Alexander's apartment would make any drill sergeant content. The books were free of dust and organized by author, power cables zip tied and labelled behind his electronics, a bit cozy but adequate for one person. Roommates, in his opinion, were only good for making unnecessary noise, messes, and headaches. To Alexander, cleaning up a mess he had made felt productive and necessary. Picking up after roommates—dishes that could have just as easily been rinsed and tossed in a dishwasher—felt similar to brushing his teeth before drinking orange juice. Just plain wrong.

  Roommates were also accompanied by undesirable noises that kept him awake. Unlike some people, he had a job, and it required him to be up at five in the morning. All his previous roommates did not seem to respect that. They frequently had guests over for video game tournaments that lasted well past midnight, board game nights, parties and get-togethers… once again, not desirable. He did not often feel the need to entertain guests. In fact, he would go out of his way to avoid doing so—therefore, minimal was the name of the game.

  Alexander took pride in his job in human resources for an online retail company, Congo*. Today just so happened to be his thirtieth birthday. He did not really expect anyone would celebrate it, which was just fine by him, he preferred it even. The only thing out of the ordinary that was likely to happen on this day was the glowing blue screen that he found floating in front of his face as he woke up.

  ^

  Congratulations, you are now a wizard!

  To begin your journey please select 2 spell books from the list.

  Alexander looked at it for a second—his mind not immediately catching up to the oddity that this presented—then he clicked the X button in the top corner closing the translucent window. He let out a wide yawn as he stretched his arms, then got out of bed. He moved to his bathroom to relieve himself, and as he did he thought about an article he had read on REM sleep and how a dream could seemingly manifest during partial consciousness.

  Moving to his kitchen he prepared his breakfast—taking out his glassware container of pre-chopped vegetables, eggs, and cheese—he made an omelet. When he finished plating it and adding his cilantro garnish he jumped backward, startled. He ended up throwing the rest of his garnish all over the kitchen as yet another blue screen popped up:

  ^

  You have gained a level in the skill Cooking!

  Cooking level 3

  You have 3 points to distribute to your Cooking skill tree.

  Alexander waited before closing the window before him this time. He moved to his bathroom and looked in the mirror but the blue screen was not appearing in his reflection. He grabbed his thermometer and took his temperature.

  “Hmm, 98.6. Perfectly normal.” Alexander grunted as he leaned into the mirror and lifted his eyelids and shined a flashlight in his eyes. “No concussion.” He muttered.

  He looked down at the blue screen and once again closed it. The blue screen disappeared.

  “Well, this is rather irritating.”

  Now most people at this point would be investigating further into this supernatural phenomenon, but Alexander Brewton was far from being considered most people. Some wouldn’t even think of him as ‘people’. How come the unbridled potential for power did not give him pause? If you were to ask him the answer would simply be…

  “Because, I am a fully grown, responsible adult.”

  So he did the sensible thing and put on his white collared shirt, tie and glasses, then went to work. He would be honored to hear his employers considered himself the perfect work drone for the corporate empire that was Congo. A web store that could have anything from a bottle of diaper cream to a king size bed delivered to your house within a day. In accordance with his schedule he always arrived at work ten minutes early. He spent an appropriate amount of time parking his Honda Civic in the most desirable available parking space.

  Every morning when he got out of his car he would hear the musical whine of plane engines that were warming up after being carefully, but quickly, loaded with boxes. The employees using the companies complex system to optimize the space available, each square inch representing profits won or lost. He worked at the Mekland, Oklahoma distribution center connected to a commercial airport terminal. The building was a giant white soulless looking box. Alexander wouldn’t have it any other way. There are only a handful of windows, and those are only connected to the managers' offices. Congo wouldn’t want employees looking at the outside world and getting ideas of opportunities outside of the corporate ladder after all.

  As Alexander locked his car he saw movement in his periphery. He looked up to see a pack of… somethings running across the street. In fact, rather than running it seemed as if the pack scurried close to the ground. He quickly chalked it up to be an illusion of the poor morning light. He rationally concluded it was a pack of coyotes hunting extra aggressively as their mating season was coming up soon.

  Alexander pulled out his cell phone and opened a voice memo. Hitting record he muttered into the mic as he walked, “Stop by the apartment clerk and inform them of coyote mating season. Advise them to put out a memo for tenants to be extra careful with small pets.** Additionally inform them that the current leash laws are frequently ignored by the tenants'.” Alexander stopped the recording and nodded to himself.

  Pulling out his key card he swiped it in the card reader to unlock the security carousel, it made him feel important for some reason. He put his lunch in one of the half dozen refrigerators in the break room and grabbed a cheap paper cup and lid for the automated coffee machine. It would make him his choice of vanilla latte, chai tea, or Alexander's favorite, the generic brew. The machine had the trademark faded colors on the vinyl labels, stains from who knows how long ago, and the heating elements had been worn down over the many years. As a result the coffee always came out lukewarm.

