“Fuck you.”

“Crowley..”

“I’m not doing it,” I stomped down the hallway outside his office, my cane clacking against the smooth black tiled floor. Probably wasn’t a good idea given my condition, but at the time I didn’t care. My annoyance had turned to frustration mixed with indignation at the Magos’ gall. He has me running around doing menial shit for days on end, refuses to let me retire despite my numerous request for it, and now has the balls to set me up as collateral without my knowledge?

Whatever he was on when he thought I would agree to this, he needs to get a refund for it.

I forced my way past some other Summoners walking down the hall. I didn’t bother checking to see their rank. Too busy looking for the exit while complaining to the persistent Magos, “Find some other patsy to solve your fucking mess.”

“You know I can’t do that,” he was lying through his teeth and he knew it. There were thousands of other summoners he could’ve chosen for this. Ones that would happily say yes to whatever their boss told them to without question. He was the Magos, after all. The only person who would tell him no to his face would be...me.

“Sure you can. Just walk up a Master, explain the situation, and you’ve got yourself a willing pawn.”

“I don’t need a pawn, Crowley. I need the Arch Summoner!”

Oh, I recognize that tone. I glance to the left and see the frustration taking over his face. His furrowing brow, increasingly deep frown, and the fire that was slowly growing in his eyes. Seems my continual reluctance was starting to get to him.

Good.

“Well, put it that way...too bad! Your Arch Summoner is taking a vacation,” I think I still had a few days left. This was a perfect time to use them.

Unfortunately, Moldo was quick to shoot me down, “Denied. This isn’t something you can just say no to, Crowley. If you just give me a chance to explain-”

“And why the fuck should I?!” I stop right in front of the elevator that brought me here. The doors opened with a ding and a Scar walked out with a female Acolyte trailing behind him. The young girl stopped to stare at us with admiration filled eyes. Moldo quickly plastered a smile across his face and told her to run along before her guardian starts missing her. She did as he asked, nodding until she caught up to the Scar.

The moment she was gone Moldo's smile turned into a frown. He grabbed my wrist as gently as he could while keeping his glaring eyes locked onto mine, "We can discuss this somewhere we're less likely to bother others. I promise you, I'll explain everything then."

I prepare a response but don't let it leave my lips. The elevator was right behind me and, while it wasn't busy, people would be coming out of it as the day went on. I was fine with yelling at Moldo, but not so much making myself look like a whiny brat in front of my peers. Of course, I could just walk into the elevator and leave right now. He wouldn't really be able to stop me unless he wanted to turn this into a scene. But what gave me pause was his offer of an explanation. Usually, he'd give me the mission then tell me to hop to it. If I asked for details, he'd just be as vague as possible. This is the first time he's said he'd give me the entire story.

I might be being a bit too optimistic here, but...

"Alright then," Moldo's body visibly relaxed at my words. I jerked my head to the left, "Let's go talk. And you'd better be straight with me."

"Of course. Thank you," he sighed in relief with a hand on his chest before starting to walk left. I followed him down a separate hallway. After a few minutes of walking, the black stone walls gave way to multiple separate rooms. Each had reflective glass set up along the walls with a single door installed to their side. Moldo heads to one and opens it up, holding the door open for me.

I head inside and feel the nostalgia hit me full in the face. Ah, yes. The rooms we used for "questioning" troublemaking demons, humans, everyone really. There was but one solitary light emanating from a lamp dangling from the ceiling. I had been on both sides of the gray table in the center of the room. If I wasn't me trying to get a confession out of a demon that had escaped confinement, it was me being chewed out by another Summoner for "not doing my job". More often than not it was the former. I gravitated towards the side of the table away from the entrance, sitting down in the fold-out chair just as Moldo locked the door.

He pulled out the chair directly opposite me and sat down. Both arms fell to the table as he took in a deep breath. Then he asked, "I don't suppose you've been watching the news lately?"

"Pfft, no," I did what I could to get comfortable in my chair. Didn't accomplish much since they were made to be uncomfortable on purpose. Kept whoever was in them on edge and more likely to make a mistake. I waved at him in clear disinterest, "Just a bunch of the same crap over and over again."

"Figures. Have you at least been keeping track of our relationship with Celestine?"

