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“What about them?” the one who sat turned around to face the messenger. “I was told to inform all the gang leaders that The Red Seals have been exterminated. Apparently, on a weekly check – their hideout was found destroyed with not a single soul left alive,” the face red from exhaustion, the message ended. *Bang,* a gunshot echoed. “Please no more killing, refurnishing cost a lot,” the bartender spoke out in anguish.

“Sorry about that,” Karlson stood. The man who ran inside wasn’t killed – rather, the bullet went pass so close that he ran away. The death of a messenger had no merit, especially if he came from the higher-ups.

“Staxius Haggard exterminated the Red Seal?” Jason figured an intelligent guess. “I presume,” he sat back down and continued to drink.

“Are you sure taking credit for his actions isn’t the best thing? Do you really wish for that man to enter the undergrounds,” the tone felt scared. “-I’m saying this out of concern. Imagine a boy that powerful in dealing with people that are way out his reach. A single word can suffice to sent him off track, and the strength he wields can be used to wipe out factions. He did just end that gang of two-hundred members all alone,” the hands worked on cleaning glasses whilst the mouth speculated about things to come.

“No need to worry, I’ll just say that he works under me. That should calm down the leaders, we’ve got better things to worry about. People who are dead should remain dead and not spoken of,” he paused and checked behind – empty without a soul. “Right, let’s get to business,” the tattoed man whispered, secrecy became a priority.

“Sure,” Jason leaned closer. “We’ve got a plane ready for exporting God’s ale, it’s set to leave in two hours,” Karlson paused and looked around again, “-has the merchandise been loaded to capacity?”

.....

“Yes, all is ready,” Jason stood straight, “-the nobleman who owns the private mini-airfield has given the greenlight. Apparently, for the upcoming days – guards have lowered their patrol. More emphasis is being put on Aceline’s security and protection,” he finished both in speech and chores.

“Here,” a bag of coins got placed on the counter, “-I appreciate your help with setting up all the transactions. I can’t help but think what our thriving little business would have become if Jason the Strategist hadn’t joined our gang,” he kicked back and had another shot.

“Please don’t use that archaic nickname – tis rather embarrassing,” the bar remained quiet – on said night, the illicit drink would be shipped out to the main continent. On the outskirts of Vlaiwia were a wealthy no-named noble lived.

“A few turns here and we are close to the hotel,” the driver spoke, the voice changed from cautious to friendly. Staxius used Dark-Arts to influence his emotions – no good information came out. A friend was made in the process to which he counted as a success. Someone familiar with a foreign land could be more useful that one could think.

“Lady Aceline, the show is set in seven days. The days before will be dedicated to advertisements, interviews, meetings with respectable people and a small audience with the Imperial Prince,” Scott gave a short summary – she took it with a grain of salt for the schedule was memorized by heart.

“Here we are,” the car stopped. Staxius stepped out into an unknown world. The place in which they stayed could not be described, buildings that reached the heavens were scattered all around. The smaller shops were made beautifully, the pavements clean and devoid of trash. The people walked with a smile, kids ran around playfully, teens used phones and had earphones. Some carried musical instruments, other sports equipment. They stayed in the middle of the residential district – one made especially for people of wealth and fame.

Many cars as luxurious as it could get were frequent – inside which many of the singers and actors sat. One who he saw whilst reading the magazines on the plane. ‘This is the land of people with renown and fame. A place that I’d never want to get involved with – imagine having people aimlessly run to take my photograph and ask for autographs.’ As he thought hypothetically, the same thing happened to Aceline, fans recognized her and ran for an autograph.

‘Not on my watch,’ Staxius appeared suddenly. Aceline’s heart raced at the thought of dealing with so many people. Scott stood right beside her, “Staxius, make sure none can reach her,” he whispered.

“On it,” the reply firm. As compared to other stars, the crowd wasn’t that big but it sure had its fair share of intensity. A quick count revealed about twenty people of which teenagers were most common. “Miss Aceline, can I have a picture,” they yelled. “Can I have an autograph,” some others asked.

The stairway leading into the hotel came in view, Staxius stopped and turned around. “What are you doing,” Scott asked. With disgust in his eyes, Staxius took Aceline by hand and pulled her out of the crowd. “What are you doing,” she asked, it grew confusing. “Alright everyone,” Staxius spoke, the fans stopped for the handsome looking man caught their attention.

“If it’s a picture you want, please come in order – we’ll all take one; a group picture. Something everyone can cherish – the autographs I’m afraid won’t be possible for she just arrived and is quite tired. “Awesome,” they cheered. One by one, the energy died down – they all stood with Aceline in the middle. She struck a pose that reminded him of Avon, her hands pulled out the peace sign. “Everyone, say cheese,” big smiles everywhere, they cheered and a picture was taken; the moment forever immortalized.

