The Experimental Mages needed to know if I wanted a new prototype of the weapon they created that helped to focus bursts of a Mage’s magic. Their first prototype had blown up—literally—in the face of Destin, a Fire Mage, which landed him in the infirmary for a week.
Art, one of the Mages from the Magical Experiments Department, hefted the weapon up onto his shoulder as he spoke. “You sure you don’t want to test her out again?” He patted the weapon affectionately. “Charise promises not to blow up . . . again. Well, at least she thinks she won’t. Can’t be 100 percent certain on these things, if you know what I mean.”
I absolutely didnotknow what he meant, I only dealt in certainties inmy line of work. “Quite positive, Art. Work out the exploding thing and then we can talk again.”
“Well alright then, General, I’ll just give Charise here to Gene. He’s been hankering to try ’er out.” And with that, he gave Charise another pat, spun on his heel, and whistled as he left my office, leaving the door open as he went.
I had no sooner closed the door and resettled into my chair, reading a petition from some group or other wanting to host some sort of public picnic to support something about trees in the city square—why? Just why?—before there was a knock on my door and the consultant for inter-territory commerce entered.
Apparently, there was an issue with lumber coming in from some of the Western Territories that were dominated by the Runewood, that needed myimmediateattention.
Why is this my responsibility?
The afternoon progressed in a similar fashion. I’d pacify one concern and settle into my paperwork, only to be interrupted again by some other menial question or task. By the end of the day, further paperwork piled up on my desk—the secretary for the administration building continually dropped off the mail every hour or so—and I reread the picnic petition at least fifteen times.
By the time what felt like the thirtieth knock sounded on my door, I was agitated and irritable beyond belief.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I hastily signed my name on the bottom of the petition before barking, “What?”
Lex d’Talionis, an instructor at the Academy and one of our most powerful Mages, stuck his head in before grimacing.
“Uh, this seems like a bad time, sir.”
I tossed my pen down and scrubbed my hand down my face. “No, Lex,” I said, voice still muffled by my hand, “this is a perfect time. I have a literal thousand letters to get through, it feels like every person in the city needs me for something trivial, and I’m fairly confident that I just agreed to a petition for a nudist picnic in support of fostering baby trees.” Lex bit his lip to cover up a laugh. “But by all means, come on in!”
“Great!” A smile broke across his face.
Lex had been with Alois and I since we first took power somefifteen years ago, but he was significantly younger than us—a fact that was highlighted by both his glowingly smooth skin and jovial personality, untampered by cynicism that comes with age and experience. Or it could be from all the sex that damn Pleasure Mage had. Rumors floated about the training grounds of the Academy, and they all pointed to an incredibly active and rather adventurous sex life. I couldn’t even picture some of the things he was rumored to get up to.
Literally, getupto.
“What do you want?” I snapped, probably ruder than necessary. Lex’s smile faded a bit at the corners but picked up again after a second. The guy was like a puppy, it was hard to stay mad at him and he never held a grudge.
People should be more like Lex.
“I heard we have a new Creation Mage joining us!” Lex was practically bouncing in his seat.
I frowned.
“What? Under whose orders?”
“You didn’t hear? I thought . . . well I thought Lord d’Refan would have told you already, considering you’re his second and all,” Lex said, cocking his head at me in question.
I rubbed my forehead again.
“Lord d’Refan.”
“Yep!”
“Told you that we have a Creation Mage joining us.”
“Now you’re getting it!”
There really was no ruining Lex’s mood, apparently.
He also is apparently struggling to pick up on social cues. Or just blatantly ignoring them. I went with the latter after I removed my hand and studied Lex again. He wore a shit-eating grin, and I knew the kid was fucking with me, to some extent.
“You knew Lord d’Refan didn’t run this by me,” I deadpanned.
