andre recollected. “Grandkids, most likely. Khast and his kind, they were probably great grandkids if I’m any judge of his age. I forget how long midraabi can live sometimes, you know?”
   With a nod, Jzoanne motioned for her brother to continue.
   “Anyway,” Andre goes on with a smile, “would you believe me if I said I fought off four men with only my wits and ample adjudication of my fists?”
   A laugh escaped Jzoanne, short and sweet as it was melodic. “No. Not for a minute.”
   Andre smirked, “Good, because they kicked the living shit out of me. They probably would have killed me too if that midraabi hadn’t started chucking lightning at them.” He chuckled and shook his head at the memory, “Guess that old man wasn’t so harmless after all.”
   The pieces of Andre’s story began to come together in Jzoanne’s mind, “He’s a Second Soul dealer, isn’t he?”
   Andre nodded, “Turns out he used to be one of their biggest suppliers. But with the damn Everran making things harder on the trade, people like him have to delve deeper into other sources. And that makes it more dangerous to get. And more expensive.”
   “Which I take the Boars don’t appreciate?” Jzoanne ventured.
   “Does anyone enjoy paying more for anything?” Andre laughed. “The boy really was sent to negotiate having garrisons put on the caravans for a discount. But he was as overzealous as he was beautiful. And just as stupid, too.”
   Jzoanne was almost afraid to ask, but she had to, “What happened to him?”
   “Fucked if I know.” Andre shrugged, “Ran out the minute the bolts started flying. I’m sure by now the Boars brass have heard and are stringing him up by his bits.” He let out a wistful sigh, “I bet they were nice-looking bits, too.”
   Sometimes, the direction Andre’s mind went would astound Jzoanne. “So what happened with the midraabi?”
   “He thanked me for stepping in and paid me a handsome sum.” Andre recounted with a sense of pride.                          
   “And then he said he was getting the fuck out of Elderherst because he doesn’t want the Boars trying to find his family.”
   *So a black market Second Soul dealer is probably long gone by now.* Jzoanne mused with a mix of frustration and relief. One less Second Soul dealer was always a boon, but there were always two more waiting in the wings to take over the trade. They seemed to become more common; more cutthroat, with each passing day. “That still doesn’t explain how you got in this cell.”
   “Oh.” Andre’s eyes widened in realization. “I got drunk off the money the midraabi gave me. Passed out after getting into a fight or two and woke up here.”
   The laugh started in Jzoanne’s stomach and rolled up her body like the coming of a tidal wave. A burst of laughter shaped into peels as she doubled over and gripped at her stomach.
   For a moment, Andre watched his sister laugh with confusion. But then the confusion turned to bemusement. And only a second passed before he too started chuckling and bowled over himself, sharing in the joke his dear sweet Jzoanne had uncovered.
   Only stalwart Taeba remained immune to the infectious laughter that now rolled its way down the corridor, waking up every prisoner in the drunk tanks. To the akaru, it must have seemed as though the world had gone mad. Or at least, his partner did.
   Who knows what thoughts lurk behind the eyes of an akaru?
   After what seemed like an eternity, Jzoanne stood back up and wiped the tears from her eyes, careful of her gauntlets. A few more belly laughs came out and she shook her head, “All right. Let me get the key and get you out of there.”
   Andre stopped laughing and looked up at his sister, “Are you serious?”
   Jzoanne nodded, “And after that, I’m taking you to the bath house next to the flop I sleep at. And then you and I are going to get some breakfast, talk, and then sleep until the sun goes back down. Does that sound good?”
   New tears formed in Andre’s eyes. The laughter may not have returned, but the joy certainly did, “I’d like that.”