I didn't even want the job. At all. But, going through interviews is good practice, so I can land the job I  really want. That's what they said, anyway. My friends. Probably former, now. They also suggested, to get the best practice, I should try to interview with people who terrify me. If I could get through an interview like that, a normal interview would be easy, they said. So, fool that I am, I applied at the place with the scariest people I know—Enforcers. Not like they'd hire me, anyway. I'm not qualified. Plus, I'm... Well, let's just say they really wouldn't want me. It was all about practice.

Then they chose me.

Now, I jus—

"Nose to the notepad again, eh, newbie?" Bergin thumped his hand on the desk loudly.

Vania swiftly shut her notebook, trying to hide her startlement with a smile; "Yes. It's just—"

Bergin snatched at the notepad, which quickly was yanked from his fingertips and disappeared under the desk; "Getting early information on a case I haven't heard about yet?"

"No, sir." Vania looked away from her work partner's intense stare.

"Good. You've only been here two weeks. You aren't ready to solo any cases." He sat on the desk and leaned over her. "You should train more in the perceptions and instincts courses. I wasn't even masking my approach, and I still startled you!"

She opened her mouth to reply, felt the eyes of the entire room, and closed her mouth, looking toward their approaching captain instead. She stood quickly.

Bergin turned, eyes widening, then quickly slid off the desk; "Sir."

"Did I overhear you criticizing our prestigious leader's newest recruit?" The tall, swarthy a'marlon loomed over Bergin with a frown.

"O-only suggesting she train more, Captain," Bergin assured him. "I wasn't questioning the leader's choice."

Their superior smiled as he straightened and surveyed the room; "Good. Our leader chose her; that means she's the one we need. Does anyone question that?"

Everyone in the room looked down, mumbling, "No," under their breaths.

"Good." His dual-colored eyes locked on Vania's bowed head. "Recruit Nahalora." Vania's head snapped up. "Your partner is correct if he advises more training. He has worked here—survived this job—your job—for ten years. Listen to him."

"Y-yes, sir," Vania quickly ducked her head again. Ten years? He's only five years older than I am! She stared at the light reflecting off the toes of her boots.

"Now, you two go take the report of the witness in the observation room. It's your new case."

As they quickly left the room, the captain continued giving out orders to the other Enforcers. Just a few paces down the hallway, and they were at the observation room door.

Hand resting on the knob, Bergin grinned at her; "It's almost midnight on a Friday. Wanna bet whether this case is a mugging or a rape?"

Vania made a face; "No. That's horrible. Let's just talk to the witness and find out what happened."

He sighed and mumbled, "You're altogether no fun. Brevik used to at least pretend to banter with me." He pushed open the door and strode to the table, sitting down opposite the waiting witness.

Vania quietly shut the door behind her and stood at the corner of the table.

"All right, sir, we're here to get your statement. Tell us your name and what happened." Bergin produced a small pad from his pocket and pulled the ink jar and pen from the edge of the table to sit beside his notebook.

"Why is my name important? I'm not the criminal here! I was mugged by some stupid Marked tydring, that's what happened!"

"Okay," Bergin wrote some notes down. "Did you get a good look at this tydring? Male? Female?"

The witness scoffed loudly; "Please. You think some silly female could mug me?"

"Standard procedure, sir....what did you say your name was?" Vania asked, leaning slightly over the table toward him.

"I didn't," he snapped. He looked her up and down, scowl melting into a gracious smile; "But, milady, surely if you were to ask it of me, I could hardly object." He held out a hand to her. "I apologize for ignoring you; you stood so silently in your uniform, I barely even noticed you. I am Vay'yer, milady. Vay'yer Du l'Tagne. My friends call me Yer. You could call me yours, and I would happily acknowledge it."

"Um." Vania quickly pulled her hand back.

Bergin cleared his throat loudly and shot her an annoyed look; "If you're finished flirting with our witness, Vania...?"

"I—I'm not—"

"Vania? What a lovely name, madam. Tell me, when do you finish here? I would be happy to escort you home...you know how dangerous the streets are at night, I'm sure..."

"Yes, back to the issue at hand. How dangerous the streets are," Bergin frowned at Vania again and returned to looking at the man across the table. "M'lord Du l'Tagne, you were giving us an account of what happened...?"

"Yes," Vay'yer looked back at Bergin. "I was walking home and the fellow jumped out at me from an alleyway. He dragged me off the street, into the alley, hit me, grabbed my purse, and ran."

