The café bell rings softly as the door swings open. My gaze, almost instinctively, shifts to the entrance. I don't have to search for long. Mira has arrived, and as always, she looks like she just stepped out of a painting.
An elegant black coat draped over her shoulders, a flawlessly braided ponytail cascading down her back. She's right on time, of course. Mira is never late.
Me, on the other hand—I've been here for half an hour already. Too nervous to wait at home, I left my apartment way too early, unable to contain a strange mix of excitement and apprehension. Mira never invites me out. Not for casual meetups, anyway. She prefers to keep things strictly professional, and that's always been the dynamic between us: mentor and student.
So, an invitation for coffee? That's about as rare as a windless day in autumn.
Seated by the window, I fidget with the corner of the menu, folding and unfolding the edge of the paper absentmindedly. My eyes can't seem to settle on anything but her. When she reaches my table, she gives me a subtle nod as a greeting.
"You've been here a while, haven't you?" she asks in that neutral, measured tone of hers.
I clear my throat, caught off guard.
"Not too long," I shrug, trying to sound casual.
Mira pulls out the chair across from me and sits down. Once settled, she picks up the menu and begins flipping through it leisurely.
Meanwhile, I can't relax. I spent a year under her guidance, and yet, her presence still puts me on edge.
"It's nice of you to think of inviting your godson," I say finally, breaking the silence and masking my nervousness with a faint smile.
She glances up from the menu, her sharp gaze piercing right through me.
"'Godson' is a bit of an overstatement," she replies coolly. "But I suppose it's not entirely inaccurate."
I raise an eyebrow, puzzled. What's she getting at?
She sets the menu down, crosses her arms with practiced grace, and continues, her expression as unreadable as ever.
"You're not really my godson anymore."
I freeze. What does she mean by that? Since I joined the Wardens—the organization tasked with maintaining order against threats far beyond what ordinary people could handle—Mira has been my assigned mentor. She's guided me, trained me, corrected me, sometimes harshly. But today…
"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice tinged with uncertainty.
She holds my gaze for a moment longer, as if gauging my reaction, before she answers.
"In one year, you've risen to an A-rank Warden, same as me. And if things keep progressing the way they are, you won't need many more missions to reach S-rank."
Silence falls over the table. My throat tightens slightly, and my mind struggles to process what she just said.
S-rank. The elite of the elite.
I know my recent missions went well, but I never imagined Mira would see me as her equal.
"It's… it's because of you," I stammer after a moment. "You're an incredible mentor."
I still want to be your protégé...
I thought I'd seen every side of Mira, but what happened next caught me completely off guard.
A smile—a real smile, though barely perceptible—flickered across her face for just a moment.
I'm left speechless. It's the first time I've ever seen her show such emotion.
"You're not wrong," she said, her voice laced with a hint of mischief.
Before I could respond, the waitress arrived at our table, cutting through the moment.
Mira turned to her, her usual impassive demeanor snapping back into place as she placed her order.
Once the waitress left, having set down our drinks, I found myself staring at my still-steaming cup. Mira sat perfectly poised, her hands resting gracefully on the table.
Finally, she broke the silence. "So, your last mission. How did it go?"
I straightened up, caught off guard. "Pretty well." A pause. I searched for the right words. "It was a rescue mission… not too different from the others, but… the context was a bit more complicated."
One of her eyebrows arched slightly. I took a deep breath and decided to elaborate.
"We were tasked with extracting a group of hostages from an old building. The problem was the environment. It was right in the middle of a busy neighborhood. Lots of civilians nearby, and the captors had rigged the place with traps to deter any intervention."
She nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing slightly. "And how did you handle it?"
"We took our time. Secured the perimeter without alarming the civilians, neutralized the traps one by one… and finally got the hostages out without a single loss."
Her gaze locked onto mine, sharp and probing. "No collateral damage?"
I shook my head, unable to hide a small surge of pride. "None. Everything went according to plan. The team was exceptional, and I did my best to coordinate our efforts."
She remained silent for a moment, her eyes still fixed on me, before finally giving a subtle nod. "An urban mission," she said at last, her tone pragmatic.
"It's never simple. Civilians become both obstacles and responsibilities. But it sounds like you handled it the right way."
Her words hit harder than they should. I could sense a rare hint of validation in her comment, and coming from Mira, that wasn't something to take lightly. Yet, I didn't want to dwell on my accomplishments.
"I heard you were on a mission recently," I say cautiously. "With the Magister, no less."
Her expression shifts ever so slightly, her face adopting an even more neutral façade. Still, I catch a fleeting spark of exasperation in her eyes.
