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A man of great age sat at a small cafe table with his long grey hair pulled back into a low ponytail, while he wore white linen robes. His appearance gave played the illusion he was a wise wizard placed in modern times. He sat there enjoying his lunch break.

White hairs of his bread picked up the fallen crumbs that escaped from his grasp. How troublesome it was to have a tidy snack before he went on to the business at hand. The old man began to eat the rest of his smeared strawberry jam on wheat toast. Each bite gave him a sense of joy, the strawberry jam was made by his dear wife, Jasmine. He joyfully thought his wife did a splendid job on the mixture and homemade wheat bread. Its taste cannot be compared! He quickly reminded himself that homemade goods were always the best. Small bites gave him time to appreciate its sweet taste accompanied by tea time. Too bad his quivering fingers didn't match his eagerness—

"Sage Anthony!"

The sudden exclamation of his name and title startled the old man. He gagged on the little bits of food he had just eaten. He patted his crest frantically, coughing trying to clear out his passageway. The rapid pacing of steps greeted him during his rude awakening.

"Sage An—"

"My word Curtis Jacobson! Sit down!" The Sage belted out. "Keeping a bloody nuisance when the morning comes!"

The young man took his place across the small café steel table. Thick white and gray-haired eyebrows creased due to the presence of the younger gentleman. He began to massage his temples in annoyance. One eye took a short glance of the Curtis Jacobson, a man of great skill. Although greatly intelligent, he is a man sometimes of little common sense. He was whether reckless for someone of his standing. The Sage once again took a gladder at the caramel-skinned man. Curtis adjusted his glasses in waiting. He has little to no common sense.

"What brings you here child?" he finally mumbled. "I'm here regarding the incident of Al' Bucher's vampire house on 25 Trove street," Curtis said in a low voice. This case made the older man feel uneasy about the whole thing. The Sage gave the youngster his full attention moving his tea slightly to the side. "What about it?" he finally said

Curtis's curly black short tresses reached slightly below his brow, giving him a boyish charm as he spoke despite his thick voice. "Fifteen disappearances of the female victims during the rainy season was reported…"

"That is already to my knowledge Mr. Jacobson."

Curtis frowned this time making his news apparent. "We found remains of only ten victims buried within the basement. The way they were discarded in the state of broken bones. Based on how the bones were broken. There are precise clean cuts. Some of the bone was shaved down and others were cut through. From the remains that were found, it was concluded they were merely scraps." Anthony raised one of his thick eyebrows in question. "It came to our attention that certain materials were sold at the shop that was directed to an outside source. The hair, skin, bodily fluids and body fat were stripped from them. The remaining five were chained in caskets."

"Alive?"

The gentleman merely shook his head, with his knuckles still clutched. Anthony sighed due to the grim news. "What of the coven?" he questioned. "No further information was gained regarding any covens as of yet. It is believed to be that of a Duke of House." At that moment, Anthony's face fell to the new stress that has built up over his workload. "A Duke of House…" The old man muffled under his breath.

Curtis continued to hold his clenched fists on the table. Soon after, he slowly loosened his grip due to its numbness. "If I may—"

"Before you continue Mr. Jacobson, I will not have recklessness among my Order!" Sage Anthony pointed out. Curtis's gaze fell onto his hands, slowly thinking of his words. "Sage, you know I can do this! "He stopped short as the Sage brought up his hand in silence. "I don't know such things! You are too eager Mr. Jacobson. It is still unclear— of your full extent. That symbol that you bear engraved in your back is that of the unknown! Something of the unknown…what good will it do!?" Anthony brought up his hands once again massaging his temples in little tolerance, but his eyes grew wary. "It is nonetheless dangerous dealing with a Duke of House. It is known, multiple covens can resign within the same House. And yet, only Sages can truly deal with Dukes." He paused briefly at the younger man. He sat there in silence. "Now, I have no appetite. My tea is cold and my toast is eaten in a hurry." The old man mumbled under his breath, getting up from his seat.

He paused for a bit to take a longer look at Curtis. He indeed has the makings of someone great, yet too hot-blooded. The Sage once again sighed under the influence of the younger fellow. Regardless of Curtis's intent, he couldn't let something loose that can be the danger of us all. Even the Organization's efforts for the well being of the state can't foretell the true damage that this boy can do within the public. Nor can the full protection of this boy take effect if his cooperation isn't at hand. It's dangerous for him to be about unattended. "Mr. Jacobson," he finally said underneath his breath. "I will assume that Mr. Andrew is your attendant." Curtis blinked twice before he could answer him. "That is correct."

