“Let’s clear up some common misconceptions about your new job while you’re still on the train, Mr. Adley.”

I stared out the window of the train’s only passenger coach as I remarked, “I’m going to be running a boarding school for underage wizards. I’m not so sure what the misconceptions that would need to be cleared up would be.”

The serious-looking, somewhat vulpine woman who’d served me a summons for the job informed me, “The fact of the matter is that providing a good education for the students of Red Point Magic Academy needs to only be your third priority. You of all people should know magic is dangerous. Couple that with wizards too young to properly comprehend the consequences of their actions, and you’ve got a recipe for disaster.”

It took both of me a couple moments to piece together what she was saying.

“Then why in the world are you putting so many underage wizards together in one place? From the sound of it the entire school is like a massive warehouse of combustibles, waiting for the slightest spark to touch it off!”

Reese answered, “Because we’d rather have them all where we can monitor them, rather than in the middle of a populated area where they could get any number of innocent people killed. Red Point Magic Academy is purposely located more than fifty miles from any area with a population density greater than five people per square mile. In the event of a disaster, casualties outside the school’s occupants will be minimal.”

I looked at the envelope still sitting on my lap, the beige of the summons envelope contrasting with the blue-grey and brass buttons of my long coat in a much more somber way than it had before.

“What happened to the last person who had this job?”

“He had a mental break from the stress after a decade. Fortunately the security staff managed to calm him down, but it was clear he couldn’t keep the place running anymore. He’ll be leaving on the train as soon as you arrive.”

Looking at Reese dead on, I asked, “One last question: why me, specifically? I’ve been doing administrative work for a magical incident insurance company.”

Reese’s tail stiffened for a moment, before she answered, “It was thought that an Archmage such as yourself would be more suited to the task at hand, especially given your particular talents.”

Ah yes, that. Figures they’d resort to someone with that particular skill set given the enormity of the task at hand.

That’s when I noticed a shift in the tone of the locomotive, the rotor in the alchemical cyclone engine clearly slowing down. None of the charm of steam, no matter the efficiency. As the train pulled to a stop, I noted, “It’s been nice speaking to you, Reese.”

A couple minutes later I was on the platform, watching as a nearly catatonic old man was wheeled to the passenger coach on a gurney. Staring at him, I asked, “Is that my predecessor?”

“Yes that’s old Humbernot, Headmaster Adley. He just couldn’t take it anymore.”

I turned to see a tall muscular black man, his dark-skinned hands contrasting strongly with my own as we shook.

“Please, call me Adrian. And you are?”

He smiled, “Jethro Abraham Rug, head of the custodial staff. Though given some of the messes we have to clean up there’s a permanent betting pool about if we’ll see more action than the security team on any given week.”

Right, these are the people who keep the building in a habitable state. In other words, they just shot directly to the top of my ‘do not fuck with’ list. The last thing I need is to find large amounts of magical waste dumped directly in my office.

The man continued, oblivious to our internal discussion, “Anyway, I’ll be giving you the guided tour of the facility. First stop is the cafeteria, since it’s close and I’ll bet you’re hungry after that long train ride.”

Jethro was right, I was hungry. We passed several students en route to the cafeteria. Most of them were teenagers as I expected, but I saw a couple kids around who couldn’t be older than eight.

As for the cafeteria itself, it was a fairly standard lunch room. Single queue line down the middle, splitting off to a pair of buffet counters. There were people waiting for their lunch already so we simply got in line to wait.

The line moved at a reasonable speed. We were just a few minutes out when I overheard, “Benny, if you don’t want your bed exploded you’d better gimme all your pudding.”

Immediately, my gaze locked on the source of the voice. It was a big burly teenager staring down at a little boy, the latter trembling with fear as he held his lunch tray. My jaw dropped with horror; blatant bullying in a school full of mages!?

Then I spotted the little kid going for something in his pocket, probably a wand. In an instant I had my hand in front of me, making the Flux sign for a force field as I rammed power into it. A shimmering barrier erupted between the two students, the both of them startling backwards as it snapped into existence.

I stormed over with a grim expression, demanding to know, “What is the meaning of this!?” while keeping my hands at the ready in case either of them tried something.

Neither of them did, thankfully. Instead they each pointed fingers at each other and said, “He started it!”

I glared at the both of them. “You should both know that I am the newly appointed headmaster of this school. You will be coming to my office to explain yourselves later, correct?”

There was a tense pause, before both children relented. Then their eyes widened as they felt the Obligation snapping shut around them. They would be coming by later, they no longer had a choice in the matter.

Then I glared at the would be victim, “You. What were you reaching for in your pocket?”

Benny answered, “Bionce charm. Would’ve stopped his heart.”

“Give it to me. Now.”

