The audacity.
“I gotta agree with Gael,” Tiffany said, partially in truth. She hated giving Gael credit, mainly because the pair was in their ex’s mode and had no casual conversations about dating again. The two were off and on depending on the day of the week. “I wanted something cool, like a sword. Instead, I get a staff? What am I? Five?”
Her beaver grunted.
Name: Tiffany Sparks
Branch: Bestial (Familiar)
“Exactly,” Tiffany continued, twirling a blonde pigtail with one hand and the staff with her other. “This is some basic, boring bitch stuff right here. I wanna cut a fool, not thwack them.”
“I don’t know.” Wesley shrugged, holding his batons while talking to his familiar, swimming inside a small fishbowl. “Moo-Moo and I like our weapons.”
Name: Wesley Monte
Branch: Bestial (Familiar)
It was a yellow fish with white spots and odd little horns on its head. The most interesting—or disturbing—part was how the fish kept the portable aquarium enclosure afloat through precise telekinesis.
“Of course you do, you got batons,” Gael said. “I should have batons but with razor blades.”
Wesley grimaced and stepped away from Gael, while his fish familiar floated alongside him. Wesley had a deep, dark brown complexion, complemented by the bright yellow suit he wore. Not only did it match his familiar’s yellow tone, but it also made him stand out in comparison to his fellow interns who didn’t dress so formally. Gael wore jeans and a shirt, while Tiffany kept it casual with an oversized blouse and miniskirt. Apparently, Wesley’s familiar continued pressuring him to dress to impress.
Based on his surface thoughts, it was easy enough to determine the familiar was a cowfish—hence the absurd name, no doubt. A truly bizarre-looking ocean animal. It never ceased to impress me the strange beasts that’d latch themselves to a witch. I bet it was a hassle having to constantly acquire saltwater and maintain aquariums for the fish, but at least it could telekinetically move its own fishbowl around.
Suddenly, Ben’s dog, Sheamus, didn’t seem like such a headache.
“Just so we’re clear, a meteor hammer is one of the coolest and most complex weapons in the world,” Diaz said, gesturing to Gael’s weapon.
“It’s a ball on a chain. What, am I practicing for marriage?” Gael started twirling round and round with little regard for his surroundings. “How complicated can—”
A sudden whoosh sent the metal ball crashing into the back of Gael’s head.
Tiffany stood tensely with her hands raised in front of her face. “Sorry, sorry, sorry. It almost hit me.”
“It did hit me,” Gael screamed.
It was clear he picked his interns based on their branch magic, but he underestimated how challenging Gael would be as an intern. If I had to guess, I’d say he wanted to prepare these students in a way that the world never did for him. Diaz had lost his familiar partner twice. Once as a child and again as an acolyte. It was a horror he carried with him on every mission with his bear, Priscilla. While he’d healed a lot over the years, the loss and grief would never leave his heart.
“That’s it, I’d like to file a formal complaint with your superior.” Gael tossed the meteor hammer onto the ground. “This is unacceptable.”
Diaz quirked a brow.
Most of Gael’s petulant behavior came from the massive chip he still had on his shoulder because Milo hadn’t picked him as an intern. In his mind, Gael believed Diaz ruined it, interfered, and was nothing but a knockoff version of his favorite enchanter. It didn’t seem to matter to Gael that Diaz had ten more years’ worth of industry experience or a higher ranking in the Global Guild. It didn’t matter that his branch and behavior were perfectly suited for Gael. Nope. All he cared about was the fact that he despised Enchanter Diaz and would let him know it at every opportunity.
“I clearly need a new mentor.” Gael folded his arms and huffed. “I suppose, under these circumstances, I can settle for, say, switching to Enchanter Evergreen’s team. I hear he still has openings.”
“No.” Diaz shook his head. “Evergreen’s all filled up.”
“No,” Gael corrected. “He only has one intern. Transfer me immediately.”
“If you don’t want to be my intern, I can’t make you.” Diaz shrugged with a sad sigh, beleaguered and intentionally dramatized. “I suppose I’ll let Mrs. Whitehurst know you’ve decided to quit the program and complete your studies without the internship portion.”
“Wait, what?” Gael widened his eyes. “No. Absolutely, not. I never said that.”
“I mean, if you don’t want to stay, there’s no alternative,” Diaz said. “All mentors have been assigned. Maybe they can find you someone else who is willing to take on an intern who quits after just the first week, but I don’t know. Quite the gamble. I don’t believe in gambling, though.”
“Ba-ba-bawk.”
