Food Flight
If you’ve ever worked for a corporate institution like the one I work at as a Mid-Level Mage, the Grand Celestio Council of Wizards to be precise, you know that occasionally our higher ups will decide to surprise their employees with some sort of trivial philanthropic offering to satiate us in the short term. Typically this offering consists of food, and though we see the reward for what it is, the offering typically works to boost moral. As cynical as I tend to be, I’m extremely willing to put that aside in exchange for free food, and thus the events of yesterday vexed me all the more.
When I arrived at the demi-plane that serves as our place of work yesterday, I could tell by the looks on my coworkers’ faces that there was something being set up in the communal eating area. This put a bit of a spring in my step as I sat down at my desk and began the day’s work. It is much easier to be enthusiastic about the asinine requests of ridiculous clients when you know that shortly you will be presented with a delicious feast.
The disaster began about half an hour after I sat down and began working. Across the space I could faintly hear one of my colleagues having a strained conversation with a client. I couldn’t make out the specifics but the intonation was familiar. My colleague was quietly and calmly explaining what our client needed to do in order to access the magic they had ordered. The mage spoke clearly and slowly, and wore a pained expression on their face as the client was just not getting it. My coworker repeated their instructions enough that eventually I was able to get the gist of what was going on. The client had ordered a magic spell that made things lighter so they could more easily move things, and in order for the magic to activate they had to utter a specific phrase. The client would say something like the phrase, nothing would happen, they’d start yelling at my coworker, and my coworker would repeat the phrase the client needed to use. Over and over and over. I don’t blame this mage for snapping, but I do blame them for the delay to my lunch.
Two things happened at the same time which led to a third. I will describe them in the order I enjoyed them most.
First: one of our supervisors, using a levitation spell, brought out several giant trays filled with incredible smelling foods.
Second: my coworker, tired of being berated by the client on the line, yelled out the magic word that makes things lighter, just as the food passed in front of him.
Third: a previously unknown glitch between the levitation and lightening spells shot the floating food into the air and sent it flying throughout the demi-plane. Hot bread flew over our heads, meats, cheeses, and sauces splattered across walls as far as the eyes could see, soup fell in droplets onto unlucky wizards and chocolate did the same onto lucky wizards.
After nearly an hour trying to undo the glitch, with many angry looks being thrown the guilty mage’s way the whole time, we were given permission to cast flying magic on ourselves to chase after and eat the wayward foods mid-air, as long as it didn’t interfere with our productivity too much. All in all, it wasn’t the worst act of appreciation I’ve experienced at the Council, but it was definitely the weirdest.
May the moon shine favorably and without hesitation upon you,
Alexan Drytus
