There had been two hundred and ten years of peace on the continent, and all the high races of Regelis commemorated Reconciliation day. Great parties were held, cake and generous amounts of alcohol were consumed, and all sorts of bad decisions were made. This was no exception in the city of Dalen. But for some, this just meant a lot of extra hours.

Aethel was standing in the middle of his place of work, looking over the empty mugs and plates littering every table in the café. He was exasperated. He had to practically force the last of the customers to leave, even though he’d let them stay a while over closing time. The pale man ran his fingers through his hair. Despite being fairly young, his short pitch-black hair had a line of grey running through it. He didn’t care for it.

Aethel took a final gander across the messy room before he decided to do things his way. He was meeting Teddy at the pub after work to celebrate like the rest of the town, so he’d like to get done as fast as possible. Cleaning up by hand, however, would not be very efficient by Aethel’s standards. He went over to the windows to close the blinds. It was dark out so every person walking by would clearly see what he was doing, and he most certainly didn’t want that. His way of cleaning was not suited for the eyes of the public, especially not a rowdy and drunken public. Aethel was just about to reach the last blind when he met the eyes of a young woman of small stature outside. She was walking down the street with a group of friends, all dressed in similar dark clothing. ‘A gang, perhaps?’ He thought. The woman locked eyes with him and to his dismay, smiled an impish smile and began to skip up to the window. Her dark curls bounced with every stride as she yelled and waved at him.

“Not open!” He shouted through the glass and pointed to a sign at the door, but the woman didn't seem to care. She stopped in front of the window and started to blow warm air on it, forming a layer of dew. Aethel sighed as she began drawing. She drew a circle, then another circle, and then a long- ‘Ah, a penis.’ He realised.

She burst out laughing, and so did the rest of the group standing behind her. Aethel couldn't help but smile a little but shook his head at the childish display. He had things to do and places to be, and so he hastily waved goodbye and closed the blinds. Her face turned to a small pout just before the window was blocked between them. She was cute, Aethel thought, but he had the whole night to “socialise” if he so pleased. Right now there was work to be done, and Teddy was probably a beer down already.

Now that the blinds had been shut, and all potential peepers were out of the equation, he could finally get started. Aethel sat down in the middle of the establishment, on the floor. He crossed his legs, took a deep breath and shut his eyes. He focused on the room and all it contained, and a picture started to form. It was almost as if he saw the surge moving and entwining in streams around the area. It was completely erratic. To him, it looked like the room had a gravity-defying liquid flowing wherever it desired, but in truth, he did not actually see it at all. Aethel always hated when people asked what it was like to connect with ambient surge, what it looked and felt like. He might as well just have a crack at explaining algebra to a dog. He often said it was like feeling and seeing at the same time, just to get them out of his hair. That was, of course, a gross oversimplification.

Now that he was properly focused on where the surge streamed, he started to focus on where it didn't. For where the main current stopped and turned, smaller surge streams began. They were within the items lying about and formed a clearer painting in his mind. He made out the chairs and bins. Tables with cups, plates and cutlery. In between he found dirty paper napkins and half-eaten slices of cake, mixed with used chewing tobacco and other disgusting little surprises. Finally, he was in full control over the room, and so he moved his attention towards the kitchen. He felt a broom lying in the corner beside a large bin, a tablecloth on the countertop and a tub of steaming soap water on the floor by the back door. He had already known exactly where he'd put these things, so sensing them was trivial compared to the mess in the dining area.

It had been a long while since he had done such an extensive manipulator feat, and so he felt a slight headache starting to build. This made his mind wander towards the streak of grey he had running through his hair and he felt a slight pang of worry, but after a deep breath he managed to chase the thought away, letting the image of the establishment settle in his mind. He didn't want to stay here a moment longer than he had to. He had plans tonight, with many mugs of beer, and he wasn't going to miss another instant of it.

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He reached into the surge within the different objects spread around the room, and the surge obeyed his command. Cups, plates and cutlery slowly rose into the air. Then each individual piece started to make its way towards the kitchen, forming a neat line once they arrived by the entrance to the room. When they were floating in place like this, it was easier to focus on one at a time, so with precise control over surge, they were dipped one after the other into the soapy water and scrubbed clean. Once done, they were placed neatly on shelves or in drawers depending on the item in question.

