BANG!
The door to the Lord's office flew open with a crack so sharp it might as well have been a gunshot. Riley froze. He'd never heard a door sound like that before.
But this one did. Though in fairness, it might have just been his fear talking.
See, the negotiations for better working conditions hadn't even started yet, but the room already seemed to be too small for two beings to coexist.
Riley sat stiffly at the small table, parchment of tear-streaked "bare minimum" demands in front of him, while his boss stood there, unmoving, silent, and terrifying in the way that only an ancient, extremely annoyed dragon would be.
And really, when it's like this, it's difficult to pick what was worse.
Was it the fact that he was sitting there bargaining for basic human rights, or that his fury wasn't even directed at him, and yet he was the pitiful soul that had to deal with it?
Not that the ranking would change anything for him. But maybe it would for the employees of the HR department.
Like right now.
If he opted not to say anything, this dragon, whose golden eyes glowed as he scanned the miserable list, would likely toast the unlucky employees.
And that would be the kinder option. For at least there were solutions to burns. But recovering from pulverized dust might not be as easy.
The temperature in the room spiked several degrees. A faint crackle of heat shimmered in the air.
Riley could feel his collar growing damp with sweat.
And then, without a word, Kael conjured a blazing strip of dragonfire parchment out of thin air, filling it with flaming script.
The nervous aide leaned forward slightly, panic already climbing his chest.
"My Lord—" he started, just as Kael snapped his fingers, sending the fiery missive off in a burst of embers that seared the wall behind it.
Oh no. Oh no no no.
That wasn't just a memo. That was a precursor. A warning shot.
Riley's eyes widened. His mind flashed with vivid images of his boss storming HR in all his terrifying, molten glory, laying waste to every poor, innocent, or at least, bureaucratically incompetent elf in the department.
And so, with a strangled noise, the normally docile employee bolted.
He darted to the magical office door and planted himself squarely in front of it, arms spread wide like a very flimsy, very nervous blockade.
"My Lord! Wait!"
Kael paused mid-step, his gaze lowering to Riley with slow menace.
"You're standing in my way, Hale," he said, voice like cracking embers.
"I—I know! But listen!" Riley stammered, planting his feet anyway. "You can't just… storm HR and roast them alive!"
Kael arched a brow. "Why not?"
"Because!" Riley flailed for an explanation. "Because—well—because technically—technically it's not even their fault!"
Kael froze. "Excuse me?"
"My Lord, technically, they probably won't know what to do with me, considering the apparent nature of my employment." Riley blurted out.
"Also, it took nearly a month before we managed to actually return to the office. And about the same amount of time before I got the chance to visit the department."
The temperature in the room dropped a few degrees, but somehow it felt even more dangerous than before.
His molten gold eyes narrowed to slits.
Riley's breath hitched, and his arms—still stretched across the door—started to shake a little. But he forced himself to keep talking, even as his brain screamed at him to shut up before he ended up incinerated.
"Sir…Do you remember? My first day here?" Riley said weakly, shifting his weight from foot to foot.
That pointed gaze sharpened.
"That was the day of that big conference," Riley continued carefully, "the one you said couldn't be missed… and how there was no time to execute all the standard procedures."
Kael's head tilted ever so slightly.
"I believe," Riley added, voice softening into a whisper, "that was the day I nearly came in wearing my graduation toga."
There was a beat of silence.
And then another.
Riley risked a look up.
Kael was staring at him, unreadable.
So, he plowed ahead, praying to every deity that had abandoned him the day he was forced to take this job.
"You said there was no time to wait for HR. And you were right, of course. It was an important event. Just…maybe none of us expected it to end in a…fiasco that would take that long to resolve."
"But I'm not out here trying to blame you, My Lord. Definitely not. I believe it's mostly an accident." He clarified, knowing that if he was misunderstood, then he might as well forget about retirement and just skip straight to being a freeman in the afterlife.
Riley's words trailed off into the thick, charged silence of the room.
Kael's golden eyes stayed fixed on him.
And Riley, bless his fragile human heart, didn't even dare breathe. He stayed glued to the door, a shaky smile plastered on his face as he served as the shield for everyone else.
And just when he thought maybe, just maybe, he'd talked his way out of immediate death, Kael finally spoke.
"Hale," he said, voice soft and lethal.
"Yes, my Lord?"
"Step aside."
"…Sir?" Riley squeaked.
"Because," Kael said, a faint wisp of smoke curling from his lips, "I'm going out. Or do I have to ask for your permission?"
Apparently, Riley failed to convince the culprit. He thought that a majestic being like Dragon Lord Kael would always project and never accept his shortcomings.
Thankfully, employment and being able to stay in such a place meant that one had either a special constitution, astounding skill, or debt.
And in this case, Mina belonged to the first group.
Gifted with a special knack for self-preservation, the normally cheery elf thought of ways to stay alive after their department received that emotional missive, which was probably written with the blood of the innocent (not).
And with that impending sense of doom, the woman decided to pull open her drawer, grabbing a single slip of parchment. And with a practiced hand, she penned her emergency words:
"Leave of absence."
Effective immediately.
She placed her notice neatly on her desk, straightened her blouse, and stepped away.
The only trace she left behind was her usual consolation chocolate, tucked carefully in the center of her chair.
If anyone came looking for her…
Well.
They could make do with that.