"We are short on Mages for the harvest feast and, with Mika off for the night, the Southern gate needs somebody on watch, which will be you. I can't let Viorel do the shift alone. He's still a baby when it comes to ward spells. Especially with the number of people coming and going that night."
Aik blinked. He had stopped listening after "Mika off for the night".
"Come again?" Aik never worked the harvest feast.
Carla sighed and turned back to look at him, paper and quilt still in hand, fresh ink glistening. "You will be on watch at the feast. I have to prioritise the couples over the fucking for once."
Aik grumbled, distressed by the thought that he had to watch people laughing and dancing and getting drunk. "I'm a senior. I shouldn't-"
Carla looked at him sternly. "I know, and I am sorry. But so is Mika, and he took every single shift last year without complaining once. I am sorry you don't get to enjoy the feast this time, but I'll make sure to put another Mage on watch next time. Okay?"
She searched his eyes for more resistance and turned around when she couldn't find any. "If it makes you happy, I also have a shift at the main gate."
Aik huffed. "Yeah, but Eva will be likely with you, scaring away all the evil things simply by smiling at them like she considers which part to eat first."
Carla chuckled. "Very likely. I will bring the list to Dawid and write the formation on the board. Viorel will be happy to train with you."
Aik remembered the still pimple-ridden young man who had joined the guard Mages not long after the members had been decimated by age and a nasty storm. He knew his spells and had a competent Page, and Viorel was eager to learn.
"Yeah, okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes, Carla." There was no use in fighting her decisions. He really wouldn't dare, fearing a nightly visit from the Ouga who'd silently stare him into submission.
She hummed, pleased with her set up and rolled the piece of paper before slipping it into her scroll quiver.
"Good. I'll leave now and check the stash of material we'll need for the spells. See you later."
She left, and he sighed, returning to the notes he copied from their loaned book for another week before it went back to Îsila. His neck cracked when he tried to work out the kink he had acquired by reading and copying the minuscule notes. And it felt a bit like every crack of his bones was also a little crack in his heart. Love was ugly. That's why he had kept it at bay.
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