“Faengil.” Flip was extremely familiar with the tone he was being addressed with now. It was a tone that people who had known him since he was a child often used when they still saw him as a child. It didn’t matter that he was an old man now, when a elf lives for a few hundred years they tend to see anyone younger than them as children.

“Sir…”

“No. No.” The mayor, let out a long sigh and placed a hand on his desk. “Faengil. You still have years left before you could possibly pay your debt in full. And you know we let you stay in your uncle Philmarten’s tower as a kindness, even though he did not leave it to you after his passing.”

“I did not actually know that,” Flip interrupted the old elven man, an attempt at sarcasm clear in his voice.

“A tattered piece of undergarment with a signature and the words “give him the tower” written on it do not count as a legal will and testament.”

“Philmarten seemed to think that was enough.”

“He thought ten thousand gold clasp was enough to pay for the damage caused by your family, too. But he was very wrong about that, wasn’t he.”

The wizard shrank back in his seat at the tone of the mayor sitting across from him. It wasn’t enough that the elf had intentionally set a shorter chair out for guests, but he had to talk down on them too like they were children and he their father. The mayor’s righteous indignation that he spat towards Flip didn’t quite have the effect intended of course, but Flip couldn’t help but retract when faced with that tone of voice coupled with the memories of burning houses, angry mobs, and death.

“Nonetheless, Faengil, and I do say this with the greatest effort to be impartial that I can muster, we will not be increasing your debt. As I am sure you remember, your debt paid stands at thirteen thousand one hundred ninety-six clasp. And given your assistance with this last demon, the town is willing to extend your next payment deadline until after next harvest. I’m sure you can imagine we have much bigger issues to deal with leading up to then.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it? Faengil, I’ve given you an extension on your already overdue payment.”

“You could have written that in a letter. Is this about the roses?”

“So, you admit you destroyed them?”

“Did your wife ask you to try and scare me?”

“Did you destroy the rose bush she has been guiding into a swan for the last fifty years?”

“Yes.” Flip sighed and looked down as he answered.

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“Between us, I hated that bush. I know you’d never admit to destroying them if I asked you over a letter. Knowing you, you’d burn the letter. I’m not about to write down that I hated that bush either. Mara was doing poorly with the bush, so you saved her some embarrassment. She’ll never admit that though.”

“So, where does that leave me?” Flip felt more and more like a child ever passing second he spent in this office that hadn’t changed in all the years he’d seen it. Even with the mayor softening somewhat into a more casual conversation, there was still a clear power imbalance.

“Forger Morgan and Priestess Devo have both been able to provide adequate blessed water for the guard to extinguish the town. Between that, the charms some citizens were provided, and your assistance with the demon, we will be able to begin rebuilding quickly. I would ask for your help with that; though, from what I hear, the magic you would be able to employ to meet that end is quite disturbing. I will be, however, requesting that you assist that mercenary with the work he mentioned while I met with him.”

“He intends to rob Velsaffe’s tomb.”

“As it was explained to me, and I employed one of forger Morgan’s truth scrolls, he has been hired by the Velsaffe estate to retrieve a record from the tomb. That hardly constitutes robbery. And, as he explained, he is willing to pay an exorbitant amount for you to assist him.”

“How much did he pay you?” Flip gritted his teeth as he asked. Dovhran was smarter than he had let on, though he hadn’t exactly played the fool either. The mercenary had probably learned about Flip’s debt while wandering the town.

“He didn’t pay the town anything. He did offer to pay me to force you into working with him. I turned him down, as that would have been a bribe. But considering his assistance in the fight with the demon, and I understand from priestess Devo that he was instrumental in preventing your death and killing the beast, the town owes him a debt. Rather than collect that debt properly, Mr. Sommar has requested your assistance in exchange for the assistance he has already given.”

“Thirty thousand won’t put me much further through the debt. Assuming he pays at all, and that I live, I’ll still have a few thousand sitting over my head. Frankly, I don’t think he’ll pay. Moreover, I don’t think I’ll survive. Which leaves the town without it’s wizard’s income.”

“On the contrary. Mr. Sommar agreed to close out your debt up front if you agreed to assist him.”

Flip’s jaw almost dropped. With little else to say, the wizard merely sat aghast.

“I’m guessing the record which he has been hired to retrieve has rather large significance. Though why he insists on hiring you is beyond me. He could have hired any other member of the cords. Speaking of which, I was not informed that you had joined that particular guild. I find it hard to imagine that you’ve been able to pay guild dues while so far behind on your payments.”

Mayor Fielding was about to turn back onto the matter of debts and guilt, Flip could feel it. The man tended to talk in circles, always coming back to his original thought somehow; even if he rambled off for an hour in another direction. It was probably a side effect of living so long. Such a long lifespan probably did strange things to the mind.

“I will accept the job.” Flip looked back down again, eyes lingering on his interlocked fingers. “But you need to consider my clan’s debt paid.”

“Of course. That is the agreement.” Mayor Fielding was smiling now, a drastic change from his disappointed flat line of a mouth and furrowed brow. “What’s more, if you survive, I will transfer ownership of your uncle’s tower over to you. Just as an incentive to return and stay in town.”

“If I die, level it. Cover the ruins in cement, bury it, and salt the earth.” Flip looked the mayor in the eye to convey that he was being sincere. “The magic in it is too volatile without a wizard to dismantle it carefully.”

“Very well, Faengil. It seems we are finally going to overcome the tragedy of the Finnegan clan. One way or the other.”