Shackled Exalted

Emil

I should have expected this.

The note attached to the carrier pigeon was a request for audience. As the capital city of the Rosales province and home to a number of noble families and wealthy business owners, Isarelle had a Steiger branch office dedicated to monitoring the elites' activities.

Emil sighed, cursing his naivety.

Now where is this office?

He scoured his mind, trying to recall the locations of the various Steiger offices in Ardair. Those details should have been committed to his memory during his training, but frankly, he never thought he'd survive Steiger's brutal regiments. Everyday he was either in pain or high off his mind on pain killers. Not exactly a suitable environment for studying.

While struggling through his memories, he absent-mindedly glanced down on the note in his hand. He hadn't noticed it on the first read, but there was a smaller set of instructions written below the initial message. He squinted.

"It's the plain, old building in the Administrative District. You'll know once you see it."

***

The gloomy skies had darkened noticeably once Emil stepped out of the tavern in a fresh set of clothes. It was late into the evening. The festival atmosphere of the day was nowhere to be found, but unlike the nights of Azure City or the slums of Lower Dannan, the mood wasn't oppressive and ominous. Instead, there was a subtle anticipation draping over the city as if Isarelle's residents were collectively holding their breaths.

A static voice suddenly buzzed in the air. Emil nearly jumped, startled by the unexpected noise.

"Ladies and gentlemen, it is currently five hours till midnight. The rain is expected to arrive in two hours. Please take care of all outdoor activities within the allocated time. Increased water levels may lead to small, localized flooding. As a precaution, please stay away from the canals. Thank you for your attention."

I still can't get used to that.

He shook his head as he gazed at the tall building towering in the distance from the Administrative . The locals called it the Broadcast Tower and it was the source of the public message earlier.

Isarelle was a city of many quirks. Aside from the canal running through the length of the city, it also had a system to broadcast public messages to all residents over the air. The typical broadcast included announcements about general affairs, changes in weathers, and advertisements about upcoming shows occurring in the Arts District. Occasionally, there would be even stories told over air as a form of entertainment.

Emil hasn't sure about the exact details behind the broadcast system's mechanisms, but apparently it was a mechanical invention powered by the Gift of an Exalted. That likely explained why the technology hadn't spread across Ardair yet—it required a particular set of skills and personnel to implement.

The broadcast stirred the residents into action. The imminent rain encouraged everyone to be brisk with their remaining daytime activities. Emil ducked out of the way of a lady running down the road. She flashed him a polite smile as if apologizing for her urgency. He nodded back, amused at the difference in culture between cities. In Lower Dannan, this sort of interaction would simply never occur.

He crossed the road to the enter the Administrative District. The architecture of the buildings abruptly changed. The vivid patterned bricks that laid the walls of the Arts District's theaters turned into whole shades of white and gray stone. Winding, meandering roads became straight and organized. Statues and lanterns morphed into fountains and streetlamps. The Arts District was an experience. The Administrative District was practical.

Emil continued to walk along the cobblestone roads. The vague instruction on the note was on his mind as he kept an eye out for a building that matched the description.

A plain, old building that I'll recognize? That's—

He stopped, finding himself before a gray monochromatic structure. The name "Bank of Ardair" was engraved above the entrance.

—incredibly accurate, I guess.

***

The Bank of Ardair was a crown organization that sometimes served as a front for Steiger operations. Not all Bank of Ardair buildings were Steiger outposts, but enough of them were that it was probably safe to enter one if someone needed to reach a Steiger agent.

After showing his insignia to a receptionist, Emil was led to the upper levels of the building. Eventually, he was brought to an office. The décor of the hallway on this floor was remarkably similar to the witch's lair in Upper Dannan.

There's no way she's here, right?

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

Hortensia was possibly the busiest person in the kingdom. It didn't make sense for her to meet him in Isarelle after she had deliberately sent him out of Azure City just a few days ago. Likely, the person who summoned him was someone new.

Emil announced his presence before pushing the door open. The smell of fragrant oak suddenly tickled his nose as he was greeted by a carpeted room surrounded by neatly arranged shelves. The scent of the space was fresh and light—unlike the bitter smoke that permanently permeated Hortensia's office. Emil would have found it to be a welcoming place, if not for the other person in the room.

"So you finally decided to show up."

A bespectacled man was seated at his desk. His hands folded, resting on the wooden surface in a businesslike manner. His back was straight, posture immaculate. His hair neatly trimmed and combed over.

A hostile scowl etched across his face.

"Close the door," he said with a commanding tone. Emil didn't miss the contempt in his voice. Still, he did as he was told. The man here was likely the in charge of Steiger's operations in Isarelle.

"My name is Graf. I'm the regional commanding officer for Rosales."

"Emil."

Graf narrowed his eyes at Emil's casual introduction.

"Not one for respecting authority, are you? I see that the rumors were correct," Graf stated with visible ire, "I honestly don't understand why Director Hortensia insists on keeping you on a loose leash. It is my opinion that disobedient hounds need to be disciplined regardless if they produce results."

