Not many adventurers make it past their twenties in the land of Leo'Nux, let alone into their thirties. However, one such stroke of luck has graced the former guild meister of the renowned group known as the Candleravens. He goes by the name 'The Grand Magus of Time,' Merlin—a smug and self-conceited mage who hides behind his grand alias and title to draw more attention to his exploits than to the sad, lonely man he truly is.

Though the Candleravens have faced world-ending threats and fought armies of disgruntled monsters from the abyss, nothing prepared the guild meister for the challenge he's facing at this very moment.

"Come on," he muttered in frustration, his pen still shakily poised on the first letter of his sentence. "Surely it can't be this hard, can it?" Impatience was overtaking him, leaving him at a loss for words. After documenting hundreds of records of their past experiences and adventures, he couldn't even summon a single word to begin his writing journey.

"Ah, screw it," he muttered, crumpling the piece of paper in exasperation and tossing it aside. Burying his face in his palms, Merlin's overworked mind struggled to catch a break, a constant since his retirement. In moments like these, his thoughts often drifted elsewhere, and the idea of a morning coffee seemed like just the thing to help with his frustration.

With a stretch and a deep sigh, Merlin rose from his seat, arching his back to relieve the tension from sitting in one spot for nearly an hour. First things first, he headed to the bathroom, splashing his face with cold water for a quick morning jolt. Staring at his reflection in the mirror, he looked for any signs of change that might stand out.

His hair, neatly kempt and slick as always, remained untroubled—no chance of it getting any greyer. His skin, still smooth and pristine, offered little to worry about. But his eyes... they looked tired and worn, the once vibrant purple glow slowly dulling with fatigue. Nothing a little magic couldn't fix. With a snap of his fingers, Merlin's eyes returned to their youthful luster, the warmth and vitality rekindled.

"Perfect," he said with a satisfied smile. "Can't run into any of those fools looking like a slob." With his morning routine complete, Merlin made his way to the kitchen. On his way there, he suddenly heard a knock on his front door.

He paused, listening carefully. A series of impatient knocks followed, growing louder with each rap. Merlin growled in irritation at the early morning disturbance. Striding to the door, he peered through the peephole and saw a young boy standing outside, clutching a bundle of papers.

The boy looked directly at the peephole, waving and smiling. "I can see you, mister! I've got papers for you because you're subscribed to the daily mai—" he started to say, but was cut off as Merlin swung open the door, fixing the boy with a stern gaze.

"What do you mean you can see me?" Merlin asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're casting a shadow, mister," the boy explained, slightly spooked but trying to remain polite. "I could see it moving from under the door frame." He quickly added, "Anyway, I was sent to deliver these papers as part of your subscription to the Leo'Nux daily mailing service for all your newspaper needs—"

Before the boy could finish, Merlin snapped his fingers, teleporting the stack of newspapers behind him. "Thank you. Bye!" he interrupted, slamming the door shut.

"Hey! That was very rude—" the boy started to protest, but was cut off by a puff of magic that appeared in his palm, revealing a gold coin. "O-oh. Thanks, I guess?" The boy said, both confused and grateful.

"Hmph. I'd actually forgotten I'd subscribed to this," Merlin mused, staring at the bundle of newspapers now in his path. "Maybe it was Ink's idea, but nevertheless, I guess it wouldn't hurt to stay updated on the world." Without wasting another second, the magus carried the bundle to the kitchen and continued his usual ritual.

With a bag of fragrant, authentic Cakişova beans, Merlin inhaled the rich aroma and poured some into a cup. "Just the right amount," he muttered to himself before stopping.

"Perfection!" he declared, proud of his morning accomplishment. With a snap of his fingers, a magical hand materialized, grabbing a newspaper from the bundle while another hand fetched a chair for him to relax on. Merlin took a sip of his coffee and settled into the chair, just in time for the magical hand to place the newspaper in front of him.

This was the retired life Merlin had always wanted: a quiet setting to enjoy and put everything he had learned from his journey to good use. Speaking of good use...

"Ugh, this coffee is too cold," he grumbled, contemplating the issue until an idea popped into his head. He chuckled softly, holding up a finger.

"Come on, I know I still got it," Merlin said, channeling some magical energy into his finger until it glowed bright yellow. "There we go, haha!"Before performing his lazy trick, Merlin glanced around to ensure no prying eyes were watching. After all, this was a world brimming with magic, and the last thing he wanted was to attract any curious arcane observers or nosy strangers. Once satisfied, he slowly plunged his heated finger into the cup, letting out a tiny sizzle as he stirred the coffee.

As unsightly as it looked, Merlin couldn't be bothered with the details. It was just him in this abode, after all—no one to scold him for his unconventional method. Finishing, he took one sip from his now heated coffee and then—"BLEH!" Merlin spat out, his tongue scorched by the coffee and the unpleasant, burnt aftertaste. "Ugh, guess I'll never try that again."Frustrated by a string of morning mishaps, Merlin turned his attention to the newspaper he had just received. He skimmed through, avoiding political news and focusing instead on gossip and his crossword puzzle.

An article about the Candleravens caught his eye. Although he had intended to skip guild news, a tinge of pride made him curious. To his surprise, the guild was hosting an anniversary party that evening. Merlin frowned. Surely, he should have known about this—or been invited. The article read: 

The Candleravens: Celebrating 25 Years of Triumph

LEO'NUX — In a grand display of camaraderie and honor, the Candleravens, the renowned guild of heroes and misfits alike, marks the 25th anniversary of their historic victory over the Abyss with a spectacular celebration!

This event will be held at the heart of the guild's bustling headquarters, The Star! Barrel Disco and is inviting any fellow adventurers and dignitaries from across the land! The festivities includes a ceremonial reenactment of the final battle, a series of inspiring speeches, and a spectacular fireworks display that will light up the evening sky. See you there!

Merlin's foot tapped impatiently. It made him frustrated to learn about this from a newspaper rather than a proper invitation. Determined to uncover what was amiss, he knew he had to get ready for the party at The Star! Barrel Disco that evening. Whether he's invited or not.

"Those punks." He muttered, tossing the newspaper aside in frustration.