October 20th, 5AC

“Good evening, lady, gentlemen.” His intent echoed his words, deliberately pressed outward on the three men and a woman sitting across the table from Timothy. An important detail because two of them didn’t communicate in English. The Frenchmen by choice, not inability, but the small Chinese lady was a different story.

The words that returned to him were jumbled between the three languages, but the intent was as clear as could be. Good evening, Runefather.

Timothy grimaced. The echo was going to get old, so… In deference to our varied origins, let’s continue on this level, yes?

He traced a jagged-edged sigil in the air, referencing and linking to a larger concept enshrined in his mind palace. Looping tethers of will emerged from his soul and struck out like snakes. Latching conceptual fangs into their auras. A flow developed, from them to him, then back out to the rest. It wasn’t something his older students needed anymore, but new intakes kept him in practice.

With another gesture, four glittering streams emerged from a plump coin purse, arcing through the air to pile neatly in front of each of them. Fifteen in sync soft clinks of stone on stone. The embossed U of the Union on one side, the dollar sign rune for money on the other.

Payment offered for your time, but with strings attached. I expect and require your complete discretion. I am an Origin. Break this obligation to me at your own peril. His will surged out, ruthless certainty on full display.

They flinched.

All four reeled backward before the smallest trickle of bloodlust. They were not jungle runners. They were barely guardians at all. Awakened by their respective Origins, but surviving on odd jobs and teaching, rarely combat. But each had some experience, academic or practical, in civil service before the change. And so they were hired to teach it.

They were quite a bit cheaper than a guardian of standing would be. An important factor when the students were doing the paying. It also meant they were uniquely situated to help him. If they could reach an understanding.

Is it…? Timothy waved Hargile down, the grey-bearded older man was tall, skinny and had the absent-minded look of a true blue academic. Needing only a sports jacket with patched elbows to complete the image.

No, it’s not illegal. What I require will involve disclosing information on the Pathfinder Class’s final exam. You will understand, I trust, how unhappy I would be at anyone who ruined it by giving forewarning. He didn’t bother to mention giving away answers. Not because this lot would turn down good coin, but simply because they wouldn’t be able to.

Ah. Still… Argile stood up, a bit shakily but with a half smile on his face. I’m old enough to know when the waters are too deep for me to swim. He paused then grinned widely. And I’ve never been able to hold my tongue when in my cups. A location I find myself in far too often these days. I thank you for the work you’ve already offered me, but I’ll bow out now.

Almost habitually Timothy caught the offered thanks, twisted and bound it. The man was a bit of a fool, but at least he knew his own limitations. Timothy tugged on the obligation briefly, causing the man’s eyes to bulge and panic to color the links. You did the job I paid you for. No less, no more. Leave with no obligations and no expectations. But do be careful how you express gratitude. Or who you express it to.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

He let the connection fray and fall to pieces. Both obligation and tether of communication. The shaken man stumbled backward in shock a few paces, staring at Timothy wide-eyed, then turned and stumbled out of the room.

Timothy turned to the remaining three. Will you stay, or follow his example? Self-awareness is an excellent survival trait.

Time passed. Seconds ticked by as Timothy waited impassively, watching as eyes darted between coin and door. Faces and aura’s in open conflict between most of a week's pay and the dangers of knowing a wizard's secrets.

In the end, the minute passed and the coin won. With a gesture, the door behind them slammed shut and a divination ward flared to life. Plume, the rightmost seat, levitated out of it, much to Timothy’s secret amusement. The first sound in the room in the nearly silent room in quite some time. His artfully curled mustache bristled as he chewed absently at one now ragged end.

With a shuddering sigh, he spoke. "Les oiseaux se tuent pour la nourriture, les hommes pour de l'argent."

Mingzhu raised a confused eyebrow. Timothy considered, then shrugged. Why not? “Niǎo wèi shí wáng, rén wèi cái sǐ.” His pronunciation wasn’t great, but his intent papered over the cracks. Birds die for food, humans for wealth.

She barked out a spat of nervous laughter, rubbed her face then having made her decision, nodded.

With a few swipes, the coins disappeared from the table. Three stacks into much skinnier coin purses, and the third back into its bulging origin.

I have an opportunity for you. A partial favor for me and a great experience for you as well. One you would likely never have access to otherwise. The final test I mentioned is a simulated life. A mostly blank slate, where who and what you are affects who you will be, but it will be a new start. Kobayashi, the spirit who proctors this test, needs a better understanding of government, how civilian morale and the difference between good and bad laws affect a Hold.

I’m offering you a chance to experience this test ahead of time. As you live through it, your assumptions, expectations and reactions will affect and change future scenarios. This is an opportunity for you to shape the future power players of the entire Union.

Timothy paused. Making eye contact with each of them in turn. Lightly tasting their responses. Hope, Gratification, and more than a touch of nerves. Not too surprising really. Each of them had once been someone. The speechwriter to a popular French politician, a mayor's hatchet woman and a union rep. Now they were barely above the nothings.

That was the better, now the bitter. You get to contribute. But you are far from the only ones. A half dozen Origins, Hold leaders in their own rights, will also be contributing. For that matter, your personal politics are… different? The word really didn’t cover it, and neither did the amused intent that underlaid it. He’d asked the Union to provide these teachers. Merely asking them to keep the price down for the student's sake and to give as wide a net of ideals and preconceptions as possible.

They’d exceeded his expectations by an order of magnitude in that regard.

A fact clearly felt through the link. Timothy couldn’t say he particularly liked any of them. But that was somewhat the point. They were there to teach the class about human nature as much as how to govern. How better to do that than to see, even in your teachers, massive differences of opinion?

Runefather. Mingzhu gave a half bow. This one is shamed to ask, but will we be compensated?

I will balance the scales. He let his meaning ring down the connections. Not a promise of payment, but an entire conversation and a promise in a few simple words. What he was offering could be life-changing for them. Offering self-understanding and a wake-up call. A view of where they were headed and perhaps an opportunity to find something better. Or it could offer only pain and loss. Emotional and physical. Not everyone was strong enough to bear looking at themselves with enforced truth.

Either way, he would make sure that there were no lingering obligations. If they received little, he would pay them. If they received a great deal, he would let them pay back any debts that they perceived.

In no case would he let them leave in a worse case than they came.

Speaking glances traveled between them. Strangers only a few months before yet somehow now united in their subpar state, if in nothing else.

We accept.