Lahar couldn't help but tap his fingers in agitation. He understood the importance of letting Doranbolt compose himself before discussing work-related matters, but Lahar had never claimed to be a patient man, by any stretch of the imagination.

Well, if Lahar was being completely honest with himself, the reason for his impatience stemmed from a tiny bit of anxiety. In truth, he regretted his earlier words, spoken with such unabashed cruelty. The guilt was clawing at him, and he dreaded seeing the other man's face. Although his words were true, they did not need to be said to blatantly.

Lahar sighed, dragging his fingers through the limp black strands that hung loosely around his face. In his haste to escape his junior, he had forgotten to put his hair up in its trademark bun. It seemed that Doranbolt made everything more difficult. Oh well. Maybe Lahar needed a little disorder in his otherwise perfectionistic life.

Lahar shook his head at the stray thought. He had worked his whole life to get to this point. One chaotic, mentally injured man could ruin it all.

Or, just maybe, his unpredictability could fill the constant void inside Lahar's chest. At that thought, Lahar couldn't stop the scoff that escaped his lips. There was no way that Doranbolt could do anything for Lahar. He couldn't even keep his sanity without a large dose of alcohol numbing his senses.

As if Lahar's thoughts had summoned him, Doranbolt chose that moment to enter the breakfast area. He looked terrible, although his attempt to clean himself up was apparent. It wasn't simply the disarray of his clothes that made him look horrible, it was his eyes. They looked dull, as if all emotion had been drained from his cerulean gaze. Seeing Doranbolt look broken and weak had Lahar's chest painfully spasming, as if trying to feel the pain that Doranbolt felt.

Doranbolt sat down at the table, eyes boring relentlessly into Lahar's. He didn't get food from the buffet area; he didn't even spare it a glance. All that he did was stare listlessly into Lahar's eyes, as if expecting an answer to his unanswered questions.

It made Lahar feel uneasy. He wasn't used to people looking in the eye. Most of the people he dealt with were either criminals or other council members, both of which refused to maintain steady eye contact with him. Doranbolt especially fell into the latter category. Especially after Tenroujimma, Doranbolt had diligently avoided his gaze, refusing to let the hatred and anger towards Lahar show in his eyes. Lahar knew of it, of course. He rarely missed the small nuances that afflicted his subordinates. He had simply let the distain slide, thinking that with time, the anger would fade.

While Lahar wished that Doranbolt's hateful emotions would vanish, he had never wished for the emotionless gaze that he now received. Once again, guilt flooded him, bringing with it a cold sensation that slowly built in his stomach. Lahar simply wanted Doranbolt to say something to break the tense silence.

"So, why do you want me again, after all these years?" Doranbolt inquired, gaze still fixated on Lahar.

Relief washed through Lahar. With the silence broken, he could focus on informing Lahar of his mission. "We have an assignment. This comes directly from Guran Doma and he told me to bring one capable officer with me in order to help me with my investigation.

"Wait. If he told you to choose someone, then why did it have to be me? There are a lot of other people that are more suitable to help with an investigation. Besides, I formally requested a leave of absence. I'm not technically in the Rune Knights right now." Dornbolt protested.

"I chose you because of the nature of your magic. None of my other subordinates would have been as useful as you will be. Besides…" Lahar folded his hands, leaning in towards the other man. "…It was either that, or you would have a permanent leave of absence."

Doranbolt's eyes narrowed. "Lahar, are you threatening me?"

Lahar pushed his glasses to the bridge of his nose, the lenses glinting menacingly as he did so. "Doranbolt, you should know by now that I do not threaten. My words are always backed by my actions."

A scoff flew from Doranbolt's lips. "Don't mess with words, Lahar. My patience is wearing thin. You know I have no desire to partake in word games."

"Then I shall 'cut to the chase'. A dark guild has stolen a critical document from the council's database. We are to retrieve the classified documents and erase the guild member's memories regarding the information. And, above all, the public cannot know that the council has had a security breach, so all operations must be done out of the public eye." Lahar assessed Doranbolt's reactions from behind his glasses. When Doranbolt made no move to interject in his tale, Lahar continued. "That is where you come in. I need you to sneak into the guild and steal the documents without any of the guild members noticing. With your memory magic, you'll be able to…"

"No way! I refuse!" Doranbolt shouted, fists smashing into the table in a shower of woodchips. He stood up, fists trembling from suppressed rage. All around them, spectators stared in a mixture of fear and curiosity, braced for a fight between the two men. Azure eyes blazed furiously as Doranbolt unclenched his jaw to speak. His voice was a husky growl, rage seething in his tone. "There's no way that you expect me to do that again. The last time that you made me infiltrate a guild…" Doranbolt's voice trailed up, his eyes becoming glassy and unfocused. He continued to speak, but it was in a string of nonsensical phrases.

The murmur of gossiping voices swelled in Lahar's ears and he felt the sudden urge to protect his subordinate from the stares that were directed at him. Without thinking, he yanked on the immobile man, pulling him from the room in a whirlwind of swishing white robes. He led Doranbolt back into their room, tossing him into the bed. Doranbolt barely reacted to the quick change of surroundings, continuing to mutter inaudibly to himself.

Lahar let out a breath that he didn't know that he was holding, bringing up a hand to rest his chin in. He needed to rethink his plan for retrieving those documents. Doranbolt would still play a crucial role, however, Lahar couldn't risk him retreating back inside himself during the mission.

Lahar sighed as he felt the stirrings of a headache gather at the back of his skull. Already one day into the mission and he already felt like it was too much for him to handle. He could hardly imagine how the next few weeks would play out.

Violet eyes darted to the shattered man lying on the bed. Yes, Lahar definitely had his work cut out for him.

A/N. Yay. Another chapter. Sorry I haven't updated in a while. Long story short, my laptop committed suicide, so I have to write on my downstairs computer. Well, that would be fine, except for the fact that my parents are super conservative homophobes. So, basically, I have to steal my little sister's laptop in order to write this story until I can save up enough money to purchase a new laptop. So, to my wonderful readers, don't worry, I am not abandoning this story. It will just take a bit longer than I expected to write this. Sorry for the trouble.