“If the business owner is suspected of tax fraud, every three months, he will undergo a swift tax audit by surrendering the daily ledger,” I look at said ledger by my side and nod. “Truth stone and appropriate skills will be employed by an enforcer of the law specialized in credit collection. In case the amount of unpaid taxes can’t be estimated with certainty, the enforcer will collect information on the products in storage and whether their trading volume is in line with the expenses and earnings. In case it’s not, the enforcer will submit, under truth stone, an oral and written report to the Watch. The business owner will have seventy days to pay the estimated difference, plus a fine to cover the costs of enforcing the law and a 3% interest rate on overdue taxes.”

I rub my eyes, take a sip of my coffee – yeah, we have coffee now – and meditate about killing myself. I would like this to be a joke, but bureaucracy has always made me feel like this. This time, though, I said I would take care of it.

“Ouch,” I hiss in pain. “My stomach.”

When I look around, I realize we are at peak hour, and many people are running back and forth, herded by Tiberius and his clacking leg. Lucillus is sitting at the table with me, my moral support. Antoninus is making sure no one disturbs us.

“Joey, I guarantee you, this is pretty much all you need to know, really. I’ll hire an [Accountant] tomorrow. You double-checked every single document, including the property ones. No one is so thorough. Come on, let’s eat something.”

“If I eat, I’ll vomit right after. No thanks. Give me some water to dilute all this coffee,” I gesture at him.

Anxiety grips me by the shoulders; my shoulder joints, in fact, feel like they are being compressed, squeezed by a spectral hand. Hell, I should have gotten some anxiety medication. I feel my eyes starting to water, and I take a few deep breaths to avoid breaking down.

“Would you like if I double-checked the ledger again?”

“Yes, thank you.”

I put down the magic quill that doesn’t need refilling every ten seconds and look at a bunch of notes.

“Lucillus, what is the deadline for handing in the documents again?”

“You can ask for a collecting service every three months. A [Collector] will come here and give you an additional layer of assurance. Few people go for that option since it’s harder to evade any taxes. A [Collector]’s statement means your chances of getting audited are almost zero.”

“Would you come with me to request one tomorrow?”

“Sure. Are you not eating anything, though? You haven’t eaten since this morning.”

“I’ll puke,” I reply.

“Ok,” he nods and checks the ledger once again, sneaking glances at me from time to time.

I scratch the slight stubble under my chin; when I touch my notes with the same hand, I see a faint redness on the weird Elven paper. I touch the skin under my chin again and find some traces of blood. I close my eyes for a second, trying to collect myself and avoid scratching the nervous itch.

Enough, Student. [Dreamless Sleep]

…

The next time I open my eyes, I notice I somehow ended up in my room and that it’s morning. What the hell just happened?

I have seen your condition before. Students becoming erratic when confronted with deadlines or apprenticeships that were too demanding. Soldiers who couldn’t sleep after a shift of guard, thinking they saw something they didn’t report. [Mages] who had nightmares so terrible they had to take the strongest sleeping draughts to shut their eyes even for a few minutes.

The sleep took a lot of my anxiety away, thankfully. Still, another terrifying day awaits me.

“Lord Juler, this is normal for me. I am terrified of paperwork, and that something will go wrong. That I will end up in jail, bound and gagged for eternity because I didn’t sign a document in the right place. If you have a spell for this, I’ll take it. Or a potion I could brew. An Enchantment. Could we enchant a [Calm] spell on the whole bakery? Or on my clothes?”

You didn’t practice magic for one second yesterday because of this great fear. You didn’t help the [Princess] like you said you would. You were an inconvenience for your [Guard] friend. You could learn to blast the Watch into oblivion, but you spent all your time double-checking everything, reading more law texts than a [Councilman].

“It is what it is,” I say while feeling the same anxiety creep on me again. But I can’t avoid the paperwork anymore, can I? I get up, hoping I can finish my readings today. Oh, and I need to ask for a [Collector] visit. God.

As I get up, my body suddenly falters, and everything goes black.

When my sight comes back, I’m in the white palace of Lord Juler, the [Supreme Archmagus].

“I have fought magical plagues and monsters that would make the greatest warrior in the world tremble, Joey Luciani,” I find the guy sitting on a chair, surrounded by pieces of parchment full of graphs and numbers. “Magic is the greatest thing in the world, but I found myself helpless at first when some of my students had similar problems. I tried many things, including the remedies you mentioned before. Nothing like that worked – in most cases, it made things worse. Some became addicted to the tonics and spells, unable to live properly without them. Sometimes, our physiology is more complex than magic, but nonetheless, it calls for simple, almost embarrassing solutions.”

Lord Juler gets up from the chair and walks up a couple of feet from me.

“My peers laughed at me when I formulated an elegant solution for this. See, everyone looks for the most complex and articulate roundabout way to do something. When I try to solve a magic problem, Joey Luciani, I have a very different approach. And especially matters of the mind have solutions that many do not consider viable because of pride, detachment, or social norms.” As he smiles to himself, Lord Juler adds: “But a Vanedeni cares not for these things. It’s our nature to vanquish any foe, no matter the price or the effort.”

Having said that, Lord Juler, a man slightly shorter than me but who now looks taller than life, hugs my hunched form and pats my back.

“It’s okay, son. There are no easy solutions to your problem, no magical shortcuts. You will grow accustomed to it. And until you do, I’ll have your back. I take care of my students. If tax collectors have a problem with your documents, we can blast them into the eternal void. And I’ll teach you a spell to remember deadlines and appointments to not worry about them more than you need to. I had problems myself with the royal palace and its bureaucracy. But don’t worry. Everything is fine.”

Hearing the comforting words of Lord Juler and feeling his fatherly hug, I can’t help but sob to myself, hating how silly this fear of mine is.

“Nothing is silly, Joey Luciani. Every foe deserves respect. That’s how the Vanedenis fight. We can scorn them, but we will never make the mistake of fighting with anything less than our best effort.”