Caled walked over to the desk, his boots tapping softly on the floor as he approached the towering stack of papers. The pile was enormous, full of requests that needed attention. His fingers ran over the edges of the papers, picking up the top one.
A student was requesting help to find a missing nail clipper. Caled stared at the paper for a moment, his brow furrowing. The idea of dedicating any effort to something like this felt absurd.
"This isn't even an emergency," he muttered. "This is just... something else."
Aifi leaned against the desk, her gaze flicking over the papers. She didn't seem particularly concerned by the triviality of the request.
"Feel free to check through them and pick the ones worth your time," she said with a casual shrug. "You're not stuck with every single one."
Caled flipped through the stack, the papers blurring together for a moment. They were all filled with small, minor issues. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to this, though.
"I'm asking again, why me?" he said, his voice calm, but curiosity lingering.
"Because you're the only one capable of handling this," Aifi replied. "On the surface, it looks like a bunch of trivial tasks, but these are academies full of students who can level mountains with a single spell. They may act like it's all just paperwork and minor issues, but trust me, it's more than that."
Caled narrowed his eyes as he thought about the students she was referring to. This wasn't just about solving small problems—it was about managing real power.
"Others would get destroyed by them," Caled said, his voice quiet now, the weight of the situation settling in. "You need someone who can not only help them but also correct them when they're wrong."
Aifi nodded slowly, her expression now serious.
"Exactly. Some of them definitely need correction. That's why you're the right person. You've got the experience, the strength, and... the right kind of presence. Plus, no one knows who you really are. You're the perfect candidate."
The weight of her words hit him. His identity as the Legendary Hero was a secret to most, buried beneath layers of time and the mask he'd worn back then. Only a few knew his real name and face, and most of them weren't around anymore. Except for Aifi.
Aifi smiled softly, sensing his thoughts. She didn't need him to speak—she already understood.
"I fought in the war with a mask on," Caled said quietly. "Very few knew who I really was."
Aifi nodded.
"And that's why you're perfect for this. You're not just some figurehead. You're a ghost. A name that no one remembers and a face no one knows. You're invisible when it matters."
Caled nodded slowly. He wasn't sure what he was getting himself into, but the offer felt right. He hadn't been involved in anything like this for so long. Maybe it was time to step back into the world, even if only for a little while.
"I accept the job," Caled said, his voice steady.
Aifi's eyes lit up, a small, genuine smile spreading across her face. She clapped her hands lightly.
"I knew you'd come around."
Caled shifted in his chair.
"I'll start with the requests tomorrow. It's going to be a long day."
Aifi smirked, leaning in slightly. "Before that, though, you're going to need new clothes."
Caled glanced down at his attire, frowning slightly. To him, it was perfectly fine. It was practical, worn-in, and exactly what he needed for a life built on action. High-ranking adventurer gear. That's what he thought of it as.
"What's wrong with my clothes?" he asked, feeling a little defensive.
Aifi's gaze was amused, her lips curling slightly as she looked him over.
"That set of clothing was good... 100 years ago. But now? You'd look like a young man wearing his grandpa's clothes."
Caled furrowed his brow. "What?"
Aifi stepped closer, her smile widening.
"Fashion changes, Caled. Trust me, no one will take you seriously in those old things. You need something more modern. You can't walk into the academies looking like you just stepped out of a history book."
He stared at her for a moment, clearly trying to process the situation. Clothes weren't something he'd thought about in decades. But now, with everything shifting around him, maybe she was right. He had no choice but to play along.
"Guess I'll need to make a trip to the market," Caled muttered, more to himself than to Aifi.
Aifi chuckled softly, clearly entertained by his reaction.
"Don't worry. I'll help you pick something out. You'll look great... for the first time in centuries."
Caled sighed, feeling the weight of the new responsibilities already pressing down on him. He wasn't sure he was ready for all this, but there was no turning back now.
"Alright," he said with a resigned shake of his head. "But this better not take long."
Aifi grinned. "It won't. Trust me, you'll be looking brand new in no time."
•••••
Caled followed Aifi through the busy marketplace, his steps steady as they weaved through the crowd. The capital was alive with activity, the afternoon sun casting a warm glow over the cobblestone streets.
Aifi led him towards one of the most expensive boutiques in the area, the kind of place where the price tags probably had more zeroes than he cared to count.
Inside, the store was quiet, the air scented with a mix of expensive perfumes and freshly polished wood. Aifi wasted no time picking out clothes for him, her eyes scanning the racks with practiced ease.
She tossed a few outfits at him, each one more elegant than the last, and Caled found himself reluctantly walking toward the fitting rooms.
When he stepped out in the first outfit—a fancy tunic set, complete with a tailored blazer and perfectly pressed slacks—he hardly recognized himself.
The clothes were sharp, sophisticated, and looked nothing like the old adventurer's gear he was used to. He brushed his hair up, hoping to complete the look, but his transformation felt odd.
He turned to Aifi, raising an eyebrow.
"So, what do you think?"
The clerk, who had been quietly folding clothes behind the counter, paused and looked up at him. Her eyes widened in admiration. She clapped her hands together, unable to hide her surprise.
Aifi nodded, a small, approving smile forming on her lips.
"Now, you look like a proper professor."
Caled glanced at himself in the mirror. The change was stark. The man in the reflection was still him, but somehow, he looked... more refined. He smiled, surprised by how different he looked. For a moment, he almost forgot who he used to be.
Aifi shifted her weight, her smile becoming a little more serious.
"You can start your job tomorrow. Just be careful when dealing with the girls. Some of them—no, most of them—are dangerous."
Caled raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharpening.
"What do you mean, dangerous? Would they attack me or stab me in the back when I let my guard down?"
Aifi smirked, clearly enjoying the confusion she was stirring up.
"No. A different kind of dangerous. Let's just say... it's what happens when you put a bunch of fierce and bold girls in one place. They have their own ways of... handling things."
The clerk, who had been listening intently, seemed to catch on to what Aifi meant. Her cheeks flushed pink, and she nodded in agreement, her eyes darting between Aifi and Caled.
Caled tilted his head, still puzzled.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Aifi walked toward the counter, ready to pay for the clothes, but her smile lingered. She glanced back at Caled as he stood by the fitting room, still processing her words.
Caled stood there for a moment longer, waiting for an explanation, but Aifi had already turned her attention to the clerk, clearly done with the conversation.
He let out a small sigh, still confused, but decided not to press her further. He'd figure it out soon enough, he supposed.