"I refer to my previous statement of 'same crap over and over again'. They hate us, we hate them, blah, blah, blah. I started to tune all that out after hearing the tenth rumor about how war is gonna break out."

Moldo nodded, before folding his hands together and saying, "I see. What if I told you those rumors weren't just rumors anymore?"

That got my attention. I look up and focus my gaze on every aspect of Moldo's eyes. I wasn't the only one who could see through Moldo's flippant acting and he knew that. That's why he's done his best to prop that persona up as his real face. He got so good at it that he started to fool even me a few times.

But I wasn't one to leave things at that. It took a few weeks, but I managed to find the crack in his facade. The one trick to find out if he's messing with you; His right eye blinks twice.

If he did that now, I would know that what he just said was a lie. I could stand up right now and walk out that door with no regrets.

He didn't.

Shit.

"That would change things," I leaned forward as best I could without putting too much pressure on my leg. I placed an arm on the table while continuing, "After all, it's one thing to hear it from a random doomsayer on the side of the road. It's another to hear it from the Magos of Melphis himself."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

"Well, that's exactly what you're hearing," he tapped a finger on the table, "The tension between Melphis and Celestine has never been higher. The incident I told you about? It's not the only one. I've gotten numerous reports just like it from half a year ago. All confrontations between Celestine and us. All ending with either side gravely injured or someone dead. The Archangel and I have done what we can to keep things from boiling over, but we can't keep it up forever. We need to do something drastic or else.."

He doesn't need to finish the sentence. We both know what he means. The history between our cities hasn't ever been a rosy one. If memory serves, the archives record five separate wars between us at minimum. All usually stemming from some fundamental difference between the two. The demons and Summoners wanting to get one over on the angels and Chosen, or the angels and Chosen wanting to get revenge for a perceived slight.

The causes changed, but the results were always the same.

Death and destruction on a massive scale.

There was never a clear "winner" in the fights. The cities simply kept going until some brave souls realized the futility of it all, and brokered a peace. It usually lasted a century or so before everything started again. Normally, because some asshole decides to interpret history a bit differently than someone else.

Not pretty. But the truth hardly is.

Five contemplative minutes pass between us before I decide to break the silence, "Not that I am keen on being in a war for the first time, but what exactly is this 'exchange' of yours supposed to accomplish? If things are as bad as you say, we're only a few months out before things light up."

He leans back in his own chair and holds up two fingers, "Two ways. First, there's the understanding angle. We hate them because we think we know them, and they hate us because they think they know us. If you were to spend some time with a few of Celestine's Chosen Ones, you might start to rub off on them. Which would mean they'd grow up with a more understanding view of the Summoners. And, since you are the Arch Summoner, the people of Celestine will associate you with Melphis. And if you make a good impression, they might start changing their opinion of us."

"Quite optimistic don't you think?" I replied with a chuckle, "You can't seriously think that'll work, can you?"

"Do you not?"

"Uh, well, ah. Ok, let's put it like this. I don't think me alone is going to be enough to convince a bunch of self-righteous zealots that the people they see as 'heretics' aren't all bad. Especially with how Melphis is. You have been outside of this tower, right? We're not exactly a shining beacon of civilization."

"That's all true. Bbbbuuuuttttt?"

"But...well, crazier things have happened," me becoming Arch Summoner for instance, though I don't say it out loud, "I don't think it's impossible, just highly unlikely."

"Maybe true. But, it's the best we've got," Moldo shrugs while folding down one finger. Then he continues, "As for the second reason...remember when I said I had gotten reports about other incidents half a year back?"

I nodded then gestured for him to get on with it. His eyes rolled as he folded his other finger down, "I cross-referenced all the incidents together...and noticed they all occurred within two weeks from each other. Then they accelerated to one week. And the latest incident happened only five days out from the last one. On top of that, every confrontation always involved either the most high strung Summoners we have, or those of us with more...extremist ideals."

"And I wouldn't be too far off to say this is true for Celestine, too?" Moldo's confirming nod doesn't give me any comfort. This was one of the times I wished I wasn't right. But since I was, it could only mean one thing. I groaned in frustration as my head hits the desk with a crash. It rattles and clanks as I vocalization what we both were thinking, "Someone's stoking the fucking fire."

