The conference room was cold this early in the morning. It hasn't been warmed up from moving bodies, breaths of air, and bustling conversations yet. Old wooden chairs sat in formation around a large mahogany table in the centre of the room and tapestries, depicting the history of magic from the dawn of time, draped from the tip of the grand ceiling and the base of the floorboards.

Director Malec decided that the conference table should be round to take inspiration from the old tale of King Arther and the significance of the values the story promotes. Unfortunately, a round table with enough space for the desired number of seats was not only unavailable but also impractical as no man would be able to reach the center of the table to pass notes but the thing wouldn't be able to fit in the room with enough space to move around the outside of it.
Thus, the mganificant, sturdy, mahogany table was oval.

Director Malec was there now; sitting at the furthest head of the slightly round table. My father walked slightly ahead of me, but it was myself that suffered under Malecs' stare.
Both me and my dad stopped side by side, about 5 feet away from where the Director was sat and waited for him to say the first words to acknowledge us in his hall.

"Why?" He mused, resting his head on the tops of his fingers,"Why did I send out a Knight on a mission alone? You'd think I would have learned from previous outcomes," he glared at my dad, who seemed seemed to find a chair rather interesting, "but no. I held out hope you inherited your mother's brains," he spoke as he rose from his seat, standing at his towering height, "unfortunately your fathers' genes are all shades of stubborn."

"That came in handy at a few times, though, didn't it?" Dad spoke proudly.

"Handy, when deemed necessary, not when you can can't say no to a dare or ignore a taunt while on the clock."

I was aware of my father's trouble-making streak when he first joined the agency, but I didn't consider how Malec would be the one to constantly be dealing with all problems my father caused, as he is the only Director the Agency ever had.

"And look where that's gotten you," Malec jabbed in my direction, "a complete clone. Poor boy."

That's when Director Malec walked over and stood directly in front of me. He appeared to be examining the extent of my visible injuries. "These aren't just impact wounds," he whispered, "this is a cut. Did you go against someone armed while being unarmed yourself."

Now he looked pissed. Those hauntingly brown eyes bore into my mind, demanding I tell the truth because God knows what would happen to me if I didn't. "She wasn't armed when I followed her."

"So?!" He boomed at me, hands now placed on his hips, "wouldn't you expect a five foot woman to equire some form of object when she noticed a six foot man was following her?"

...OK he did have a point there, but I've learned from experience that you let the Director grill you out like Texas in July before daring to interrupt him, regardless about how right you are or how you feel.

"You," he seethed, pointing a finger to my chest, "disobeyed director orders about not engaging with the target, and now she probably knows we are onto her and will most likely go into hiding."

Dad stayed back. He knew the severity of my actions and the consequences they result in, but he didn't try to defend me or excuse my actions.

There is a concept int the Agency called 'Act alone, stand alone'. This is the expectation that if you act out you are the one responsible - meaning you reap the sole reward or punishment. It also prevents people being pulled into others mess when they had nothing to do with it.

When the agency first started, many sorcerers took jobs at the Block to appear strong and to make a lot of money, but this resulted in a lot of passionate agents, who genuinely wanted to help, getting fired because they were part of a team that messed up (even catastrophically).
It also ensured that Agents could act however they deemed best on a mission, regardless if their team felt the same way. This has saved many lives as corrupt leaders were common in the agencys' begining and chose not to save others if it risked themselves. They would then report back and say ' look how many people were saved' when it was only one man doing the saving who, subsequently, faced penalties for ignoring commands.

'Act alone, stand alone' promotes faith in each individuals beliefes and ensured only those who took part were the ones counted, thus stopping both rewards and consequences being handed out haphazardly.

That value is biting me in the ass as I disobeyed orders, blew my cover, reveled some of my hand, got injured, and let the target know we are onto her without gaining any evidence myself with noone to palm the blame off to even slightly.

"You will not be placed on another mission for a whole week." Malec stated. What?! No missions what's so ever? Not even petty Normie crime?! That's £500 I could have made gone!
"Instead, you can help with the filing," he grinned, delight showing from his every orifice, "starting with yesterday's report."

"Yes, Sir." Is all I could say. I got off relativity lightly as most would have been given two weeks off, but I guess he deemed my injuries punishment enough.

I turned to make my way out of the room whilst my father stayed, ready for the morning briefing as one of the commanders.

"And Damian," Malec called after me as I reached for the door handle, "don't forget you have boxing training this morning. You know how much Gareth despises slackers." Honestly, he looked happier than when he got married, telling me that.

"Yes, Sir." I replied and left for my training with Director Malecs' giggles following me the whole way there.