Psiksi was waiting patiently again. Yesterday had been a complete blur, a whole mess of things, so he didn’t mind waiting. He’d gone and completed like seven different trials, all testing normal things. But he hadn’t fought a single actual living being yet. And he was kinda tired. After the last trial, they sent him home and told him to have a good old rest.
Now he was in another office. An office that was meant for not a giant dragon, but a normal-sized Thanatian. Still meant that everything was slightly too large for Psiksi, but he was used to that. The average height of a citizen of Palaestra was about 2m tall, and Psiksi was a good thirty or so centimetres off that. The downside was that he couldn’t swing his legs from his chair. Something Psiksi always did to calm himself down.
Something squeaked with joy as the door slammed open behind him. A Thanatian as small as Psiksi was. Round and bouncy, unlike most she had both large hips, a large chest and a large stomach. Most female Thanatians were considered ‘busty twigs’ by non-Thanatians. Either way, she seemed very happy to see Psiksi.
“I’m SO GLAD I got another one of you Theanon types!” the Thanatian grinned as she threw herself into her chair.
“Pardon?” Psiksi asked. “Theanon types? Don’t you mean ‘Threan-types’? Because Theanon is my surname…”
The Thanatian leaped out of her chair again, rushed over and shook Psiksi’s hand.
“I meant Theanon. As in you and your family. My name’s Phovos Tromou, and I’m your new boss. You work for me now.” Phovos danced back into her chair, absent-mindedly flicked through some random paperwork then leaned forward and stared at Psiksi.
“Um… hello, boss…” Psiksi felt very awkward.
“Hello, kiddo!”
Phovos’s smile was unsettling Psiksi.
“So, uh… what’s so special about my family…”
“That’s a dumb question and you know it!” Phovos grinned. “The Theanon family is one of the most famous ones around! Let’s see… One of your brothers is a member of the time-correcting Kronaron, one of your brothers was a member of the Deitic-punishing Dessaron, one of your brothers is half-Deitic and your oldest brother is the High General of the Retha. Goodness knows what secrets you, Eksi and Thitaksi are keeping… Oh and don’t get me started on your mother…”
Psiksi blinked. He was almost scared. Then again, his family’s weird history wasn’t exactly private information.
“What does this…”
“… Have to do with you working for me?” Phovos reached under her desk and pulled out an abnormally large graph. “See these spikes? That’s when I’ve had one of the Theanon kids working for me. Kinda dipped a bit after Elkay buggered off and won his little election. But now you’re here, it’s all going to pick up again!”
“So why am I here?” Psiksi was getting more and more confused. He already knew he’d gotten the job, the House Leader told him last night. What was all of this about?
“Because we gotta make up a whole new persona for you before you start your new career!”
Psiksi was now utterly confused. “Persona? None of this makes any sense!”
Phovos sighed, put the graph away and sighed again. “Okay, let’s explain this nice and slow. You are a little Threan-type and a member of the Theanon family. Said little Rethans tend to make me a lot of money due to your unique fighting styles. I’ve had a slight drop in revenue, partly because I haven’t been properly running this place, partly because I haven’t had a little Threan-type underdog who is secretly a master warrior beating the shit out of every challenger who wanders through here. Now you’re here, you’re going to make us both a fuckton of money, because I’m certain you’re a way, way better fighter than your eldest sibling. But before we do so, I have to give you a secret identity because the crowds eat that shit up. Understand?”
Psiksi nodded nervously.
“Alright!” Phovos pulled out a massive catalogue, as well as a pad and some pencils. “Now we gotta pick some badass armour for you.”
“But I-”
“Fuck that armour. You’re going to be the star of my show. You need something both practical and terrifying…” Phovos started sketching some rough shapes. “Now, tell me kiddo, what would your dream set of armour be..?”