The bully startled back in shock at the realization of just how close he’d come to dying over pudding, even as Benny passed the inscribed wooden disk to me.

That immediate threat to life and limb handled for the time being, I got back into my spot in the lunch line. As we waited, Jethro remarked, “You did a decent job there. The new kids almost always need a few scares to figure out how dangerous this place can be. Just don’t be too hard on Benny; he’s been bullied and beaten up for years.”

I countered, “He was still about ten seconds away from becoming a murderer.” even as I casually inspected Benny’s inscribed charm. Nasty little piece of work; nothing groundbreaking. Any half-decent set of Flux wards would block it without even noticing. Still, it looked like it would work as advertised against an unprotected target… for about thirty seconds, until the scribing burnt itself out.

Jethro hummed sadly, “Wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened here. Still, we try to keep the casualties low.”

Then I finally reached the front of the lunch line, and started loading up my tray. Simple setup; five main menu items on offer, pick three of them, two dessert options. I went for the mashed potatoes, sausages, and peas, with chocolate pudding for dessert. Meanwhile Jethro opted for macaroni, baked beans, peas, and a pack of cookies for his dessert.

After getting to the table, Jethro and I ate quickly in companionable silence. We still savored the food instead of shoving it down as quickly as possible, but both of us were focused far more on finishing our meal instead of making small talk.

Jethro finished his meal a couple minutes faster than me, and waited patiently for me to finish. As I stood to return the stamped aluminum lunch tray, dishes and the utensils, I asked, “So, where do you think I should see next?”

Jethro thought for a moment, “Security department. Need to get that weapon you confiscated properly processed.”

And so we went, passing a grumpy-looking teacher with a long pointed nose as we traveled through the school. After only a couple minutes, we came to a door simply labeled, “Security.”

Stepping through, I could feel the shift as we entered a heavily warded room. I’d have to inquire about the precise details of the setup later.

More immediately, I was greeted by a tired-looking woman with a lollipop in her mouth. She asked, “You the new boss?”

“Yes, I’m Adrian. You?”

“Rachel. Deputy head of the security department. Anything in particular bringing you here, or are you just taking the grand tour?”

I nodded, and put the confiscated weapon on the desk, “Benny made this and was about to use it on a bully. The both of them will be coming to my office later to explain themselves.”

Rachel promptly started inspecting the magical weapon, even as she commented, “Huh. Pretty good work by that kid. He’s a keeper, definitely. I might use this myself later; only a brief pulse to knock someone over though.”

My face paled, “That’s a lethal magical weapon! And you’re thinking of using that on CHILDREN!?”

“The little shits wouldn’t think twice about doing the same to us, so why shouldn’t we?”

Out in the corridor, Jethro noted, “Anyway, next stop is the Ethics and Safety department. Anything you want to know about on the way?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

As we walked, I tried to conceal my horror as I asked, “Yes actually. I was never actually told the list of subjects taught here, so it would be very helpful information.”

“Right, won’t be able to go in depth, but I talk to my co-workers so I know who teaches what at least. Non-magical has seven subjects, all mandatory for students. Math, science, literature, history, civics, mental health, ethics&safety.”

I remarked, “Good coverage and those last two are extra important. Still I’m not sure how you get the children to pay attention to such ‘boring’ subjects.”, making sure to emphasize the air quotes.

Jethro chuckled a bit, “Oh the new kids sure don’t, but most of them change their tune once they realize they need approval from the Mr. Slate and a clean bill of mental health to take any of the flashy courses.”

I quirked an eyebrow in curiosity.

“Well, for the Ductile kids we teach Modern Synthesis as the only mandatory language, Bionce and Craft are electives, and if you want to learn Flux, Mancia or Alchemy you need approval from the Ethics and Safety department.”

I thought back to Benny’s little heart-stopper, “Considering the damage someone can do with just the unregulated classes, things might need to be revised a bit.”

Jethro countered, “Thing is, if we don’t teach ‘em any magic they’re just gonna invent some on their own. That’s why a good half of ‘em are here in the first place. At least this way they’re using languages we mostly have a handle on instead of a cant that does who knows what.”

“Point. Anyway, does this school teach Sharps? Most never even hone a skill to the point of transcendence, let alone while they’re still children.”

“Eh. We get a few every year, most of ‘em teenagers. We’ve got workshops for civilian use, artificing, and combat applications. That last one needs Ethics and Safety approval of course. Speaking of Ethics and Safety, we’re just about here. Hope you like talking with Mister Slate.”

I asked, “You’re not coming in with me?” as I opened the door to the Ethics and Safety department.

Jethro shook his head, “Nah, I need to get back to custodian work. Got a tingle that some clever idiot flushed an illicit potion down the toilet again. Need to neutralize the septic tank before it gets nasty.”

And with that, he was gone.

