First Job

Seated in a remote location away from the latrine and the kitchen, a silence I more than welcome enveloped us. Our seats were relatively prime, giving us a perfect vantage of the entire restaurant. I could see who entered and who left with excessive ease, as well as those who entered the kitchen.

Nevertheless, despite our exceptional seats, the number of people in this restaurant was odd, as there were none. No one was here despite us. Could it be the food? Or are we just early?

"A bottle of wine, Yalva, and where are your staff?" Eryth asked, surveying the empty restaurant, noting that not even the staff was there.

"There's still two hours before we open. I had thought you were the inspector when you stepped in. Our chefs are still prepping for the night." Said the maître d', lifting his lips, "But never you mind about time. I owe your father my life. And then some. I'll bring wine; you two sit and talk. I'll be back."

Glancing around the somewhat extravagant restaurant that made me feel a little out of place, I placed my hands beneath the tablecloth, a little afraid to touch anything. It had all looked so clean. And my god, I've not had a decent shower since earth.

"Before the wine comes, shall we get the contract out of the way." Eryth mentioned reaching into his vest and pulling out a pen and a strange piece of paper with scarlet-covered runes scattered around the border.

My eyes narrowed as the runes glowed a dim color of blood, but the moment Eryth began to write, that dim red flared to life, releasing a faint hum. Bringing about the sounds of ink dancing along the document. In but a matter of seconds, Eryth was done.

He handed it to me, and my jaw dropped. " The hell is this? With this contract, why don't I just call you master? A pox on it. I'm not signing this. I'm not your bloody slave," I snapped, getting a little worked up. "Look here! At this clause! I, Izavith Snow, agree to any and all house visits by Eryth Lysander. Izavith Snow must attend a meet formulated by Eryth Lysander upon being noticed." pressing my fingers down over the table, I frown and snorted," I'm not signing this. The job might grant me freedom, but you're trying to steal that freedom."

Eryth was smiling, his dimple reflecting his utter delight. "You know contracts?"

My father could very well be the damn antichrist, based on all the stories he's told me. He was a ruthless bully that did everything in his power to steal my pastries—using every tool in the book, including the law. That bastard even went as far as to frame me.

Five years old and in a police station for driving under the influence of alcohol. That was the worst day of my life; I almost went to jail.

All for what? A goddamn blueberry muffin? I was in the holding cell for nine hours! Nine Hours! as the New York City police on my father's payroll refused to give me anything but the worst treatment. That was hell! But I learned my lesson. Whether I'm in the USA or outside, I memorized every damn law and brushed up on all various types of contracts. Father wasn't going to steal away my muffin again. Still can't believe I fell for such a stupid trick. I wasn't even driving, and I hadn't had my first drop of liquor till I was six!

"You can say that," I said, puckering my shoulders a little high. I was a bit proud of what I did. It wasn't every day I needed to use my contract skills.

"Fine, then how about this?" He said, pulling out another sheet of paper from his vest, writing only a few bits of words.

'I, Izavith Snow, promise to consider all forms of request from Eryth Lysander upon receiving the position of Inquisitor.'

"Is that it?" I asked, peeking up at his nodding expression. "What about the loyalty or secrets?"

"Loyalty through a contract isn't worth a horse's ass. You know, contracts Izavith. Restricting you will only hurt you and me. So I'll give you the job, and all I ask is that you listen from time to time." He said, tapping his finger in rhythm against the table. "What do you say?"

Snatching the pen from his palm, I signed my name at the bottom, and like magic, my eyes turned wide as the document withered to ash upon completion. The heat hadn't even seeped into my fingers, yet the paper was ash! How?

Suddenly the pill of ash swirled to life, twisting like a serpent up my fingers and onto my skin, vanishing with ease.

[Ding]

[Contract Accepted]

"Congrats. Inquisitor Snow."

[Ding]

[Title acquired: Inquisitor]

[Ability: ???]

"Good. Very good?'

"And what is good, my lady?" Yalva asked, gripping two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. He plated the tale, popping the cork. "Don't tell me. You accepted the position."

"Yup."

"Girl, you've only lived so long; why end your life so early by hunting monsters?" Rasped the maître d' in sheer disapproval, "and you," he added, turning to Eryth, "Are you sure of this? The girl is an outsider. The family will not approve."

"Piss on their approval, " said Eryth pursing his lips into a sneer. "They don't even need to know, as far as I'm concerned."

Old Yalva smiled and stroked his well-groomed beard. "You've got your father's balls." He turned to me. " But you. I've got a mission for you. In fact. Let's call it a test."

"A test? Are you my teacher now?" I mused, a little taken back by his disproval. Is being an inquisitor so hard?

"Hear me out first. I'm only looking out for you. And if you complete my test, the food I'll reward you with might assist your cultivation. I've seen hundreds of mortals like yourself who would kill to have the fortune on their side to dine in my restaurant."

I glanced at Eryth, who had a thin smile, his expression motionless. I pulled my gaze back to Yalva and spoke carefully. "Let's hear the problem first before I commit to anything."

He smiled, pulled up a chair, and spoke, "For the past two months, many of my staff have begun to notice a scratching sound a little past our cellars that stretch into the sewers. Usually, this wouldn't be an issue, but a week ago, some manner of beast forced its way inside my cellar, smashing up various wines. I lost quite a fortune."

"And you waited a week to investigate? Why?" I probed, sensing something off. If I lost a fortune, that'd be my top priority.

"Quite the investigator you are," Yalva mentioned chuckling as he answered. " While I did lose a small fortune compared to normal people, a single meal here makes up for all I lost and then some. It's more of an inconvenience I planned on dealing with personally, but since you're here, I'll toss it off to you."

"Eryth? What do you think?" I asked, seeing no reason not to. But he only smiled. I was still new to monster hunting. I didn't even have a bestiary. It was risky. But…

[Ding]

[Mission Acquired: Investigate the Catacombs]

[Reward: 100 Ether Points.]

Catacombs? That's strange. Yalva said sewers. Why does it say catacombs instead? Is he lying? A trap, perhaps.

"And what type of monsters should I be looking for?" I asked, but the old man shrugged.

"It's been a week, my child. I don't even remember what I ate today. But I do remember the beast having blueish fur. It was brittle."

So a mammal of sorts. That narrows the line. "Can you show me to your cellar? Maybe it left scratch marks or other indicators?"

"My word,' whispered Yalva, " I might just be wrong about you. Then again, should your head fall, it won't matter."