Amelia appeared vigorously on the doorstep of the Omill Temples Truth Station, clutching the documents she had previously retrieved. It wasn't the first time she'd brought dispatches here. 

But these appointment papers...

What position would she be appointed to here? What would she do? Courier again? Translate? Dealing with conflict situations? Search for missing people and property? Escort valuable packages?

Because of her limited knowledge of the language, she couldn't work with the people here. Much to her relief. But as for the other things, she was good enough at her previous job... 

Well. There's only one way to find out. And soon everything would be clear.

She walked confidently towards the Secretary's cabin, because it was a habit from previous visits... And suddenly, before she even realised what was happening, her body bounced a decent distance away from... something. Something dangerous.

It was good timing, though.

For a field of barely bearable heat passed by the dazed service woman. Mentally thanking her good reflexes, she looked in surprise at the source of the danger, next to which, without any apparent discomfort, Truth Station Chief Milo walked hurriedly with a concerned look on his face, obviously trying to explain something.

And surprisingly, her potential killer wasn't some kind of fierce-looking villain who had taken over the Truth Station, but a graceful, slender, short figure in the uniform of the Temple Witches.

What a fascinating beginning...

- It's not just our reputation that's been damaged, it's my people who have suffered, don't forget that! - an angry retort filled the air and ears.

How could anyone possibly forget something that had been presented in such a murderously extraordinary way?

The refined witch, the source of the searing aura, raised his long, pale forefinger in a sharp warning and gave the interlocutor a piercing look with his frighteningly bright blue eyes.

- My people are making every effort to reveal it. And you know it. 

- Milo tried to put maximum conviction into his words.

Not the best light to pester the boss with your petty affairs. It's not the best light to be here myself... when your instincts are screaming "Run! Hide! Run, run, run..."

“We can't run, we're here on business”.

“Then... hide? Maybe hide? Or freeze. Freeze, don't move... Oh no, get back!" 

Amelia wasn't a coward. She had been in many dangerous situations during her service. But there's always something frightening about dealing with raging witches. No matter how much training you've had in your home department and how many techniques you've learnt. 

It was good practice, but it was not about "coming from behind", "sneaking up", "stunning", but "retreating quietly" and "hiding quickly". 

Nature’s forces stay striking nature’s forces. And Milo is definitely in a bad place right now.

Reflexively, the service woman took up a more or less safe position in the improvised shelter near the exit and cast an appraising glance at the ominous witch.

She... knew him. His name was... his name was Finnian. Right. He's a Head Witch of the Omill Temples Witchery. 

Ami had seen him a few times, delivering documents to the Chief of the Omill Temples and picking up what needed to be delivered to their Office of Order and the Kantine Temples in general. 

And... a creature of such cold, inhuman beauty that emanated a powerful sense of power, such a combination was almost impossible to forget, she had to say. It leaves a kind of icy scar on the soul, as if from a collision with something incomprehensible and unattainable. And his image was somehow toxic and irreversibly embedded in the memory. Only the proverbial amnesia could help with that.

As the dangerous couple moved past the frozen "don't mind my presence" Kantinian militia woman towards the exit, without even noticing her, she was less and less inclined to the "run and hide" plan of action.

Just in case, she made one more cautious step aside, unconsciously sighing with relief. And found herself involuntarily pulling her head into her shoulders...  

...and noticed the edge of the fabric of her documents began to smoulder!

Slightly shocked by the new unexpected extreme situation, the service woman quickly looked around for a remedy to the sudden affliction. A dark-haired man in a Truth officer uniform was holding a cup of greenish liquid. 

Amelia quickly dipped ready to flame edges of her document into his cloth saving coffee.

The Omillian raised his surprised gaze to her with a puzzled look of silent disapproval.

- I'm sorry! - Ami quickly gave him her most guilty look. - The naughty witch set fire to my service cloths!

She quickly showed her interlocutor the burnt documents to justify her actions, noting with annoyance the greenish liquid dripping from them. 

The only good thing about the situation was that she remembered the foreign language so quickly that she didn't realise it. 

Out of the corner of her eye she saw someone fixing a problem with the entrance curtain. It was an impenetrable, fireproof, specially reinforced curtain made of special materials. 

What in the ghoul’s life is going on here?!

- Why not cool them down, but extinguish them in such a spectacular way? - Fortunately, the officer wasn't angry with her, just curious.

But he already knew the answer. The accent and the telltale pauses, searching for the right word, gave it away immediately.

