Casual Heroing

“Luciani, come with me. We need to get you somewhere to sleep. Come on, chop-chop, little human,” Clodia has the impressive ability of marching, shouting, taking my arm and starting to push me out of the lab while making it seem completely normal.

“I have a friend who manages a house complex close-by,” Clodia says with a serious face, “I’m not sure I want to know what you are doing here, honestly. But if you passed the interview, you are not a problem, right?”

“Nope. I—my current predicament is plenty weird, but unless someone touches this,” I point at the spellbook, “I shouldn’t pose any danger. I mean, unless you have bad ingredients and someone gets diarr—”

Clodia slaps the back of my neck so fast I almost fall forward.

“My ingredients are the best!” she says to the ear of mine she’s now twisting.

“And listen, Luciani, I like helping people, but if you cause one problem for my girls, I will have you hanging by the balls and I will personally put a few arrows through your eyes while you play the swinging target. Tell me that I’ve been clear enough, now,” Clodia is kind of hurting my ear, to be honest.

But before I can say anything or complain, the words come out of my mouth almost against my will.

“I have no intention of harming anyone, even though I wouldn’t refuse sleeping with a cute co-worker.”

My eyes go wide and Clodia releases me.

“Well, you are a male and that’s to be expected. Happy that we can go on with our business without a problem.”

My mind is still reeling. What did just happen?

“It’s a skill, Joey. [Make It a Safe Workplace], it helps me filter people and make sure no one messes around in my lab. I can coerce bad intentions out of employees, spot trouble arising, and even spot trouble in your personal life,” Clodia provides the answer to the question I haven’t asked yet. “And you don’t reek of trouble at all. No, my skill is so freakishly calm around you that I don’t even understand what’s going on. Don’t you know anyone in this world? Don’t you have one

Huh, interesting.

The skill didn’t pick up anything from me because I don’t have anyone around here that I messed up with. I must look like a saint through the skill.

“Just relocated and I didn’t—don’t have much left to my life. I’m starting with a clean slate and I don’t intend to trouble you, Clodia,” I do feel the need to add, “I do regret, though, that I don’t have much of a chance with you.”

She frowns, more confused than angry.

“I just threatened you, roughed you up a little and you are thinking about me?”

“Men are pigs,” I say with the cheeriest smile.

“Men are pigs,” she slaps my shoulder and leads the way towards my new home.

…

An Elf with silver hair is looking down at me.

Are all Elves this freakishly tall? I don’t understand. Does this mean I can’t play the ‘I’m so freaking tall card with women? Man, don’t I start with a huge handicap, then?

“You brought a human, Clodia?” the silver haired Elf narrows her eyes.

“Shut it, old hag. I can guarantee for the human, he’s working for me,” Clodia shoots back, unfazed.

“And why do I care, pray tell,” the older Elf crosses her arms and stares right through my current new boss.

“I can bring back some sweets?” I volunteer an answer that earns me two hard stares. “And my name is Joey. Joey Luciani. How you doin’?”

The silver-haired Elf stares back and forth from me to Clodia.

After a good half a minute of awkward silence, she nods and fishes out a couple of keys from a pocket of her long robe.

“This is for the gate at the entrance. This one is for your room. You pay every week, but don’t worry about that. Clodia is going to take that from your pay and volunteer two months of rent in advance.”

My boss doesn’t look thrilled about that.

“There is a little stove with a heating rune. The cupboard has a preservation rune. You ruin any of those two runes and you pay a fine to have an [Enchanter] inscribe them again. The bathroom is shared and if you receive any messages or letters, the guard at the entrance will take them for you.”

I’m nodding throughout the whole thing, even though I have no idea how to use a heating rune or whatever is inside my freshly-rented apartment.

“Questions?” the woman asks.

“I didn’t get your name,” I smile brightly.

“That’s because I didn’t tell you,” the woman promptly leaves me and Clodia hanging in front of what’s my new accommodation.

“She’s like that, don’t worry,” Clodia breathes out, almost deflating. It was a bit stressing talking to the older woman. But now, an interesting question takes over my mind.

“How old do Elves get?” I ask, curious.

“What do you mean?” Clodia frowns.

“Don’t Elves live longer than humans?”

“What? Apart from the fact that humans are tasteless creatures who cannot refrain from killing each other at every twist and turn, we pretty much live for the same amount of time. Sixty is probably a lucky age to get to, on average. There are older bags, people with high enough levels that even their lifespans, if affected. Then, on the other end, adventurers probably die around thirty. I am twenty-six and—”

“YOU ARE WHAT?” I almost faint hearing that.

“Twenty-six, and as I was saying—”

“Twenty-six?! But I’m twenty-three and you look much—” I bit my tongue and immediately cursed my damn mouth.

“I look much what? Do finish the sentence, Luciani,” Clodia narrows her eyes so much they are now arrow-slits.

“You look like the most stunning woman who ever walked the Elven lands.”

Clodia cracks a fist – a very un-elven move, if you ask me.

But talking un-elven things, while I ignore my boss threatening to kill me right here and now, I’m surprised Elves don’t live more than humans.

What a weird world.