What the hell is up with this guy?

Emil raised an eye, not understanding why the man was so hostile. This was their first meeting. Even if rumors about his belligerence towards the witch had spread throughout the organization, this level of aggression was excessive. Sure, there were those in Steiger who were unwaveringly loyal to Hortensia and might have perceived his lack of respect as a slight.

But this felt personal.

"So? What do you want? I'm sure you're not so petty to summon me here just air out your grievances about me," Emil retorted, not caring about manners. There was no need to be cordial with someone who openly disliked him.

Graf grunted with disdain. "You're right, I am a busy man," he said, pushing forward a set of documents on the table, "As you might already know, the Aurous Festival is scheduled to start here in Isarelle in three days. There will be a lot of tourists entering the city. I want you to help patrol and maintain order. Keep an eye out for suspicious activities. Vigil has been quiet since their raid on the Academy, but an event of this calibre might be what they're waiting for."

Emil blinked. He summoned me here to assign me work? He found himself clenching his teeth at the audacity of this man.

"I'm afraid not. I'm supposed to be off-duty. The director herself personally stated that I'm on vacation."

Graf burst into laughter. Ridicule and mockery rang in the air with every echo of his condescending guffaw. The man was practically in tears. Emil frowned at the insulting display.

"I'm leaving," he said, turning towards the door. He had too much self-respect than to stand there and be laughed at.

"You can't be this naïve," Graf suddenly said, prompting Emil to stop, "Did you really think the director sent you here to play? How did you survive being a Steiger Cleaner till now with this level of ignorance?"

"I like to think the director would honor her word," Emil replied. Graf let out a derisive snort before reaching into his drawer. He was holding a missive. The Steiger insignia was marked on top of the sheet, indicating it as an official document.

"Nothing means anything unless it's written on paper," he stated condescendingly, sending the missive forward for Emil to read.

Request for Service

Cleaner Emil will be temporarily assigned to Isarelle Steiger branch office for the duration of the Aurous Festival. His assignment will begin two days prior to the festival until the festival's conclusion. Scope of duties include maintaining order, scouting for abnormalities, and responding in case of a crisis.

Message for Emil:

Emil, I hope you've enjoyed your first few days in Isarelle. All work, no play, however, tends to dull the human spirit. As such, I'll be assigning you to Graf to keep you sharp.

It's nothing difficult. Just help Graf for a few days.

Then during the festival, you can just keep your eyes and ears open when you're roaming the streets with your friends. Not hard, right? If nothing happens, it'll just be like another relaxing outing.

Emil fought the urge to smash Graf's desk into pieces. He couldn't believe the witch had played him again. He should have known that she had ulterior motives for sending him here.

Relaxing outing, my ass. There's nothing relaxing being on full alert.

A part of him that wanted to activate Blaze and set this office aflame. He was very close to snapping—if only to wipe off the smug grin plastered across Graf's detestable face.

"And there you have it. Now I can see if you truly live up to your reputation as a competent Cleaner."

"Fuck off. You think I care about my reputation within this wretched organization?" Emil spat.

Graf leaned back into his chair, arms folded as if he had been vindicated. "So the mask finally comes off. At the end of the day, you're just a rabid dog that barks loud."

Emil had enough. He stomped forward—his cerulean eyes glowed with an intense hue, indicative of the power bellowing within his body. He leaned in, his head mere inches from Graf. Mana cackled in the short space between them as he glared at the man in contempt.

Graf was no longer smiling. The regional leader of Steiger stared back at him, partly in disbelief, partly furious that a subordinate dared to show defiance.

"What's your problem with me? Spit it out. Stop hiding behind thinly veiled attacks," Emil growled. He definitely crossed several lines for showing violence against a superior, but he didn't care. "Say it to my face. Like a man."

Graf's eyes went cold. And so, he obliged without holding back.

"You're arrogant. You're belligerent. Your entire existence was built on the director's mercy. She brought you back from the brink of death. She turned you into an Exalted. She gave you value and opened the path for you to become someone special. And yet, you act as if she's the villain in your pitiful life."

The ambient temperature suddenly rose.

"She turned me into a monster! She tortured me under the guise of training! You speak as if she's my savior, but in reality, I'm her slave!"

Emil didn't realize it, but he had inadvertently activated Blaze. Flames sprouted from his back like monstrous tendrils as his emotions ran rampant.

"You prattle like a spoiled child," Graf said, unwavering despite the threat of Blaze, "Now it makes sense why you chose to ignore my summons."

The strange statement caught Emil off guard.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm here, am I not?"

"You were late. This is the second time I've asked you to come to my office."

He must have looked baffled since Graf immediately continued.

"I sent you a Courier yesterday. You were supposed to receive summons."

Emil shook his head. The flames on his back receded as fury subsided to confusion. "The carrier pigeon today was the first time I received any communications since my arrival at Isarelle. I swear on it."

Graf was suddenly horrified. Emil didn't miss the implications as he pieced together the cause of their misunderstanding.

A Steiger agent who should made contact with him was missing.