A Good Deed for the Decade: The Interview
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Aajmal Henry
The Interview
Foreboding, cold shadows coalesced, black tendrils swarmed in the dark, wrapping themselves into form. Piercing through the black, a pair of garish amethyst eyes watching in every direction. The mass whispered maddeningly, unsettling, yet enticing. The mass grew silent, and with a gout of smoke, a being appeared from the darkness, an eerie mist following in its wake. It drifted from the black mass, out across the gleaming marble floors of its palace. It wore draping, decrepit black robes that seemed to darken even the resplendent gold pillars which lined the halls. At first the bottom of its robe was empty, but as the moments passed, charred, misshapen feet spun into form. Its form faded in and out, as if teetering on the edge of existence, but as the moments passed, its presence became more concretely corporeal. “Zanrl!” it called out. Its shrieking, icy thoughts rose into bellowing command. The castle began to shake with the footsteps of something massive. A gargantuan creature turned the corner, otherwise indescribable. It radiated malignant power and burning oppression.
As it turned to face the being, it spoke with a slow, rhythmic, booming voice, with bottomless pitch and unchanging inflection. “My lord! It's been a hundred years!” Zanrl replied. The entity was unfazed. “That is longer than most mortals live, master,” Zanrl said. The being’s thoughts clawed out in rage. “Fear not, Lord. In this century, I have devised a way for you to moor yourself once more to time and space. I have arranged an interview for you,” Zanrl continued. The being’s thoughts reached out, questioning. “An interview is when one meets with an authority to submit themselves for analysis. Deigned worthy, they will be given a post. The entity was amused. “They do not seek to enslave you, my lord, rather, they would offer you an annual salary, payment for your work in their name. Theoretically you could leave their employ at any time,” Zanrl explained. The entity expressed annoyance. “I know, my Lord. Their inefficiency astounds. Nonetheless, they will suit your needs. They seek to meet you at their stronghold in an hour. I have taken the liberty of arranging all the prerequisites,” he said. The entity became distant, leaving for the place of meeting. “Lord, wait! Whomsoever gazes upon your grim countenance dies of despair. You will need a human form. I have conjured one I believe to be fitting.”
At once, this form was adopted by the entity. It did not appear old, maybe thirty-five at most. His skin was a sandy tan and his long, banded hair was stygian black with the first few strands of grey poking through. He wore a finely trimmed mustache and a sharp goatee. His face was angular, severe and perfectly symmetrical. His eyes glowed an unearthly amethyst. He was a tall man, at just over six feet, and slender, sleek. Zanrl was pleased. “Remember Lord, to blend in with mortals, you must speak with your mouth. I have ensured that your voice is suitable for their ears,” he continued.
“I have not spoken in what seems like a long time. This will be interesting,” the entity replied. His voice was sharp and smooth, and he again began approaching the meeting point.
“Wait Lord! Your robes were not in style seven-thousand years ago and your feet must be covered. I will equip you with the latest fashions. The fraying robes turned to dust and were replaced with sleek black belted pants and a tucked-in white button-up shirt, neatly adorned with a solid red tie. Black socks appeared on his feet and over them, black dress boots. Finally, a black peacoat slid over his shoulders and buttoned itself.
“Good, good. Your diligence is appreciated. Is there anything else of mortal culture I need be informed of?” the entity asked. “I have told them your name is Hayden Emory. A fine name that will not prompt further inquiry,” Zanrl replied. The entity was displeased. “I know this may upset you master, but whomsoever hears the name Haa’dal, their heart erupts in flames and sets their soul on fire. Staying on that point, it would be best if the mortals did not find out your true nature. Knowing who you truly are will if nothing else arouse concern if not hysteria. Secrecy will guard your interests from interference,” Zanrl said. The entity nodded. “One more thing, mortals are bound by time and space. Do not demonstrate too much power, or you may arouse suspicion,” Zanrl said. The entity nodded.
“I take my leave now,” he said, and he was outside the meeting spot.
The entity was outside of a short brown building labeled “district office”. “They really don’t build fortresses like they used to,” he said aloud, careful to enunciate every syllable. He entered the building. A woman sat behind a desk, staring into a computer. As Hayden approached, she looked up slowly and sluggishly.
“Name?” she asked, unenthused. Hayden was taken aback.
“Have you no respect!” he replied.
“Look, sir, if you’re not my boss then I don’t care. Now do you have a name or are you just here to annoy me?” she replied. Dark power swirled around Hayden as he stared into her eyes, he clenched his fists and power swelled, but as his form began to twinkle and shadows gathered around him, he relented.