"And we don't know who they are, yet," Moldo holds his hands to his side as the truth is laid out for me to see, "Which is where you come in. Based on the information both the Archangel and I have gathered, we've deduced that whoever is orchestrating these events is operating out of Celestine. During your stay, I want you to search for any and all possible leads to these people. Once you find enough evidence, report it to the Archangel and we'll take it from there."

"But why me?" I lift my head from the table, rubbing the red welt on my forehead while ignoring Moldo's chuckle, "Wouldn't you want someone better suited to this type of stuff? You know I'm not good at sneaking around."

"Oh? Really?" Moldo holds up a hand and starts counting off fingers, "You keep to yourself, are extremely paranoid, have the keen ability to get people to stay away from you, can read people better than most, have an exit strategy for just about every situation, and despite being the most famous man in the city, hardly anyone outside of our organization knows anything about you. Not where you live, who you socialize with, where you go out to eat-"

"Alright, I get it," I hold up a hand to get him to stop. Then I move it to my face and pull it down in frustration. I take in two deep breaths, hold each in for a couple seconds, then let them out in a slow burst. Only once I'm relaxed enough do I answer Moldo, "Well, you've certainly been straight with me Moldo. First time for everything it seems."

"So? Will you do it?" he leans forward expectantly, eyes shining with the hope that he got through to me.

It is a tall order. Go live in the city that hates my city's guts, live with a couple of their self-entitled brats for two years while dealing with the equally self-entitled populace, try to change their ingrained prejudices against me and everything I stand for, all while searching for a secret society that is trying to start a war between the two cities.

A tough assignment. Though it's not the worst I've ever gotten. That honor still goes to what I did to become the Arch Summoner.

Nothing will ever be worse than that.

So yeah. I'll take the job...but not without a bit extra for me.

"Ok, Moldo, I'll do it," I hold up a finger to stop him from bursting out of his seat, "But, I have one condition."

"Condition?" he repeats, mouth agape at my response, "The very livelihood of our city, our organization, and yourself is at stake and you're trying to negotiate?"

"Not exactly. Negotiation implies both sides have leverage. Which you don't. Either I do this and we both get what we want, or you say no, I leave, and my life goes on as usual while you have to find some other patsy that'll do the job."

"I could fire you if you say no."

"But you won't. As you said, I'm the only Arch Summoner you got," I jerk my thumb towards my chest for emphasis, "Get rid of me, and you just lost a big hitter, while I finally get to retire...in a fashion."

Moldo is silent for a long time. I can't help but smile at the way he squirms while staring me down. I know he's trying to think of some way to wiggle out of this. Some way to get the advantage and make me do what he says without question. Find something he can do as the Magos of Melphis he can use as leverage.

Sorry to disappoint, friend. The ball is my court this time. You got nothing.

After ten minutes he finally relents. He falls back into his chair, anger leaving him in a single sigh. A hand goes to his head as he asks, defeat evident in his tone, "What do you want? What's it gonna take to get you onboard?"

"I think you know the answer to that. Retirement. After this, I'm done. Whether you find a replacement or not," I tap my finger against the table to punctuate the condition.

"Fine," he answers faster than I expected. Probably because he knows I got him beat. He removes his hand from his face while shaking his head, "Can you be ready to go by tomorrow?"

"Sure thing, Magos," I say mockingly before getting up from my seat, "Anything specific I should pack?"

"That's up to your discretion, but be sure to bring that," his gaze meets mine as we share a knowing nod. I grab my cane and make my way to the door. Moldo gets up from his seat, unlocks it for me, and we go our separate ways once we're out of the room.

Hmmph. I've certainly gotten myself into something big. Way bigger than me. And the thing is, searching for the assholes trying to start this war likely won't be the worst part.

No, the worst part will be dealing with those damn Chosen Ones. It'd be one thing if they were in my age bracket or older. I can deal with people like that. But, for some stupid fucking reason, the power the angels give their Chosen starts to wane as they reach adulthood, disappearing just as they hit their 25th birthday.

Meaning, I'm gonna be sharing a house with a bunch of underaged brats.

Joy.