Dawn comes and goes. I hear my parents get up and start their day. I don’t want to get out of bed, but I need to get a job. Even with the staples and supplies I’ll be getting today, I want to feel like I’ve done something useful with my day, not just mooched off my parents. Contributing from my savings will last us two or three seasons here. But if I’m working toward a goal that will improve me, increase my likelihood of being hired, and let me explore more magic, that feels like I have a plan and a destination. While it's not much more than I had just a few days ago, it should be enough to put some restraints on the unfortunate “workless is worthless” cadence that occasionally pops up in my head.

Emotionally, I’m still a bit shaky from the enddays. My catharsis has left me much more stable, but also a bit adrift. I’d been hiding in that shell for so long, I’m not wholly certain of things that I was sure of this time last tenday. My parents have been giving me space and support to pursue my dream, but I need to be sure I don’t bury myself in the business of busyness again as a permanent shelter from the world. I still have no real friends, my professional “career” consists of one posting which I don’t have any more, and my life… is just beginning.

Self-affirming pep talk finished, I got out of bed and hurried to the kitchen so I could grab some breakfast and chat with mom. Getting dad to talk before he finished the broadsheet would be a miracle, so we generally just snicker as he hems and haws about the state of the state.

“Slept pretty long there, so I made extra billnut gruel, it’s next to the stove staying warm.” My mother is almost done with her breakfast, my dad only about halfway done, only occasionally eating from his bowl as he reads the paper.

“Thanks. Did you finish up the list for me?” I don’t want to forget to grab the supplies. I plow through the bowl of gruel. It could use something. “What about some honey? Are we out?”

“If you want it, you can add it to the list. I think we have a bit left from before you went to the City.”

I pick up the list and a pencil and add in honey, also making a note to pick up some cheap local dried spices if they have any. Perhaps we can upgrade to fresh mint, basil, and rosemary if I can get some cuttings or a small plant.

I put down the list, then head out to rinse my hair under the pump. It doesn’t help much, but every little bit may count, and it clears out the last of the cobwebs. I use my shirt to towel off my hair as I head back inside to get dressed in one of my 2 sets of nicer clothes.

I walked from the house to the central district where the main guard office was for the town. I walked into the two-storey stone building, and approached the salt-and-pepper haired man in guard uniform who sat behind the raised desk in the middle of the back half of the large entryway. He looked down at me, as I entered.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice gruff and slightly crackly.

“I hope so. I’m here to ask about available positions and how I might go about applying or getting one.”

He looked down at me from his dias, “You’re a bit … scrawny for this aintcha?”

“I admit that’s probably so, but perhaps there are candidate positions or non-patrolling staff needs? I can cipher and my block print is legible. I am a graduate of Pleichston Secondary. Recently I…."

“Yeah, yeah. I don’t need all the details, you’ll have to see the ell tee if’n you want a staff posting. I’ll ring for him, see if he can spare you the time.” He reached below the desk and pulled on something. “Have a seat over by the door.” He pointed me to a long wooden bench against the wall to the left side of the entrance.

I sat there for several minutes before a tall, broad-shouldered man strode into the room from the door behind the desk.

“What have you got for me Sarrent?”

“Cadet applicant. Interested in support staff positions. I thought you’d know if the Cap’n needs any more staff.”

“Not right now.” My heart dropped. “I think we may have an opening in a season or so, Master Drenglar is due to retire soon.”

He walked over to me, and I stood up.

“Grintel Coddlestahl, sir. Glad to meet you.” I held up my hand in greeting.

“Lieutenant Olgrum.” he said, shaking my hand with a firm, confident grip, without trying to crush it. “What’s this about a job? We have a training class at the beginning of each season, usually 3 or 4 candidates. Most seasons we only keep one.”

“Well, Lieutenant, I have until recently worked at the Omniology in Holmberg doing research analysis. I thought you might not get many applicants for accounting positions or other support staff. Since I can read, cipher, and have a passable hand in standard block, I was hoping I might take a position on the support staff, if such existed, at least until such time as I can pass the entrance requirements for a patrolman. I figured that if I knew how the guard worked from the inside, it would make me a better candidate later.”

“Like I told the Duty Officer, we don’t have any openings for such at the present. And the next season’s candidate class is already full. I can put your name on the list in case anyone drops out, but that’s the best I can do for you. Sorry, son. Maybe in a season or so.”

He turned and walked away, taking a big chunk of my hopes and plans with him.