Now that Aethel had that going, he began focusing on pieces of trash, old cake and used paper napkins. They too started hovering and flew methodically towards a spot above Aethel's head, forming a ball of garbage. There was a lot of trash, but the closer an object is, the easier it is to manipulate, so collecting the sphere close by seemed the best option. When the sphere was in place, he began to compress it, as it would be easier to get rid of it that way.

At last, there was only one more variable to this mess, the surfaces. Aethel shifted his attention to the broom and cloth in the kitchen, and immediately felt his headache grow. Manipulating a whole room this way was a mental battle of intense focus, but after a moment of concentration, the broom and cloth flew hastily out of the kitchen. The broom dusted the floor quicker than he could ever imagine doing himself, and the cloth dashed from table to table at a ridiculous speed. If he could, he would’ve smiled, but he didn’t have the capacity to lend those muscles even a grain of mental power. There was a rhythm to all of this, and it felt fantastic. Like a band of merry musicians, the plates sang a cleaning song, the sphere of trash left a deep undertone and the broom and cloth drummed away. This was what he was meant to do. Pushing his brain to its limits to give rest to his aching body. Being so lazy had never felt so good.

Then the cloth suddenly impacted another presence he hadn't picked up on in his web of activities.

"AETHEL!" Someone shrieked in a high-pitched voice, and just like that, all of his intense focus fell apart. An explosion of noises sounded from the kitchen as at least fifteen different sets of ceramic dishes crashed into the floor and fell apart into tiny pieces. The ball of trash hovering above his head exploded and scattered the garbage across the entire room. And as if on queue to round off his composition, the broom fell with a sharp twang to the floor. Aethel opened his eyes reluctantly to see his boss, the owner of Quartzlight Café standing in front of him. He was holding the yellow tablecloth and had a wet spot in the middle of his fine tunic. Aethel didn’t say anything, he simply sighed and stood to his feet. The man was positively shaking with rage, his face wine red. As Aethel met his eyes, however, he noticed a tinge of something else. Uncertainty.

“Out of all days, you choose this one to use that godforsaken magic to completely trash the place!” He emphasised the word ‘magic’ as if just saying it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“To be fair…” Aethel began before the man cut him off.

“NO! No, no no! I will not hear it! I’ve told you again and again that I will not have that in my establishment!” He waved his finger around as he spoke. At one moment it looked as though he was going to strike Aethel, but the lingering uncertainty made him think better of it. ‘If only you would…’ Aethel thought to himself. He had grown to resent his boss over the years, and would definitely not hesitate to strike back.

“Now I have to spend the entirety of my day off tomorrow, cleaning up a mess that YOU made, doing exactly what I told you NOT to do!” As he talked, Aethel raised his hands defensively.

“Look, I can…” Again, before he could finish his sentence, he was cut off.

“No. You. Can. NOT!” He poked Aethel in the chest with his finger to accentuate the last word, and Aethel felt himself flare up in response. His boss seemed to realise that and quickly put the finger away. The two men stood there and stared at each other for an intense moment, before his boss drew a deep breath and squeezed the bridge of his nose.

“Get out, and don’t come back, Aethel.”

He wouldn’t need to tell him twice. He tried to calm himself down as he walked past his boss, and out the door. Had he not come for a surprise visit and ruined his entire plan, the café would be squeaky clean by now. Cleaner than it had ever been before. At least since Aethel did this last time.

“Fucking freak…” He heard his boss say under his breath as he closed the door behind him. Aethel stopped dead in his tracks right outside of the café and turned around. He met the eyes of his former employer and held them. The man inside the establishment hastily locked the door and gazed sheepishly at him, failing to hold his mask of anger. With a dramatic flare, Aethel flicked his wrist, and all of the chairs inside were flung to the ground in a choir of crashing wood. The man jumped at the sound and turned to find an even bigger mess. Content with his unvoiced threat, Aethel left for the pub to meet his childhood friend, Teddy.