“My name is Hayden Emory, I am here for an interview,” he said, hatred nearly spilling over.
The woman sighed. “You’re the 4 o'clock? The principal should be waiting to speak with you, Three doors down that hallway to the right,” she replied. He swiftly turned away and began drifting down the hall. It was a bright and open building with rows of cubicles. Few people inhabited this building, though someone did scramble past as he closed in on the principal. He stopped at the third door, he could sense the woman behind it. He knew her thoughts, her dreams, her nightmares, her every intention. He opened the door to reveal a short cheery woman with chestnut hair chopped at her shoulders.
“Please, sit down, make yourself comfortable. Hayden was sitting, and closed the door behind him. “My name is Helena Grey, I’m the principal at Gloambrook High. Please, call me Helena,” she said.
Hayden started into her eyes. “You are acknowledged, Helena,” he replied.
She smiled warmly. “Ooh, so professional! You’ll be a great fit!” Helena grabbed a small stack of papers and set them on the desk in front of her. “You have a beautiful resume, and are quite frankly, overqualified. Why are you considering this position?” Helena asked.
Hayden stared silently. “In short, I was told that it would be the best way to do some good, and I am more than capable,” he said after a while.
Helena nodded vivaciously. “You’ll find that you’ll be able to do a lot of good here. We’re willing to offer you a starting salary of $25,000, and some benefits. Does that sound reasonable?” she asked.
“How much is that in souls?” Hayden asked.
“I don't know the conversion off the top of my head, but I assure you our district teacher rates are top of the line!” she replied, her beaming smile unfaltering.
He took another moment. “I suppose that sounds alright,” he responded.
“Great! You’ll start teaching at the beginning of the school year. Most people walk out. I’m glad to see your dedication even before landing the job!” Hayden nodded blankly. “You didn't apply to teach anything in specific, what did you have in mind?” Helena asked.
“What are the options,” Hayden asked in reply. Helena listed the school offerings, everything from summoning to calculus. “You don't have a class for dark magic curses?” Hayden asked.
Helena shook her head. “We strive to provide a safe and inclusive environment for our students and faculty, and so do not allow any cursing.”
“I see,” Hayden replied. He thought back across his storied memory. He was the greatest wizard ever. Teaching magic would be easy. He had created countless plagues, scourges, and maladies, so biology sounded reasonable, and across human history, he was a constant. “History, biology, and magic,” he said firmly.
“That sounds lovely. We’ll give you three blocks of charms and pixie magic, a block of advanced bio, a block of world history and a block of summoning. We’ll send you the curricula as soon as possible. She checked the papers again. “Am I reading this correctly? It says your address is in the shadow realm?” she asked. Hayden gave a curt nod. “Ok, we’ll see what we can do,” she replied, standing up. “I think that’s all. It’ll be lovely having you on our faculty and I’ll look forward to showing your room next week,” she said. Helena reached out to shake Hayden’s hand. He accepted, and as he touched her, looked moderately surprised.
“I will be going now,” he said, leaving without waiting for a response. He left the room before returning to his palace in the shadow realm. Helena’s eyes followed him as he drifted through the door.
“Zanrl!” Hayden yelled. His voice carried through the empty halls. Zanrl was summoned into the presence of his master. “You have done well, servant. I shook a woman’s hand and she didn't even turn to stone. She says I will see my “Room” next week,” Hayden said.
“Ah yes, your classroom. This is where students will gather at designated times to garner your wisdom,” Zanrl explained.
Hayden nodded. “Good, good… I hunger! Bring me my meal!” he replied. A bowl of cereal appeared before him.
“This should sustain your human form, my lord,” Zanrl said.
Hayden’s rage rattled the stars. “Have you lost all reason! I want souls! The souls of the damned!” he yelled.
Zanrl was unmoved. “You know you’re on a souls diet,” he replied.
Hayden shook his head incredulously. “Even souls of the damned? I understand no innocent souls but…”
Zanrl cut him off. “Master, your power is unimaginably vast, nigh all-encompassing, but if you continue your current route, you will become evil ascendant. You will be the emptiness between stars, the darkness that consumes, the plague that ravages nations, suicide’s dejection, the paranoia that splits friends. You will become the driving force of the cosmos. You will be all these things, but you will no longer be Haa’dal. You have attained all the power there is to attain, and if you continue trying, you will stop being you. I saved you once already, as you created me to serve you, and so I will continue along my directive, and that means no souls!” he said.
Hayden sighed. “Cereal it is,” he relented. Disheartened, he ate a spoonful, then another, then another. “This tastes like despair!” Hayden exclaimed.
“Yes master, they're wheat squares,” Zanrl replied.
