End of Po-Po-Poffee!?


ED_2.1Time is slipping away. You give a quick look at the spell-driven clock on the wall, where time is quickly moving forward, and tap the floor with your right foot, tormented by this new dilemma.

Leave or not to leave?

Unfortunately, you do not have a minute to spare making pros and cons list. That said, you do not even make mental comparisons. The letter clearly stipulated your client needed your services now, or never. You shiver at the mention of the word “never”. That word shows some sort of a definitive sensation. A definitive rejection.

You are fisting your head, trying to trigger a response since you need to promptly make a decision. I am leaving! Hence, you have made your choice, your face showing determination.

Since the meeting is going smoothly, you doubt your boss will notice—or hope he will not notice—your disappearance. However, you still have to escape this room in an unnoticeable manner.

You glance around to see who needs another refill and grab an empty cup of coffee after rising slowly from your seat. With the reason of your escape in hands, you tiptoe towards the door, passing by employees in deep discussion, and by your boss who keeps nodding at the House Lord’s comments while making guttural sounds of agreements.

As you reach the far end of the room, you bite your upper lips and turn around to verify the success of your fleeing mission; all you can perceive is defined by the back of your boss’s head, covered by his wavy brown hair that move every time he agrees with someone’s sayings. Usually, your boss sits at the other end of the table, facing the door and keeping track of who is coming and leaving this location. However, today your boss is back-facing the door because he left his seat to House Lord Joshua, the new and temporary master of the room.

After examination, you deduct that you can freely walk out without any consequences—direct consequences. Therefore, you slowly push the immense door open, closing your eyes and creasing your face at the possibility of a creak. Then, as soon as a small opening shows itself without a noise, you slip out of the room, and shut the door at once.

Mission successfully accomplished. You sigh.

After you have performed your victory dance, fueled by your proud moment of accomplishment—which rarely happens lately—you feed the empty cup of coffee to the spelly pumpkin jumping in your direction, rush towards the vanishing room corridor, turn back after you have taken a wrong exit, and run all the way to the appropriate location.

“What are you doing?” inquires Serah, voice filled with a peculiar knowledge of your imminent mischief.

You jolt in surprise after hearing Serah’s question that could easily be referred as rhetorical. You turn around and smile. “Nothing.”

Serah’s half-moon eyes are depicting a sense of disbelief; she definitely knows of your plans to escape this vicinity. She simply does not know the reason behind this escape. Yet.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in a meeting right now?” Serah is considered a good friend, if not your best, thus she will undeniably understand and trust your judgment when you tell her the truth.

“I have received a mY-mE during the meeting,” you explain to her, playing with the hem of your shirt, while she attentively listens to you, both hands resting on her hips. Indeed, Serah will understand your choice, but not without speaking her mind first.

“A Myko Message? Is everything alright?” she asks, a little worried.

“Yes!” you yell, eyes shining with excitement. “Actually, it’s amazing! Guess what? Your ad worked!” you happily explain as you bring your hands, joined in a prayer, over your mouth.

“My ad? Oh! My ad! Really?” exclaims Serah, clapping her hands with delight. “But, where are you going exactly?”

“To go see my first client ever!”

“During working hours?” she inquires with a scolding tone of voice.

“It was now, or never,” you tell Serah as an apology. “So, if you see the president, could you tell him I’m on my break? Thank you; I owe you one.”

“You owe me more than one! Skyra, wait! Aren’t you kind of pushing your luck here?” she lectures you, arms crossed under her chest.

“Maybe, but I seriously don’t care. I didn’t work so hard to give up now. Besides, it shouldn’t take too long, thus I shall return soon enough.”

“You’re never back soon enough. You should know that fact by now, Skyra. There’s always something unexpected that comes up with you,” she admits while putting her arms down, proof that she has given up against your stubbornness. The truth is, she never really lasts long when it comes to an argument with you on any given subject, either because your debating skills are beyond amazing, or simply because she knows that you are a lost cause. Either way, you win most of the time.

You shrug. “I’ll see you later. Wish me luck,” you bid Serah farewell as you open the vanoom’s curtain.

“Fine,” abdicates Serah. “I wish you luck. Go get them, tiger!” As Serah cheers for your success, she throws her fist in the air as if she has marked a goal.

“Roar!” You walk inside the vanishing room, draw back the curtain, and put fifteen drops on the chair’s left arm incantation circle. In seconds, you are back in the lobby.

You might be walking the same path you have been following for the past few months, but it now feels different. For the first time in a while, you have the impression that you are not regressing, that you have finally made a step forward.

For months, you have been walking around with an invisible iron ball attached to your feet, trying to climb up the mountain of your hopes and dreams.

However, as soon as you step outside the building, welcomed by a gust of fresh air, your invisible iron ball that has been created by a harsh reality, disappears. Somehow, you feel in charge of your destiny. Somehow, you feel free.

You take a deep breath, and look at the sky where the first sun, shining brightly, gently strokes your face as if it is congratulating your accomplishment while giving you the necessary energy to walk your new path: the path of an Enchanter Detective.


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