  The television was permanently set to the local news so he would glance up at it while waiting for the coffee to cycle. The news anchor was going on about someone vandalizing downtown shops by throwing balls of ice through the windows.

  “It seems the entire downtown shopping area has had its windows broken. Police report that they found balls of ice still melting in the stores. However investigators are confused about how someone could throw the ice hard enough to shatter some of the reinforced windows. Police say they will have more to…”

  Alexander tuned out of the news and shook his head in disgust. The world, in his opinion, had no shortage of counter-productive people. It was his personal quest to seek out and eliminate them from his place of work. To do that of course he must move up the corporate ladder. As the most experienced employee in Human Resources he had made a decent start. An eventual promotion to the Human Resource manager position was almost inevitable. That would put him only one step from Operations Manager of the Mekland distribution center. Then he would feel his past failures concerning his life schedule would be compensated for.

  He clocked in right at six fifteen am and walked almost exactly 500 steps, or a quarter mile if you aren’t tracking, to sit at his cubicle. Along the way he passed a multitude of amazing mechanical constructs; conveyor belts, automated sorting machines integrated with scanners, and specialized robotics designed to further subdivide packages to other destinations. Alexander looked out over the sorting floor and saw the future. Unfortunately, he currently worked mostly with the incompetent humans that could not understand how to access their employee portal and access their schedule or take control of their employee benefits. Most people would find his job to be tedious at best, but routine made him comfortable.

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  He set his coffee down and clicked space bar on his computer. It began the slow wake up process common to the low budget corporate work horse desktops. Clicks and whines of the worn drives broke the silence of his small office space as Alexander was always the first to begin his work. The others would linger next to the clock in station or in the bathrooms playing on their cell phones. Something he had repeatedly pointed out to the home office. Finally, he logged into his emails to see forty two unread messages. Not bad for a Tuesday. He took a sip of his tepid coffee, bleh. Then he swatted at something flashing in his peripheral vision. Alexander jumped in his chair almost spilling his coffee as he looked up to see a notification from that wizard nonsense from an hour ago.

  ^

  To begin your journey please select 2 spell books from the list.

  This time he was unable to locate an option to close the notification. Additionally, Alexander was unable to read his work screen through the hovering supernatural one. With moderate irritation, he looked over a few options just to get the screen out of the way.

  Magic missile? Shocking grasp? Like he would ever need something like that in this world. Why did everything have to be so violent? Then he saw something that caught his eye, for all the wrong reasons. Prestidigitation? Alexander looked at the absolutely ridiculous word. He had studied latin in school, the etymology of this however seemed like a mash up of root languages stuck in a blender and served on a Dr. Seuss book. The effects of the spell were more numerous than the roots of the word. The jumble of effects—like snuffing candles and soiling something that is clean—hardly practical… save one thing that caught his eye, the ability to cool and warm non-living things.

  After a little more deliberation he selected it as well as something called small illusions. The sole reason behind this choice was his nephews seventh birthday was coming up and he was pretty sure the little brat hated him. Alexander imagined himself using illusions to make bugs appear in his slice of cake or something.

  He confirmed his selection and two small books landed on his desk. Alexander took a moment to decide if he should have an existential crisis at this moment. The notifications could easily have been explained away as hallucinations. The manifestations of physical objects before his eyes were a little less so… You are on the clock Alexander, you will have to leave your mental health needs for later. He chided himself. He picked up the book with the word prestidigitation printed on it in a flourishing metallic script. It seemed to be a copper coloration. As he lifted it another prompt appeared and asked him if he wanted to learn the spell. Before he did so he flipped the pages of the book to see a jumble of foreign letters he could not read. What nonsense. He selected yes and he watched the book begin to glow. It grew brighter and brighter before it flashed out of existence. The knowledge of how to manipulate magical energy simply appeared in his brain as if recalling a memory. As he wondered what he was supposed to do next, his instincts lead him to look at his coffee and concentrate on what he wanted it to do. Nothing happened. Then he said the name of the spell. “Prestidigitation.”

  He was surprised to feel… a heat leaking out of his chest. As the feeling stopped he saw a small curl of steam come from the lid of his coffee cup.

  ^

  You have modified a common item.

  You have gained a level in the skill Spell-casting!

  Spell-casting level 1

  You have 1 point to distribute to your Spell-casting skill tree.

  He closed the window not wanting to be side tracked again. He felt this notification thing was going to get old real quick. Coffee in hand he took a slow sip, perfection. Alexanders general loathing for this whole wizard thing lowered… slightly. As he continued to sip on his piping hot coffee he began to muse about his few exposures to the fantasy genre as a child. His parents generally kept him away from any entertainment of the fiction variety. However it was nigh impossible not to have at least one friend who liked Harry Potter or The Lord of the Rings.

  Shaking his head to clear the unproductive thoughts Alexander refocused on his work. He scrolled over to open his emails and noticed someone had unfortunately put out an email blast about his birthday.