"That is good… good. Take note of this once again…you shall only gather information nothing less, nothing more. Let Mr. Andrew accompany you if you need further protection…"

Curtis only nodded to the man in acknowledgment. "That is good. I shall be off." The Sage said before his departure towards the younger fellow. Curtis leaned back into his seat letting out a heavy sigh while letting his fingers comb his curly midnight hair. It bothered him that he was not yet to be trusted.

He left his seat soon after the moment of peace that was given. It took him a while to shuffle from his position even though he was under a time limit. His tired lean figure warily moved through the small café towards the door. It was more on the lines of assuring that his watchdog had no worries. He hasn't made a run for it nor killed himself and others in the process. A colossal of a man waited for him near the opened street. A man of forty-five, clothed in an Organization's khaki uniform, as he wore a brown collared shirt and faded jeans. Mr. Andrew only smiled towards the smaller man wholeheartedly as he took comfort against a lantern street light. His full cherry blond bread, mustache, and eyebrows were the only thing evident that Mr. Andrew once had hair. A thunder of a voice startled Curtis to an extent; he still wasn't quite use to it yet. Mr. Andrew's laughter greeted the retreated man. "I'm surprised! The Sage didn't eat you alive. Instead, you left him with a headache!" He snickered at his own jokes. Curtis began to miss his short-lived moment of peace. "I just went to the point." Curtis alleged. "No wonder. I also assume you left him rushing to break to the door."Mr. Andrew's thick accent seemed to thunder even though it wasn't intended.

His ears rang of his companion's voice, but he paid little mind to it. This is something he needed to get used to.

"Mr. Andrew—"

"Enough with the formalities dear Curtis!" The man bustled. "I've been your partner for almost four months now."

"More like watchdog…" The younger man let out. The husky man thundered laughter came through once again, walking besides Curtis. "It's more on the line for protection measures! But besides that, Corey will do." He hummed in a low tone. Curtis found his companion somewhat amusing rather than an annoyance. He's good company and someone who didn't judge him. Corey came to a sudden halt in his movements as if something struck him. Curtis eyed him a bit, slowing his walk. He wanted to ask, but he didn't want to. The faster he went back to work, the better. His eyes grew weary of his watchdog. It looked like a giant mumbling to himself. "What's wrong?" Curtis plainly spoke. Corey lifted up his head slightly.

His big round eyes stared at him through a thick brush of eyebrows. "I'm glad you asked," he whispered. Corey's eyes darted towards his left and right as if mocking a cartoon character, letting out a sly smile. His walk was sturdy yet slow, alerting Curtis. Hard muscle swung itself around Curtis's shoulders keeping him in place. "I-I have a favor to ask…" His voice cooed towards the younger man. Curtis slowly began to shake his head in protest. When ironclad muscles tighten his neck movement from going into a full swing. "Don't be like that," His words were slow, but taunting. "You don't even know what it is, for you to say no." Like his burly smile was going to accept a 'no.' The weight of his arm added discomfort to the man's lean frame. "What is it?" Curtis words came out leaking with precaution. A low hum rumble in the older man's throat, as his smile turned into a half-smirk. "It'll be an honor," he stared off. "To have you over for dinner."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight!"

"I have work to do and besides—" Corey's grip tighten, cutting his words short. "Too much work isn't healthy! Take a load off! With you running around in a three-day notice for this case, you're going to burn—out!" He chuckled a bit waiting for the tables to turn his way. Corey's grip told him that he wasn't going anywhere. There was something that he wasn't telling his companion in a near headlock. If he asked, Corey wouldn't keep his restrains on. This basically meant for Curtis, he was going to drag him by force. "Sure," Curtis uttered in defeat.

Laughter bounced throughout his eardrums, making Curtis forget for a second of his whereabouts.

"You see!" He shouted. "That wasn't so hard! Today already seems like a bright new day." Despite his now lighthearted mood, his arm still weighed a ton.

"Watch your restraints." Curtis choked. Somehow startled at his own power, he lifted his arm away from the slouched man. "I hope I didn't hurt you. I don't even know my own strength sometimes." He laughed. Curtis began to walk ahead, flexing his sore upper torso. The bustling man didn't take long to catch up.