The silence thickens in the room, and I do my best to blend into the background.
Honestly, this isn't my problem.
Northern Forest? Dragon king? That's way above my pay grade, and nothing good comes from anything starting with "dragon king." Nothing.
So let the old-timers handle it. I'm the youngest here, right? Youth comes with perks, like not getting roped into overly serious business.
But my perfect plan to stay invisible crashes spectacularly when the first man slams his fist on the table. I jump, caught off guard.
"Explain yourself, Barten!" he thunders, his face red with anger. "Your guild was supposed to wipe out the dragons generations ago! How are they still around?"
All eyes turn to Barten, a man with an unruffled air. He doesn't flinch and replies in a calm, almost bored tone.
"Tch… Dragons vanished over a century ago. If a new dragon king's popped up, it's from somewhere else. Maybe a neighboring region, maybe another magical plane. Either way, it's not my guild's fault." He pauses, locking eyes with the other man. "And I won't let you suggest otherwise."
The tension's thick. But the second woman steps in.
"Enough!" she snaps sharply. "This isn't the time for pointless bickering. We've got a bigger problem to solve."
Her words cool things down, and the two men look away, muttering under their breath.
The first woman speaks up next. "A dragon king… This complicates things," she murmurs, almost to herself. Her fingers glide over the table's glossy surface as she continues, "The Northern Forest was already an unstable zone."
I stifle a yawn.
Honestly, they don't need me for this. There are plenty of them, and I've got nothing to add anyway.
My mind starts to wander, and my eyelids grow heavy. A quick nap wouldn't hurt, right? They're all too focused to notice.
I let my head rest gently on my hand, my thoughts drifting to calmer places. But before I can fully zone out, a sharp jolt to my back snaps me back to reality.
I nearly fall off my chair, my nap cut short in the most brutal way.
Turning, I see the first man staring at me, a smug grin on his face. Of course it's him. Who else would dare shake me like that?
"Magister Roskales, what's your take?" he asks, dead serious.
Huh? Me? My foggy brain scrambles in panic.
Why me? Why now? I glance around, but every eye's on me. Even old Barten, usually so aloof, looks curious. The first woman just watches, a barely-there smile on her lips.
She knows. She knows I'm totally lost.
"Uh…" I clear my throat, stalling. "Well… I mean…"
They keep waiting, their piercing stares piling on pressure I didn't ask for. My brain's running on empty, desperate for something clever to say. But let's be real: a dragon king? Not my thing at all.
So, I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind:
"…I think it's a good idea to… not provoke a dragon. You know, because of the fire."
Silence crashes over the room. My face burns, certain I just said the dumbest thing possible.
Then, out of nowhere, Barten bursts out laughing. "You're not wrong, kid. Not wrong at all."
I sit up, faking confidence. Maybe I'll get out of this after all. But inside, one thought screams: This is the last time I come to one of these meetings.
The silence lingers after my answer, almost tangible in the massive meeting room. My heart's pounding so loud I swear everyone can hear it. Still, I try to keep a calm face, like I've got everything under control. Maybe, with some luck, they'll forget this awkward moment fast.
But of course, life's never that kind to me.
"Interesting, Magister Roskales," the first woman says suddenly, her voice clear and composed. Her smile widens just a bit, and I don't like the mischievous glint in her eye. "You seem to have a certain… philosophy about dragons. Care to elaborate?"
Why's it always her trying to bury me? Of course I don't have a "philosophy" about dragons. My fire-and-caution comment was a desperate attempt to fill the silence, not some master strategy.
"Well, uh…" I stammer, scrambling for words, but she cuts me off before I can dig myself deeper.
"Actually, I have an idea." Her eyes gleam in a way I don't like at all. She crosses her arms and tilts her head, sizing me up. "You say we shouldn't provoke a dragon. That's an interesting take. So maybe you, with your… refreshing wisdom, should handle this crisis."
"Me?" I nearly topple out of my chair, floored by her absurd suggestion.
"Why not?" she counters, her tone light as a breeze. "You seem to think it's simple."
The silence in the room grows even heavier. I look around for support, but the other council members' faces are fixed on me with almost cruel curiosity. Even Barten, who was laughing moments ago, now seems genuinely interested in my response.
"That's not my job," I protest weakly, grasping for an out. "I'm here to represent my guild, not go on crazy adventures."
But she doesn't let up. She taps the table with her fingertips, her smile still frozen on her face. "Then let's make a bet."
A bet? That word alone makes me want to bolt.
"If you manage this crisis on your own, without the Association's help," she starts slowly, "we'll let you skip all our meetings for good."
A shiver runs down my spine. It's tempting, almost too good to be true. No more endless, pointless debates, no more condescending looks… But there's a catch. There's always a catch.
"And if I fail?" I ask, my voice barely audible.
"Then," she says with a triumphant smile, "you'll be in charge of organizing all our meetings for the next ten years."
I swallow hard. Organizing meetings? That sounds worse than attending them.
I hear myself reply, almost like it's not me talking: "Deal."
A murmur ripples through the room. The woman looks almost surprised, but her smile widens. "Perfect. We have an agreement."
And just like that, I've doomed myself to a colossal mess.
The first man, who teased me earlier, bursts out laughing. "Magister Roskales, you just signed up for the worst mission ever. But who knows, maybe you'll surprise us?"
I roll my eyes, but inside, I'm teetering on despair. Handle a crisis with a dragon king? Me? The guy who can barely show up to a meeting on time?
The meeting drags on, but I can't focus on anything. My mind's too busy picturing all the ways this could go wrong. One thing's for sure: I'm screwed.