Seize Every Minute and Every Second [Marschal Leigh]

“Letter for Marschal Leigh Abadeer?!” a man’s voice called out, a hand in the air being seen waving a slightly yellowed envelope about.

Frowning, Marschal stood to his feet and walked over to the man that was looking around for someone with the name of “Marschal.” The man snatched the letter out of the delivery boy’s hand and snarled a little, causing the other man to swallow a lump down his throat and run off to finish his job. Using one of his sharp claws, Marschal tore open the letter and pulled out its contents, unfolding the slip of paper inside of it. His golden optics raked over the letter in such a quick manner that it was like he had not read what was written on the piece of paper. In a matter of seconds, the paper was folded back to its original size when he had received it and stuffed into the back pocket of his jeans. After which, the young male grabbed his jacket and began heading out of Silver Moon Inn and into the streets of Rose Garden.

What seemed like only minutes that had passed by were truly hours by the time Marschal had reached the train station and boarded one of the trains. For some ungodly reason, Rose Garden had been extremely busy at eight in the morning and it angered Marschal just slightly. The train lurched forward and began traveling slowly down the tracks as the magus found a seat and settled down into it. He crossed his legs over one another and rested his head against the heel of his left hand, staring out the window as they moved along. While he was one to get motion sickness on a boat, riding trains and even cars did not have that strange feeling that often overcame him on ships. It was a nice feeling to be able to sit down on a train or a bus and not have to worry about throwing up on the person next to him. Marschal remained silent and lost in his thoughts as the train traveled down its path, heading straight into Hargeon Town as his destination.

Another few hours had passed by before the train had pulled into the Hargeon Train Station and came to a lurching halt. Everyone crowded into the aisles on their feet and began unboarding at an extremely slow pace, which annoyed Marschal even more. However, he would breathe in deeply and simply wait out the long line of people as they all struggled to get off and into the station. Before long, Marschal was standing on the platform and pushing through people as he made his way out of the station and into the streets. His journey would first begin looking through Hargeon for the man’s wife having possibly dropped the necklace somewhere on the streets. Yet, a small part of him knew that he would not find the necklace all willy-nilly on the streets like that, as someone likely would have found it by then. If someone had found it, they likely would have kept it or if it was a valuable enough necklace, they would have pawned it off or sold it.

Looking through Hargeon Town was the hardest part of the mission, as the town was so vast and large, it could be mistaken for a city. It was named accordingly though and Hargeon was nothing more than a town that was larger than the average size of one. So, his journey would begin at the front of the train station, looking through every nook and cranny before he moved onto the next building. This would continue on for a few hours as Marschal sniffed and looked around for any sign of a lost necklace out on the streets. Time would prove his searching to be pointless, however, as minutes would crawl into hours and he would not find what he was looking for. That did not stop Marschal from making sure he looked through every part of the town before he moved onto the next part of the mission. After all, the man, whose wife had lost her necklace, would want a thorough search of the place before claiming it was not out on the streets.

His nose would take in all of the scents of the town, despite how overwhelming they happened to be and made him want to pass out. Yet, as he sniffed the air on occasion, even the scents that were carried through the air did not hold the smell of the man’s wife. It was as if the place had become stagnated and nothing in the world would ever allow the magus to breathe in the aroma that he needed to. That or it had been so long since the woman had lost her necklace that the perfume that covered it had likely worn off by now. Sighing, Marschal would give up on searching the whole town for that single, tiny piece of jewelry that was hopeless in being found. Straightening his posture from where he was bent down, looking at a corner of two buildings, Marschal turned around to head out and find a hotel to sleep out. As he did so, however, a sound echoed into his ear, noisy like someone trying to gain a person’s attention in the most annoying way possible.

“Psst. . . Hey. . . Hey, you,” a woman’s voice called from the shadows of a back alley, instantaneously gaining the attention of the half-breed. “I hear that you’re looking for a lost necklace and I believe I may just have the information that you’re looking for if you’re interested.”

The woman was rather cunning in her words, but if she had information on the whereabouts of the necklace, then he would be up to listening. Turning toward the female, the magus perked his ears forward and waited intently for the woman to begin speaking of what she knew. A small part of him believed she wouldn’t just freely give the information, however, that she would be looking for something more. He would stand there with hopeful curiosity, but after a moment of silence, he understood that she would not give him the information without a price. “So, what is that you want in return for the information?” the man stated calmly to the street urchin, even inching a little closer.

One of his hands reached outward and cupped her face in it, his golden optics looking enticingly into her eyes as he held her there. He brushed some of her frazzled hair out of her face and behind her ear, making the woman begin to feel a bit uncomfortable around him. Marschal leaned in close to her ear and whispered a few words that were only audible to the woman, not the passersby that walked along the sidewalks. Her expression changed after hearing the words and she pulled back slightly to look Marschal in the eyes again, even giving him a one-over.

