Chapter 473: The Origins Of Doom (1)

To become an adventurer was the dream of more farmhands, stablegirls and dissatisfied nobility than could be counted. As one of the oldest and most esteemed professions, adventurers held a special place in the hearts of the people. They stood as beacons of familiarity, not only rising above the tides of catastrophe, but taming them altogether. 

Whether they were as inspiring as Thomas Lainsfont as he awkwardly waved from a cart weighed down by his drunken companions or a fresh faced rookie battling their first fruit slime, every adventurer wore the same copper ring.

Although it neither shone nor gleamed, the flame which stirred in the heart of every adventurer was a light which brought dawn to even the darkest places.

… However, since the darkest places were also difficult to reach, that meant directions were needed. 

Meticulous directions. 

Often to the exact step. 

Because more than being famed for their courage, adventurers were notorious for getting lost … usually via a trapdoor.

But that’s what the guild receptionists were for.

Aside from coordinating their rescue when an adventurer failed to return from a commission, they also ensured they were offered every advantage available. The guild was an all-in-one shop, stocked with an enormous quantity of weapons, potions and items available for purchase at a discounted rate.

Of course, they did do other things as well.

Information gathering. Organising commissions. Sorting correspondence. Maintenance of the guild hall. Discretionary promotions. And also making sure nothing in the communal cauldron was toxic.

Although adventurers were the arm of the guild, the receptionists were its heart, ensuring the smooth operation of the entire guild network with their long term dependability. 

And that’s why–

“You’re seeking a temporary position for a period up to 6 months, yes?”

Mirabelle … was most certainly not getting this job. 

It was, in hindsight, a very poor confession to make.

Even so, she strongly felt that honesty was better than deceit. Especially when it came to the world of professional networking.

Those in the field of magic generally knew each other. And if word spread that she had suddenly departed her position barely after starting it, it would look extremely poor on her record.

“I’m in Reitzlake to visit family,” said Mirabelle, doing her best to remain comfortable on a wonky chair. “As I’ve no wish to overburden them, I was hoping to take a job that would match my skill set.”

The senior receptionist at the Reitzlake branch of the Adventurer’s Guild nodded from behind the counter. She scanned a scroll of parchment in her hands, taking the time to study every word.

It was strange. 

Mirabelle had never entered a branch of the Adventurer’s Guild before, but while the atmosphere of a boisterous tavern didn’t surprise her, the fact that her job interview was being conducted in full view of the patrons was certainly quaint.

She imagined it was a way of ensuring that prospective receptionists knew full well that this was a role not for the faint of heart–nor those with slow reactions.

“[Barrier].” 

The senior receptionist held up a finger.

Without looking away from the parchment detailing Mirabelle’s academic history, she erected a shield over them both just in time for a splash of mead. 

A total hush fell over the scene, broken only by the rolling of a bottle.

When the noise returned, it was quiet and respectful.

At least for a few seconds.

“Indeed, and what impressive skills you have,” said the senior receptionist, speaking once more over the clamour of laughter and fists striking cheeks. “Many of our receptionists are also graduates of the Royal Institute of Magic, but to score in the 95th percentile is a remarkable achievement. I see you have several accolades from your time as student council president as well.”

“I do.” Mirabelle sat up straight, confident at least in her academy activities if not much else. “As student council president, I was able to organise a number of major activities including the year-end festival. As part of my regular duties, I also saw to the concerns and needs of the student body.”

“A very impressive undertaking, with responsibilities not dissimilar to those of a receptionist.”

Mirabelle nodded, all the while waiting for the but.

“... But with that said, I must inform you that while hiring on a short-term basis is not unheard of, it is rare. The turnover rate for receptionists is low compared to similar professions in our field.”

“I understand. But I do intend to give my very best for each day that I’m here.” 

The senior receptionist looked up from the scroll. She carefully examined Mirabelle’s smile.

Then, after what seemed like an age, she offered a hum of approval.

“There’s no question on eligibility. You have the necessary magical aptitude and possess previous experience in customer handling. The matter regarding your intended length of service may potentially be an issue, but that isn’t for me to consider. It’s for the guildmaster. I’d therefore like to invite you back in a week’s time to speak with Timon Quinsley.”

