Normal POV
Compared to the first two times I actually didn't end up getting lost searching for Waver's office.
I knocked on his door three times until I heard a faint "come in."
Stepping inside of the office I spent a moment getting a general look over of the place.
It was surprisingly spacious with two black couches, a brown table, some photos on the wall, two to three shelves, and a long wide office desk with two computers.
Waver was currently working on a stack of paper work and Gray herself was dusting off the shelves.
"Afternoon Professor El-Melloi II, Gray!" I gave them a smile while assuming a laidback posture.
Gray gave a shy nod "good afternoon Rigel," she greeted back before continuing with her work.
"Ah Rigel I see you made it in time. Come here and I'll show you what you'll be doing for your job," Waver said after glancing up to face me from his paperwork.
I stepped closer to the desk, careful not to brush against any of the stacks of paper piled high enough to fall over at any given moment.
Waver leaned back in his chair and let out a tired sigh before tapping the topmost folder with his pen.
"Alright just before you get any ideas," he said flatly, "no, you will not be touching anything related to students, faculty evaluations, or internal Clock Tower politics. I'd rather not trigger an international incident."
"Yikes," I muttered with a wince.
"It's worse than just a simple 'Yikes' as you put it," Waver replied without missing a beat.
He slid a thinner stack of documents toward me.
Compared to the mountains behind his desk, it looked almost merciful.
"This," he continued, "is administrative overflow. Things that technically fall under my jurisdiction but don't require a magus' expertise just time, patience, and the ability to read."
I flipped through the papers carefully.
Most of it was...mundane.
Shockingly so.
Routine correspondence from external associations. Requests for lecture transcripts. Notices from minor magical workshops asking for formal acknowledgment. Shipping confirmations for mystic reagents that had already been delivered weeks ago. Formal apologies from people who had apparently already been chewed out by Waver in previous letters.
"Wow you write some very angry letters Proffessor," I noted with a chuckle.
"That's because idiots don't listen unless they think you're angry," Waver said dryly "now, your job will consist of three things."
He raised one finger.
"First is stamping. Any document marked with a blue mark in the corner gets an acknowledgment stamp and is filed by date. Left cabinet, second drawer. Do not mix them up with the red mark unless you want to accidentally approve a budget increase for necromantic research."
"Right...I'll keep that in mind," I said with a deadpan.
"Second," he raised another finger, "standard replies, these are pre-written templates. You'll just copy them, sign my name, and send them off. If a letter starts demanding favors, threatening lawsuits, or God-forbid start invoking ancient bloodlines, just set it aside I'll handle those," he continued with an eye roll.
I glanced at one envelope with an excessively ornate wax seal "good to know."
"Lastly," Waver finished, raising his final finger, "cataloging. Old reports from field operatives and consultants that have already been resolved. Your job is to log them into the system and archive them. No further analysis is required."
"That's it?" I asked.
Waver stared at me.
"For most people, this is a week's worth of work."
"Oh," I muttered before shrugging.
As James I've always been able to finish a week worth of paper work, mainly because everyone kept dumping their work on me...and I figured that maybe if I did do their work they'd want to hang out afterwards.
Heh, how pathetic am I? I inwardly cursed at myself.
Waver slid a small rectangular stamp toward me along with a thin stack of ink papers "if you finish early, you're free to leave or you can stay here for any questions you might still have about magecraft."
I nodded seriously "got it, sir I'll get to work now."
I took the stack and moved over to the side table near one of the couches, setting everything down neatly.
The stamp felt heavier than it looked, cool metal pressing into my palm as I tested it once on a scrap sheet.
A clean, crisp mark bloomed onto the paper.
...Huh, that was weirdly satisfying.
I took a seat at the side table Waver had cleared for me and began sorting through them.
Gray in the meantime had finished dusting the last shelf, gave Waver a small bow, and quietly moved to sit on one of the couches with a book in hand. The room settled into a comfortable, work-heavy silence broken only by the faint scratching of pens, the soft rustle of paper, and the ticking of a wall clock I hadn't noticed until now.
Blue mark. Stamp. Date. File.
Blue mark. Stamp. Date. File.
It was... easy almost soothing really.
My hands moved on their own, muscle memory kicking in from my past life.
As the minutes passed, I became aware of something else.
Gray.
Not in an obvious way or weird way like most people would probably assume.
The girl herself wasn't staring or doing anything unusual.
She sat properly, ankles together, book resting in her lap,and occasionally turning a page with delicate care.
Yet every so often, I would unconsciously glance at her... something I had sort of noted when I first met her and Waver. But discarded it as shock at meeting an important 'character'.
But now their was this faint tug of a thread I couldn't see.
It was ridiculous.
I knew who she was or rather, who she could be.
A village girl whose village raised her to become the host and reincarnation of Artoria. That knowledge belonged to the me who was once James Parker.
Not Rigel and yet...
I glanced up without thinking.
Our eyes met.
Gray startled slightly, straightening as if she'd been caught doing something improper "s-sorry," she said quickly, even though she hadn't done anything wrong.
"You don't need to apologize," I replied, blinking "I sometimes tend to get distracted when I am not deep in work."
