...submitted for the request of the Grand Magic Council...legal ramifications towards the individual...damages including harm towards the local river and the local crazy man on site...ramblings about a fire breathing bird...

Austin groaned and dropped the paper onto the desk, rubbing the strain out of his eyes. Weeks after the Garden's final siege and Jonathan's death and mail was still being sent into the grandmaster's former office. Forms and letters sent in to a council that no longer existed, even more to a grandmaster position that remained empty.

He was sorting through it only on the assumption he would, seeing as there was no one else to do it. Ritchie was incompacitated with grief, Bri and Michael were still on their quests, and their second in commands were both busy running their own guilds.

He downed more gulps of cola and picked up the next letter bundle on top of the growing pile. Only three thick envelopes this time, from outside towns asking for guild assistance. Austin sighed, laying his head in his hands and trying not to tear his hair out. It wasn't his job to approve quests or send them to the requested guild, why couldn't they just be taken directly to the damn guilds-

Footsteps entered the office and he bit down a growing headache. "If you're looking for the grandmaster or someone in charge, they're not here."

"What a shame," a familiar voice answered and Austin's head snapped up. "I was looking for the very man I left in charge of this mess." Michael stepped into the alcove, looking around at the piles of papers in boxes everywhere. "A mess I see you're taking your time getting through."

"Every time I get done with it, more papers materialize." Despite the obvious exhaustion in both their voices, the two mages grinned and hugged one another. "Nice to see you, Michael."

"Likewise, my friend."

"How's the search going?"

Michael paused. "Slowly. I came back briefly to check up on things, mostly Ritchie's wellbeing."

"Judging by the grave robbing look on your face, I'm guessing he's not doing much better himself?"

"Not at all, unfortunately. Hopefully I scared his members enough into helping him a bit more though. Even if it's just a daily check in, I feel like it could make some progress while I'm out there looking for Brandon."

"If you need mages straightened out, you could always send them here. A day or two of reading legal mumbo jumbo should be enough to bore them to tears. Or I could just blast them into the ground."

Michael chuckled. "I'm sure it would be, but I have a feeling a couple of them are already dealing with someone putting them through much worse."

Austin raised an eyebrow. "Do I want to know?" he asked, only mildly interested if just mostly nosy.

"Another day," he waved off. "I actually came here hoping to see you. I have something to ask of you."

"You didn't just want to see my charming face as a pick me up?"

"The faces of those whom I've damned to eternity in the void are more of a 'pick me up' than your face, Silver." He held a straight smiling face through his even-toned insult and if Austin hadn't known him in the face of traumatic battle, he would've felt more hurt.

"So what is it you want?" Austin said, sitting back behind the desk. He glanced at the letter bundle still waiting and read Grimshade on the label around the string. Maybe he could convince Michael to take them with him.

"How has it been taking over Jonathan's old intended job?" Michael asked, his emphasis clear he didn't want to discuss the old grandmaster's other work while alive.

Austin shrugged and gestured around him. "I haven't taken over anything, but you can see how well it's going. Sorting everything is monotonous, but not unlike what I do for the Wandering Coins. Reading work proposals and requests is just sad when I can't do anything about them.

"I don't know why they keep being sent in. Doesn't everyone in Atlantide and other close cities know we don't have a grand guildmaster anymore? What do they expect me to do?"

"Mmm," Michael hummed. "What if you could do something about them?"

"What do you mean?"

"You've been doing about 65% of the job already for the past month or so. All you're really missing is the official title."

Austin laughed, waiting for him to say 'gotcha' because there was no way in this century that Michael would be seriously suggesting he be grandmaster. When it didn't come, Austin stared at him incredulously. "You're serious?"

Michael smiled and stood up to leave. "You already have Bren and Ritchie's approval. You just need Lo'Pho and the Wandering Coins leader's."

Austin stared down at the desk, a sad smile poking up. "I'm the Wandering Coins' leader."

"Exactly."

He straightened his robe with every ounce of ominous advice he gave off. "Good luck with Lo'Pho. And before you ask," he cut off when Austin opened his mouth. He reached over and plucked the letters from the desk. "I'll be more than gracious this time around and lighten your workload a bit by taking these to Bren myself."

With that, he voided out of the office, leaving a dumb-founded Austin behind.