Mirabelle blinked, stunned she wasn’t being shooed away, much less being invited back.

“Oh. Thank you very much. I look forward to being interviewed by Mr. Quinsley. I’ve heard many interesting things about him.”

“I’m certain you have.” The senior receptionist’s expression noticeably gave nothing away. “With that said, it will not be an interview in the traditional sense, but an … informal discussion.”

“An informal discussion?”

“Mr. Quinsley has his own criteria for hiring. It is not considered standard practice. With that said, he will explain the role in detail as well as assess your suitability.” 

Mirabelle nodded.

She’d heard a great deal about Timon Quinsley … less than half of it she believed to be true. It made sense that the guildmaster of the capital branch would be subject to strange rumours, after all.

All she had to do was prepare to the best of her ability.

Thus, already with the next meeting in mind, she diligently continued the remainder of the interview without incident. 

By the time it was over, there was little to suggest that she’d monopolised an entire 14 minutes to herself. 

In fact, the queue taking her place only appeared when she was making her way outside.

That probably explained why they were recruiting. And so Mirabelle dared to imagine herself behind the counter, all the while pondering if there was a way to check the contents of the communal cauldron without actually taste testing it. 

“Ahem.”

She was quickly distracted by a tidy cough.

Only just past the door and in the street outside, Mirabelle turned around to see a group of young women standing in the shade–all of whom were smiling at her so sweetly she wondered what they were about to sell her.

She hoped it wasn’t a formal dress.

The ones they wore were so sparkling she almost felt obliged to warn them about Reitzlake’s gulls. Nobody quite knew why, but when it came to picking their targets, it was almost exclusively the ones who would have the hardest time recovering from their aerial bombardments. 

And their first target would be the one waving a parchment fan.

Stepping forth from the group, she was a beautiful young woman with golden hair dipping past her waist and eyes as warm as the city’s lake. Which really wasn’t warm at all.

“Salutations,” she said, cooling herself with her parchment fan despite the modest temperature. “A moment of your time, if I may. Were you just now interviewing to become a guild receptionist?”

Mirabelle instinctively dipped her head.

“Yes, I was. I apologise for the inconvenience. I wasn’t expecting my interview to take place at the counter. The receptionist is available now, although I’m afraid there seems to be a queue.”

The young woman offered a small laugh.

“There’s no need to apologise. None of us have any need to hire adventurers just yet. I was only asking because I overheard your discussion and found myself curious. I understand, after all, that it’s typical for graduates from the Royal Institute to enjoy a sabbatical after completing their studies.”

Mirabelle blinked.

A moment later, she glanced back at the door. The door that was also closed and only infrequently opened whenever an adventurer stumbled out.

“Oh my. You must have excellent hearing.”

“Naturally. It runs in my family. We need to pay attention to all things around us. Because every now and again, we might just discover a hidden gem sparkling in Reitzlake’s sidestreets.”  

The young woman snapped her fan shut. She offered a dazzling smile.

“... You may address me as Lady Odette. I’m the eldest daughter of House Clairvaux. I understand you’re seeking employment?”

Mirabelle nodded, as she only could.

Especially since she really wasn’t certain how to speak to an ambushing flock of noblewomen.

“Yes,” she said simply.

“Excellent. Then I shall be brief. My family are the owners of the Clairvaux Winery Group. Our bottles can be found in the homes of the most discerning all across the continent–including those of royalty. The Contzens themselves purchase our bottles, often offering them to the Granholtz ambassador. Suffice to say, our products are beyond comparison.”

Mirabelle smiled politely. Just as she still only could. 

“I see. That’s very impressive.”

“Indeed, it is. It also makes us especially busy. That’s why I’m willing to employ you.”

“... Excuse me?” 

The beautiful noblewoman, Lady Odette, offered a confident smile.

“What can I say? You interviewed splendidly. For someone of your academic achievements, I’m certain you can, no … you will be an excellent boon to my family’s business. I’ve an eye for predicting these things, you see.”

It was an eye Mirabelle didn’t share.

