After his talk with young lady Juno, Flitz went to Elder Boe's mansion to get further directions.
The sturdy gray-haired old man in the sumptuous armchair said with a sigh:
«Martin is dead. Choked to death on a bun.»
Flitz trembled inside when he heard the news. He would have fallen on the carpet but, fortunately, there was a chair nearby. The man hunched, clasped his head in his hands and groaned in despair:
«On a bun?! What the hell! Heaven can be funny but it’s too much, damn it!»
Elder Boe grimaced.
«Mind your language! I won’t tolerate profanity. I’m not the Patriarch.»
Flitz closed his eyes, trying to pull himself together. Who knew that his former student, and now a sympathetic ear for ghost stories, would drop dead because of a bun? It’s not even funny.
Boe gave the formacist a moment to come to his senses and cut right to the chase.
«After Martin’s death, two hundred formations on the members of our family had dissipated. They are impossible to get identified without a token, which greatly complicates their and our lives. Oh by the way... Three hundred slaves have also lost their formations. The beasts don’t take them for locals anymore and attack them at the first opportunity. We have already lost a few dozen slaves, while the rest refuse to work because they are afraid to get eaten. I can understand them... Anyway, the Stones need you. As of tomorrow, take up the formations. It’s urgent.»
Flitz snickered:
«Why the fu… the hell do we need so many beasts around if they eat our people?»
Boe rubbed his throbbing temples:
«They are not wild, they are harnessed… That’s not the point. If the Stones and the slaves had their formations the beasts would be docile as they had been before. Who knew the moron would die from a crumb?!» - The elder spat angrily. The timing for all that farce couldn’t be more wrong. However, when he noticed Flitz’s darkened face he apologized:
«I am sorry… I know he was your student. Last week was very difficult because of all this. I'm the only elder in the whole estate at the moment.»
«It’s alright.» - Flitz answered coldly. - «I’ll get to work tomorrow.»
«…»
When a formacist dies the formations they applied begin to smolder like embers and lose their functions. The beasts that roamed the estate were not tamed. They were under subjugating formations in the form of collars called "arcanum." All members of the family could control the beasts so that they protected humans and followed their orders. The beasts didn’t obey the slaves but the collars ensured safety.
Elder Boe rubbed his temples again. All those problems were giving him a splitting headache. Flitz was not young. Boe didn’t even want to think about the chaos that would begin in the estate after his death.
After talking to the elder, Flitz went to his office. He had to prepare everything for tomorrow's working day. The office was on the second floor, not far from the place where the newly arrived slaves were brought in.
He heard some noise outside, or rather curses.
With a grim look on his face, Flitz threw a stack of documents into the drawer and went to the window. His office was opposite the shed where the new slaves usually arrived. Today a new batch was expected.
He saw a familiar scene outside his window: the warden was yelling at some poor slave in the spacious courtyard. Year after year, it’s always the same. Flitz was about to get back to his things when he suddenly noticed the boy make an almost imperceptible gesture. A bar of soap flew out of his hands, bounced off the wall and fell right under the boss’s feet. Mission complete - the man plopped to the ground and smashed his face.
The old man snickered into his beard: {Not bad, not bad at all...}
The next moment the window that served him as a screen to watch the show shattered. The furious warden had quickly found the reason for his debacle and threw the soap right in the window!
«Fucking shit!» - Flitz cursed gloomily. He fished under the table the ill-fated hygiene product and threw it back with tripled strength. The warden had it coming!
{Serves you right!} – The old man snorted vengefully. He watched with satisfaction Hein fiercely rub his bruised eye. The next moment the warden rushed like a buffalo at the "marksman." Of course, he had to take it out on someone. - {I feel kind of bad for the kid, but it's not my problem.} – Flitz thought to himself and was about to turn away from the window as he noticed the deliverer rapidly approach the crowd. The next moment, Hein got a smack upside the head. Not his lucky day. – {Hmm, is he trying to help the boy out? Curiouser and curiouser!}
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Flitz’s mood slightly improved. The funny boy distracted him, at least for a while, from his thoughts about his student’s death. He arranged his things, checked quickly the condition of the tools, shook his head disapprovingly at the tiny spider who had settled in the corner between the shelves and the ceiling. He was ready to go about his business. However, his plans were thwarted in the bud: he could hear loud clattering outside and then the door creaked and opened.
Ren burst in with a group of slaves. The formacist laid his eyes on the disheveled head of the cheeky fellow in the rear of the crowd. The boy managed to make an enemy of the warden on his very first day of arrival.
