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Rated: 13+ · Sample · Fantasy · #1971014
A story that I've had in my mind for absolutely ever. Comments and crits are welcome.
 

    The spinning globe that sat in complacence on Charles’ desk swiveled lazily, a happy beam of sunlight streaming onto it in the quiet afternoon. The rest of the room lay in darkness. Thick drapes were drawn over the single large window in the office, letting out that one sliver of light.

         Charles preferred the darkness. “Dark for dark business,” he would chuckle to himself as he pored over the files of a current case he was working on. His secretary would always squint as she entered the room, nearly tripping on the piles of clutter that were strewn about the carpeted floor. He would mumble an apology and sip the tea she brought, entrapped in his business.

         Such was his predicament now as a harsh rapping sounded at his door. “Doesn’t that sign out there say ‘Out on Business’?” he called empathetically as he took a gulp of tea. The door creaked and groaned, then was shoved inward and taken completely off its hinges by a pair of large, hairy hands.

         “My sincerest apologies,” said the gruff voice of an enormous man, his head nearly reaching the ceiling. He made a poor attempt to reset the portal which ended in its placement out in the hall. He turned toward Charles, his face flushed.

         After an awkward silence, Charles acknowledged his presence. “Nice to see you,” he stated simply, taking a dainty sip of tea while pretending to read the Sunday paper. The man answered with a sarcastic snort.

         “Damn, it’s dark in here. You should really learn to let in some light, lest yer eyes go bad.” Before Charles could begin a futile attempt to stop him from his improvements the room was filled with the light of a midday sun and the image of a busy street appeared in the window. “Ahh, that’s much better!” The man exclaimed, arms akimbo. He made a sudden turn to glare at Charles, a snarl forming on his lips. Charles flinched and raised his hands in surrender.

         “Every time I’ve called on you, you’ve never answered! I’ve left messages, sent footmen! Really, Charles! The gall of you to make me wait for an appointment this long!” The man flung himself down on a sofa, seemingly exhausted from his outburst. “Are you thinking of running away again?” He arched a thick eyebrow at the young man.

         Charles stood in silence, then took a seat at his desk once more. He ran a hand through his blonde head of hair before answering. “I really don’t see how that’s any of your business, Wade.”

         Wade snorted. “Well, I think I’ve a right to know, since you’ve completely blocked me out these past few months. I honestly just wanted to check up on you, but if you insist on being this antisocial…” he lounged back on the plush seat, resting his head in his hand. Charles sighed.

         “It’s nothing. Really. I’ve just been busy with cases recently, is all.”

         “That is a lie, and you know it. Everything’s been peaceful around these parts because of your efforts. And magic, no doubt.” His voice left a trail of discontent.

         “You can’t blame me for that last incident, Wade. I knew taking up this job would be a risky business.” He gave Wade a somber look, memories floating in and out of his vision.

         The man returned his look for a few moments before sitting up properly, gazing out of the busy window. “That’s all forgiven. The people know what you are now, as they should. A wizard private eye, heh. I’ve never heard of such a thing until you turned up.” He stood, brushing off his shirtsleeves. Charles watched him, unmoving, as if he’d turned to stone.

         “I don’t know. I think it’s been rewarding, in its own way. I’ve learned a lot, working here. I’m actually mildly pleased with it.” He sat back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. “I’ve picked up some new skills. Being able to tell a human’s next move before they actually do it, deciphering their motives… magic has its uses.” 

         “Other than toy-making?” Wade chuckled, sitting in the chair opposite Charles’ immense wooden desk. Noticing that it was covered in clutter, he remarked, “You should really clean up the place, Charles. Especially if you do plan on leaving. Leaves less of a mess for the maid to clean up, and all that.”

         Charles winked in return. “The maid can come over and clean all she likes,” he replied. Wade snorted in mild amusement. Charles spun in his chair, stirring up a cloud of dust. “I don’t plan on leaving permanently, ever, to be honest. But…” he slowed his movement, contemplating his next statement.

         “You want to settle down? Find a woman? I know plenty of women who would court you, Charles, even you yourself know that. It’s fun to play around while you’re young, as you probably always will be, but, you know…” Charles waved his accusations away with a gloved hand.

         “That’s not what I was going to say. The matter at hand is, I’ve been picking up on some rumors. Whispers. Tremors in the ground beneath our feet.” His eyes took on a faraway look and something fey took hold of his features, and his green eyes glinted in the yellow sunlight. “There is something at work, something that we have absolutely no concept of as of yet.”

         Wade had scooted back a few inches in his plush chair. “You look ominous, Charles,” he commented politely.          

         The light went out of his expression, and he chuckled. “It’s simply… I can’t explain it. But there’s someone I need to find. I’ve seen them in my dreams, as of late. I think I shall call on Morgan.” He stood, nabbing his hat from a coat rack behind his chair. As he was just donning it, there was a knock on the wall outside of the room. The two men turned to greet the sound.

         “Uhm, mister Scott…” the timid voice of a young woman dressed in casually fine attire addressed them. Wade stood at the presence of a lady and gave her a short bow.

         “Good day, madam. To what may we accredit your visit?” A look of recognition passed over his features as he inquired this of her.

         “It happens to be the Preator on the line, sir. They want to speak with you of an incident that happened last night at their Silver Moon’s ball.” Wade groaned in anticipation.

         “Damn those kids. I can’t take them anywhere. They’ve probably gone and killed an elk on the premises.” Wade grouchily put his arms through his coat and turned to Charles, who was giving him an amused grin. “I’ll call on you later, Charles. Let me know what you find out, alright?” He pointed an accusing finger at the young man, who crossed his heart in mock terror.

         “I’ll make sure to tell you first, Wade.” Wade nodded with authority and, after hesitating at the doorway, made his way out, nodding again at the young lady who gave Charles a flirtatious giggle before leaving.

         After a moment of silence, Charles sighed. His face took on a look of determination. “Morgan,” he whispered, his mind feeling across the cosmos of this world, seeking a green hovel miles and miles away. “I need your help. I will come find you, wherever you are after all these years.”

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