A hurried knock came to the guild master’s door and with a heavy sigh while putting down his latest book trying to source any past instance of a gold or monster having the ability either summon new familiars or to heal wounds. It was so far a fruitless endeavor, sure ‘The Golem’ would appear to heal the giant behemoth that he’d trudge around in, but that was not physical wounds. This group’s latest fiasco was turning a guilder's death sentence, an amputation of a leg into a minor inconvenience. The guild master looked around his office, the walls encroaching upon him as he had a bad habit of grabbing books but never returning them and his office kept getting smaller because of it.

“Come in,” he finally said after straightening himself up some more, noting that he’ll need to requisition the help of a dozen silver earth mages to help him expand his office again while not disturbing his piles of books and notes.

He could hear the shoulder impact the heavy door and start to push it inwards, he’ll need to get the hinges oiled again as the door was meant to slow down a dark guilder. Give them more to burn through or try and hack through to get into his office.

The paige finally got the door open enough that he squeezed himself in and with all haste started relaying what he thought must have thought were the devourers chosen.

“They’re here!” The boy wheezed out.

“What have I told you about pronoun games, who’s here?” was the curt reply as he was too tired for this, his eyes sore from not blinking enough as he’d been staring into books non-stop.

“The pseudos, they went and disturbed all the fire classes demanding mage Flow. A few individuals were injured by the familiar and the Foregess girl when they tried to expel them from the fire mage rooms. They’re on…” He rattled off a far-flung story as fast as he could but was interrupted as the heavy door picked up momentum and slammed open, the door’s wood groaning in protest and the paige jumped and dove behind a pile of books for cover.

With a deepening scowl, the guild master slowly stood up to see a vine fist and arm as thick as Davis’ chest recede away while it started to turn to dust and flake away. The addition of plant dust to the already poorly ventilated room’s collection of book dust was not a welcome sight. The guild master tried to keep his scowl going but the sheer wonder at the sight of the spell got him thinking.

A giant’s arm, not an Ursa, this pushed his theory of summoning new familiars more toward the prospect of it being similar to The Golem, though somehow she did not need to be nestled in the core or heart behind tons and tons of earth or plants in this case.

“Miss Foregess, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He kept his voice stern and placed both fists down on the desk, leaving forward, hoping to intimidate the little silvers. Scanning through the others, he almost did a double take as the little Perdu child was missing her stereotypical headdress and was now carrying around a round plant ball. The Brinks child was skipping along happily, but it was the smile on the familiar that caught his attention. There was a promise of enjoyment there and a sense of pride as he looked down at his master who looked like she was ready to throw down. Her fists were balled up and shaking while in her right hand she was crushing a black parchment.

Black parchment? That would be for a mandatory requisition, but he had not signed off on any such things since their last requisition, and they had not even delivered that one to them, only drafting it for posterity’s sake. The need to keep the books in order against the nobles was a bureaucratic nightmare.

“Where’s Flow!?” She managed to hiss out through grit teeth. It was at this time that he noticed a pressure start to settle in, as though the mana were choked or sluggish around him as she stomped forward.

Looking at this child who was being obstinate and insubordinate would not do, but his eyes could not help but drift down to the crumpled black parchment. He had been in the library or holed up here since the tournament, he’d only just been told by an ecstatic mage Larse about the recent feat of the Perdu child when he had re-doubled his research into these queer children. His gaze shifted back to the smiling familiar and while he addressed the room, his eyes did not leave the smiling visage of the familiar who was resting a hand lazily on the pommel of a sword.

“You’ll be needing to pay for any damages to the door and wall. As for your query about mage Flow, I don’t know, but I also understand that you’ve been rowdy in the fire wing of the guild, yes?” He could see the paige shifting out of the room from his peripheral vision, nobody paying any heed to him as everyone was locked into a staring contest.

“Jess is not a slave to the guild, our last requisition was forced because we were technically at fault, but this, this is too much!”

Things started to fall into place, the guild master briefly recalled mage Flow showing up to his room while he was being regaled by Melanie Larse. Seeing that he was not going to have an opportunity to speak he had left, but obviously, he had overheard Melanie’s story, and the now further crumpled-up black parchment finally fit.

Breaking the staring contest, he stood back up and turned to a cold teapot and cup, pouring himself a cub before taking a seat. He did enjoy weaponizing silence when he could. Taking a seat, he moved to summon a small flame to heat up the cup to intimidate them and remind them that he was the one who wielded authority here. Sitting back, he tried to summon the flame but he did his best to hide his shock when nothing happened.

With increasing strain, he finally got the small flame to appear, though the show was interrupted by the couple of beads of sweat that now marred his forehead. He’d probably need to go see Melanie to see if his recent lack of sleep or poor air quality in his room may be the cause.

