Carl was busy arranging the files in the archive when the door creaked open. The hinges gave their usual protesting groan, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Reed slipping in.
"Oh, you're back. I hope the Lieutenant wasn't too hard on you today," Carl said, stacking a bundle of worn folders on the desk.
Reed shrugged off his coat and tossed it onto a chair. "You know how she is…"
"Hey, don't get her wrong—she's just too righteous for her own good," Carl replied, giving a short laugh. "I just wish she'd take it easy sometimes. But then again, if she could just sit back and watch, she wouldn't be here in this backwater."
Reed huffed, crossing the room toward the shelves. "What's so bad about this place? It's peaceful. Honestly, she's lucky to be stationed here—even if it's under detention. If she'd been in the capital, she'd probably have gotten herself killed on some mission by now."
Carl smiled, sliding another folder into place. "That's true enough." He dusted his hands off, glancing at the younger man. "So— are you heading out on patrol, or will you help me with these documents today?"
Reed gave him a long look. "I'd have refused… except you look like you're about to turn into a zombie. Can't let the only other officer here die from paperwork. So, lucky you— you've got a helper today." He tossed in a half-hearted salute.
Carl chuckled. "I must be in worse shape than I thought if even the resident vampire thinks I look like a zombie."
"Guess so." Reed's smirk widened.
"Alright, thanks. Now, get on with it— fill this ledger with the details of goods supplied this year. After that, update the records on the land cleared a few months ago. Then—"
"That's it. I'm starting," Reed cut in before the list could grow any longer, holding up a hand in mock surrender. "And until I ask for more, don't say anything. It's going to take long enough just to finish this much."
"Alright, just try to be quick. The inspection officers from the capital will be here in three weeks— we don't have much time left. And relax, it's not that much work; I'm not planning to chain you here every day," Carl said, his voice edged with weary amusement.
Reed smirked, already pulling the nearest chair toward the desk. "Good to know. I'd hate to think you were planning to work me to death before they even got here." The legs scraped against the floor, the sound sharp in the quiet room, before he settled in and reached for the first ledger.
The rest of the day passed in the same quiet rhythm, the only sounds being the soft rustle of pages turning and the steady scratch of pen on paper, broken occasionally by short breaks for food.
By the time the sun began to set, warm light spilling across the archive's shelves, Reed gathered the completed documents into a neat stack and prepared to leave.
Once home, he shrugged out of his uniform and changed into something more comfortable. Dinner was simple—a meat dish with a side of onion soup. The fragrant steam curled upward as he ladled it into a bowl. The fragrant steam curled upward as he ladled it into a bowl. Taking a slow sip of the hot broth, Reed let out a satisfied sigh, though his gaze drifted absently to the window. The warmth in his hands grounded him, but his mind kept circling back to ledgers, supply lists, and the weight of three short weeks.
Suddenly, he let out a short, amused laugh. Ha… almost feels like I'm just some ordinary clerk, Reed thought, shaking his head as he finished the last of his dinner..
The next few days went by in much the same way—mornings spent on swordsmanship training with Lieutenant Helena, followed by long hours helping with documentation.
Finally, after ten whole days, the work was almost done—at least the urgent part. It wasn't the kind of task that ever truly ended. Reed closed the ledger with a decisive thump and called out, grinning, "It's over, Carl! I'm not dead before finishing the work." He patted himself on the shoulder and looked over at Carl.
Carl glanced up from his files, adjusted his reading glasses, and chuckled. "Good work, Officer Reed. Now you can finally get back to your patrol duties with the lieutenant."
Reed let out a light sigh, more amused than tired. "As much as I'd like to do nothing, patrol is still better than sitting here filling out forms all day."
"You could've gotten a day off if we weren't so tight on schedule and understaffed," Carl said apologetically. "It's been three months since you joined, and you haven't had a single one."
Reed shrugged, smiling. "No problem. Honestly, it's my luck you guys were so desperate for recruits that you hired a novice like me."
"Anyway, before you go on patrol, tell the Captain the documentation will be finished by the end of this week—and get him to sign these forms," Carl said, handing over a stack of papers.
Reed nodded and headed out. The Captain's office was brighter, sunlight spilling through an open window and carrying with it the faint scent of the summer air outside. A few quick words, a couple of signatures, and the papers were done.
Stepping back out, Reed loosened his shoulders and took in the open street ahead. After days cooped up with ledgers, the thought of walking through the village—hearing the bustle, feeling the sun— felt almost like a small reward in itself. He set off toward the main road, ready to begin his patrol.