- I didn't see a quicker alternative... I'm really sorry. Can I at least wash your cup?

- It's all right. - he said nonchalantly, sipping at his drink as if nothing had happened. - Mmm. Smoky... Don't worry. By the way, You could have asked me to extinguish the document.

- I'm subconsciously sure that if I can't do something, no one can. And I’m extremely rarely surrounded by extinguishing witches…

Ami felt colour creep into her face. Yes, this was definitely not the best way to make a first impression when meeting someone you might be working with. 

But... this wasn't the first impression. She had met him before too. 

Funny thing. She knew a lot of people here, but no one in particular.

- And I think I've seen you here a few times before. - The new acquaintance blinked peacefully. - I'm Davin. Or just Dave. I work here. 

- Ami. You'll see more of me lately. Maybe. Watch your feet and coffee. Clumsiness and awkwardness are my best friends. And there's a chance that the three of us will be working here soon...

- I see.

- Look... - Amelia really wanted to change the subject. - Do... Do you get this sort of thing here often?

- Visits from Finnian? - The officer smiled. - Fortunately not... But at least it's not boring.

- That's a mild way of putting it... - Amelia frowned in displeasure. - I was lucky to have your cup nearby.

- Feel free to call on me and my cup for help. Finnian's visits are a serious test for all the Station's furniture. And sometimes people. But... he's a good man.

Dave gave a friendly wink and waddled up to the second floor.

The servicewoman saw him off and exhaled in relief again. Such a nice guy. If everyone here was like that, it would be a lot easier to work.

If she were unlucky enough to find herself in a similar situation in Kantene, she could expect a coffee shower, insults and lectures about her low intelligence level. People here are less picky and more easily offended. The abundance of passive aggression in relationships tells them that they were definitely meant to be insulted.

Yes, it's not easy to be clumsy and stupid, but it seems easier to be stupid anywhere away from home. Poor locals would have to...

“Focus.”

Damn right. We have a job to do.

With a determined exhale, Amelia shook the liquid from her wet papers and made her way back to the Secretary's cabin. Without any deadly obstacles.

Anyway, this place isn’t boring indeed.

- It's a bit noisy... And hot. - she began, trying to put the damaged documents on the small shelf behind the Secretary's window as nonchalantly as possible.

- Yes. A bit fussy, I'd say. - The Secretary accepted the clothes with the same expression.

It seems she's seen more weird things during her time here. 

What other oddities could she have encountered in her professional life? It's frightening to even think about.

Fighting back a silly giggle, Amelia looked away.

- Spiced with the smell of coffee and biscuits. - The Kantinian smiled and made eye contact again.

She managed to say something positive. 

It's a standard for the locals and she'll have to learn this skill if she wants to stay here and not stand out too much by neglecting the rules of good manners according to her bad traditions.

In Ami's case, it's practically impossible. But at least let her try.

- Yes. Sometimes we don't even know if this is a café or the Truth Department. - agreed the service lady on the other side of the window. - I think it's time we stopped fooling ourselves and other people.

- I'm Amelia. From the Kantine Temple Department of Order. You may know me as a courier. But now I have been sent on an exchange programme.

- Ah! I remember you. - The truthful secretary nodded happily. - We haven't had a chance to get acquainted because of your habit of mumbling something, almost literally throwing the clothes into the archive and hurrying away. I'm Lucille. Or just Lucy. 

- My social skills are brilliant. - Ami smiled sheepishly. - Glad we finally talked. 

“And you’re a nice one.”

- So. You plan to work here? - Lucy leafed through the documents businesslike. - Then... soon you'll have a great opportunity to mumble from the other side of the window. And less talkativeness is better, if you like. The fewer people in the way of your work, the better.

- Am I interrupting your work? - Amelia was embarrassed again. - Oh, I'm sorry... Or... I... What?! I don't want to believe... Please don't tell me you mean... I have to work... in this window?!

The Kantinian raised her eyebrows in disbelief. 

The Omillian chuckled slightly.

- What's wrong with a window? It's a decent place for a Secretary. That's why you came here, isn't it? According to these assignment documents.

“...I never read… Because I’m here to escape the Fertility Festival… Oh my gnats… from under the scorching suns into the fire... Literally."

- Swamp and dead… Wait a moment… Let me process it… a Secretary!..

 - Exactly. - Lucille confirmed, still not understanding the reason for the confusion. - And... aren't you... a Secretary?