He released a fatigued sigh, noting that just heating up his cup of tea had possibly cost him a tenth of his magic when it was normally a small and easy parlor trick.

“Sigh... I can guess that Jeremiah Flow had perhaps skirted a few minor guild procedures and got a mandatory requisition assigned for his arm or perhaps for the boy with the mangled hand, mind you that your familiar did. Now I say skirted as a mandatory requisition needs the guild master to sign off on and I assure you I had not done so. Thus, whatever you have in hand is not even worth the parchment it is written on at this time.”

The tension left the other two girls, but Cara and the familiar did not show any reaction. He took a small sip from his now lukewarm tea before he continued.

“However, in light of this recent rowdy invasion of my office, I have half a mind to actually sign the damn thing right now.” He let the threat hang in the air for a moment. The problem with threats is that this group was too particular, too bright and he had only just sent off Davis to go scare away a Silver Wind mage that had been lurking about ever since these girls returned. He could see the signs of another guild wanting to poach some successful little mages, the recent increase to pseudo-silver would have the other guild master foaming at the mouth to get these three girls to take up permanent residence in their little city.

It also did not help that the Foregess girl was now homeless since the recent failure of the guild to protect her father when he became a requisitioner for a couple of home invasions.

“Now, because proper procedure was not followed, I can have whatever the fine on the improper mandatory requisition be levied against the infringing…”

“Writing! I mean, could we please get that in writing!?” The guild master almost suffered a heart attack when the Brinks child suddenly shouted out and interrupted him. He eyed her while taking another sip of his tea, the gleam in her eyes was something he’d seen many times before in merchants who were still new and unable to hide their emotions when finally landing their biggest deal ever.

He coughed slightly to the side while saying a small prayer for Jeremiah. He’d be fine, being from a small drowning noble household. Drowning noble houses was perhaps a bit too disrespectful, but nobles who have not managed to get a proper gold mage in several generations were essentially on the cusp of having their titles revoked and that often made them a bit more desperate. Hopefully this lesson will help cool Jeremiah’s head and make him see the larger picture and make him more suitable to take over the guild in the future.

“There’s no need, my word and promise ought to be sufficient. I hope that this will assuage hurt feelings and that Jessica. That you might find it in your heart to help out with your unique gifts if possible.” The number of Dens and favors the guild could acquire with this one guilder was enough to possibly allow the guild and city to increase in size severalfold in the next 10 to 20 winters. He’d also need to see if he could ensure that these three were pushed towards safer requisitions. Cannot have our little golden child be injured, killed, or worse, poached.

The guild master became lost in thought as he was thinking about what kind of name for this future monster he’d be able to give her. ‘The Healer’? Too mundane. He threw ought a dozen before he figured that their little city of Denvetti would house ‘The Little Saintess’ would be a great selling feature. More silvers, golds, and some of the more famous parties might set up shop. He was brought out of his thoughts on how to better use the apothecary and perhaps getting the smithy rebuilt to try and ensure that these little pseudo-silvers put down roots when the black parchment was slammed down onto his desk by Cara.

With a frown he slowly blinked at this naughty child who would be something that the guild will need to run a fine line with trying to rein her in as it was obvious that she was the leader of their little group.

“Your word?” She said through grit teeth, he could see a little bit of the requisition between her splayed fingers, seeing the names and that it was for healing. He mentally gave a sigh but was secretly smiling to himself.

“You have my word…” Just as he finished uttering the words, Cara pulled back her hand and the penalty for the requisition that was hidden beneath her palm finally became visible and the guild master was suddenly at a loss.

“No, Jeremiah, you didn’t…” he barely whispered out as he saw that the penalty was not some obscene amount of Dens but a dark mark.

“I’m sorry, I thought it was a penalty of Dens.” He started to backtrack immediately.

“So your word is only worth this much?” Cara said with contempt, but there was a slight falter in her voice as she paled as the room suddenly burst into action. A strong wind blew the many books open, ruffling their pages, some parchment fluttering down from being blown up into the air. A couple of towers of books also started to fall over. The guild master refocused on the Brinks child with a scowl before he did a double take as the room was no longer as crowded. He realized that the familiar had vanished in the blink of an eye.

“Where’s your familiar?” He said while standing up and looking through the room.

“Him? Maybe he had to go to the bathroom.” Cara said, a bit of smugness and confidence showing up in her voice, no concern at all for the disappearance of her familiar or the sudden mess.

“But he was right there?” The guild master pointed at the now vacant spot and a small sense of dread started to claw at his heart.

“Oh!? Then after your promise, I’m thinking he’s gone dark guilder hunting. You know it is an open bounty and we had the word and promise of the guild master that dark guilder Jeremiah Flow would be assigned 4 dark marks for ‘skirting’ guild rules and policies.” The venom in her voice was thick as she crossed her arms waiting to see him walk this back.