  Everybody swing by HR and congratulate Alexander on his thirtieth birthday!

  He doubted many, if any, people would do any such thing. He was not particularly popular in the office, and he had no intentions of changing his ‘no nonsense’ image. He spent the next fifteen minutes answering emails. He always started with the easiest cases first to get into a productive rhythm.

  Your 401k plan only matches up to four percent of your total income in contributions. You have to ask off two weeks in advance for anything over one day off to use paid leave. No we do not reimburse you if your lunch is stolen out of the break room, and no, there are no cameras we can look at to find the thief.

  Once again another annoying blue prompt screen showed up.

  ^

  New Quest!

  Catch the Hamburglar:

  Someone is pilfering the lunches of everyday employees.

  Objective: Find the lunch thief and bring them to justice!

  Quest rewards:

  - 450 xp

  - 3 silver

  On second thought Alexander guessed it couldn’t hurt to look into the lunch thief situation a little closer. He closed the prompt and took another sip of his coffee sighing with delight. The hot coffee was a game changer for his morning routine.

  At this point his annoying cubicle neighbor, Karen, came up behind him and asked, “What are you over here Ooing and Ahhing about while whispering to your creepy ass self?”

  She asked this as she slurped from her forty two ounce big gulp. She would get one every morning and proceed to get a refill during lunch. Alexander looked at the big gulp with loathing. Not only was it bad for her health, thus contributing to the burden on the national healthcare system, she would make the most loud and obnoxious slurping sounds approximately twelve minutes after she finished. Then she would proceed to sip at it every few minutes when the ice melted the tiniest bit.

  Not only that, Karen was a leech on the corporate budget. She would only ever do the bare minimum required of her and would complain and blame everyone else for her shortcomings, Alexander included. He would often waste no less than five minutes explaining the most basic of work protocols to her until he would end up completing the task for her. The profitability of sending any new tasks to her was ultimately negated more often than not. His annoyance with her would often cause him to lose his concentration. This would lead him to taking social missteps just like the one he was about to make.

  Caught up in the moment Alexander made an unexpected outburst, “My onomatopoeia’s are none of your concern Karen. A wizard need not explain himself to the likes of you.”

  “It’s Sharon damn it!”

  Oh, yeah. Her name was Sharon.

  She looked at Alexander for a second and tilted her head. A thin, creepy smile crept on her face.

  “You… a wizard you said? You, because it’s your thirtieth birthday?” She cackled a few time before belly laughing aloud.

  This began to draw some much unwanted attention to Alexanders cubicle sanctum. Sharon then began to choke on her soda and she spat a bit out. Alexander noted the concentration of carbonated droplets, but decided to go ahead sterilize the entire cubicle after she left.

  Alexander felt Sharon’s response felt wrong. Nothing he had said was that funny.

  After wiping the soda off her mouth she continued her mockery, “As in you turn thirty and you're still a virgin kinda wizard!? AH HAA!” She was bent over cry-laughing now.

  Alexander went red in the face. He had forgotten about the internets old wives tale. It was a joke from the early 2000’s stating that one can be endowed with magical powers and become a ‘wizard’ if they refrain from having… intercourse until they turn thirty.

  Turning bright red with embarrassment—and knowing that in these situations defending yourself only made the situation worse—he turned and continued answering emails. He did so until Karen’s… Sharon’s laughter died down as she moved back to her cubicle. Fuming he continued working on his emails. He had almost let it go, but then he heard Karen’s cackling as she proceeded to tell another co-worker of his social misstep.

  Alexander pulled up another voice memo, “Note to self, read employee handbook to make sure revenge plot is not in conflict with corporate employee conduct rules.”

  Ten minutes later, after exhausting her favorite gossip contacts, Karen was back in her chair slurping away at her soda. Shortly after she did Alexander stood up to use the bathroom. This of course was a clever ruse. Alexander had no actual need to relieve himself. He made it a point to use the facilities before clocking in each day. It did provide him with an excuse to walk past Karen’s cubicle however. As he glanced in he saw it littered with pink colored picture frames that said ‘princess’ bedazzled in rhinestone. As he walked he glanced down at her big gulp, already half consumed, then pointed a finger at it he whispered, “Prestidigitation.” The energy again flowed out of him, through his finger this time. His intention, to warm her soda to a disgusting ‘sitting in your car all day’ temperature.

  Miraculously he was able to witness the condensation on the sides of the plastic cup evaporite in less than a second. As he reached to push open the bathroom door he heard Karen's proclamation, “WHAT IN THE FREAKIN HELL?”

  With those words Alexanders irritation also evaporated at the prospect of a slurping free morning. He felt his estimated productivity levels were likely to increase as a result of this.

  Things were going to change around here. This, he felt, was true power. The power to make his distribution center and all of its employees, efficient. With that noble thought firmly planted in his mind he would allow himself to investigate this power further.