With Fleur it was all “by the book.” When the team needed to get something done they'd tie her up on a wild goose chase and just go. That's what was supposed to happen on the night they took down the boss. He held all the cards. If they went through procedure he'd have their badges and go after their families next. But somehow it didn't go down that way. Through the November mist came her form, five foot nothing and a half, a little round about the middle, flat-ironed hair pulled back into a low pony-tail. From her belt was her standard sword and glinting under the street-lamps was her badge. Then the boss stepped out of his home and called to her like a daughter, she turned, smiling, and handed him a brown envelope. All along they'd thought her the goody-goody and she was up to her eyeballs in corruption.


The grief surged with every expelled breath, always reaching higher peaks, never sufficiently soothed by her long intakes of the damp spring air. Tears began to spill from her helpless eyes onto the newly growing grass. Her gaze fell from bloom to bloom. In that moment the sure knowledge that life would go on without him, that time was only stopped for her, undid her completely. All pretense of quiet coping was lost and she sank to the damp bench not caring about the water that quickly soaked her to the skin. Her black fingers clasped his school photograph, he was smiling, and why shouldn't he? He was an A grade student headed for a top university, a church youth leader, and popular with his peers.

The Rune Knights stood on the corner in the hazy heat of the October sun. He was they very epitome of authority with his sword hanging idly at his hip, the street reflected in his over-large sunglasses. But Fleur couldn't help imagine that he must be sweating in that crisp blue uniform. Perhaps as he stood there he was planning nothing more than what donut he would have later in the morning and whether to have a latte or an Americano. It's never good news when a Rune Knight comes to your door at 3am. It's even worse when they remove their hat and request politely to come inside. In that moment they try their hardest to be human and all you see is the dark blue uniform and the shiny shoes, come to pull your world apart with their soft spoken words.

It was never the money. Collin Simmers signed up to protect and serve, maybe he was old fashioned, but he believed in public service. He saw the worst of humanity on a daily basis and it tested him. It tested his faith in the goodness of people and his natural optimism. He was there when the fire crews cut lifeless teens from the mangled wrecks of their birthday presents. He was there when a bleeding wife refused to press charges. He was there when the street walkers were released back to same abused and drug-addled lives. But he also witnessed the firefighters rush into burning buildings, he saw the paramedics pulling miracles from thin air, he saw the emergency nurses with their quick hands and the doctors who took charge of situations most would run from. He was proud to be a police officer. He was proud of his unit. The same day he hung his uniform for the last time and turned in his badge he started his new life as an outreach volunteer in a homeless shelter. He was the salt of the earth.

It had been overcast since she had woken. At first she assumed that it was too early to be up, the light hardly penetrated the fabric of her shelter. But after some moments of trying to return to sleep she had poked her head outside. The sky was awash with various shades of grey, in places a chink of light managed to break through, but otherwise it was almost as dark as pre-dawn. The air was humid and smelt of storms. Now she had to make a difficult call, should she march on to Hargeon or hunker down until the rains passed? She considered the flaws in each plan. She would have to chance it, there really was no choice. The gloom of the day was reflected in the moods of the citizens. Grey carpeted the sky so completely that even at noon the cars still needed full headlights and the street-lamps shone feebly into the perpetual twilight. It was cloudy for October. Mostly it was still hot but when a some cumulus moved over the sun people started to feel a chill. They either wore summer clothes and froze momentarily or put on a sweater only to have to remove it soon after. This roast and freeze cycle continued until nightfall. Earlier in the morning the blue that stretched into the horizon had only been broken only by transitory wisps of white. Now it threaded across the sky in thicker bands. Yet they were still white with hardly a trace of grey and we dispelled worries of rain. Gone was the open blue sky of yesterday. Above was an almost unbroken layer of white and grey, brilliant where the sunshine broke through and dark where it did not. Fleur dipped back in the house for her favorite sweater, silently thanking the clouds for giving her a chance to wear it.

She went into the kitchen and decided to fix herself a bowl of cereal. But it wasn't enough. She sat at the dining room table, watching the colorful wheels of cereal float around in the bowl full of milk. The rich aroma of the dish wafted down and beckoned her. One could not resist the delightful sensations that whipped up inside a memory at the mere thought of delving one's teeth deep and fast into the pulpy texture of the pizza. Cheese spread atop in copious amounts and the wide assortment of condiments sprinkled in the perfect amounts mingle to produce a taste unlike any other: salty, peppery, cheesy with a whiff of Italian cuisine and a tinge of Greek taste. She licked her fleshy lips and grabbed a handful of oily h’ors devoures. They were little shrimps, fried to a crisp. She placed a pile of shrimp on her plate and drenched them in creamy, sweet sauce. Her pudgy hand clenched the oil soaked shrimp and stuffed them into her mouth. She licked each finger, smeared with cream and oil. She crunched another handful of crispy shrimp. She snatched a large chicken leg and a large steak, saturated them in the rich, sweet sauce and popped a large chunk of steak into her mouth. The steak was too thick to chew with her mouth closed, not that she was concerned. She practically owned the kingdom, she just had to make the deal official. Fleur dabbed her fleshy cheeks with a delicate napkin before speaking. The waiter arrived with her orange juice and the first course: two plates of ravioli. The little white parcels were wonderfully fresh, filled with wild mushrooms, and served with a salad of mixed greens and parmesan cheese. Fleur tasted one. She had to admit that the food was as delicious as the old grandma down the street had promised. She peeled away the oily corn husks wrapped around the tamale, the grease coating her fingers. She took a bite of the blend of cornmeal, chicken, and cream cheese. The cream cheese was smooth while the chicken felt rough, but, nonetheless, the meat tasted immensely satisfying. The warm mixture was pure a ambrosia in her mouth. Fleur brought the fresh, warm bread to her nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled rich, promising a delightful taste. Picking up a knife, she applied copious amounts of thick, creamy yellow butter. She spooned out a dollop of sweet, tangy blackberry jelly. Evelyn slathered the sweet mixture onto the spongy white bread. She ripped off a chunk, stuffing the piece into her mouth. It was soft and warm. The pleasant smoothness of the butter blended perfectly with the bitter-sweet taste of black berries. He held a wooden platter towards her. There was a piece of warm bread with a slab of melting yellow butter and a thick, hearty slice of roasted pork. She felt no need for pretentious manners and grabbed the pork, ripping a chunk off with her teeth. "Vivre de pain, d'amour, et d'eau fraiche" Live on bread, love and fresh water.

Fleur paced the streets of Hargeon when she meets up with Collin Simmers and hears his story. A Rune Knight, huh? His story was an odd one; the lord called and he needed to patrol the streets. Obviously he couldn't be in two places at once, so he asks Fleur is she could be the one to help him with his duty, even if only for today. The little lady nodded, saying nothing to others. As she took on the post and Collin left to fulfill his other duty, she spotted something out of the ordinary -- someone was smuggling crates into the town! One was a fat man and another, a thug it seemed. She sprinted after him, ignoring the weight of her giant sword that she slowly became accustomed to. She threw a tackle and caught him, threatening with her eyes to use her sword if he moved. Bringing him back to the Rune Knight headquarters situated in Hargeon, she interrogated him and when Collin came, told him what happened. He rewarded her with jewels in turn.