Washrags & Monsters

Content Warning: The following story is Smut-Free and Totally Safe For Work

+++++

"What do you mean, I didn't pass?" I said, nearly shouting. Not that I was shouting. Or near shouting. I was calm.

"I mean you don't qualify for the field officer training program at this time." said Warden Greene, stonefaced, as usual. Across his desk was shuffled my testwork, admissions info, and pretty much everything there was to know about me. Everything there was to know about me that the Academy of Magic and the Academy's Sentinels, knew about me, at least,

"Which I need to complete to complete the Sentinel training program!" I shouted. Said.

"And unfortunately you do not qualify for the field officer training program. You have already been in the preliminary program longer than most applicants, and quite frankly your scores have continued to not meet Sentinel standards, Adept-cadet leBocer." Warden Greene picked up a few loose files, straightened them, then set it off to the side.

Warden Greene was a grumpy, wrinkled, brownish pink skinned old human man with a square jaw, short blonde-white hair. He was supposed to be my counselor and advisor in the program. He only ever seemed to pick on me instead.

"Just Booker is fine," I snapped. Muttered.

"Your formal records state your surname to be," and Warden Greene picked up my admissions info and peered closely at it, not reacting to my tone, "leBocer, Adept-cadet. Would you rather I call you Adept-cadet Abigail and split the difference? Because I am not about to start calling you by a nickname. We're professionals. Something you would be aware of," and Warden Greene sighed, then put my admissions info down, "If your scores had been up to standard."

I am, or was, I guess, an adept-cadet of the Academy of Magic's Sentinels program. The magic police. The keepers of peace. The sorcerer hunters. Monster fighters. Do gooders.

"I've had program-qualifying scores for each test I've taken, Warden Greene!" I shouted. I mean, said excitedly. "There are lower scoring folks than me who haven't had any talks with you, ever. Who don't even know your name, or what you look like!"

"And yet you are my only regular visitor, Adept-cadet leBocer," stated Warden Greene.

I wasn't the one who started fights. I wasn't the one who started rumors. I especially wasn't classist; by fang and bite, I was an orc! By culture and rite, if not bloodline, but who cared about bloodlines anymore‽

Other than my esteemed, mostly human classmates, I mean. They sure did.

But regardless of all that, I was the one in his office week after week, getting 'advised' by him on what 'not to do' and 'how not to behave' after defending myself from those folks.

I hated him.

"Adept-cadet leBocer. Back to me," said Warden Greene.

He said that to me a lot.

"You need to understand that not every test is going to be an exam you can study for," he continued. "We watch for a lot of things. The things you do understand, you understand better than anyone else here. But the things you're missing, or behind on, you're," he waved his hand a few times, trying to find the words.

"Awful at. Just the worst," I finished for him.

He did wince, to his credit. "I wouldn't have said that, but you would need a great deal of improvement in those areas before you qualified for the field officer program."

"Enough that you're going to kick me out of the program," I said, slinking into my seat.

Booker felt herself detach from herself.

Booker had worked hard to get into the program. Worked hard on her own. Booker loved her family, but they loved to insert themselves into her life. Like they felt like she couldn't succeed without help. She wanted to show that she could do it.

And now Booker was going to go back with yet another failure.

Warden Greene sighed. "Nobody's getting kicked out of anything," said Warden Greene.

"You're not going to kick me out?" Booker said, perking up.

"I said youdon'tqualify, not that youwon't," confirmed Warden Greene. "There is a certain amount of discretion given to senior officers regarding cadets they feel would be a good fit for the program. It's unorthodox, but not unheard of."

I sat up straighter in my seat and felt myself come back. "Discretion ... like, if a warden officer liked me, they could back me, and I'd get in?"

"That's a bit of an over-simplification, and it's really anyone lieutenant-grade or above who's not likely to be relieved of duty before you complete your training, but yes," said Warden Greene, scratching his chin. "And I do think that youcouldbe a good fit for it."

I gulped. Would he really do that for--

"But."

I deflated. Of course there was but. There was always a but.

"Neither I nor any of your various instructors think that you qualify for the field officer program at this time. You are behind in a lot of places. You need to learn social--"

"The only people who're behind socially are--" I began.