In fact, she was more or less speechless.

She really didn’t expect to be headhunted on the day she went to her very first job interview. But as much as that was a stroke of good fortune, she really wasn’t too certain about being hired off the street.

“Thank you. That’s a most generous offer. However, I’m afraid I know very little about wine.”

“A non-issue. There are roles for everyone, so long as the competency is there. All you need to know is that the salary will be exceptional, as befitting those who work for House Clairvaux.”

“No, I actually do need more information than that.”

Mirabelle stared. Lady Odette almost betrayed a pause.

“Of course. Please rest assured, while the manner through which I’m hiring you is unconventional, the rest of the process is not. If you’d therefore like to accompany me, we can discuss the details of how you might fit in my family’s business in less … untidy settings.”

“Now?”

“Now. My time is limited. But I imagine this will be quick, once you’ve a glance at the estate. To work for House Clairvaux will offer you far more than anything the Adventurer’s Guild can. A moot point, of course. I’m afraid it’s very unlikely you’ll be chosen by Timon Quinsley as his new receptionist.” 

“Goodness. That was fast. I haven’t even met the guildmaster yet.”

“There’s little need to. Even if you meet all the necessary requirements, to become a guild receptionist is a highly sought after role. There are numerous other candidates. Such as myself.”

Mirabelle tilted her head slightly.

For a moment, she considered every possibility the noblewoman had for saying what she just did.

And then, she came up with a simple conclusion.

Yes.

She was currently in a conversation she didn’t want to be in.

“... Did you not just imply that your family’s company is more fulfilling than the Adventurer’s Guild?” 

“For commoners, yes.” Lady Odette flicked back her golden hair. “But for myself, there are many ways to further the cause of my family–and of course, the people of Reitzlake. The guild is one of them. However, as this means I’ll be responsible for removing an employment opportunity from you, I shall take it upon myself to hire you. Naturally, this also means you’ve no need to continue your current application.”

Mirabelle hummed in thought.

This one was new.

After all, nobody had ever attempted to buy her out before.

Maybe that was only to be expected. She’d previously been a student at the Royal Institute of Magic. And despite being able to warp the fabric of reality, mages were routinely unable to create, conjure or concoct anything that could do more than either dissolve or eat gold crowns.

Still, while Mirabelle was willing to offer the benefit of the doubt regarding Lady Odette’s intentions, she was personally uncomfortable with discussing this at the door of her prospective employer.

“I see … I’m very grateful for the offer. But I’m afraid I cannot accept it at present.”

“Oh? And why is that?” 

“While I’m certain your family produces excellent wines, I’d need to research what roles I might be suitable for. I also intend to see through my application to the Adventurer’s Guild before I make any further decisions regarding my career.”

“I’m afraid you’d be wasting valuable time, then. There’s neither need nor sense in attempting to earn Timon Quinsley’s approval, especially when I’m willing to make a far superior offer. You may not know this, but I’m outstandingly qualified.”

“In that case, I’d be delighted if you could secure the position. Rest assured, there’s no need to offer me an alternative role out of sympathy.”

Mirabelle offered her warmest smile.

All it did was cause the one worn by Lady Odette to harden.

“... You’ve only recently arrived to Reitzlake, no?” she asked.

“That’s correct.”

“I see. Then you’re not aware that the charity of nobility is not something to be dismissed. It was made in good faith. It’d be best if you accept it, or else you’ll find that once luck has been spurned, it will never be found again in the royal capital.”

“Thank you for the advice. However, as mages, we’re able to make a little bit of our own luck. That’s something I learned at the Royal Institute of Magic. And I happen to be an excellent mage.”

Lady Odette allowed the hints of a frown to form.

It vanished a moment later, hidden by a smile, and then a parchment fan.

“Is that so? … Then I wish you a good day, Mirabelle.”

Without another word, the clique of noblewomen turned and left, the clicking of their heels impossibly loud despite the gentle motion of their footsteps.

Mirabelle watched them leave, all the while admiring the handiwork on the back of their dresses. 

She liked the patterns. 

And hopefully, so would the cats at the shelter when she sewed them their new blankets.