Chapter 2: The Village Bureaucracy
For a week, things were peaceful. Julian stayed, mostly because he realized his shiny armor was terrible for actual combat but great for reflecting light while he helped Mirella with the kale. Elara found herself enjoying the company, even if she'd never admit it.
But the village of Oakhaven was not content. Mayor Pips, a man whose soul was approximately 90% starch, appeared at the Spire's gate with a mob. Not a pitchfork mob—a paperwork mob.
"Elara Thorne!" Pips bellowed through a megaphone. "You are in violation of Oakhaven Zoning Ordinance 4-B! This tower is an eyesore, your 'familiar' is not on a leash, and you haven't paid the 'Spooky Dwelling' tax in three years!"
"It's not spooky, it's Gothic!" Elara shouted back from her balcony.
"And furthermore," Pips added, his voice dropping to a sinister chill, "we have hired a real professional to handle your... irregularities."
Out of the crowd stepped Malakor the Stern. He was a Witch-Hunter by trade, draped in enough leather and silver chains to sink a small boat. Unlike Julian, Malakor didn't care about princesses or kale. He cared about "cleansing."