He was now stuck in a predicament. He started to weigh a promising silver and his future retirement against the value of these three future monsters. The other issue was that the familiar was already gone in search of Jeremiah. If these three helions raised a formal complaint, the guild would run afoul of some of the rules for mishandling requisitions, and then the entire guild could be assigned a dark mark. The guild master felt like he aged another 10 winters right there on the spot as his shoulders started to slump.

With a heavy sigh, he turned around to a large cabinet with dozens upon dozens of small drawers. His hand moved to the top row where a few drawers had silver inlays. Opening one up, he started to slowly riffle through dozens of silver plaques, twins of those created and handed out to each guilder. Finding the one in question, he pulled out an older silver one from the back with the name ‘Jeremiah Flow’ written across the front.

With an extremely heavy heart, he snapped the compressed earth disk within the plate. The twin would also shatter, notifying the user that they were excommunicated from the guild and were now considered dark. Jeremiah’s family would most likely pay a premium to secure their best hope of a gold guilder in this generation. That or another house that is at odds with them and their businesses may fight for a silver slak mage that would need to serve for 20 winters to clear the four dark marks.

He gave another small prayer for his friend, hoping that he’d get the message and could make it in time to his household for safety and sanctuary.

With leaden steps, the guild master got up and shuffled slowly out of the room past the three girls. After leaving the stifling room, he felt the pressure dissipate as he approached the open foyer on the 4th floor. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, breathing in and feeling the weight finally leave his shoulders, reassuring him that what he was doing was the right thing for the guild in the long run.

His magic was now more responsive after leaving the room behind and he used a bit of earth magic to collect some dirt from the crevices in the floor, forming a small hardened rock. His magic was finally moving smoother and more efficiently. Eyeing the open foyer and seeing the several people milling about, he flexed a bit of magic and had the stone shoot out to the far side of the foyer and hit a giant gong. The stone shattered and a low sonorous sound echoed throughout the entire guild.

He clasped his hands behind his back and stood at attention as people started to run to the various balconies and then dozens of leads started to gather down below. After judging enough time had passed and the almost two hundred people, mostly leads had rushed into the central foyer and were all whispering to each other.

Holding up a hand for silence, he began.

“It is with great pain that I must note that a recent infraction has resulted in one of our own earning themselves several dark marks.” The crowd burst into hushed whispers.

“As of right now, Jeremiah Flow, for the crime of manipulating guild registries and requisitions is designated as a ‘dark guilder’ effective immediately.” The whispers now broke out into full-on conversations and only after keeping his hand raised above everyone for several moments did they finally calm down.

“As a reminder, there are dark guilders who through the noble system are assigned dark marks that can be worked off as a slak mage for 5 winters per mark. The others that are assigned a dark guilder title due to committing atrocities are different. Jeremiah Flow is no longer a part of the guild, nobody is to provide shelter. He is still from a minor noble family.” The guild master left that last bit to hang there, most people would know that noble houses would pay double or more to guarantee the safety of one of their own. Jeremiah for all his stupidity of late should be smart enough to not make it worse. Dark-mark guilders that panicked would sometimes try to defend themselves, possibly killing others and making their circumstances worse. Jeremiah should be smart enough to not make such a mistake.

He could hear the footsteps behind him when he felt that insufferable pressure return as the girls approached and started to head towards the stairs to leave. He turned in shock to look at them and was able to hear the tail end of their conversation as the pressure disappeared as they got further away.

“... is he?” Jessica was asking.

“Not sure, I can feel through the link that he’s moving fast, far away.”

“Any chance he’ll go for the larger reward?” Zoe then asked.

“Pfft! Haha. Ya. Right. He’s gone to go collect five silver Dens if you are lucky.” Cara replied with a dry laugh.

“So if we’re unlucky he’ll bring back 80?” Zoe’s voice was hopeful.

“It’s five or zero. No way from everything he’s been lecturing us about ‘leaving threats’ will he not be killing mage Flow. The question is if he even remembers to collect the reward. Let’s go grab a real requisition and head out.” Cara said with more and more confidence.

Hearing the girls’ discussion as they left down a stairwell, the guild master felt his heart tighten more. All he could do was hope that Jeremiah would feel his guild plate shatter and he’d immediately leave with a carriage back to his household for safety.

With a heavy heart, he looked back at the uninviting office and instead of returning decided he’d go for a walk, to get some fresh air and maybe see if he could find Davis and start training up a new replacement. If Jeremiah escaped, he'd be indisposed of for twenty-some-odd winters and the guild master could not wait that long. He desperately wanted to retire in three to five and he'd need all that time and more if he was to even get Davis close to good enough.