Taught well by the previous experience, Mary solemnly vowed to read the entire documents packet this time before signing anything. Yeah, well, about that… She did try, though. But after half an hour and quite a few annoyed glares from above the Key’s glasses, she gave up and simply skimmed the rest. The exhaustion from before, and the monotony of the office didn’t help with focusing attention either. Although, to be honest, if the office was more interesting, it would probably be distracting her instead. You know those times when you had to do some homework, but you just kept finding yourself deeply immersed in the intricate details of the white wall’s texture, again and again?
She felt a bit reassured by the fact that Mr Wards signed everything, barely looking at what it was. That bit of sprouting confidence was brutally vaporised when the man complimented her on learning the thing by heart so fast, since it took him almost a month to memorise the current standard agreement form, and even that only from the mentor’s perspective. It was beautiful while it lasted, though.
“Ok, that would be it for the papers,” Key announced. “We’ll just get you your SJW, and you’ll be ready to go.”
Mary was sure that she had misheard. She hadn’t.
“Your SJW, Senselessness Jar Walker. Well, it may technically be a flyer these days, but that’s only the case for, like, last ten versions or so, and they’re still processing the paperwork to change its name properly.” She reached under the desk and picked up what seemed like a palm-sized UFO, with a face made of a pair of tiny reflectors for eyes and a set of two rollers for a mouth. She knocked it several times on the top, and a slightly whizzing noise hummed across the room.
“Um… what is this thing?” Mary asked.
“It’s the SJW, the rules of using which you’ve just read about in the papers in front of you. You know, the agreement you’ve just read and signed?” Mr Ward said with a tiny trace of sarcasm in his voice. “But just in case this little detail slipped your mind - you’re a type C hero, which means your life will probably be a bit weird. And since the Government (praised be their infinite wisdom) needs money for installing new staircases in the fractal room down the hall, they decided to kill two phoenixes with one stone. Basically - it’s like a swear jar, but for heroes complaining about stuff, particularly Government (glory to their unprecedented foresight) decisions not making any sense, it’ll give you a fine.
“Eh, don’t worry though,” Key added after seeing Mary’s face, “it’s like students debt - it only comes due after you finish your prophecy. Well, that, or at the age of twenty-five, and let’s be honest - if you live that long, you’ll probably have your prophecy business set in order already. Even for a type C hero, it’s uncommon to take ten years… Well, there is type F twenty-seven, of course, but that’s… eh, never mind. You’re type C, so no point in discussing Fs now.”
“But, but…,” Mary stumbled. “But that makes no sense!”
“Bip!” Said the glorified flying saucer in a robotic voice, whirling its roller-mouth. “Fifty dollars penalty! Bip! SJW is a very sensible project, bip!” A sheet of paper flew from the robot’s jaws and struck Mary right on the forehead.
“Ouch!” Wasn’t unfolded paper supposed to be night inthrowable? She picked the potential murder weapon from the floor. It contained details about the fine she just received, along with a few lines of instructions about proper conduct. Great...
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“On an unrelated note,” Mr Ward said, “those very fair and needed devices are virtually indestructible and synchronise their data almost immediately via quantum entanglement. Also, trying to destroy one is considered a very serious misdemeanour, and the lowest possible sentence for an attempt is a doubling of the currently outstanding fines. Neat, wouldn’t you say?”
Mary wouldn’t say how neat it was because she probably couldn’t afford it in front of that… thing.
“Ok, Key, I think we’re done here. Would you mind lending us a get-out-of-the-department-today card? I don’t have any on me, and it’s been quite a day.”
Judging by the look on Key’s face, she very much did mind parting with one of those, but when her eyes moved to Mary, they softened a bit.
“Oh, alright, I’ll lend you one… But you still owe me for the previous two!”
“Thanks, Key, you’re the best!” Mr Ward winked at her, and Mary felt like she was missing something, but at that point, she didn’t have the energy to properly care.
The ‘card’ turned out to be… a steak. A large, uncooked steak. Big-enough-to-feed-Mary’s-entire-orphanage-along-with-the-staff large steak. The fact that nuns running it tended to fast a lot, and eat little even when they didn’t, might play a part in that, but that was not the point. The point was, Mary wanted to get out of this building immediately more than she wanted a proper armchair and a good book to read, so if all it took was this last piece of madness, she would bear it happily.
----------------------------------------
Mary left the office with Mr Ward, who took off in a seemingly random direction. She got lost almost immediately, especially since she couldn’t recognise even the first corridor they entered - was any of those she ran through covered in maple leaves before?
“Um, Mr Ward?” she asked.
“Just Bromman, if you don’t mind. Some mentors prefer not to get too close to their apprentices, not to hurt them too much when they inevitably die or mysteriously disappear, but I’m not a fan of this perfectly brilliant idea. With that attitude, I marvel at how they can survive getting up from bed in the morning….”
“So, Bromman, “ the name felt a bit weird in her mouth, “how do you know where to go?”
“Oh, that’s easy. I don’t.” He raised the steak in his hand. “We have a get-out card this time, so I don’t have to bother.”
Mary was about to say something at that, but her SJW internal rotor’s hum sounded especially ominously at that moment, so she decided to keep her mouth shut for a time. Truly, the silence was golden at times like this.
“There it is,” Bromman said as he turned around. Mary did so too and almost started screaming. It was the solid darkness again! And Bromman wanted to find it?
“Oh, don’t worry, it’s nothing dangerous,” he said in a slightly amused tone. “Since we have the payment, this is our way out.”
He tossed the steak into the darkness. What followed was one of the worst symphonies of meat being torn apart and teeth clashing against each other Mary had ever heard, followed by an absurdly loud burp. The fact that she couldn’t see what was causing all that noise somehow made it even worse.
“And now,” Bromman continued, “hold my hand and walk straight ahead. Do not look to the sides, and under no circumstances try to look behind. Oh, and don’t worry about your SJW. Even the department’s dark passage is way too weak to damage the pest.”
Mary closed her eyes for good measure and walked straight ahead.
It seemed like the day would turn out way longer than she wanted it to.