The door of the Shadow Pack's quarters slammed open, and a warlock in his usual orange hoodie, green six-pocket shorts, and orange shoes came rushing in.
"What's the matter?" asked a blonde woman sitting on a circular couch in the middle of the room. She was sitting in a very unladylike manner as she cleaned her nails with a combat knife.
"Woah! Careful with that, Morrigan."
"Speak, Jovial," she replied nonchalantly.
Jovial looked around, seeing all the members of the Shadow Pack, the four other warlocks. Crimson and Grave at the bar on the farther left side of the room, and Niflheim on the opposite end of the entrance, reading a book in his little library. But he didn't find the one person he was looking for.
"Director's back," he said. "He seems angry."
"When is he not?" said Grave—big man, thick mustache, raspy voice. He high-fived Crimson, who brushed his red hair elegantly. Then they threw a can of beer in Jovial's direction.
Jovial pulled out his wand and pointed at the beer coming his way. "Ceasem Momentum!" the beer sparked and stopped mid-air. He opened it and had a drink. "Thanks! Still tastes like crap," he commented.
Morrigan rolled her eyes.
A door opened on the side of the room, and Eliot emerged, focused on his phone. He was reading a news article from the Daily Eyes about what happened at the Norris Mansion, written by Lovella Lincopines with a headline: NORRIS MANSION OBLITERATED—IS THE WIZARDING WORLD AT RISK?
Lillian, one of the villagers, said that nobody had heard or seen anything the night the tragic incident happened. Meanwhile, the Non-Magic Intelligence Agency (NMIA) assured the wizarding community that the secrecy of the wizarding world is still protected. The Non-Magic Intelligence Agency will be sending personnel to investigate the tragic death of the Norris family in the Magicless World.
An arm wrapped around his shoulders. He looked up and saw it was Jovial.
"Reading something interesting?" asked Jovial.
"About the Norris Mansion," Eliot replied casually, still glued to his phone.
"Ah! Your mission," replied Jovial. "Yes, the one you failed."
"Tragically," Grave added.
"Hilariously," said Crimson.
Eliot hid his phone. "Wow! Thanks for the reminders. You guys are the best!"
Morrigan sheathed her combat knife. "He doesn't have a clue, does he?"
Eliot raised an eyebrow. The mission failed; it happens just like any other mission. And the NMIA was already on it. So, it wasn't a total loss. But the guys were looking at him as though he were the most clueless man in the room.
He shook his head. "What was I supposed to do? They were going to kill that Magicless. I saved him."
"And learned nothing about the Brotherhood," said Jovial. "You failed the mission."
"Horribly," said Grave in the same tone as earlier.
"Amusingly," Crimson said.
Eliot jumped on the circular couch. "There are other ways to learn about the Brotherhood. One without sacrificing anyone."
"That's not the issue," said Morrigan with a heavy tone, as though implying he was being stupid.
"What then?"
"Bro," Jovial wrapped his arm around Eliot again, "that mission of yours is an assessment mission. You were a chosen candidate to become an Aegis."
Eliot thought, What the fu—
"I know! What the fuck, right?" Jovial interrupted.
Eliot raised both his hands. "I didn't know it was a field test. And even if I did know, I'd still save that Magicless. To hell with that title."
Morrigan punched him in the shoulder. "It's a privilege, dumbass! Don't be stupid," she said.
She had always been like that, very punchy. She may have been the only woman in the Shadow Pack, but she was also the craziest. In fact, her works spread like wildfire inside their organization. Things like: brutally crushing a criminal's face with her fist, breaking a criminal's hands to get answers, and the latest rumor was that she bit her enemy's ear off.
"Careful, Eliot. She might bite your ear off," Crimson teased, causing a burst of laughter in the room.
Morrigan rolled her eyes. "I did not bite anyone's ear off."
Eliot got it. He, himself, knew the weight of being an Aegis. He knew the great benefits of being one. His shoulder dropped as he breathed out. "I just wanna be one of you," he uttered. "A warlock."
Suddenly, the room fell into silence. It felt as though the ambience tensed up. What was weird was that it caused Niflheim to move from his quietude. He closed his book and grabbed his long, black leather coat.
"Walk with me, Eliot," he said, walking past everyone in the room nonchalantly.
Eliot stood up and grabbed his black cap before he followed his mid-long, silver-haired mentor out in the corridor to the glass-walled interconnecting passageway to the other side of the spiral-shaped building.
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"Nothing," Niflheim replied. "Just the image of Morrigan biting your ear off is just gruesome."
They reached the other side of the building and went straight to the café full of protectors in blue uniforms.
"Sir!" a protector saluted.
Niflheim acknowledged him with a smile, but he didn't stop walking. He went straight to the coffee machine. He grabbed an extra-large standard paper cup and placed it in before inserting a bronze coin to pour coffee.
Eliot stood there and watched while Niflheim remained quietly waiting at the vendo as it poured his coffee, which was ticking Eliot off because the barista could've whipped his wand and made coffee in a matter of seconds. It'll be a hundred times better than a cheap coffee in a paper cup, yet Niflheim always settled for a coffee from the vendo machine.
They walked out as soon as Niflheim got his drink. There were several protectors along the way, stopping to salute the silver-haired warlock.
