My alarm blares like a shrill reminder of my looming responsibilities. I shut it off with a clumsy swipe, my hand flopping somewhere between the alarm and the clock.
The smell of fresh coffee and dust lingers in the air, greeting me to another day I'd rather spend passed out in bed.
That's when Aunt Libel barges in, my tutor-turned-advisor.
"How's my Magister doing? Another rough morning?" she says, a teasing smile on her lips.
Don't get any ideas about some cozy relationship between us. Tempting as it might be—especially with those two massive, jiggling orbs constantly swaying in front of me—I'm a guy with a code of honor.
Plus, she was my dad's old colleague. That's why, to her, I'm like a nephew or something. Hooking up? Not happening.
(Back to the story.)
"Ready as ever," I reply with fake enthusiasm, stretching.
Man, I'm still so sleepy…
Aunt Libel rolls her eyes. "I don't know how your father thought you were the right pick, but we'll make do."
Yeah, I'm clueless about what Dad was thinking too.
The rest of the day is a blur of dull meetings and big decisions I leave to others.
After a long day, I collapse onto my couch. Then it hits me—I was supposed to do something today.
What was it? Eh, Aunt Libel will handle it…
The door swings open.
Yup, people just waltz into my place without knocking. Respect is dead.
A woman steps in. Not just any woman—Kathleen, the rep from the Association tied to my guild.
The Association is the name for a bunch of big shots who run the magical world in this country. Kathleen's job is to deliver their orders and keep us updated on new directives.
Something in her eyes tells me this isn't a friendly visit. Then again, her visits never are.
"Hello, Magister Roskales."
Unlike Aunt Libel, Kathleen and I are the same age.
You're probably thinking I should make a move on her, right?
Here's my answer: no chance.
It's not my fault—I've tried countless times, only to get shot down. After enough attempts, even a slacker like me learns his lesson. That woman's a minefield.
One of my last wishes in life is to see who manages to tame that beast in my lifetime. I'd make them my life mentor on the spot.
"Hey, Kathleen. Missed you too. So glad you're here."
She sighs, completely ignoring my sarcastic jab. "The former Magister of this guild thought you had what it takes to replace him, but so far, I see more slacker than leader."
"Ouch. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Kathleen. You know I'm just here for decoration, right?"
She steps closer, eyes locked on me. "That's what you think. Anyway, there's an urgent matter I need to discuss."
Like I said, never a courtesy call.
I sit up on the couch. "Who says I'm not busy, Kathleen?"
It's true, too. As guild master, I've got stuff to handle every day. I'm a busy guy, aren't I?
Ignoring me, Kathleen fixes me with her icy, killer stare. Wait, she wouldn't actually try anything, would she?
Coffee. It's the answer to everything—at least, that's what I tell myself, unable to stand her murderous gaze any longer.
"Fine, I've got time right now. But coffee first, deal?"
Kathleen stares a bit longer before finally sitting across from me.
"What'll you have?" I ask, heading to the kitchen. "Double almond leaf coffee, or maybe an aphrodisiac espresso?"
Kathleen raises a brow but relents. "Just black coffee, please."
I head to the kitchen to brew the potions, letting the coffee's aroma fill the air before the talk starts. For myself, I go with a sweet, mild coffee. If we're tackling problems, might as well do it with a decent dose of caffeine.
I return with two steaming mugs, vapor rising in clouds. After serving and sitting, I take a sip, hoping it works miracles on my motivation.
"Alright, Kathleen," I start, setting my mug down. "Spill it. What's going on? Why are you here, besides reminding me I'm unfit to lead this guild?"
She sighs, like she expected my reaction. "Recently, a raider who vanished years ago resurfaced. Rumors are she's planning something. Since she's operating in your region, the Association tasked your guild with finding out what she's up to. Stopping her would be ideal, of course."
I take another sip. "So?"
Why's this my problem?
I sigh. "Look, Kathleen, I'm a leader in name, not in action. I can't do anything. Do what you usually do—go tell Aunt Libel. She'll know what to do."
My words seem to irk her, but it's the plain truth.
If the guild needs to stop a criminal, I don't see what I could do.
To promote my hands-off leadership style (aka dodging responsibilities), I handed all administrative duties to Aunt Libel. So, coming to me for something like this is pointless.
My role? Slap the guild's seal on things and show up to monthly guild meetings.
Kathleen knows this. So why hassle me?
"Really?" she says, a mocking edge to her voice.
Weird.
"Sounds like you don't quite grasp the situation you're in, Magister Roskales," she continues.
What's she getting at?
I'm starting to get curious, and Kathleen must notice, which seems to amuse her.
She goes on. "You're a Warden, which means you're a mage bound by a state contract."
Kathleen leans back in her chair, crossing her legs with the cold elegance of an ex you wish you'd never had, and gives me a smug little smile.
I frown. Even a professional slacker like me knows a thing or two about magical bureaucracy.
"So what?" I say, setting my mug down, as if having both hands free will help me dodge this conversation. "I'm also the Magister of this guild, which makes me a leader. Leader. Big word, right?"
Kathleen shakes her head, clearly entertained. She hands me a sealed envelope stamped with the Association's golden mark. I open it reluctantly, read two lines of the letter inside, and already feel my liver trying to bolt.
>The apathetic behavior and passive management of Magister Roskales have raised doubts about his legitimacy. A practical evaluation will be conducted during the current mission. In case of clear failure or direct abdication, his appointment will be suspended, and his status reevaluated.<
I reread it. Again. And again. But the words don't change.
Kathleen crosses her arms, unfazed.
"The Association thinks you're too…" She pauses, like she's searching for the right word, but her mocking gaze says she knows exactly what's coming. "…lax. That's the word they used in the report."
I rub my forehead. "Lax?"
She shrugs. "Lax."
Charming.
"So this mission isn't just a mission." I point at the letter like it's a cursed blade. "It's a test."
She nods, smiling. "An evaluation."
I let out a long sigh, slumping back in my seat, arms dangling.
I knew this day was going to suck. The moment I smelled that mix of dust and coffee, it was doomed.
"If you're removed, you'll have to run daily missions for this guild as a regular member. And if you think your slacker life will be easier as a plain Warden, you're dead wrong, Magister Roskales."
I was about to take a sip of coffee but freeze.
Is she serious?
My original secret plan was to sabotage my leadership role, forcing the guild or the Association to admit my incompetence and boot me out. I figured once the guild master burden was off my shoulders, I could go back to my old slacker life.
But there was that membership and confidentiality clause in the Warden contract.
Damn it! That's what I get for signing anything just to get some peace. So it's over? I'm doomed to a life of forced labor? Dad, is this the fate you left your son to?
"Hell, what am I supposed to do then?"
The words slip out amid my thoughts.
Kathleen, meanwhile… is smiling? I knew she was a devil hiding in a beauty's skin! Wouldn't surprise me if she's the one who ratted me out to the Association.
"It's simple. Complete this mission properly. That'll buy you more time as guild master," she replies.
Is there really no other way? Could I run? Nah, for a slacker like me, that's the worst option. A slacker life without freedom is a nightmare.
"Fine, fine," I say at last.
Can't help it. It's all Dad's fault. I swear I'll find a way to bring you back!
"Give me the details on this case. It's urgent, right? So let's wrap it up fast."
Nothing's stopping me from preserving my slacker life!