Tim struggled to his feet and chased after the old guild master. Up a flight of stairs and out onto the building’s stone steps. Noonday light overtook him and he was filled with awe at the grandeur of the Adventurer's Guild campus. The property was massive and sprawled all the way back to the next strata in the hillside. A small stream and lake were nestled in the middle of a wide open field. Tables and benches set around leisurely. Well-used training fields were laid out in a precise grid. Swordmasters and students practiced in a few. Elsewhere mages were tossed spells at stone targets. A few vendors were wheeling carts out to the park in the middle. The light scent of grilled meat stirred Tim’s stomach.

The old guild master walked briskly down the eastern breezeway. Tim followed. He passed warehouses, administrative services and employee dorms that lined the fields. Soon they arrived at a large six-story building. It looked much like a brick office building. They walked inside and the receptionist rose as Mr. Kubo approached.

“Good morning, this is Mr. Nelson, he has been assigned to the enchantment division and will be starting next week.”

“Very pleased to meet you!” The receptionist gave a polite bow.

“Um, you as well.”

“Has Mr. Briarberry made it in or is he spending his day in the brig?”

“He’s here, although I don’t know how functional he is…”

“Thank you.”

The receptionist bowed again as Mr. Kubo took to the stairs, Tim in tow behind him. The doorway to the first floor had a silver emblem over it.

“Please be aware of the security markings as you come and go. While you have a high clearance as a gold ranked employee, you are not allowed into any spaces marked platinum or management. This building is where we make magical resources for adventurers, and occasionally the kingdom. The ground floor has a lounge, administration area, and bathrooms. The second floor holds the storeroom and regent processing areas.

“Here on the third floor is our inscribing area. Experts carve spells into devices to make magical tools. I think they are working on portable stoves this week. This is still a silver level access since most of the spells are publically available.

“The fourth floor and above are gold level access only. The fourth floor is where they process the special materials to make the parchment for scrolls. They come in several standard sizes and sometimes need to be aged in a solution made from grade 3 cores.

“The fifth floor is where they make spell ink. Please note you are not allowed access to several rooms here as our formulation is top secret.

“And here we are on the sixth floor. The enchantment division. It is a mixed workspace with spell crafters working with second class enchanters. Oh and this is Mrs. Murata, manager of the Magical Productions section.

“Is this the new enchanter?” Mrs. Murata tottered over with a scowl. Her silvered hair was pulled back in a bun so tight Tim was surprised she could frown. A double gold choker tight snuggly against her pump neck.

“Everyone, may I have your attention. This will be your new colleague, Mr. Nelson. He will be working as a first class enchanter.”

A chorus of murmurs filled the room and Tim waved sheepishly.

“Your work station will be over here.” Mrs. Murata said bluntly and waved Tim to a large flat wooden desk. A window, lined with iron bars looked out upon the cragged hillside. On the next desk a red-haired man snored, face down on a drafting table. A collection of wooden monster toys sat atop the desk.

“Wake up Hoban!” The old biddy slapped the back of his head.

“What!” he screamed, “Damn it, you old biddy can’t a man greave!”

“Hoban, sometimes I wish I could just choke you to death. But the good news is you don’t need to meet quota today. The guild master has a special job for you.”

“Unwind your smelly moss crusted panties… Uh, hello sir, I didn’t see you there.”

“Mr. Briarberry, today you’ll be guiding around your new colleague, Mr. Nelson.”

“Call me Tim.” He reached out for a shake and Hoban reluctantly took his hand. His messy red hair tossing forward and pointed ears popped into view. Tim stared for a moment his mouth ajar.

“Yes, I'm an elf. What of it.” Hoban took his hand back and wrinkled his freckled face.

“Um, nothing. I look forward to working with you.

“So, for your shift today and tomorrow,” Mr. Kubo interrupted, “you are to help Mr. Nelson get settled into life here. Just don’t be late for your remedial chores. You are on remedials, yes?

“Ha, ol’ pointy ears has three weeks of them!” Mrs. Murata’s plump figure jiggled as she laughed.

“You’re only happy because you enjoy watching me sweat. Filthy pervert.”

“Keep it up and I’ll find another violation somewhere. But you just love a good choaking don’t you?”

“Oh look at you the dirty dominatrix, choking helpless handsome men gives you such a thrill!”

“Who could get a thrill from some dandelion munching ginger!”

Mr. Kubo rolled his eyes and sighed. “Some days it is a real shame there is a non-lethality clause in our contracts. Alright, enough you two. Manager, may I see you in your office. There are a few details you should know. And Hoban quit pouting and get moving.”

“Yes, sir” the two replied flatly.

Hoban shoved his hands in his pockets and headed for the steps down. Tim followed, not really knowing what to say. Out past reception and into the noonday sun they walked wordlessly when Hoban turned.

