Slamming the door behind him, Arthur stumbled into his home. God damn it! Not only are my kidneys missing, she took my tailcoat and bloodied and tore my nicest shirt! It was in fact, his only shirt.

  Shit! I mean crap! Arthur thought in frustration, pulling a strange, heavy metal box from under the staircase, and proceeding to slam it down on his kitchen table. Taking hold of his ornate pocket watch, Arthur quickly checks the time. “Damn” Arthur curses, “Only an hour until I’m due to work.”

  Hastily opening the latches of the metal box, he pulls a set of strange metallic instruments from the inside. Ah! A sewing kit.

  After stripping his shirt off, Arthur begins weaving the threaded needle through his previously pristine white shirt. Oh wow, he’s actually pretty good, I can’t even tell it was torn! After sewing the shirt, he proceeds to weave the needle through his own wounds. Gritting his teeth, he surprisingly makes very few grunts of pain. Handy skill.

  Carefully placing his sewing kit back into the heavy metal box, he slides it back under the stairs, while keeping his stitches in mind. Arthur then heads outside, what could he be doing now?

  Arthur, upon arriving at a small stream behind his humble home, immediately starts scrubbing the shirt in his hand. As he’s washing the shirt, strange sounds flow from his mouth… Is he… Chanting? He can use magic?!

  A golden light surrounds Arthur’s hands, which motivates him to scrub harder. A few seconds after the chanting ends, the golden aura fades, leaving Arthur standing with a now pristine white shirt. This man just used magic, the kind of magic that requires a sacrifice -usually life- to use… To clean his shirt! “Ah, only twenty minutes left!” Arthur shouts after checking his watch, running back into his house in a hurry.

  Trodding up the stairs, Arthur reaches his closet, opening it with a totally overkill flourish, to reveal coat hanger after coat hanger of… Black tailcoats. Seriously, how many does this guy have?!

  Shrugging off any questions I might have had, Arthurs dons one of his many tailcoats and, after confirming that he has eighteen minutes left, casually walks down the stairs and out into the street. After all, a civil official can’t be seen running about like some ruffian, he has a reputation to uphold!

  That conniving woman, I need to find a way to get my kidneys back, a civil official without kidneys… What kind of a jest would that be? Interrupting Arthur’s deep and meaningful thoughts was a nod from Lord Beschissenberg. Fighting the scowl that tried to surface on his face, Arthur absentmindedly gave a bow to Lord Beschissenberg.

  Shit! I mean crap! Realizing that he had bowed too far and presented himself subservient to the smelly old man, Arthur cursed in his mind. Upon gazing at the dried jerky-like face of the old bastard, Arthur realized that the man knew that he had bowed deep enough to seem subservient, it just showed on that old bastard’s ugly mug.

  Arthur hurried his pace so he could get to work quicker, so as to prevent himself from failing to uphold his image any further. His lack of kidneys must be messing with his flow today.

  Getting close to the Civil Administration Building, he spots a rather hefty figure with gray hair. Upon closer inspection, Arthur notices that the figure is none other than Ms. Rosenthall, and a very disheveled figure at that. Her hair strewn about, as if a crow had made his nest on her scalp.

  “There.. You… are” Ms. Rosenthall choked the words out, out of breath from seemingly running a great distance to the Civil Administration Building.

  Arthur starts “Yes, perhaps we should speak inside, Ms. Rosenthall?” Wincing at all the gazes from the public. Ms. Rosenthall’s look is certainly not doing good for the image of the civil officials in the eyes of the populace. “Please, call me Henrietta.” Henrietta Rosenthall squeaks out while patting down her hair. “Through my sources I’ve heard of your… predicament.” Henrietta says while directing her gaze towards Arthur’s abdomen… Or perhaps his crotch, it is kind of hard to see where she is looking from this angle.

  “Ms. Ro… Henrietta.” Arthur quickly corrects himself after receiving Ms. Rosenthall’s stern gaze, which immediately lightens upon being called Henrietta. “If you have indeed caught word of the trouble that has befallen me, do you perhaps have a solution to my… predicament?” Arthur asks, hope in his voice. “I do!” Ms. Rosenthall starts. Adding “But I agree, maybe we should discuss this matter in a more private location?” A genuine smile flourishes on Arthur’s face, actually looking a bit unnerving. “Grand! Let us head inside then.” Arthur says, going to grab the door. “Actually, I don’t think this is the best place to be having this conversation, what with you-know-who.” Ms. Rosenthall appends. “Ah, forgive my thoughtlessness, to where should we go then?” Arthur asks. Ms. Rosenthall replies “There’s this new Storian restaurant I’ve heard good things about.”

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  Arthur, remembering that he is due to work, quickly dismisses the idea of leaving. However, upon recalling the scene from this morning, where he had completely destroyed his image in front of Lord Beschissenberg, Arthur is left with a struggle; Abscond from work, destroying his image in the eyes of his coworkers, the director, the public, and possibly his parents. Or continue on to work, without his kidneys, which will likely result in him making more mistakes, furthering the damage from this morning. He quickly comes to a decision, “Let us be on our way then! I have heard good things about Storian cuisine!” He states his wrong opinion.

