It's been a week since I took down that raider, and let me tell you, it was no walk in the park.
The Association's finally eased off a bit, and I'm ready to make the most of it.
Ah, the good life!
Just me, my couch, and a movie marathon. Yup, you heard right: today's movie night… in the middle of the day!
So what? Pull all the curtains, block out any daring rays of sunlight sneaking into the room, and boom! Instant cinema vibe, my style.
I settle in, feet up on the coffee table, a huge box of popcorn within reach, and dive into a classic superhero flick.
Honestly, nothing beats this! These spandex-clad heroes busting their butts to save the world—it's comedy gold. They take it so seriously, like they've got no choice, like it's their destiny. But me? I know it's a massive hassle. Why they seem to enjoy it is a mystery I'll probably never crack.
As I sink deeper into my couch, savoring every second of this me-time, a figure suddenly steps right between me and the TV.
Seriously?
Can't I get a break for two minutes?
I keep my cool, though. I'm a chill guy, I won't flip out. I tilt my head to try to catch the screen, but the figure moves with me, like it's on purpose.
A challenge? Alright, let's play!
I lean right, she follows. Left, she's there too. I try again. Right, left, right, left… no dice, she's matching me.
This shadow's stubborn! But she doesn't know my resolve.
I keep at it, swinging my head side to side, over and over. I'm tough!
Then, to my dismay, the figure goes nuclear: she calmly walks to the TV and… unplugs it.
That's cheating!
How dare she? I'm speechless for a second, stunned.
"Zayn, what day is it, anyway?" the figure asks, sounding borderline impatient.
Oh… by the way, this buzzkill ruining my peace is none other than Aunt Libel.
Always showing up at the worst time, ready to yank me out of my tranquility.
I look up at her, still half in disbelief.
She really came all this way to ask what day it is? Doesn't she know smartphones exist? I mean, she's not *that* old! Sure, she's got that old-school vibe, but that doesn't justify barging in on my home movie session.
I scratch my head, fishing for a reason, an excuse, any explanation for this sudden interruption… but nothing. Nothing logical, at least.
"Honestly, nothing urgent today," I venture, trying to sound as innocent as possible. "I deserve a little downtime, right? Just one chill day…"
She gives me a look. One of those looks that could freeze a desert. Her deep, annoyed sigh makes me feel like she's about to implode from frustration. "Really, Zayn? You forgot about the guild leaders' meeting today?"
Ouch. The meeting. The one with all the big shots, the top dogs, that drags on for hours. It hits me like a sledgehammer, and a wave of fuzzy memories crashes over me.
Yeah… now that I think about it, there was that big meeting today. But between my comfy couch and the movie marathon, it slipped my mind.
"Oh, uh… yeah. The meeting," I mumble, wincing. "Totally spaced on that."
Libel eyes me with a mix of weariness and irony. She doesn't seem surprised, honestly. And I just want to hide under the couch like a kid caught red-handed.
She crosses her arms, her silence heavier than any lecture. I know what she's waiting for—she wants me to get up and comply.
"Alright, alright!" I raise my hands in surrender, resigned. "I'll get ready… but seriously, couldn't this meeting wait till tomorrow?"
Aunt Libel bursts out laughing, patting my shoulder in a kind but slightly mocking way. "Come on, Zayn," she says, shaking her head. "You'll have plenty of time to slack off later. But today, you've gotta be serious."
I let out a long, drawn-out sigh. She's right, of course. Might as well get to it. But that doesn't stop me from dragging my feet like a sulky kid. I shuffle toward my room, casting longing glances at my couch.
---
The meeting room is massive.
Huge windows let in slivers of light that spill across the large central table, surrounded by heavy, carved wooden chairs. The walls, decked with stern paintings of wild landscapes. But despite the solemn vibe, I can't help feeling a twinge of boredom.
Then a hand lands on my shoulder with a friendly pat. I turn to see a man with a sly grin, who greets me with, "Magister Rosales, on time today!"
A sarcastic smile creeps onto my face.
"Be glad I've got a devil of an aunt to force me here," I mutter back. At this point, without her, I wouldn't even be here.
Across from me, a woman watches quietly, a small smile on her lips. She tilts her head slightly. "Must be Elder Libel who got you here on time," she whispers, as perceptive as ever, like she's reading my secrets.
A burst of laughter echoes through the room. Another man, jovial and carefree, jokes, "So, what's on the agenda?"
I hold back an exasperated sigh.
Really, these meetings… Outsiders probably imagine the country's warden guild leaders gather for tense talks, grave decisions, life-or-death choices.
If only they knew… Nothing here's truly serious. Our debates often go in circles, endless discussions that lead nowhere concrete. Sometimes, I'll admit, the exchanges get entertaining. Last time, we ended up playing a board game. Not exactly mind-blowing, trust me.
So why these meetings? Good question.
The answer's simple and dull: the Association. That looming institution mandates a quota of annual gatherings to supposedly "foster relations and share info." As if they genuinely believe our guilds grow stronger through this ritual.
If it were up to me, I'd be far from here, doing something actually useful—or at least fun.
But my thoughts are cut short when a woman at the far end of the table claps her hands. The sound echoes, grabbing everyone's attention.
"This time, there's a real serious issue," she declares gravely.
Oh, sure, like that'll make this meeting riveting.
Faces turn toward her with a hint of interest, but I stay skeptical. Every meeting, we're promised "serious" topics, only for it to fizzle into pointless debates or overblown concerns.
The first man grimaces, clearly annoyed. "You sure know how to kill the vibe," he grumbles, crossing his arms.
But the first woman, ever attentive, leans forward slightly. "What's the issue?"
(A/N: He doesn't remember their names.)
Before the second woman can reply, the second man jumps in. "The Northern Forest has a new king, right?"
The woman who asked glares at him, brow raised. "You knew and you're not even worried?"
He shrugs. "It's too early to freak out," he says lightly. "We don't even have all the details. No need to panic, honestly."
Now the first man gets serious. He frowns and leans forward. "It's still surprising a king showed up so fast. It hasn't even been half a century since the last one died."
The first woman nods. "True," she murmurs, thoughtful. "That's unusual."
The second woman speaks again, her tone even more solemn.
"That's not all. This king… is a dragon."
Silence falls over the room.