"The same people who, upon your graduation, will become your peers and coworkers," Warden Greene said, cutting me off. "I'm not going to say that I appreciate the way they treat you, but you need to be aware that, unless you get better fast, it will be your life. If all of them are acting one way, and you're acting another, whose job is it to change?"

"The nail that sticks out gets hammered down, I know," Booker said, slouching into her chair. Booker had heard a lot of pithy sayings like that from Warden Greene.

"But it's the rough board that needs sanding," said a voice from the hallway, and in poked a familiar brown skinned, black-brown haired head, the hair done up into a five-strand braid. "I'm not too early, am I?"

"Early for what? I didn't-- What brings you here, Ombud Ranitulok?" Warden Greene's eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed.

Ombud Ranitulok cursed from the doorway. "Gods below take that man." Then, louder, she went on. "Seer Heart mentioned that you wanted to talk to me, and that if I wanted to be on time--" She trailed off and cursed under her breath again. "Gods below. He did it again. He knows-- Gods below."

I, meanwhile, came back myself and perked up.

"Hi Ombud!"

Ombud Ranitulok wasn't a Sentinel. She was an Ombud-qualified member of the Washrag Society. She was kind of like a community advocate that could punch people and solve crimes. I only knew that because my clan had arranged for me to have a room at the Washrag Society's Uckelhaus Center, since the Academy Dorms were-- well they weren't great if you couldn't afford an Academy Apartment.

She looked at me and smiled. "Good morning, Booker. Little early to be getting in trouble, isn't it?"

"I'm not in trouble, because I didn't do anything!" I shouted-- said loudly. I added a smile of my own.

"Nobody said you were in trouble, Adept-cadet leBocer," Warden Greene grumbled. "All I'm saying is that you could do with some additional training. Ombud Lieutenant Ranitulok, if Seer Heart has seen that you need to be here for whatever he thinks needs to happen, then I suppose you do. Go ahead and take a seat. Congratulations on the cross-promotion, by the way. Welcome to the Sentinels."

"Thanks. I've still got my fingers crossed that it's enough to soothe all the right bruised egos," said Ombud Ranitulok as she took a seat beside me.

"It wasn't, but they can't complain now," said Warden Greene, fishing for something in one of his desk draws for a moment before giving up.

"Figures," muttered Ombud Ranitulok. Then, louder, "What's brought Booker to your dungeon of an office if she's not in trouble? And Ombud Rawn or Ombud Ranitiulok is fine."

Warden Greene grimaced, then nodded. "Adept-cadet leBocer has had her scores fall behind. She does well enough on tests once she takes them, but it takes her longer to be ready to take them than it does other cadets, few of whom she gets along with, and that's just the surface of it."

Ombud Ranitulok shrugged. "I wasn't so different when I was a Sentinel cadet, was I?"

"Says the young woman who ended up changing programs and becoming a Washragger ad hoc Lead before she could become a Sentinel ad hoc lieutenant," Warden Greene grumped, although he smiled as he said it. "A Sentinel ad hoc Lieutenant in one go at the test, mind, so don't be so quick to discount that feather in your cap." Then shook his head. "Booker needs--"

Warden Greene stopped talking again, then he grinned a grinchy grin.

What joy I had faded, and Ombud Ranitulok's joy faded to match.

"I need what?" I asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"You need to step out with Ombud Ranitulok while I reach out to a few people and get this all properly sorted out. Seer Heart was right, I did need you to drop by, Ombud."

Ombud Ranitulok and I traded glances, then shrugged, left his office, and sat in the almost-too-small chairs just outside it.

"I'm not a young woman," Ombud Ranitulok muttered as we settled in.

"He's in his third adulthood; maybe everyone is just 'young people' when you get to be as old as him," I said, surprised at my defense of Warden Greene.

Ombud Ranitulok opened her mouth, then looked closely at me. "You're most of the way through your second adolescence, aren't you?" she asked, looking me up and down like she'd only just noticed me.

I sat up a little straighter in my seat. "Yep! I'm eighteen, so pretty soon we'llbothbe in our first adulthood! Won't that be cool?"

Ombud Ranitulok tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, then sank back into her seat. "Sadly no. I'm in my transition year to my second adulthood. I'll be well into it by the time you've reached your first."

I stared. "You're thirty-four? You don't look it."

Ombud Ranitulok shrugged, then pursed her lips and made a show of acting cute. "These looks don't age. I'm blessed. Maybe I am still a young woman."

