Unmaking Magic

	The spell was simple enough, a one-handed gesture and a single word, albeit a word in a tongue long dead. Flora slipped unnoticed into City Guard building — not literally unseen, but entirely unnoticed. She waited by doors and shadowed guardsmen through, until she stood unnoticed in the Captain's office. There she waited for an opportune moment.
	The office gave an initial impression of militant ostentatiousness, but that impression soon gave way to one of going through the motions. There must be a list somewhere of everything a Guard captain needs to receive nobles, and the Captain must've gone down the list, checked off every item, and thereafter proceeded to ignore form in the name of function.
	The walls were a sturdy oak, despite being deep inside the Guard building. Their width was covered well by four large tapestries, and between them three large and sturdy-looking shields, bearing the heraldry of Highfork, of its City Guard, and presumably of the Captain himself. But the tapestries were identical, the product of sorcerous trip looms, a stylized image of the city of Highfork. And the shields were of painted wood. Two swords were crossed behind his chair, but they were standard issue among the Guard. His chair had been modified with a high back, but it had started its life concerned with posture, not presentability. His desk offered a vast surface, but was otherwise simple and sturdy, and today that surface was consumed three deep. Three chairs stood on the other side of the desk, unmodified but otherwise similar.
	Each time someone came in, they would knock, the Captain would bid them "come", and they would waste no time with salutes and other formalities — save one visitor who came from the palace. Today, most visits were to give some report or receive some order about this morning's attack by the children of Hokmiah. Today, the Captain was very, very busy.
	When Flora had been in his office for nearly an hour, he called his adjutant in and asked for a respite. She stood by the door while he wept, then contemplated. When he rose and made for the door, presumably to call for his adjutant, she knocked.
	He paused. Briefly he looked daggers at the wall, perhaps at his adjutant's desk on the other side. Then he called out as usual. "Come!"
	Flora dropped her spell. As his gaze fixed on her she stood, imperious, in a prismatic robe, the hood drawn forwards to shadow her face. Yeichava Themself would hide Their face behind a peacock fan, but Flora wasn't masquerading as her Layit, merely evoking Their nature as Their priest. "I represent the church of Yeichavah of Anostêr, Layit Of Effort. We offer our services in investigating, and recovering from, this attack by the children of Hokmiah."
	After a moment he relaxed, and loosened the metaphorical grip with his eyes, as he realized she was no threat. "Great. Glad to have your help. Is this some political thing?"
	"Yes in the sense that it always is with Hokmiah, but not in the sense you mean, no. The situation as it stands seems… impossible, does it not?"
	He sighed ruefully, and rubbed his temples. ""The impossible we do here, the possible we leave to lay folk?""
	She nodded, a proud grin spreading. "Just so."
	He returned to his desk, gesturing for her to sit before heaving weightily into his own chair. "You should know we've already tapped the Library for sorcerous help."
	She sat primly in the center seat, with another nod, and this time a darker expression. "Of course."
	"Less formally, my cousin's a witch, and has been scrying all morning."
	"Oh, hedge magic is clean. That will be effortless to work with."
	"What seems impossible at the moment…" he passed a stack of papers to her side of the table, "is tracking down the perps. Or perp, but…"
	She skimmed them, memorizing the faces of the people documented there. "But most likely, it was a coordinated attack by multiple people without any visible connection, from multiple walks of life."
	He nodded. "Yup."
	She finished memorizing faces, and passed the stack back to him. "I will require access to the scene of the attack."
	He nodded and pulled open a drawer of his desk, picking out a paper to fill in, sign, and certify with his seal as captain of the Highfork City Guard. "This'll get you into anywhere in the city related to this investigation." He rolled up the document, seal and header showing, and passed it to her.
	She accepted it with a gracious nod, and tucked it into an inner pocket of her robe, revealing the cassock underneath to be just as colorful. "Excellent. However, I do note that you haven't asked us to investigate the motives behind this attack."
	He shrugged. "At first glance, the motive is clear: Hokmiah doesn't like organized cities, except when we're being reactionary."
	"Violent reaction born from fear of chaos, yes."
	"Yeah, that. So, after Highfork accepted the refugees, His minions have done exactly that, and He gets a "rebellion against comfort" for the rest of us in the process."
	She nodded. "But…"
	He sighed and nestled back into the support of his chair. "Maybe there's a more-specific motive, but figuring it out would be —"
	"— Impossible?" she finished for him.
	"…Yeah, that." He grinned oddly at her. "Alright, deal. First priority, track down the perps, tell us who they are. Once that's done, find the deeper motive, or find that there isn't one."
	She smiled serenely. "Excellent."
	"Now if you'll excuse me…"
	"Certainly." She stood and bowed lightly, then turned to head for the door. Just before reaching it, she reactivated her obscurity spell, and vanished from the attention of any onlookers. When he went to ask his adjutant about her, she slipped out through the open door, and made her way out through the barracks — not literally unseen, but entirely unnoticed.