"Aren't they annoying? Stopping in front of us to salute and then walk past us?"
"You could learn a thing or two from them, Eliot. Like, saluting to high-ranking officers such as me and the rest of the warlocks, and not lecturing them about what coffee they should or should not drink."
"Kiss my ass, Nif," Eliot laughed.
"I would, but I fear that'll ruin the taste of my coffee."
They reached the corridor upstairs after checking the security system on the thirty-sixth floor. And while walking through the corridor, Eliot began breaking the deafening silence.
"I just want to be one of you," he said.
"Jovial calls us 'handsome', are you not one of those?" Niflheim replied.
"I mean, I want to become one of the Shadow Pack."
"And to be one, you need to be a warlock, a master of the dark arts—a killer. A wizard who exchanged something for power," said Niflheim rather calmly. "You're not a warlock material, Eliot. Don't aspire to be one."
They were quiet for seconds before Niflheim spoke again.
"When I was still a recruit, I didn't know what my purpose was. The director saved my life just as I saved yours. And then—"
"And then you were trained to become the best wizard in the whole continent of Magicana. I know the story. Everyone knows the story. What's your point?"
Niflheim stopped in his tracks. "What's my purpose?"
Eliot was surprised by the sudden question, but he answered nonetheless. Niflheim always talked about it anyway. It was engraved in his head. Eliot raised a finger as he recited. "To protect humanity at all costs."
Niflheim smiled and raised an eyebrow. "And what's yours?"
"I—" Eliot stopped mid-sentence. What was his purpose? He knew he joined the Pack to avenge his sister, but what about after that?
Niflheim poked Eliot's chest. "Find your purpose. Let the pages unfold. Accept what is given to you."
Before Eliot could respond, Niflheim shoved him inside a closing elevator and waved. "I'll see you at the training grounds," he said as he vanished from the corridor. "And put on a sorry face!"
Eliot groaned. Meeting the angry director alone? What a terrible fate. The elevator reached the highest part of the building, and out he went.
Eliot tilted down his black cap to avoid being blinded by the lights and went straight to the director's office at the end of the hallway. One of the things he hated the most about visiting the director's office was the overly lit-up hallway. You can almost see the bones of anyone you come across in these halls.
He was just about to knock when the door opened itself for him.
Inside the office, Director Lim sat on his chair, typing something on his laptop. He looked serious again. He always looked serious and scary. Maybe it was included with the job description? Maybe he needed to look scary so his subordinates would follow his orders?
Eliot sat on the couch that was perfectly aligned with the director's table. It was a comfortable chair, clearly of high quality and expense. Now that he thought about it, even though Eliot did not care much for the interior design of any room, the awkward silence made him look around.
It was still as fancy as before. It still wasn't his type.
There were huge plants placed on every corner. There were new books on the bookshelves behind the director's desk. Eliot looked up and saw a spiral chandelier hanging above. It was the first time he saw those chandeliers. The floor was covered with black carpet, which he liked. Almost all the furniture was made from the most expensive woods available in the market.
"Protector Eliot Reeve," said the director, eyeing his monitor.
"Sir?"
"What the hell happened?"
Eliot sat straight and began recounting the details of his mission in Pleasant Village from beginning to end. And the director's frown did not falter.
"So you mean to tell me that you failed to capture any of the targets, failed to acquire any useful information, and you brought a Magicless in Terravir?"
"Yes. But—"
"But? But what? Do you understand the repercussions of this?" Director Lim's finger stabbed the wooden desk, "Councilor Umbaña gave us one job, a simple task! We could lose funding! Plus, the Leovirs are still trying to find ways to completely eradicate humanity's sit in the Regent Council—to regulate magic for god's sake! They could use this as an excuse! They could use the troubles caused by the Brotherhood as an excuse, evidence even! To say that wizards are a danger to Magicana. And now, you brought a Magicless in Magicana. That is a threat to the secrecy of this world!"
"Sir, I don't think he's a magicless," Eliot said.
A moment of silence wrapped the room until Eliot broke the silence, "He was struck by a curse and was supposed to die, but he didn't. I hexed him with a memory charm, but there was no effect."
"How is that possible?"
Eliot shrugged his shoulders. "After he lost consciousness, I tried to chase the attackers, but I couldn't leave him in the forest. And when I tried to carry him, I got thrown by some energy that came from him."
A knock on the door interrupted Eliot. A woman in a lab coat entered. It was Doctor Ortega.
"Director, I think you should see our Magicless," the doctor said.
A moment wasn't wasted. Eliot and Director Lim went to the lab where Rei was lying on a white-covered bed.
"Extraordinary!" said the director while staring at the monitors in the observation room.
"We've done some tests," said Dr. Ortega. "This is the first time I've seen such an incredible amount of mana. It might be even higher than Eliot's"
"And it is leaking, yes?" asked the director.
"I'm afraid so."
The director grabbed his wand and flicked it in the air. A ball of light appeared in front of him.
"Karen," he called.
"Yes, Director Lim?" a voice sounded from the floating orb.
"Call the dean of Nesting Peak, set an appointment, and tell him I have a gift."
"Yes, Director. Right away, Director."
"Protector Eliot Reeve." Director Lim faced Eliot. "I have an assignment for you. This time, don't fail."
The director directed his attention back to Rei, and then a grin formed on his face.