I shook my head. "I don't think you count as young if you're thirty-four."

Ombud Ranitulok snorted, and I blushed deep as I realized what I'd just told her.

"Not that you're old, I mean! You're young in spirit!"

Ombud Ranitulok laughed out loud at that. "Keep on diggin', Booker, you'll reach rock bottom eventually."

I wanted to bury my head in the dirt. "Just go ahead and say I'm still in my third childhood, please," I said, leaning over and putting my head between my knees.

I felt Ombud Ranitulok's hand on my back. "You're not still a child, Booker. I won't give you that escape."

I groaned again.

Ombud Ranitulok was one of my favorite people. She seemed to get me in a way nobody else did, and she never treated me like I was a dumb idiot if I didn't know something, or if I screwed up, no matter what it was. 'We all learn things for the first time at some point, and nobody starts out good', she told me once.

I thought about what Ombud Ranitulok had said, earlier, and sat up.

"When were you a Sentinel cadet?"

Ombud Ranitulok sighed. "I was-- gods below, I must have been less than a third of the way through my second childhood. I thought that the only way to be taken seriously as a Maandite was to show that we could be part of the Sentinels too, that we weren't just under-cogs at the Academy or scenery-fillers for the outer Aamand island-districts. I wanted everyone to know that we mattered."

I leaned in closer. "What made you change your mind?"

She shrugged, and sat back; I hadn't even noticed until then how animated she'd been.

"Commander Eamnunn had a talk with me. He wasn't commander then. He still thought, well, hoped, I think, that they wouldn't promote him anymore. Besides, you know all the drama you deal with with the other cadets?"

"Not all of the other cadets. Just the other adept-cadets. I don't think the mage-cadets notice me. The magus-cadets sure don't." I realized that's not what she'd asked. "But what about it? Wait, you don't mean that it was that bad then, too, do you?"

She smiled and nodded. "I do. I don't want to say that it was worse, maybe that it was bad in different ways, but it was drama-filled. Nothing like the Washrag Society. Forget formal training, I don't think we'd haveofficersif not for the fact that the Sentinels and Marshalls only seem to understand the world through titles."

"But Warden Greene said you got promoted, right into the Sentinels! I didn't know that Washraggers could do that! That's gotta be something!" I protested.

Ombud Ranitulok snorted. "I'm not a member of the Sentinels. I got an ad hoc membership and promotion because the Sentinels wouldn't give up possession of their case unless a Marshall-sanctioned, lieutenant-grade officer or above got it. So I got Marshall-sanctioned and passed their stupid little lieutenant-grade test. I've spent the last month trying to sort out the mess that is the case's paperwork so I could do useful work when I start traveling next week."

"Can't you ask your new underlings to help out?" Supposedly, Sentinel Lieutenant Listr̃æ hadn't stopped crowing about her own promotion for ages, and I hadn't even been in the same class as the one it took to be anywherenearher chain of command to hear aboutthosecomplaints.

Ombud Ranitulok snorted. "Booker, I have as many underlings now as I did before."

"But you didn't have any-- oh. Is that why you didn't mention it sooner?" I asked, trying to not sound hurt about the fact that this was the first time I was hearing about it.

Ombud Ranitulok smiled. "Partly. Mostly it's because the only people my promotion will affect in any serious way are senior level Sentinel officers, and, like I said, they only care about it because of their pride. If I'd known you cared about it so much, I would have told you as soon as I got it, so I'm sorry that I didn't mention it until now."

"It's ok. I just thought ... well, you're forgiven," I said, smiling back at her.

A thought occurred to me. "What case needed you to get a promotion to deal with it?"

Now Ombud Ranitulok did puff up. "Nothing less than Thoximos himself. Nowthatone Iwaswaiting to tell you until we both had a good moment, but the case is such a mess that it's been nothing but bad moments since I got it."

I gasped. The Dread Sorcerer Thoximos the Hadraki was the first sorcerer, the first user of fell and vile magic, in over three centuries to evade capture for more than a week, and he'd been on the run for thirteen years. "That's-- you're in charge of that now‽ That's great! But you don't have anyone to help you with it at all?"

She shrugged. "Not a single soul. We're stretched so thin at Uckelhaus that the best I can do is ask Heart for the occasional future read, and even that's only when he's able, and not running around like a chicken with its head cut off while he connects new--" but suddenly she jerked her hand to her communication earpiece and winced.

