The EnviroCharm workshop where Gideon had spent far too much of his life was a sleek, three-story building made of green stone and covered in patches of moss that spelled out the company’s slogan: ”It’s A Magical World!”
Mr. Dreadmoor had often said the company’s aesthetic was supposed to be natural yet chic. He’d usually said this when reprimanding Gideon for showing up to work while looking “shabby.”
Though the company had a few other offices throughout Acretan, Prospera was their first and biggest workshop, where most of their merchandise was crafted and enchanted. Including the artifact that Gideon needed to steal tonight. Annoyingly, Mortimer Rook had refused to tell Gideon precisely what he wanted. He’d only specified it was located in the main vault, down in the basement, and that Finch would know what to grab as long as Gideon could get him in there.
Which meant it was something big and probably dangerous.
Gideon entered the revolving doors that led into the EnviroCharm lobby, happy to escape the late afternoon sun. Though he still had his employee badge, he assumed it wouldn’t work. While there were many holes in EnviroCharm’s security that he planned to ruthlessly exploit later, Mr. Dreadmoor had presumably canceled Gideon’s access the day he’d quit.
Originally, Gideon had been planning to come back here to collect his last paycheck, minus the cost of the company communicator, which still lay shattered on the rocks below Castle Kastorus. Now, of course, he had another reason for coming.
He knew Mortimer Rook would stab him in the back at the first opportunity. But the inevitability of Rook’s betrayal made it predictable, and Gideon felt a strange comfort in that. Besides, Rook couldn’t do anything until the artifact he wanted was secured and in his possession.
Timing would be everything.
Gideon approached the front desk and waved at the receptionist, a tired-looking man whom Gideon recognized by face but not by name.
“Hi,” Gideon said, raising his hand. “I’d like to see Mr. Dreadmoor.”
The man picked up the intercom behind the desk and punched a couple of buttons on a console. A few moments later, the speaker hissed to life.
“What is it?” Mr. Dreadmoor’s voice screeched from the speaker.
“Uh, there’s someone here to see you.”
“Who?”
“It’s Gideon Moody,” Gideon said, and the receptionist repeated the name into his microphone.
There was a long silence on the other end of the line.
“Tell that shithead to wait right there!”
“Yes, sir,” the receptionist said. The connection closed with a click.
It took barely a minute for Mr. Dreadmoor to storm out of one of the passages leading to the main workshop. As always, he was dressed in a black suit that was slightly too large for him. Under his nose, a black mustache drooped. In Gideon’s experience, he always looked unhappy, but today his face was set into an even deeper scowl than usual.
“Mr. Moody!” he called out, pointing his finger at Gideon. “I didn’t expect you to have the audacity to show your face here. Not after the stunt you pulled. If you expect a letter of reference, you will be sorely disappointed.”
Gideon shrugged. “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Dreadmoor. I just came to pick up my last paycheck and return my badge.”
His former boss raised an eyebrow. “And your communicator?”
“It was unfortunately damaged during my trip. I know you’ll take it—”
“Docked from your pay,” Mr. Dreadmoor said, interrupting him.
“I know.” Reaching into his pocket, Gideon pulled out his badge and held it out.
Dreadmoor waved his hand. “You can keep that. It doesn’t work anymore, and we can’t reuse it.”
Gideon looked down at the badge and saw his own face smiling up at him from five years ago—it had been a simpler time in some ways, but not one he wished to return to. “Okay,” he said and put it back in his pocket. “I left some things in my cubicle I’d like to grab while I’m here.”
“Security boxed those up days ago,” Dreadmoor said, shaking his head. “I’ll have them brought out to you, along with your check, minus the necessary adjustments.”
Gideon sighed. He’d been hoping to get a chance to see more of the building before tonight. But if he had to go in mostly blind, so be it. He assumed it couldn’t have changed that fast compared to when he was last here.
“If this concludes our business,” Dreadmoor said, “I’d better return to the floor. As you know, this is a busy time of year for us.”
“It always was,” Gideon said. “Thanks, Mr. Dreadmoor.”
Dreadmoor hesitated for a moment. “You were a good employee until you weren’t, Mr. Moody. I wish you luck in your next venture, whatever it is.” Dreadmoor spun on his heel and walked back towards the set of swinging double doors that led deeper into the building.
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Gideon was so stunned by Dreadmoor’s well wishes that he almost considered calling out to him and telling him he needed to lock down the building tonight. After all, Gideon’s plan did not involve actually stealing anything.
But Gideon bit his tongue. Such sentimentality would only get him in trouble, and one kindness could hardly make up for all the years of insults.
Still, some deep part of Gideon’s heart knew he would miss this place. Even though it had terrorized him, he would miss it still.
Ten minutes later, a security guard walked out carrying a box containing a few of his things—some small metal dragon statues he’d kept on his desk, a portrait of him and his parents from when he’d been a kid, and an EnviroCharm mug he’d been given during new employee orientation filled with pens and pencils. He’d expected them to keep that, but apparently it was his. Tucked into the box was an envelope, which presumably contained his last paycheck.
Gideon took the box, and the guard nodded, then walked away. He couldn’t help but feel a bit hollow—he’d given so much of his life to this company, and in the end, this was it? Shaking his head, he passed back through the revolving doors and out into the city.
