The music was loud and the place was crowded. Colorful lights blinked and flashed everywhere, shining upon countless bright colored posters and signs hung on the dark purple brick walls, making them glow. There were a couple of fake trees made of metal covered in neon-blue ornaments, which adorned each side of the small stage, which was the center of attention, where a couple DJs played a set together. There were people of all sorts dancing, chatting, playing, eating, drinking, many of which wearing colorful clothes, adding to the fun mood of the place. But one figure leaned against the wall in a corner with his arms crossed and a gloomy expression. Dressed casually in a black jacket and jeans, the blond-furred canine watched people come and go from behind his messy hair. This massive party at a nightclub wasn’t the kind of place he enjoyed being at and he couldn’t wait to get out, but he tried to consider it a necessary sacrifice, for he had a good reason to be there. His red eyes searched the crowd. He was waiting for someone.

   His name was Seir, but for the current situation, he used his alias, Devon. It was wise to keep his true name a secret because although he seemed like a pretty normal 18 year old teen, he was always involved in some particularly shady business. He didn’t even like being in such a crowded place, exposed to so many people for this, but the meeting location wasn’t his choice.
He reached for his phone in his pocket after it beeped with a notification.

   “Second floor,” it read.
   Seir grinned. “Finally,” he thought. As casually as he could despite his eagerness, Seir waded through the crowd, heading towards the entrance of the club, where there was a set of stairs leading to the second floor. As he went upstairs, he put his hand over a pocket on the inside of his jacket, making sure he didn’t forget what he had to bring.



   The lounge area right by the stairs was quite crowded, so it was difficult to take a good look around without having to push past people. It was a bit too chaotic for Seir’s taste, so he quickly moved on to the next area, which overlooked the mainstage downstairs. He leaned against the neon-lit glass railings and looked around, trying to search every corner from a distance, but there was no sign of the person he was looking for.

Growing impatient, he roamed both areas for a while trying to take a closer look through all those people. As he was almost giving up and sending a message, he spotted his contact through the large glass doors that led to a balcony. Noticing Seir’s coming, the slate-gray furred jackal looked at him with a sharp wide grin in his face. He seemed to be in his forties, with scruffy looking fur and some notches on his tall, pointy ears. He wore a small top hat, striped in a very faded shade of purple, which seemed pretty old and worn as well.

   “Devon!” he exclaimed with a smile wider than before, “What took you so long, kid?”
   “You could have been a bit more specific, Fletcher,” Seir complained, “And what’s even the point of meeting in a crowded club, of all places?”
   “What, you’re gonna tell me you’re not enjoying this?” the man said with a chuckle, “Aren’t teenagers supposed to like parties?”
   “I don’t,” Seir said, showing his displeasure.
   “Well, you’re not my only customer today, kid. I run a business, and I find places like this to be fairly favorable to connect with a particular kind of customer. Because, you know, you necromages aren’t the only folks I make business with,” the jackal said with a smirk.
   Seir huffed quietly, but he knew he shouldn’t be overly picky with one of his most trusted contacts.
   “But speaking of business, let’s get to it, shall we?” Fletcher looked into his side-bag and took a small black box. “Sealed, untraceable and perfectly rigged on the inside to preserve the integrity of the item, as per your order,” Fletcher said, displaying the box on his hand. “Now…” He extended his other hand towards Seir, with a grin.
   Seir reached into the pocket on the inside of his jacket and took a sizable bulk of money. “Here you go, the second part of the payment, as agreed,” he said as he placed it in Fletcher’s hand.
   Seir took the box in his hands and examined it as Fletcher counted the money. It seemed to be made of wood, but had some dark metallic plates on its corners and along the opening line. It was locked by a dark red wax-like seal with Fletcher’s brand symbol stamped on it, which can only be opened by magic. It was barely larger than his palm but was rather heavy for its size, just as Seir expected.

   “All good here!" Fletcher said, showing his sharp yellowed teeth as he put the money into his bag, “You are a great customer, Devon. A really great one. I sure could use more trustworthy customers like you, hah!”
   Seir nodded, not paying much attention to the flattery as he stuffed the small box into the same pocket in his jacket where he carried the money before.
   “As usual, if you ever need anything else, do not hesitate to contact me again. I am Fletcher the fetcher, always at your service!" He bowed down in exaggerated respect.
   “Thanks, Fletcher. I’ll let you know when I have any new requests for you,” Seir said.
   “Now if you’ll excuse me, Devon, I have more business to attend to.” Fletcher collected another bag of his that was on the floor behind him. “May we always thrive in the darkness, my friend!” he said, tipping his hat as he headed off.