Beagle’s Blot 5 | The Blue

Today was the first time I truly recognised the value of formal credit. With nothing to my person but the clothes hanging off my shoulders and the sad sack on my back, transit was not going to be easy to arrange. All I had was my name.

But my family is a litter of Callij, and beyond those boundaries the name carries no weight. So, of course, when I approached the merchants, they scoffed at my offer of promised payment upon the safe delivery of my person to a preagreed destination. There was s...