"Yes. I just returned three days ago. It was… a complicated mission."
I tilt my head, intrigued. "With the Magister, huh? He almost never leaves headquarters. Must've been serious."
She gives a slight nod, but her gaze drifts off, as if fixating on some invisible point beyond the café window.
"What's your opinion of our Magister?"
I'm caught off guard. The Magister? I didn't see that one coming. My thoughts race, scrambling for an answer that doesn't sound either foolish or overly naïve.
The truth is, I don't really know the Magister. Not personally, anyway. I saw him once during the induction ceremony after I joined the guild, but that was about it. He certainly looked impressive that day, commanding a presence befitting a leader. But beyond that?
"Well…" I pause, crossing my arms in a vain attempt to hide my discomfort. "I don't have a strong opinion, honestly. All I know is what I've heard."
Mira tilts her head slightly, waiting.
"He's young—really young for a Magister. But if they chose him for the role, it's probably not just favoritism, even if his father was the previous Magister…" I weigh my words carefully. "He must be an incredibly powerful and intelligent mage to have earned the title so quickly."
I glance at Mira, searching for any reaction. She remains stoic, though there's a faint tension in her eyes.
"And you? What's he really like? I mean, you just spent time with him on a mission. What's he like?"
Mira picks up her cup, takes a sip, then sets it down gently on the saucer. Crossing her arms, she looks at me with a perfectly serious expression and says:
"He's lazy."
I freeze, my eyes wide. "L-Lazy?" I chuckle nervously, thinking she must be joking. But her face remains utterly serious. "Wait, you can't be serious."
"Dead serious," she replies, raising an eyebrow. "The Magister is brilliant, I'll give him that. But he much prefers delegating his responsibilities to his subordinates rather than tackling them himself."
I'm completely floored. "But… but how is that even possible?! He's the head of the guild! He's supposed to set an example for all of us!"
Mira locks eyes with me, a faintly amused smile tugging at her lips. "Exactly. He's a perfect example... of what not to do."
I set my cup down, my fingers gripping the warm porcelain tightly.
Mira isn't the type to exaggerate, so why such a harsh take on the Magister? Spreading rumors or spinning tales isn't her style. My gaze narrows, searching her face for any cracks in her stoic demeanor, but her expression is as sealed as a locked vault.
"Mira… what exactly happened on that mission?" I finally ask.
Her sharp eyes flick toward me, and for a split second, I catch a glint of mischief in them. She leans back in her chair, crossing her legs with a natural elegance.
"The Council tasked the Magister with neutralizing an A-ranked Malefic—a particularly dangerous mage hiding out in a remote village. But… given the severity of the situation, Elder Libel decided to send me and two other Wardens to assist him."
An A-ranked Malefic? That's no joke.
"And?" I press, leaning forward.
Mira exhales softly, folding her arms. "That's when everything became crystal clear. The rumors are true: the Magister is a bona fide slacker."
I gape at her. "But… how?"
"He sat back and watched while we did all the work," Mira says, her tone a mix of exasperation and amusement. "While we were strategizing, he was… picking flowers. Literally."
I blink, stunned into silence. Mira's lips curve into a faint smile—it's the third time today, and I'm still not used to it.
"But wait, here's the kicker," she continues. "When the Malefic revealed her true form, and things got critical, he finally decided to step in."
I straighten in my seat, hanging on her every word. "What did he do?"
Mira arches a brow. "He neutralized her with a single spell. Just one. A piece of plant-based magic so intricate, it left everyone speechless."
Taking down an A-ranked Malefic with one spell?
"And do you know what he said afterward?" Mira asks, her voice laced with dry irony.
I shake my head, clueless.
She mimics a casual tone. "Oh, that wasn't so hard after all. You guys probably could've handled it without me, right?"
A nervous laugh escapes me, but Mira doesn't laugh. Instead, she shakes her head slightly, her features hardening.
"I don't know whether to be in awe or completely outraged," she admits. "He's a genius, no doubt about it. He can manipulate forms of magic most mages can't even comprehend. And yet… he just doesn't care. Sometimes, it feels like the heavens bless the most indifferent of us."
I sit in silence for a moment, trying to process what she's just told me. The Magister—a symbol of authority and power—reduced to a… prodigious slacker? It's almost too absurd to believe.
Mira finally breaks the silence. "That's why I wanted to talk to you directly."
I look up, intrigued. "Talk to me? Why?"
Her gaze hardens slightly, and her tone grows more serious. "Because you've been promoted."
A chill runs down my spine. Promoted? My thoughts race. "But… that's good news, right? Why do you sound like it's a curse?"
To be continued!
Next Chapter: Choice or Choice