As I stepped into the office, I could only think to describe it as extremely serious. The desk was functional but lacked frills. The bulletin boards were neatly organized. The filing cabinets were clearly labeled. And the balding man behind the desk had possibly the worst case of resting bitch face I’d ever seen.

As I sat, I greeted him, “Mr. Slate I presume?”

“You presume correctly, Headmaster Adley. I’m Andrew Slate, head of the Ethics and Safety department here at Red Point. Now that Jethro’s shown you around, I’ll be helping get you settled in with your administrative duties.”

“That would be greatly appreciated. I only just got here and don’t really have much knowledge of how my predecessor was running things.”

Mr. Slate scowled, “Badly, especially in the last couple years. When Humbernot had to deal with stress he got… very sloppy with his decisions. He just took whatever option made the stress go away quickly, even when that was very bad for the school in the long run.”

Slate sighed, “We’ve managed to keep up a reasonable class schedule and avoid the building getting leveled, but there are several other aspects of the school that haven’t been kept up to any reasonable standard.”

Thinking back to the incident in the lunchroom, I remarked, “Guessing a lack of bullying prevention was one of Humbernot’s mistakes?”

Slate’s dead-eyed look said everything I needed to know about that. “Leaving aside that, there’s entire sections of the building that had to be sealed off due to persistent magical hazards. Cleaning them up would normally be the work of the custodial staff, but they don’t have the equipment or skills to deal with it.”

I nodded, “Thank you. Is there anything else I need to know right away, aside from where my office is?”

Slate shook his head, “No. The Headmaster’s office is two doors down from mine, though you may want to wait a bit for it to get cleaned up. Humbernot’s final breakdown caused some… issues. Thankfully there’s no magical hazards that resulted, but all the broken rum bottles and other damage means the room isn’t fit for service at the moment.”

I shook my head, “Sadly, I do actually need to go in there. There’s administrative paperwork I need to do my job effectively, among other considerations.” with that I stood, and began making my way to the headmaster’s office.

The office was just as much of a disaster as Slate’s description had implied. With the sheer volume of hard liquor consumed it was a miracle Humbernot hadn’t died of alcohol poisoning. Broken glass had been ground into the bear-skin carpet, stains of various bodily fluids were running down the walls in rivulets, and the desk was completely trashed.

I was staring at it, mouth agape for several seconds. Then the fax machine rang, notifying me of a message. I quickly levitated the letter over, and quickly discovered that it was an invoice for… ‘intimate activities’ that my predecessor had apparently hired.

Oh Humbernot, this is a school, there are children here! What if one of them had seen you!?

...I suppose I had better check if that happened, so I knew whether any children would be needing counseling as a result of Humbernot’s actions. I quickly withdrew a pair of glasses from my pocket. Ones that had served me well for years during my career investigating magical incident insurance claims.

The symbols on the frames flared into action as the Mancia inscription took hold, pulling information on past events into the present. I kept my gaze firmly on the door for the entire time, scrolling through the relevant time interval as I pointedly didn’t look at what happened further inside.

Mercifully, no children had been present, though two young women fled at high speed. Shortly afterwards, Humbernot was hauled off in a catatonic state.

I put my glasses away as I considered how to handle this. I wasn’t kidding about needing to get at the administrative paperwork, but this office would need days of hard work to salvage, even with magic. Then I spotted the filing cabinets.

Groaning with exasperation, I used some basic telekinesis from Modern Synthesis to lift the filing cabinets out of Humbernot’s wreckage, then went back to Slate’s office.

“Excuse me Andrew, but do you know of any unoccupied offices I could use temporarily?”

Mr. Slate’s expression silently screamed ‘I Told You So’ as he answered.

“Door between mine and Humbernot’s. It’s a bit sparse due to lack of use for about a decade, but it should be serviceable.”

“Thank you.”

True to Slate’s word, the disused office wasn’t much to look at. It had a simple utilitarian desk and a chair, but not much else. I floated the filing cabinets into the corner, set them down, and got to the busy task of making the office suitable for use.

Next thing to do, change the signs for which room was the headmaster’s office. The disaster area of Humbernot’s office was not where I wanted people coming to visit to end up. I grabbed one of my spare slats, scrawled a simple Mancia inscription on it, and set it on the door to the disaster area. There, anyone who wasn’t on the custodial staff should get major feelings of “NOPE!” if they tried opening that door now.

Now for my own door I inscribed a message in plain Harani “Office of Headmaster Adley”, before hanging it up. I could feel my other side claiming the space as mine as I did so, and in we went.

Right, time to read all the records from Humbernot’s time as headmaster. I’d just opened the filing cabinet to get the first set of records out when I heard a faint knock on the door.

“Come in.”