"Okay. Can you give me any description of the tydring?" Bergin asked.

At the same time, Vania frowned and asked, "Hit you where?"

"Right here, milady," Vay'yer looked up at her, tracing his finger around his left eye; his skin was lightly discolored where he indicated. "Never fear, madam, I am well enough, but vagrants like that need to be removed from the streets. Though, of course, if you wished to help me heal faster, I could suggest some things..."

Bergin cleared his throat loudly again; "Description?"

"Description?" Vay'yer laughed. "I can tell you the fellow's name! I recognized him—it was Derry Korallov. I recognized him by his blue horns. I think he's the only tydring with that particular Mark in the city."

"Derry Korallov," Bergin mumbled as he wrote. "Blue horns..."

"Any other descriptions?" Vania asked. "What color was his hair? How tall was he? What was he wearing...?"

"Why would you need those, my dear? I just told you who it was. Now go bundle him off to the block where he belongs and return my purse to me!"

"Just trying to be thorough, sir," Vania replied, biting her tongue hard. "After all, it is dark this time of night. Double new moons tonight, and alleys don't have streetlights. I wonder how you could see well enough to identify him, but can't describe him otherwise?"

"Vania, don't be difficult. The blue horns are the identifiers, clearly. He wouldn't've needed to see the guy's face."

"All right." Vania frowned again, eyes tracing the circle of light pink around Vay'yer's eye. "Tydring are especially susceptible to magic, sir. And you are clearly a wizard—you have a wizard's name. Why didn't you defend yourself magically? He would never have been able to steal your purse from you if you'd used magic."

"Don't blame the victim, Vania. He's not at fault for being mugged." Bergin didn't even look up from his writing.

"Have you ever used magic, my dear?" He smiled at her condescendingly. "Vania doesn't sound like a wizard's name, so I bet not."

"Maybe you misheard my partner," Vania countered. "Maybe my name is Van'nia."

Vay'yer's eyes travelled her length again; "I doubt it. It does sound pretty that way, though. Maybe you should take up studying magic, so you can pass the wizardry tests and change your name. If you have studied and used magic, you know pain is very distracting. He hit me, which I already said. Hard to focus on gathering the magical energies for a spell when your mind is focusing on the pain."

"I thought that's why you trained," Vania muttered.

"Vania," Bergin snapped. He closed his notebook and stood. "Thank you, m'lord Du l'Tagne. We shall look into this event. If we manage to recover your stolen belongings, we will return them to you."

"Oh, good," Vay'yer also stood. "I did have a large amount of gold in that purse. Close to one thousand gold pieces. I do want that back. Of course, if he's already spent it, I will just have the judge settle things, after you bring him in."

"One thousand?" Vania's eyebrows went up. "That would be a very heavy purse, sir."

"Don't think I could handle it?" He smiled at her. "I assure you, milady, I am stronger than I look." He walked out the door as Bergin held it open.

Bergin pushed it shut again and eyed Vania; "That was embarrassing. Why were you flirting with him so much? If you want to pick up lords, go find a tavern on your day off!"

"I wasn't flirting with him," Vania snapped. "I was trying to get details of the case. He kept trying to flirt with me. Glad you could tell the difference." She yanked the door open and stalked out.

Pausing by her desk to grab her cloak dangling on the back of her chair, she looked at her work partner; "Did you write down where this crime took place? I don't recall what he said about location. We should go see it."

"He only said an alley. But we don't need to track down some random alleyway—we have the name of the instigator. We just need to go get him." Bergin swirled his own cloak around his shoulders and strode out onto the street.

Vania frowned at the darkness of the streets; the streetlights made dim circles of sanctuary against the night, but most of the street had been devoured by the moonless dark.

"Bergin. Where are you going?"

He stopped and looked at her; "To get that Derry fellow."

"He doesn't live in the same quarter as his supposed victim," Vania pointed out. "If he did, he wouldn't be accused of stealing—at least not by a lord. Maybe by the common folk. But the accusation would have to do with mispaid wages and extra fees and taxes, not mugging."

Bergin frowned; "All right. You made your point. If you know so much, you lead the way." He gestured to the dark street.

She smiled and walked down the dark street in the opposite direction from the way her partner had chosen. He followed after a backward glance toward the brighter, better-lit portions of the city, still frowning.

The shadows deepened as they traversed further from the safety of the Enforcers' station and deeper into the slums.