“Hey, want to get some food? I know this great noodle place a ways up the street.”

“Sure?” replied Tim’s stomach.

The restaurant was not just up the street. It was down two levels and over a quarter section, hidden along a filthy road. Tim wiped off the chair before sitting down. When Tim looked at the shops that lined the street he thought that this was the slums. And he felt the safety of the food suspect.

“T, Tim, is that you?” A small but brave voice asked.

Tim turned and saw a familiar woman carrying a basket of flowers.

“Oh hey, it was Aerith, right? This is Hoban, he’s showing me around today.”

“Hia girlie.”

“So are you following me? Are you going to try and steal my underwear again?”

“Ack! Don’t tease me like that you bully!”

Tim nearly fell out of his chair when she shoved him. Hoban looked at the blushing woman and back and Tim with a raised eyebrow.

“Do I want to know?”

Tim laughed a few more times then checked up and down the street.

“Here sit, sit. I want to show you something.” Tim pulled out his phone and scrolled through it. “This is a special device from my homeland. So, please don’t freak out when I show you.”

Tim started playing the video McKenzie recorded earlier. He watched Hoban’s eyes grow wide and Aerith turn red all the way up to her ears. The video ended and he slid it back into his jacket pocket.

“So that’s the joke,” Tim said with a proud smile.

“Just who are you?” Questioned Hoban.

“N, never show that to anyone, ever again!” demanded Aerith with her face hidden behind her hands.

“Really, who are you?”

“As of today, your colleague.” Tim ended that line of questioning definitively. Although, the look Hoban gave made him think it would come up sooner or later. “But I’m really just working there until I can find a way back home.”

“Wait, you joined the AG? Oh, and gold rank too! Wow, you must be smart. No wonder you tricked me!”

“Yeah girlie, keep telling yourself that.” Muttered Hoban.

“So what do you do there?”

Tim caught himself; he nearly said Enchanter. But he had learned a little prudence. He looked at Hoban.

“He works with me in Magical Production.”

“Oh, that’s impressive. I was never talented with that side of the gift.”

The cook sat down three massive bowls filled to the brim with steaming noodles and a tankard of wine for Hoban.

Tim took up his chopsticks and tried to grab the slippery noodles. He looked at Hoban who was eating them with ease and then at Aerith who only stared at the food.

“Something wrong?”

“Um, I’m not hungry. Can someone else eat mine too?” She pushed the bowl out and her stomach roared in objection. She hung her head and got ready to go.

“I can pay, don’t worry about it,” Tim replied, having guessed the issue. She did look like she didn’t have much beyond the basket and old garments that were starting to fray at the edges.

“I, I couldn’t do that…” She trailed off as she fought with her stomach.

“Eat girlie, before it gets cold.”

“Yes, sir.” She picked up her chopsticks and began to slurp.

The trio ate in silence for a while. Then Hoban raised his tankard.

“To Tam!” He roared and gulped down the contents. A moment after setting the empty cup on the table the chef refilled it. Hoban swirled the dark wine and commented softly. “She really would have liked this place.”

“Tam?” Asked Tim carefully?

“My sister,” Hoban sighed and took another chug of wine. “I should be on bereavement leave. But that stupid fat cow… Blah blah blah backorder blah blah blah needs of the organization. Screw her. She doesn’t care that us elves process things differently!”

“Oh I'm so sorry,” Aerith said with empathy. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” He finished the cup and let out a healthy burp. “The pride of our village. She was on her way here with her fiancé…” Hoban clenched his jaw. “They took the eastern route to avoid the demon army. But their carriage was attacked by monsters… There was nothing left… And looters took everything. I, I don’t have anything left of my little sister. My little princess.” He grabbed his third cup of wine.

“A carriage?” Tim asked, his heart torn. “What color was it?”

“Black, why?”

“Um, on my way to the city my friends and I were passed by a black carriage. The next day we, uh, found it. I found something ground into the road. I think this may belong to you.” From his inside pocket, Tim took out the mithril necklace and ring.

Hoban took them with a shaky hand and his anger melted into tears. Wet streams poured down his cheeks. He threw his arms around Tim and sobbed in deep heavy convulsions. Aerith lay a hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you my truest friend. I, I will never forget this.”

“Its n, nothing,” Tim replied as he tried to shove the emotional elf away.

“You must let me repay you somehow,” Hoban pleaded.

Aerith handed him a handkerchief.

“It's ok, really. I don’t need money,” Tim paused “I just need to find a way home.”

“Then I swear a familia debt to you, to aid you however I can, for as long as I am able.” Hoban wiped his nose and took another big swig of wine. “And, in memory of Tamalin, we will meet here every Friday and raise a cup in her honor. So long as we are able!”