"Because it's me who fucking said it! I swear by all the gods that were and are and will be, I will shove my boot up your ass, Root! I will make it fit!" screamed Warden Greene from his office. A few moments later he said "Yes. Thank you, Commander Eamnunn. That is all," much more calmly.

There was another moment of silence, then--

"Ombud Ranitulok, Adept-cadet leBocer? If you could come back into my office. I think I found a way forward that will leave everybody happy."

⁂

Per Warden Greene, Ombud Ranitulok's new lieutenant status meant that she could give me a recommendation into the field officer program. In theory she could have given it right there in his office, and if she was any other Sentinel officer ... if she was any other Sentinel officer and still liked me, she might have. But she was a Washragger, and that meant that she wanted to know that I reallycoulddo it, and do it right. She wanted to know what I knew, what I didn't know, how I reacted under stress, all of it. That I could also help her out, go traveling around, and maybe gain a little preliminary field experience, was just icing on the cake.

So here I was.

"Come on, Booker, step lively, the dock isn't going to bite you," Ombud Ranitulok said, one hand above her head signing back at me, the other holding her halberd, as I got off of the Lift, Aamand's transport system, onto the Academy-side skyport island-district.

The skyport was as alive with activity as it ever was, with airships moored at each spiraled stone docking tower, and each docking tower railway connected to a distribution hub further in. I didn't see any orc clan rigid dirigibles, but that wasn't much of a surprise, since they mostly moored over at the Great Dwarven Bazaar on the other side of Aamand.

What?I wanted to be a dock-worker before I awakened.

"Coming, Ombud!" I shouted after her, toting and maneuvering my chest of things behind me as I went while trying not to stare at everything too much.

It was a beautiful sunny day, so the island-district was alive with activity, and each bridge that connected it to the separate Academy island-districts was buzzing with people. That didn't even take into account the fully loaded passenger and freight Lift transports coming and going from all parts of the city.

"Which ship is it?" I asked once I stopped being distracted and caught up with Ombud Raniutlok. I tried to look around for her ship. Our ship. The ship we were taking, since she seemed to be looking for something in particular, not just whatever was open to passengers. At least, I assumed that she had a regular ship she used.

In the time I'd been distracted by the dock, Ombud Ranitulok had taken off her official coat of office, and had rolled up her sleeves, exposing her vine-like magemark, which wrapped completely up and around her arm. Size didn't necessarily indicate power, but that hers was so big felt like she was a lot more powerful than her 'mage' ranking implied she was. She was certainly more powerful than me.

"The-- oh, gods below, I can't think of the name. The winged something, I think. Some kind of afterlife servant of the Asheri's Nameless God from across the Eastern Ocean. They're like the mekiwamd, but they're bird-people with wings and arms instead of bat-people with arm-wings. Gods below, I should know this. I just saw the paper. They only just got their delivery and transport re-certification from the Council." Ombud Ranitulok began to rub her temple.

"The Wings of Angels?" I said, gasping. "My girl-- my friend Fiona is from that ship!"

We weren't together, or anything, mind. We were just good friends. I forsuredidn'twishthat we were together. Nope. Not at all. Not me.

Ombud Ranitulok snapped her fingers. "That's the one! The Wings of Angels."

She blinked a couple times, then grinned at me. "Your girl? What is this about a--"

Before she could prod, someone shouted "Watch where you're going, Lackey!" at someone else, probably a Sentinel at someone from the Washrag Society, probably because they weren't watching where they were going and walked into them.

Because the Sentinel walked into the Washragger, I mean. Not the other way around.

A chorus of voices shouted "oy!" and "hey!" and things like that. Then there was a sound like bells, and someone's head being hit several times, then the original shouter said "Sorry, I mean, I should have looked where I was going."

The Docks were one of the few places where the Sentinels and the Washrag Society's Washraggers managed to get along.

Not that they didn't get along, mind! Just that they had trouble with each other.

"No worries! Just be sure to look better next time. Yes, that's right, all your thoxling documentation reports," a booming voice replied up ahead. A stream of happy Sentinels turning into very angry ones passed by him, putting knowledge crystal after knowledge crystal into a box he was holding. "Yes, thank you, you're all very kind. Yes, the spell sought you out the moment you expressed interest, just stick it out, that's right."