The magician instantly painted the face of a professional poker player.

- What are you talking about?

- You're definitely on guard, master.

He snorted in annoyance.

- I just don't know what to expect from you. Believe me, if you now asked me for alchemical matches with the same thoughtful expression on your face, I would generally begin to be afraid.

Why didn't you tell me all this before?

- What for? You were before my eyes.

Logically.

We were silent.

- Well, well, - with a sigh, Master Olsin finally said and put on narrow stylish glasses, - then I have two more options for you. Look. Or Golden Harbor, there is required a full-time magician in the direction of the information school. These are contracts, assurances of certificates, and so on, or Dai-Pivka.

I stared at him in amazement.

- Sorry?..

- Nice name for the city, right? he smiled.

- Is this a city? Seriously?

- Yes, a small one, on the coast, thirty days' journey from here.

- Wow!

Thirty days is generally the other end of the kingdom. When I told Leonard about the wilderness, somehow I didn’t quite mean it. Interestingly, if I say the word “harbor” itself, will we return to the previous conversation about elves?

- Well, so how? Laboratory?

- And what's in this Dai-Pivka? I asked.

- In Dai-Pivka - the name does not decline.

- However?

- We need a person there to help the new burgomaster.

There was, there was some catch behind these words.

- What do you mean - new? I asked suspiciously.

- An old one in the mines, - an exhaustive answer, - they need two in one: a magician and an administrator, they have neither one nor the other, and they can only afford one.

- I see... - I drawled. - Papers to certify with artifact seals and contracts to fasten?

- Something like that.

On the one hand, the backyards of that former Empire that ceased to exist almost a thousand years ago. On the other hand, no control and no sugary boys. And in the worst case - in six months I can return under the pretext of "I can't cope." In addition, the curator looked so mockingly that my tongue, regardless of my will, said:

- Agree.

- For what? - Maitre Olsin pretended not to understand.

- Give me a beer, - I smiled, just to look at his face.

2. Flame on Copper Street

The curator's face remained impenetrable.

- May I ask why?

- I need a good sabbatical away from the capital.

Long, gnarled fingers began drumming on the table top.

- Well, in principle, you can live there, of course. The magician will be given an estate, just right with a beach, but don't expect an easy walk. The task is to help develop the city in terms of magic. Funds have been allocated for this, fifty thousand gold soldens. With a return, of course, but the loan is interest-free. Hire an earth magician to increase productivity, organize an alchemical pharmacy, because it most likely is not there. Accordingly, they must be returned within three to four years, plus ten percent of their earnings must be transferred to the guild fund.

Well, that's quite reasonable. I knew the rules, so I just nodded.

- How many semesters did you have management theory?

- Three.

- I have to manage. There, consider, a large village, not a city ...

The curator gave a short lecture on "The Role of Magic in the Life of the Dais Kingdom" in a condensed form. Is there anyone to talk to him today?

When I got to my father's library as a child, the first adventure novels stolen from there were about a magician: Elias the Gray. I read, hiding in the far corner of the attic, where no one was supposed to look for me. And that's when I wanted to become a magician. Elias threw fireballs, killed monsters and saved beauties. And it seemed to me that such is the life of a sorcerer.

Reality is disappointing. We turned out to be not only a military, but also a social and economic service of the kingdom. Magicians paved roads, put up lanterns, corrected the weather, increased crop yields, healed, certified contracts and oaths, verified the authenticity of documents, monitored the magical background, established magical communication through mirrors, and supported teleports to pedestrians. Well, and occasionally they chased monsters crawling out of bad spots. A little. Most of the duties were fairly routine.

- Here is the form for the diploma, letters of recommendation to the burgomaster, documents for the estate. And, of course, bills. The nearest branch of the Dwarven Bank is three days from Dai-Pivk, in the town of Edelweiss. Of course, there is a teleport there, but it is weak, it won’t even let a rider through, not to mention a carriage or wagon. That is, you have to go the usual way. You will cash out as needed. Didn't change your mind?

This was said in the tone of such a kind uncle that I simply could not refuse my words. Out of harm? Probably. Did I understand then what I was getting into? Definitely - no.

“The future you is now looking at you through your memories,” an inner voice dissatisfied with the forthcoming reference said gloomily, “and wonders - what kind of ghoul are we doing this now ?!”

Time has shown that he was not mistaken.

And then, in the curator's office, for the first time, for no reason, goosebumps ran down my back. Some kind of irregularity of what was happening was felt almost physically. It was as if the whole room tilted, almost imperceptibly, for a moment. It was as if something elusive flashed in the corner of the eye, or a barely audible sound touched the ear, which should not have been there. And a moment of anxiety. Something is wrong. The mind began to feverishly analyze everything that I see or hear, the magical background, emotions, but did not find any source of this anxiety. And it was even worse. You feel something similar when, halfway to the house, you can’t remember - did you turn off the burner in the academic laboratory? Or is there already a little fire starting?

A moment, and the feeling subsided without a trace, and it dawned on me that the curator was waiting for some kind of answer.

- Everything suits me.