The EnviroCharm building was located between a small park and a canal that ran behind it. Gideon wasn’t expected to meet with Mortimer and Finch until the evening. For the first time that day, he didn’t know what to do next.
He sat down on a bench near EnviroCharm in the shade of an elm tree. When he’d first arrived here, he’d hoped to visit Falconridge and see Yvette. Now, he no longer had the stomach for it. What could he possibly say to her? “Hi, I know you’re probably within a year of graduating as a fully-fledged, totally legitimate wizard by now. Oh, me? I’m an apprentice to my Great-Uncle. He’s dead, but don’t worry. He was a necromancer who managed to transfer his soul into a mirror. And tonight, I plan to break into my old employer to pretend to steal something for my loan shark, only so I can double-cross him and flee the city.”
“Bah,” he muttered. He wondered what Uncle Kelvan would have thought if he could see him. If he knew what Gideon intended, would he be impressed? Or would he think his nephew was a fool?
That all depended on whether he succeeded, Gideon supposed.
“Gideon!” a voice shouted from behind him, and he almost jumped off the bench at the sound of it. “It’s been too long.”
Panicking, Gideon turned to see an old lady carrying a large pair of shears rapidly approaching him, a broad smile on her wrinkled face.
“Mrs. Fernwood?” Gideon exclaimed. He had never expected to see her again. Her white hair was like a cloud on her head, and she wore a long, flowing flower-print dress. A pang of guilt shot through him—the last time he’d thought about her, he’d been shouting at Mr. Dreadmoor and had said something he’d regretted.
“Mr. Moody,” she said. “I was going to go get this fixed up, but since you’re here, this is even better. Would you mind?”
“Oh,” Gideon said, chuckling. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fernwood, but I don’t work for EnviroCharm anymore. I, uh, quit.”
She smiled even wider. “Ah, great news! On to bigger and brighter things, eh? Did you finally get a spot at Falconridge, then?”
Gideon had no idea how to respond, but eventually shrugged and shook his head. “No, but I found a great opportunity out in the Frostpeak Mountains, near a village called Emberly. I’m going to be working at a castle there, uh, we’re going to turn it into an inn. And I am apprenticing in magic there, more or less?”
Mrs. Fernwood nodded happily. “Ah, wonderful,” she said. “Absolutely wonderful. You’re moving on up in the world! You’re on your way, headed for bigger and brighter things. I’m so pleased to hear.”
Gideon smiled nervously. I hope so, he thought. “Thanks, Mrs. Fernwood.”
“You know, Gideon, you were the most wonderful person at EnviroCharm. Thank you for all the times you helped me. Now that you’re free, I’ll have to beg those dolts to fix up the enchantments on this thing. Well, I hope you have a nice day!”
She began walking towards the building, but Gideon said, “Wait. Uh, you know what? I don’t mind. For old-time’s sake. Just don’t tell them about this, okay? I’m pretty sure this will void your warranty since I’m no longer an EnviroCharm employee.”
“I can keep a secret,” Mrs. Fernwood said, smiling.
Reaching into his robe, Gideon took out his old, trusty, [Simple Wand]. Though plain, it had always served him well.
Gideon took a deep breath and sent his mana coursing down his arm, through his hand, and into the wand’s focusing crystal, weaving together two spells—[Sharpness] and [Toughness], intertwined.
With a flash of light, the shears gleamed in the sun. Every scratch and imperfection had been removed. A flood of status messages flew across Gideon’s vision.
Through the application of Spiritweft, you have weaved [Sharpness] and [Toughness] into a new spell: [Enhancement]! Skill Grade Increase! Your proficiency in Spiritweft has increased to Stone Rank, Grade C. Skill Grade Increase! Your proficiency in Spiritweft has increased to Stone Rank, Grade B. Skill Grade Increase! Your proficiency in Spiritweft has increased to Stone Rank, Grade A. Skill Rank Up! Your proficiency in Spiritweft has ascended to Copper Rank, Grade D. Skill Grade Increase! Your proficiency in Geomancy has increased to Silver Rank, Grade B. Level Up! Your mana core has gained strength. Maximum mana increased.
For a moment, Gideon stared at the notifications before blinking each one away in shock. Had that really just happened? All that from Mrs. Fernwood’s shears? He kept leveling up when he least expected it. But casting the spell had felt natural in a way it had never felt before when he’d tried to cast two spells at once. The two streams of mana had blended seamlessly without any resistance. He wondered what other combinations might be worth practicing.
“Wow,” Mrs. Fernwood said. “This looks even better than when I bought it.”
As Gideon examined the shears, he noticed the metal had changed texture, as if it had been fortified or tempered differently. It was barely even recognizable as the same tool. Mrs. Fernwood walked over to a nearby shrub and, with zero hesitation, clipped off the end of a sprig. The shears made almost no sound as they cut it.
Unfortunately, Gideon’s spell had erased the small EnviroCharm logo that had been imprinted at the base of one of the blades.
“I’m sorry, Mrs. Fernwood,” Gideon said, sighing as he put his wand back in his pocket. “But I’m pretty sure I voided your warranty after all.”
“Who cares?” she said, holding the shears towards the sky. “These are amazing. They'll do wonders for my topiary. I can’t wait to see what else I can cut.” She looked around, then set off towards a large oak tree.
“Mrs. Fernwood!” Gideon called out. “Wait, please come back… This is a public park!”
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