After a moment of gazing him up and down and contemplating on the offer that she had been given, the woman nodded her head. “All right, I will give you thirty minutes to impress me with what you got and if you manage to impress me, I’ll give you the information,” she responded, smirking devilishly. Thirty minutes was all that the half-demon needed, any longer and perhaps she would get too attached to him after that.

As Marschal buckled up his pants, the woman ran fingers through her ragged hair, combing out the snarls and kinks in it. “There’s a man down at the Magic Box pawn shop, who sells stolen goods to customers that come into his business,” she explained to him. “If anything, one of the other street urchins likely found the necklace on the sidewalk and thought they could get a few jewels off of it. So, I suggest that you check down there before heading out somewhere else if the pawn shop ends up not having what you’re looking for. Knowing the street urchins around here, though, it’s more than likely that you’ll be able to find that missing necklace at the Magic Box. I wish you luck though because even the boss at the pawn shop isn’t someone that you really want to mess with.” Marschal glanced toward the woman as she finished speaking, running fingers through his hair and giving her a small nod of thanks.

Without hesitation, the man began heading down the street in the direction that he had last seen the building, named The Magic Box. His eyes would scan each and every building that was on both sides of the street, until at long last, he came across the building he was looking for. Looking both ways, Marschal quickly crossed the street and entered the building, the little bell on the door chiming as he entered. A man behind the counter looked up and greeted him instantly with a charming smile that looked like it could be hiding something. Marschal silently stalked up to the counter and looked down at the man that was about three or so inches shorter than he was. He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot lightly, cocking an eyebrow and waiting for the man to say something to him. “You don’t happen to have any necklaces in stock, do you?” Marschal interrupted the man before he was even able to say something.

“Necklaces? Why, of course, I have necklaces in stock!” the man exclaimed instantly after he had brought up the topic, “looking for a pretty necklace for that special someone in your life?” He turned away from the counter and bent down, picking up necklaces from a cupboard below before turning back and setting them on the counter.

“Actually, no. I was brought here by a street urchin because they found out that I was looking for a supposedly stolen piece of jewelry,” Marschal responded. “They told me that it was likely another street urchin had found this necklace and brought it to your shop to make a few jewels off it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. I don’t buy stolen pieces of jewelry from shifty characters; why else would my shop be number one in the city? People trust me, I trust the people; you should know that I wouldn’t go around and buy off stolen jewelry or wares off of others.”

“Strange, so why then would I be suggested to go here. . . the only pawn shop in the town, to find the missing jewelry of my client?” Marschal inquired.

Without Marschal’s complete knowledge, the pawn shop owner pressed a button underneath the countertop that would summon his goons. “All right, so you caught me redhanded,” the man stated in a solemn tone of voice, shrugging his shoulders slightly in response to Marschal. “I did purchase the stolen necklace from one of my street urchins, but what proof do you have that I even have the necklace anymore?” At his words, Marschal frowned, as it was the truth the young magus didn’t have a clue on how to prove the man had the necklace. More so, when three armed punks entered the building from various locations, the magus didn’t have the perfect answer for the pawn shop owner.

“How about the fact that one of the necklaces displayed in front of me is the stolen necklace,” the man inquired, lifting carefully a necklace with thirteen sapphires of different sizes on it and engraved with various amounts of diamonds. The man frowned in response and with a flick of his wrist, he would send the punks rushing toward the magus from all sides.

However, the punks would soon regret obeying the signal of their boss, being caught in the dazing aura that surrounded the drunk man. Marschal let a sly grin spread across his lips and he unhitched the gourd that was latched onto his belt, raising it slowly to his lips as he looked at the pawn shop owner. One, two, three large gulps and Marshal pulled the flask away with a refreshing sigh, then lowered his stance into a crouching tiger. He launched himself over the countertop in a matter of seconds and landed a blow to the pawn shop owner’s face, sending him backward a few steps. The man shook his dazed head and growled, rushing Marschal and throwing an uppercut to the male’s jaw that sent him flying backward. Slamming into the wall behind him, the male slumped to the ground for a minute, then slowly got back to his feet and charged the other man. Gritting his teeth, Marschal slunk down and rammed his right fist into the gut of the older man, pushing him backward another few steps.

The fighting would ensue for one very long hour or so before Marschal sent a right-hand uppercut to the man’s jaw, followed by a left-hand hook. This combination caused the pawn shop owner to have his head thrown backward, then knocked to the side, sending him to the ground. Marschal dusted off his fists and turned to look at the three armed punks that had been too dazed and occupied by his intoxicating aura to do anything. All three looked at him like he was a threat to their own lives and turned tail, rushing out the front door before Marschal could do anything. He smirked slightly and picked up the expensive necklace of his client’s wife, heading out the door with a pleased look on his face. Carefully, the man wrapped it up inside of some tissue paper and placed it on the inside pocket of his jacket before heading down the street. Returning this necklace was the last thing he had to do before he was able to head back to Rose Garden for a nice, long nap.