Witchcraft

job:

The world is ever changing- learning more and more by the second. It’s truly wondrous how quick countries and people can rise, steadily developing increasingly complex works to foster their growth. Sometimes, however, things move a bit too fast, and people decide to stick to what they know.

Upon hearing the surname Astra, not a single soul in this world would ever dare to synonymize it with anything denoting technological wisdom. Priding themselves for traditionalism and a return to the ‘good old’ ways, Noel’s family spoke of even the simplest technologies as obscene witchcraft. So, while Fiore indulged in the wonders of modernism, Noel was kept in isolation, away from the ‘tainting, opulent technologies’ that were rising in popularity. And now he needed an iLac.

What on Earthland is an iLac?

Noel didn’t have a clue- not even close. Perhaps a remote flower, a local delicacy? He couldn’t really fathom it. Soon enough, however, he learned the true purpose of the mystery: a magical device that allowed for long-range communication. Sounded simple enough, right?

The Neutral Grounds - an overcrowded, non-magical and arid zone that reeked of oil and gas. Needless to say, the young sorcerer wasn’t the biggest fan, especially when it dawned on him that his magic would temporarily take its leave. He wasn’t intending on using his weaponry any time soon, but being stripped of his self-defence in new territory didn’t exactly feel great. Nonetheless, there wasn’t much of a choice to be made. He needed this item for his future, and so he pulled himself together.

Strutting through the busy streets, Noel tried to find his way through the massive city. His navigation skills relied purely on asking random strangers for direction and hoping that their voice was loud enough to hear over the bustling crowd. After a while, the factory came in sight, reaching over the nearby buildings with its grandiose stature. Now all that was left was to grab the device and take a quick leave-

Oh, he wasn’t the only one.

Patience was never a virtue Noel really possessed. His feet started tapping and turning within 5 minutes of standing in line. Before he knew it, he was sneakily sliding past absent-minded people, locking in on his prey of the day: the salesmen. There came a point in the line, however, where he found himself standing behind a particularly menacing group of individuals, and Noel knew better than to pick fights he couldn’t win. Maybe he would’ve tried with his magic, but without a blade by his side, his confidence considerably lowered.

Following a painstakingly long waiting game of 3 eons and 10 decennia (read: about 15 minutes), Noel finally reached one of the employees. Their faces both aligned: exhausted, but trying hard to smile formally.

“Thank you for trying out our product. Do you have a color preference?” The man monotonously stated, hands already reaching to the collection of iLacs.

“How about gold, or marine?” Noel questioned, though his tongue retracted swiftly as he laid eyes on the dissatisfied look of the man before him.

“Just blue is fine.”

The worker reached for one of the small technological boxes, the backside coated in a layer of ugly light blue. There was no going back now.

“Enjoy your purchase, next!”