  The shitty restaurant, being a ten minute walk at a good pace, should take about twenty. What with Arthur wincing every step in pain. “That coat you’re wearing, it’s last years issue, right?” Ms. Rosenthall asks. “Ah, A sharp eye, it is indeed. My newer tailcoat is… being washed.” Arthur responds, adding “I am actually stunned you noticed the difference. Most, aside from the director, do not notice.” Ms. Rosenthall sends him a warm smile “Well I’ve noticed you usually wear the newest coats every year, ever since you started as an official five years ago.” She adds.

  Arthur, taking a closer look at Ms. Rosenthall notes “Ah, I’ve noticed that you are wearing the civil official’s coat of three years past, Henrietta.” Ms. Rosenthall’s smile grows even wider upon hearing his words. “Yes, I just love the design, how the seam on the upper right sleeve is subtly covered by the city’s emblem.” Arthur, eyes ablaze quickly responds “Exactly! It embodies the values an official should have!” Ms. Rosenthall, apparently had a passion ignited inside of her as well quickly replied “Of course, and the way the light grey trim of this year’s coat contrasted with your hair, just marvelous!”

  The conversation continued in this matter as the duo made their way to the restaurant. Upon arriving inside they’re quickly seated in a private room on the second floor and served a plate of… weird fish things, I don’t know, it looks gross. “So.” Ms. Rosenthall begins. Her voice drowning out the commotion and shouting of the floor below “I believe I have a solution to your little problem.” “What might that entail, Henrietta?” Arthur asks, liking this woman more and more by the second. Why hadn’t I spoken at length with her before? She may be slightly older than me, but her taste is impeccable! Thinks Arthur. Ms. Rosenthall starts with a smile at hearing her name ”I think I can help with a special magic…” She quickly adds “I have access to magics some consider… unnatural.” Arthur quickly thinks, asking “Are these magics… dangerous?” The smile not leaving her face, Ms. Rosenthall replies “There is, of course, the regular risks associated with any magic. But nothing more! I swear!”

  Arthur, believing he couldn’t get any luckier quickly asks “What do I need to do? When can we start?” Ms. Rosenthall gestures to a conveniently and suspiciously present sofa in the corner of the room “For now, just lay down on this conveniently placed sofa.” Arthur, assenting, lies down. “Now, close your eyes.” Ms. Rosenthall starts, to which Arthur quickly acquiesces. “Good, now tell me your full name, given at birth.” Ms. Rosenthall adds.

“Arthru Strom.” Arthur soon replies. “Wonderful, Arthru Strom. Now I need you to relax and think happy thoughts.” Ms. Rosenthall commands. A blue aura emitting from her hands as she holds them above Arthur’s head and starts chanting.

  Strange, Arthur ponders while imagining a field of signed paperwork. Why would she need my full name to heal my kidneys? Is she healing my kidneys? Can you heal kidneys or do they have to regrow? Is she regrowing them? How exactly is she helping, is she finding Alice? A barrage of thoughts run through Arthur’s mind, eliciting a grunt from Ms. Rosenthall, “Keep thinking happy thoughts, Arthru!” she yells.

  Quickly returning to the field of completed paperwork in his mind, Arthur feels a tugging sensation. Wait, aren’t soul magics the only kind that require true names? Odd that she would use a soul magic to heal a kidn- If the door bursting open hadn’t scattered all of Arthur’s thoughts, the figure that quickly rushed through would have. It was the director! “PUT THAT SOUL BACK WHERE YOU FOUND IT, BOG WITCH!” the angry director bellows. Wait… soul? Arthur, quickly looking up, realizes his soul is halfway between his body and the older woman.

  “HAHA! You’re too late, director. His soul is already in my possession!” Yells the gray-haired woman in reply, strengthening the pulling sensation on Arthur’s soul. WAIT WAIT WAIT! SHE’S A BOG WITCH?! FIRST MY KIDNEYS AND NOW MY SOUL?! YOU PEOPLE CAN’T BE SER- Arthur’s thoughts are once more interrupted, this time permanently.

  Ms. Rosenthall, a bog witch of Streggin quickly yanks the rest of the blue aura from Arthur. The director, upon seeing this, sighs. “I was too late, he was an ideal civil official too, unfortunate.” He ponders aloud. “I mean, he was kind of an ass, ignoring me every morning like that.” He adds.

  Ms. Rosenthall agrees “That was rude, and for five years straight too, he must’ve really hated you.”

  “I don’t see why? I thought I was quite courteous.” the director adds, glumly.

  “Aye, some people are just like that.” Ms. Rosenthall says. “Since you’re too late again, I guess I’ll see you next time I try to steal someone’s soul.” She adds.

  The director waves, saying “Yeah, I was too late this time so you can leave… What a waste.” The director sighs, leaving.

  What a waste indeed, why the hell was I even following this guy if he’s just gonna die like that?!