…
Kyon was the last to come in. He cast a quick look around the room. It was rather spacious, furnished in old style (by the standards of that world). There was a bulky oak table and a huge wardrobe of the same wood; shelves loaded with all kinds of staff and a frame with a black and white photo of a thin gray-haired woman. {Hmm did they invent the camera or its analog?} Behind the table, there was a half wall window — or rather, a broken half wall window covered shyly with heavy and probably very dusty curtains.
The old man was sitting at the table with his fingertips closed in front of him. He was tall and thin. The years had whitened his hair and long beard. Despite his gray old age, the expression on his face didn’t give the impression of a nice person. Quite the opposite, it revealed his nasty character and rude manners.
Ren recognized Flitz and hurried to bow making a sign to the slaves to do the same. He raised his head, his voice sounded nervous and respectful:
«Mr. Flitz, I have delivered a new batch of slaves. My apologies for the delay but it’s still your office hours. That’s why I thought…»
The old man interrupted him with a gesture and said stroking his gray beard:
«Ren, did you know that we just lost Martin?»
«I didn’t, sir. I'm so sorry... I’m sorry for your loss…»
Flitz took his pipe out of the drawer and looked for a match. After the second strike, the office filled with smoke. The old man inhaled with satisfaction and continued:
«Your batch of slaves is five hundredth in line, so you can roll home like a hedgehog.»
«Yes, sir.» - Ren bowed slightly and hurried towards the exit, when all of a sudden, the brooding old man stopped him:
«Why did you defend the boy?»
Ren looked down uncomfortably.
«I just gave a slap to my colleague for being unprofessional, sir…»
«Are you trying to fool me, sucker?» - The old man snorted, squinting menacingly.
The deliverer hastily bowed his head:
«I am sorry, I really defended the boy for my reasons... I am sorry I lied…»
«Spit it out. You bore me stiff.» - Flitz said lazily relishing the good tobacco. Now he looked arrogant like a king.
The man swallowed and answered hesitantly:
«The boy… He is capable of more than you know. We kind of made friends on the way from the mine. Besides, he proved himself capable of excellent work there. So I thought I’d defend a nice fellow.»
Flitz puffed out a couple of smoke rings with a regal pensive look and shook the ashes out of the pipe. He appraised the boy from head to toe. A good-looking, sporty type. He is alright. He seems to have the strength to persevere. Flitz took a decision.
«You are free to go. The boy stays here.»
Ren bowed, threw a meaningful glance at Kyon and took the group with him.
The old man beckoned the boy to come up to him and took a closer look at the formation on his forehead:
«Have you done any martial arts, Kyon?»
The boy had little understanding of what was going on but the could feel a dangerous aura of the high-ranking prig. Formacists are people of status. The old man is clearly one of those, his manners say a lot.
«I’ve had a little experience. I can show you some tricks…»
«It’s a mug’s game.» - The old man chuckled. - «Take off your shirt.»
Kyon obediently stripped to the waist.
The old man examined his body and nodded contentedly. The boy had sculpted, medium size pecs, minimal body fat, confident posture, straight strong back. He would endure a hundred or even a thousand blows from the young lady. He is the right one. Flitz felt a bit sorry for such a nice specimen but Juno’s wish was his command. Anyway, he had promised her grandfather to take care of her. He wished his hands were not full in the mine... He wished he had more time for her. The damned formations.
And yet, this was a nice fellow! Even too nice. The boy looked so handsome, so sweet, a bit shaggy. It’s a sin such slaves exist at all. They are usually thin, haggard, joyless zombies but this one... However, he wouldn’t stay alive long at the job Flitz had for him.
«Not bad, not bad at all.» - Flitz said once again with a dreamy sigh. He would gladly have the boy’s looks. Too bad he had never practiced the magic of transferring souls to another body if there was such at all.
«Thank you for the compliment, sir.» - Kyon smiled slightly and added with hope: «Will you take me on as your apprentice?»
«Ha-ha-he! I have the 2nd rank in the family, boy. Why would you deserve this honor? A pile of muscles and good looks, it’s no big deal... I have a job for you. It’s not an easy one.» - Flitz leaned back in his chair, his fingers clasped in front of him, waiting for the boy’s cheerful reaction.
Kyon frowned. It won't do. What job is he talking about?
«I am worth a lot, sir! You can check me out if you like?»
Flitz gave Kyon a look that made him cringe. It was like he was staring into his soul.
«Hmm... You know, you must be barking up the wrong tree. But so be it. Anyway, I’m sick and tired of this damn office. I need some air. Come on, let's see your glorified skills. And God forbid you disappoint me. I’ll wring your neck.»
Kyon swallowed when he heard the warning. However, he was confident in himself and took it easy: {Fine! He will definitely become my master...} He had already planned an epic bright future for himself. Fresh from the mine and a step away from the mentorship of a high-ranking old man. What could be better than that?