It turned out a while meant exactly fifteen minutes.

Ed had been tracking one of those digitized clocks on a board since the moment he’d sat down, so it was almost precisely the moment that he’d just about given up on the fact that whoever’d show up would show early. That Mr. Garry sort of just popped into existence across from him.

He sort of stumbled a little, then fell into the chair Ed left open.

“Hey, kiddo!” He nodded at the bat. He looked somewhat nervous for some reason, and his eyes kept darting to the sides. “Bit more comfortable now?”

“Not really.” Ed said. He pushed over a pretzel. “Want a pretzel?”

“Ah-” His mouth drew into an o. “Actually, you know what? Yeah. I could go for one.”

He paused, muttering something and darting his eyes again before gingerly picking it up from the side. “Clever little things.” He looked up from the pretzel, tearing off a small piece so he could drop it into his mouth. It was top down. “I think I had one of these as a kid you know?” He said between a chew. “Human food is just so quirky sometimes.”

“It’s not poisoned or anything.” Ed cut in.

Mr. Garry froze. “Oh man.” He seemed to laugh nervously a little. “That could have been awkward. Half forgot I wasn’t an avatar here.” Despite saying that, he continued eating the pretzel.

“Oh that reminds me," he reached down next to his waist and Ed finally noticed the large brown satchel next to it. He pulled out a large black book. It made a very satisfying thump as he placed it on the table. There was a large golden IV emblazoned on the front. Mr. Garry tapped the cover.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Prime material law, the fourth and most recent edition. There’s actually a lot of laws on this sort of thing.” He raised a hand. “I know! I don’t really know how to get around the trust part but if you want I can just leave you here with this, you can read through it—I’d start subsection A, page five twenty two. Or maybe one, or, err, look it’s in the twenties, I know that for sure. Goes over minor spark protection laws—Anyway, I can just leave you alone with that. Boop, disappear, never see me again! Ah, you gotta remember though.”

He pointed at the book as he took another upside down bite of his pretzel. “That thing’s probably your first and only line of defense against any weirdo’s out there.”

Right, of course, Ed thought to himself as he watched Mr. Garry dust off his fingers. He didn’t seem to quite know what to do with the garbage. “So you're a wizard.” Ed said before could stop himself.

“Nope.” Mr. Garry said curtly. Finally deciding to simply pocket it. “I’m a mage. Technically archmage if you care about the semantics but I only ever reached first circle in two fields so there’s that. Memory and illusion if you’re curious.”

Well, if he was open for questioning. “Why did you kidnap me?”

Mr. Garry looked somewhat sheepish now. “Oh that? Eh, I mean I thought you were like some advanced homunculus or something. Might have dissected you there if I didn’t dot my circuits.”

Ed’s palm twitched. “You were going to dissect me.”

“Oh no! Not at all!” He tapped the book again. Glancing to the sides. “We’re protected under like a hundred—”

There was a sharp crack, then a hollow boom, like a roll of thunder and then a sort of semi-spherical zone of empty air suddenly materialized around them in perhaps about a sharp five meter radius. Because, well… everything beyond that was black. It swirled around the zone in a sort of dark billowing cloud and while Ed could barely see an inch past the barrier and even then only because of the incredibly bright sphere of light hovering next to Mr. Garry’s head, he swore he could hear a short series of very militaryish sounding shouts from beyond.

“I knew I’d have to use that.” Mr. Garry wrinkled his nose, he was still seated. Ed was very much not though, bat in hand, belly on the floor as the smoke began to clear. “Well Ed, this probably isn’t the best introduction and all.” He started muttering again, eyes darting between some unknown points on the barrier. “But, err, welcome to politics.”