“Thanks for being such good sports, Staxius spoke and handed over the expensive looking camera to the owner. “Thanks for allowing us such a privilege,” the fans shook her hands and rushed over to Staxius who smiled. “Alright, calm down,” they began to ask questions, it felt as if he was the star here. “Look at him go,” Scott mumbled, “-never would I have thought of taking a group picture. Quite an effective bodyguard we’ve hired,” he smiled – the money paid proved to be worth the cost.

“Yes, I feel like having a friend like that around would only bring good things. Though I don’t think he wants to have anything to do with me. The man is married after all, I so wish I could meet the wife,” exhausted Aceline replied. Scott checked into the hotel.

“Thanks for the picture,” the crowd came out of a shop which dealt in the ways of photography. He held two frames: one with Aceline and her fans and one with him and the same people. The latter proved to be a better picture for everyone pulled out silly faces with Staxius joining the mix – a bundle of joy.

“No thank you, Staxius,” the crowd smile and shook hands, “it was a pleasure meeting you all,” Staxius smiled and everyone left to their own devices.

‘If these are the kind of people who live in Vlaiwia – then my job is made far easy. I do wonder what Scott warned me about, I used Dark-Art on every single soul that approached her today; most were pure-hearted teenagers.’ Without much thought, he dashed into the hotel. “Sorry for the delay,” a voice came from inside the elevator.

“AHH,” Aceline screamed, Scott threw a punch out of reflex. “Nice form,” Staxius complimented the manager to which he sighed, “please don’t scare us like that,” the man’s heartbeat went through the roof.

*Ding,* it reached the fiftieth floor, it opened to a hall with red-carpet and elegant wallpaper design. It had a monarchic feel to it as if they were from the royal family. The corridor carried a fair bit before an enormous window showcased how amazing the capital was. As for rooms, only two were available, one larger than the other. “Here,” Scott threw a card, “the room opposite will be ours, whilst this one,” *beep,* the larger one opened, “-will be the lady’s room.” The trio opened to be awestruck, from a golden chandelier to breathtaking interior design, Aceline’s face blushed. She blushed by how beautiful a room could be, “-that’s the perks of being a famous singer,” Staxius mumbled whilst watching every corner.

Bags were already delivered inside the rooms, “I do wonder who in the right mind would offer to pay such a thing,” Staxius sat on a piano stool. The instrument was of a white and gold color, “-this thing is bloody beautiful,” the hand ran across the keys. The main reason for that seat was for the landscape behind, it was closest to the window – low and large ones.

“I bet this place looks even better at night,” Scott walked over with two cups of water. “Thanks,” he leaned on the instrument; both drank and admired the outside.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit rude to leave me out of the conversation,” Aceline spoke – they forgot she was present. “I’m deeply sorry my lady,” Scott apologized profusely, to which she jokingly teased.

“Can you play the piano?” she asked whilst sitting on a chair Scott brought over. “I don’t think I’ve ever tried playing any instruments – let alone listening to music before. I never really had the time,” the reply almost pitiful; Scott sat down next to him. “Well, here’s what you missed for god knows how many years,” the first note played. He felt at ease, the manager played the instrument as if an extension of the body, Aceline sang alone; Staxius apricated the song.

*Claps,* the song ended, he smiled and complimented both. “Nicely played Scott, and you too Aceline; that was beautiful. Though my remarks when it comes to music is rather lacking.”

“I’ll go get some more water,” Scott stood. “Why don’t you try playing?” Aceline wanted to see the always emotionless faced Staxius play. “Here’s the water,” Scott came back just as Staxius tried to play.

It began off bad and disharmonious, ‘that’s expected for a beginner,’ the cup got handed to the lady. “I see,” Staxius spoke, the rhythm slowed down, “it’s not that hard,” simple melodies began to play. “When it comes down to it, a song is made of notes and chores If I assume correctly,” a piece of knowledge acquired in one of the many books read. “Which means that, just like a sentence, I can probably use said notes to spell out words that make no sense in our vocabulary,” the fingers moved rapidly, “but make sense to our ears,” he began to play as if a long-time musician. They both watched, the cup of water nearly dropped, the last note played.

“Pretty fun,” he turned around and admired the sky. “Are you sure you haven’t played music in thy entire life?” Scott asked, the man impressed by how quickly it went from a beginner to someone who could play with ease.

“Yes, but there’s nothing that impressive about it. I’ve spent most of my time learning and researching. I once wanted to be a sorcerer, to that end I learned anything and everything. It didn’t suffice. In the end, I had to sacrifice more than I would have wanted,” the tone sad, it referred to not raising Eira. “Eventually, I learned that any skill could be mastered. Nothing is out of the picture – only a good foundation is needed. One that could act as a springboard, the better the base, the stronger the skill,” he paused and stared at Scott, “-technique is good and all but the feel of the note is something that takes years to learn. I might look impressive, but the sound produced is monotonous. If we were to play the same thing, I can say without restraint that I’d fail in comparison.”