Ezpio N’Cazuz hesitated in front of the imposing wooden door. It was the first time in his six-year service to the Master of the University of the Mundane that he didn’t just barge through the ornately carved door, but then this was the first time that he had completely failed to complete his assignment. He looked around the hallway, suddenly feeling oppressed by the looming statues of previous Masters. The Master’s office was in the most luxurious part of the University, everything was intricately carved and covered with gold leaf. Really taking everything in for the first time since his first assignment all those years ago brought his feeling of inferiority roaring back. He swallowed hard, girded his loins, and knocked on the door.

“Enter, Ezpio.”

He flinched slightly as the Master recognised him without him needing to announce himself. Ezpio opened the door and entered the office. The Master’s office was richly furnished, with a deep, red carpet that made Ezpio want to lie down on it. The walls were covered in leather-bound books on dark wooden shelves. The Master herself sat behind an enormous desk, carved with symbols of the sciences studied at the University of the Mundane. She was an elderly woman, her hair grey, bordering on white, and her face was deeply lined by age and worry. She looked tired, tired beyond even her advanced age.

“Well Ezpio, I assume from the fact that you knocked for the first time in years that you don’t have good news for me,” she said with a sigh. Ezpio shook his head before replying.

“My apologies Master Korkool, but I have scoured the area, and spoken to all of my network. Nothing, no information at all, not even an unsubstantiated rumour.”

Ustada Korkool sank even further back into her giant chair. She swept a rebellious lock of hair from her eyes and sighed. She leant over to a drawer in her desk and pulled out an ornate golden case. She flicked it open and pulled out a long, thin cigarette. She offered the box to Ezpio, who took one before lighting them both with a fire Skill. The elderly Master took a long drag on the cigarette and blew out a stream of purple smoke.

“Gods preserve, how is that possible? Someone must know, it must be one of the other Universities. What else is even possible?” Ustada asked her chief of information.

“I don’t know Master. None of the other Universities have declared having gained the titles, I have found nothing. I am sorry, I have failed you.” Ezpio bowed low as he apologised.

“Do not bow, my young friend. You tried your best did you not? I will not punish you for not finding information that no one else can find, in less than two decadi. We will find the titles, we will recover them.” Ustada spoke softly, pausing to take a long drag on her cigarette. “I have called in all the favours I am owed, and a few more besides. All resources are going to fund the departments that have lost the prestige of being the most advanced in the world. Now, you look exhausted. Tell the [Head Chef] I sent you and get some food in you. Then rest tomorrow. If no information has been found by now, none will be found in one more day. Rest and return in a decadi if you don’t learn anything.”

Ezpio bowed slightly and turned to leave. As he turned the handle he looked over his shoulder.

“How are you holding up? You lost two, didn’t you? Losing that many Stats must be hard.” Ezpio asked quietly. Ustada nodded briefly and gestured for him to leave.

“I’m ok, Ezpio, thank you. Losing Stats is strange, not painful but tiring. I shall manage. Now go, we are both exhausted.”

Ezpio finished turning the handle and left, closing the door behind him. Ustada Korkool, seventeenth Master of the University of the Mundane in Gardaine, found herself alone to face the disaster. It was her responsibility to guide the University and under her watch it had lost most of its Peerless titles, and its only Paragon. She stood up, pushing her heavy chair backwards as she walked over to the large bay window.

“[Privacy Screen]” she said, her palms placed against the window. The walls, floor, windows and ceiling flashed briefly yellow. All sound was suddenly cut off from outside. Ustada leant her forehead on the window as she looked out over the University grounds. The University grounds that had been her home for the last sixty-two years, ever since she capped her [Scullery Maid] just before her sixteenth birthday. As a [Student], a [Research Assistant], a [Researcher], a [Professor] and finally as the [Master of the Mundane]. Her entire life spent in service to one of the most prestigious universities in the world, and when she finally achieves the highest office the whole thing goes to shit. She banged her head softly against the window before retreating to her desk, unable to stand the sight of the campus that she had failed.

“But how,” she lamented to herself, “how is it possible that we lost so many titles in such close succession. If any of the other institutes for the study of the mundane had people that were even close to breaking through to Advanced Skills in any of our domains we should have known, they should have been bragging everywhere.” The elderly lady sagged, her head in her hands. Who could get so many people to evolve so many skills in one go? Only the Ferylth Empire and the Merton Consortium of Cities were anywhere close, and Dusata Adhipaka would be rubbing her face in it as hard as he possibly could if it had been the Mertoni.

Ustada laid her head on her desk and pulled another cigarette out of the box. She lit it with a flick of her fingers, her head still on the desk. After a few drags the ash fell on the desk. She stared at the little pile of ash as the paper underneath began to smoulder. She blew out a streamer of purple smoke before sitting up and patting out the fire. She screwed the damaged document up and tossed it into the bin, wincing as she felt the loss of Dexterity. A twenty-five percentage point loss meant that she had lost seventeen percent of most of her Stats, and even two decadi later she felt weak and tired and slow. She flipped open the golden case and scowled at the three cigarettes left. She sighed heavily and lit another one off the end of the last one. She stubbed the butt out and disintegrated it with a snap of her fingers.

She stood and walked heavily over to a bookshelf. She stepped through the illusory shelves into her bedroom. She whistled a jaunty little tune entirely in opposition to her mood. A large grey owl dropped out of the rafters and landed on a perch next to Ustada. She reached over and ruffled its feathers affectionately. The owl chirped and nipped playfully at her fingers.

“Ah, Minthena, what are we going to do? Has Wikia forsaken us? Have we not been faithful enough to the Goddess of Knowledge, not sufficiently diligent in our studies?” She looked sharply at the owl as it opened its beak. “Don’t answer that, obviously we haven’t been if some other group of researchers has managed to figure out how to evolve so many skills when we have been stuck at one hundred for almost a generation.”

The owl, Minthena, cocked her head and hooted softly. Ustada sighed and disintegrated her cigarette.

“I know, I know, I picked a bad decadi to stop smoking. Let’s just hope that it doesn’t get any worse and that no other bad habits flare up. Surely things can’t get any worse.”

Minthena hooted twice, louder and more forcefully, then chirped once.

“No I said surely, why would you think that I called you Shirley? I named you for Wikias sake!”

The grey owl chirped.

“Well, it’s not a very funny one. Anyway, I’m going to bed, I’ll let you out.”

With a wave of her hand Ustada Korkool, tired Master and former [Paragon of the Mundane] dropped her [Privacy Screen] and opened a window for the owl to fly out of. Minthena turned as she left and closed the window with a blast of wind from her wings before soaring off into the night. The old professor made her way slowly over to her bed and fell into it, the weight of responsibility seeming to push her down into the luxurious mattress.