She nodded, clutching her book a little closer "oh...are you having trouble with the work?"
"No, actually it's fine," I said, then hesitated "if anything, it's kind of relaxing."
Her expression softened just a little "I see well that's good then."
That was all.
She went back to reading.
I went back to stamping.
Yet that strange feeling still lingered.
It wasn't recognition but rather it felt like standing in front of a door you knew you'd opened before, even though you couldn't remember when or why.
My head throbbed a bit.
I frowned slightly and forced my attention back to the documents.
Red mark. Set aside.
Ornate seal. Definitely set aside.
Blue mark. Stamp. File.
Time slipped by faster than expected.
By the time I finished the last of the blue-marked stack, I realized with mild surprise that I'd gone through nearly everything Waver had given me.
I checked the clock.
"Huh."
I stood up, gathered the completed files, and quietly approached Waver's desk. He was deep in concentration, brows furrowed, muttering something under his breath about budget committees and morons.
I gently set the organized stack down in the designated spot.
Waver paused.
Then slowly looked up.
"You're done already?"
"Yes, sir."
He stared at the files.
Then at the remaining unsorted pile which was now significantly smaller than it had any right to be.
"That was supposed to take you until evening," Waver said with surprise in his tone.
I shrugged lightly "let's just say I am really good with paperwork."
He smiled before replying "is that so? Then I guess I've figured out what the main part of your job will be then"
"Sadly, I don't have any more paperwork so you can go if you wish," he said after a pause "or like I said before you can stay for any questions. It's up to you."
I hesitated.
Leaving now would be easy.
But...I glanced toward Gray again.
She had looked up, watching us with quiet curiosity. When our eyes met this time, she didn't flinch but still she did look away.
Something in my chest tightened.
"I think I'll hang around here a bit longer," I said "just to pass some time before I have to head back and get my brother."
Waver waved a hand dismissively "as long as you're not in the way."
I returned to my seat, this time closer to the couches, pretending to reorganize the archived reports.
Gray closed her book a few minutes later and stood.
"Um," she said softly, approaching, "would you like some tea Rigel? I was about to make some for Professor El-Melloi II."
"That'd be great," I replied without thinking.
Then quickly added, "I mean if it's not a bother."
She shook her head "it's not."
As she walked toward the small kitchenette, my head suddenly started pounding like someone was smashing a hammer into my skull.
My throat started tightening.
It felt like a pair of hands were squeezing my neck.
A cold-silky female voice starts speaking over and over again in my mind.
["There is nobody who can defeat you, you whom I created"]
["There is nobody who can defeat you, you whom I created"]
["There is nobody who can defeat you, you whom I created"]
["There is nobody who can defeat you, you whom I created"]
["There is nobody who can defeat you, you whom I created"]
The words of the W҉i҉t҉c҉h҉ suddenly return to his mind.
I stood up from the couch only to stagger back a step, fingers digging into my scalp as the pain spiked hard enough to blur my vision.
The room tilted.
My breath hitched, coming out shallow and sharp, like I'd just been plunged underwater.
The voice echoed again
["There is nobody who can defeat you, you whom I created."]
"R-Rigel?"
Gray's voice cut through the haze, close and alarmed.
I barely heard it.
My knees threatened to give out as a flood of sensation crashed over me cold stone beneath my feet, the scent of iron and damp earth, and moonlight fractured through broken arches.
For just a heartbeat, the office wasn't there anymore.
I wasn't there anymore.
A woman's silhouette stood at the edge of my vision.
Tall, regal, and crowned in a dress of black and blue.
Her icy blue eyes stared down at me with such sharpness that it felt like she could see right through my very soul.
Her face was covered by a black veil so I couldn't really grasp a good look at her face.
My throat tightened painfully, and I sucked in a ragged breath as the image shattered like glass.
"Rigel!"
A pair of hands caught my arm before I could fall.
Gray.
Her grip was light, hesitant as if afraid she might hurt me but she didn't let go. Her green eyes were wide with concern, far closer than I realized she'd moved.
"I-I'm sorry," she said quickly, voice trembling just a little, "you suddenly stood up and-are you alright? You look pale."
The pressure in my head receded slowly, leaving behind a dull ache and a lingering sense of... loss. Like something important had brushed against me and slipped away again.
Even the Professor had stood up from his work in alarm
"I'm fine you guys," I lied automatically, "just dizzy. I think I stood up too fast, that's all."
I gathered my bearings and picked up my bag "I am sorry Gray, I'll have to take a raincheck on that Tea. I just remembered that I had something important to do I'll try some next time," I said, giving her a reassuring smile.
"I'll see you on Wednesday, Professor," I gave them both a hasty farewell before hurrying out of the office.
Just...just what the hell was that?!
Certainly, the James side of me didn't recognize them.
The Rigel side of me however was screaming that whoever the woman was felt extremely familiar even though he's never met anyone like her.
-end of chapter-
Hehe so there's more to Rigel then meets the eye.
I've decided after a bit of inner-debatting to incorporate some other smaller aspects of Re: Zero into the story.
In particular this variant of Morgan Le Fay was also in possession of the [Greed] Witch Factor and was basically a bit more like Echidna.