5 False Scents

"But we can't possibly paste bills around advertising for magic users can we?" I chuckled at my own joke.

Iria had a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Thank you, Nei. That is exactly what we're going to do,"

***

"....This message is from the throne of the king of Valencia! Anyone who alterates it or passes untrue versions of with will have their houses burnt over their heads! Beware! Long live the King, long live Valencia!"

"Long live the King, long live Valencia," the commoners responded to the herald without enthusiasm and dispersed. It was the same as the news that came from the king's throne every month.

A young lady in the crowd, dressed in a uniform of black and yellow, assessed the situation. Her purple eyes roved to the noticeboard nailed to the market leader's stall. She walked up to it, her sword hanging losely by her side, her purple hair swooshing back and forth as the breeze blew it.

"Good day, officer," the market head was jittery, "umm..any problem?"

Officer Moran ingnored him and looked at a particular notice on the board.

"Who posted this and when?" She asked sharply. The market head came over to look at the notice.

"I have no idea, officer. Anyone comes round to paste anything--"

"Can you ask around?" she tore the sheet from the board.

"Officer--"

"I will send a junior officer along to get your findings," Moran said sternly and strolled away from the stall, poster in hand. What nerve! Could it be true, she thought.

***

"You sent for me?" A junior officer saluted the woman who was bent over a map on the table.

"You speak the local dialect, right?" Was the reply.

"Yes, officer," the boy wondered where all this was heading. When he had first been told that senior officer Moran was looking for him, he had been so frightened he couldn't breathe. Now he was wondering how she knew that he, who had only joined the Investigation Bureau Office last week, could speak the native dialect.

"Can you tell me what 'safrohi' means?"

"Huh?" Trevor looked up at her, stunned.

"You heard me," Moran was starring at him scrutinizingly now.

"Yes! Yes, senior officer. I know what it means,"

"What then?" Moran snapped impatiently.

"It means... mage...or...magic users,"

Comprehension dawned on Moran's face. She stood straight and marched out of her office.

"Officers! Come in for briefing immediately!"

The six officers directly under her command stood at attention and filed solemnly into the office.

"There is going to be a meeting of several magic users tonight," Moran said, looking at each of her officers in the eye. "As you all know, the king of Valencia passed the law twelve years ago that anyone remotely associated with a magic users must be arrested and executed. You know what we have to do," she concluded.

"Yes senior officer!" all six said in unison.

"Uhh.. senior officer, can I come along?" murmured a quiet voice. It was Trevor.

"Fine," Moran said and turned to the others, "I will give the signal when its time. Arrive on time so we can track their converging spot and arrest them,"

"Yes, senior officer!"

.....

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