Elyas closed the heavy oak door of the stone cottage that he resided in with his uncle. He took a deep breath and exhaled, clutching on the strap of his black messenger bag that was slung over his right shoulder. Then, he started the long trek down to the bottom of the hill.

A faint mew disturbed his peace. A small black cat was rubbing herself against his trousers. Not again, he thought. Since saving the cat from drowning, almost two months ago, Elyas had found the sapphire-eyed cat sitting on his doorstep everyday without fail. The cat would follow him everywhere and when he went swimming inside his uncle's pool, the feline would sit patiently on the edge, waiting for him to finish. In the evenings, when he went flying, the cat would attempt to follow him but would eventually collapse in exhaustion, yowling for her master's return; for he was simply too fast for her to catch up with.

Elyas looked down at Irys, a ghost of a smile forming on his lips. He reached down and scratched the feline behind the ears before resuming his journey.

He reached the tavern and pushed the door open. He closed the door behind him, leaving the cat pawing at the door. Sorry, little guy, he thought. There was a heavy atmosphere around him as the guests chattered amongst themselves feverishly. He shot a look towards the bartender. "The usual, please," he muttered, making his way down the crowds of people to a secluded spot at the back of the tavern, near a wall. He took a seat, pulling his bag over his head and placing it on the chair beside him. He pulled open the flap, retrieving a weathered book. Inside it were a series of crumpled pieces of paper and some photographs relating to his latest case. He scratched his head, eyes fixated on the documents as he tried to drown out the loud conversation around him.