The door creaked open, and a severe-looking woman in a business dress entered, carrying a large folder.

I greeted her, “Hello, I’m Headmaster Adley. You are?”

“Lucy Thorncroft, one of the secretaries here. Since Humbernot left I’ve been collecting complaints about the way he ran things from the staff; figured it would be a useful way for you to get a quick briefing on things that needed immediate correction.”

I nodded, gesturing to the pile of paperwork on the left side of my desk, “Add it to the pile. I’ve got a lot of reading to do.” No need to ask where the secretarial offices were; I’d seen a sign for them adjacent to Slate’s office.

Lucy obliged, and quickly left the room, presumably off to do a bunch of other important secretarial work.

I’d barely gotten a few documents in (and learned that the security staff didn’t even have radios) when another set of knocks came from the door.

“Come in.”

It was the two children from the lunch room. “Hello Benny. And you are?”

The teenager replied, “Name’s Mule.”

I hummed, “Right. Anyway, the reason both of you are here is because there was very nearly an… incident in the lunch room earlier. If I hadn’t intervened, Mule would have probably died and Benny would have definitely been arrested.”

Both children paled with fear at the thought.

I pointed at Mule first, “You messed up big time. Bullying is not only wrong, but in this specific environment it’s suicidally stupid. Every single student is here because they figured out how to do something very dangerous. Going around picking on people is just asking for them to use what they know on you sooner or later.”

I then pointed at Benny, “As for you, what you almost did went far beyond any proportional response. There are circumstances in which lethal force is justified under the law, but that was not one of them. If you’re being bullied, you need to report it to the security office.” Thinking back to their behavior, the words felt hollow even as I said them.

Benny snarked back, “Oh, you mean like those dozens of times I did it before and they did nothing whatsoever? I kept records of how those goons behave, and they just don’t give a shit unless someone’s dying. Heck, I even brought in audio recording evidence one time.”

And just like that, investigating the security department shot to the top of my priority list. There was far too much concerning behavior from them to ignore.

“Right. I will look into that, but it still doesn’t make what you did acceptable. You can’t just go around killing anyone who picks on you.”

Mule’s expression shifted to one of pure horror as Benny replied in a truly chilling tone, “Nothing else has worked. Even tried a knock-out charm on the last few bullies and they just trashed my stuff after they woke up.”

Then Mule asked, “Er… what happened to the last few bullies?”

Benny shrugged, “They failed the ethics test at graduation. Got a mind control thingy shoved in their brain saying they couldn’t use magic anymore, then got tossed out on the street. Nothing to do with me, honestly.”

The rest of the interview was largely uneventful.

A week or so later I’d finally finished reading through all the papers that were in the backlog from Humbernot’s office, though the financial records were still missing. Still, a much more pressing matter was the conduct of the security team, according to Benny. So I’d asked the secretarial department to poll the student body about it in the meantime.

The report I’d gotten back was damning. As far as I could tell, the existing security department were nothing short of Humbernot’s goons for keeping the students in line and hushing up his malfeasances. They had to go.

So I discreetly reached out to various hiring agencies for replacement personnel, explicitly noting that I was only interested in security guards willing to sign a magically binding contract.

The telephone call I got as a result was encouraging, “Good news, we found twenty security personnel who meet your requirements. They’ll be on the train over tomorrow.”

Right. As soon as they arrived, their first task would be to help enforce the firing of the people they were replacing. For some reason Humbernot had thought giving them all lethal weapons was a good idea, and I didn’t want to wind up on the wrong end of that.

I spent the rest of the evening drafting up an appropriate contract for the new security personnel. I knew how clever some people could be with weaseling around the explicit wording of the exact working of Mancia oaths and contracts, so I made sure to include intent clauses for the restrictions on behavior. There was more than just Mancia in there of course; my other side included more than a bit of their own talents in the contract.

When the train arrived, I was ready and waiting for the new team of twenty. I’d set up a little booth at the station where they could look over their employment contracts before signing, complete with some snacks from the cafeteria. Then the doors of the passenger coach opened and twenty assorted men and women stepped onto the platform.

I caught a glimpse of the food and supply shipments being unloaded, even as I greeted them “Hello! I’ve got your employment contracts here for you to read, and there’s sandwiches on the tray over there if you’re hungry. I’m legally required to inform you that the contracts are magically binding; if anyone doesn’t want to sign, they can get back on the train and leave.”

The first to sit down and start thoroughly reading was a woman bearing slightly avian features, a very blatant battle wand holstered on her hip. About an hour later she nodded, signed, and stood. The rest of my new security team soon followed, and Ms. Eagle asked “Right, what do we need to do first?”

I frowned, “First, you need to help me disarm and fire your predecessors; their conduct has been truly appalling, but they’re heavily armed so I want backup for dealing with them.”

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