[ WP ] The world 's oldest , most powerful wizard has had enough of his life . After two thousand years of adventure and magic he desires normalcy . Today is his first day at work as a janitor for an office building . He 's determined to fit in and not use his powers . How does it go ?

Roger hit his fist again on the metal door. His knuckles hurt from the incessant rapping he'd kept up these past few hours. Hours? Yes, it must be hours by now. What light there had been coming in around the locker door and through the slits at his eye level had faded now, and it was dark. He was hungry, and, he really had to pee. 
 
 “ I will not piss myself, ” he said, resting his head against the cool metal of the locker. My god he was uncomfortable. The pain in his back and neck had surpassed excruciating now and he'd ceased to feel his right leg, screwed up behind him. He rapped again on the door. 
 
 “ Is anyone out there? Anyone? ” he called again, “ Please. I'm stuck, ” he said, “ I'm stuck in here. ” He felt tears prick his eyes again. God damn it not again. He thought he'd cried it all out already. Would he be in here all night? Hopeless, he let the sobs wreak his body. He slammed his fist into the door over and again saying, 
 “ Why! Am! I! Such! A! Fuck! U -- ahhhhh! ” he fell forward as the locker door opened all of the sudden and he went sprawling. 
 
 Breathing heavily and still wiping tears from his eyes he became aware of a figure standing over him, broom help aloft, prepared to strike. 
 
 “ What manner of beast are you? ” the figure demanded. He was tall and stood lightly, as if accustomed to battle. For such an old man, he had a commanding presence, and Roger felt himself instantly forgetting the hopelessness of the last few hours. What manner of beast was he? He thought to himself still sprawled on the floor. It was important that he answer this question to the absolute best of his ability. 
 
 “ I am a boy! ” he said finally, excited to have gotten to the root of it. He looked up again at the shadowed face of the old man. 
 
 “ Stand. ” the figure said as he lowered the broom from over his head, and instead rested it in front of him, one hand gripping the top of the handle as if it were a staff. 
 Roger began to stand immediately, and then fell again, finding that his right leg still was asleep 
 
 “ What's wrong with you? ” the voice asked him. Roger, kneeling, massaged his right leg. 
 
 “ I will stand sir, it's just that I ca n't feel my leg. ” He looked up into the face, not an unkindly face, 
 
 Roger could see now, and the eyes were alight, he saw, a bright gold color that immediately left one with the impression of a cunning mind. Compassion replaced the concerned look, and the man closed his eyes quickly, said something low under his breath. Roger stopped trying to get up, and instead felt a warmth emanating up his leg and into his stomach and chest. He felt at peace, and he found he could stand now, easily, and without the daggers in his leg, back or neck. 
 
 “ Is that piss? ” the man said, pointing with his free hand. 
 
 Roger looked down still in his peaceful stupor, to find that in fact he had pissed himself. Surprisingly, he found he did n't mind. 
 
 “ Yes, ” he said cheerfully, looking back at the man. The man let out a sigh, “ Come with me, ” he said and led the way down the hall. 
 Roger stepped out of his puddle of pee and merrily walked behind the man. 
 
 “ I'll leave you to your own mind, shortly, my friend.... er, what is your name young man? ” 
 
 “ Roger, ” Roger said happily. 
 
 “ Roger, ” the man repeated politely, “ I feel that the'pleasant feelings' spell may still be needed for you, however, at least until we can find you a clean pair of pants. What do you think? ” 
 
 “ I think that sounds lovely! ” Roger said. 
 
 “ I thought you might. My fault, of course, should have remembered that the spell's relaxing affect can easily create bathroom mishaps! ” the man seemed vexed, “ but no matter. This is part of the reason retirement was a good idea, ” he said, conspiratorially to Roger, “ You are n't the first that's had the pleasant feelings spell result in an embarrassing scenario, either, mind you. No, no. And you just a boy. A very nasty evening resulted when the'pleasant feelings' spell was used on Master Irollio at a feast. The poor mistress dropped a jug of wine on his pants, and so we thought it prudent to help him enjoy himself by casting a little spell, harmless! We thought. Later, when we found him with the cook in the kitchen pantry, you would n't believe the shock! And him, over thirty five hundred! Pleasant feelings indeed! How old are you, pray tell? ” the man asked. He walked, broom in hand, like a wizened member of parliament, rather than a janitor, Roger pleasantly noted, based on his uniform and the embroidered name, “ Bob ” on the man's breast. 
 
 “ I am 14, ” Roger said, “ 15 in December. ” 
 
 “ 15 in December, my my, we may share a birthday! ” 
 
 “ Wonderful! ” Roger said. 
 
 “ But I'm a might older, as you may be able to tell, ” the man said again, his gold eyes twinkling, and winked at Roger. The man stopped. They were in front of the men's locker room. 
 
 “ Now Roger, almost 15, if you go in there, you will find that there is a wonderful hot shower already going for you, with soap, and a fluffy white towel for you to dry off with. Then you will find that, amazingly, your clothes have been cleansed and lay for you dry and warm, and patched I daresay, ” he said, taking a look at Roger's ripped sleeve. “ All will be lovely, and when you come back out, we can discuss the proceedings which have brought you into the locker in which I found you. Off you go! ” he said, and he gestured with his hand towards the door. 
 
 After his shower, where everything had been exactly as Bob had said, Roger dressed in his newly mended clothes ( was his sweater a different material? That's odd, he thought. ) He came back out of the locker room. The hallway was much colder than the locker room had been, and it smelt of bleach. He found the old man back by his locker, his? Not his, but the one he'd been in. He did n't want to lay claim to the locker, lest Blaine and his buddies thought to have him set up permanent residence there. The man had cleaned the floor where Roger had peed. Roger felt himself redden as he walked up behind the man as he mopped. 
 
 “ I'm er, sorry about that, ” he said, “ I would have cleaned it up myself. ” 
 
 The man did n't turn, but scoffed, and said, “ Och think nothing of it Roger, it was a cinch. Feeling better? ” 
 
 “ I am. Look, thanks so much, I suppose I should be getting home before my Mom gets worried for me. ” 
 
 “ Is she worried do you think? ” the man asked, still mopping. Roger was taken aback a bit. Roger's mother probably was n't home, and would n't be. She had n't been home in three days. He said nothing. 
 
 “ Tell me, ” the man said turning now, and placing his hand atop the mop handle in the same manner as he had done to the broom, “ what exactly did you plan on eating tonight? Mm? Ramen noodles again? And where did that rip in your sleeve come from? I daresay, Blaine and his cronies are n't to blame, are they Roger? ” the man spoke softly, kindly, but Roger felt heat rise up his stomach in anger and disbelief. 
 
 “ Look old man, I do n't know how you know that, but it's none of your damn business. ” 
 
 “ It's not, you are right. I have given up meddling in things that are n't my business, to be honest. ” the man seemed contrite, embarrassed, yet he went on, “ It's only just that, well, I've just started this job, and I suppose I could use some help here. You know, it's a big school. And well, I've made a few concessions, to be sure. I mean, please, no amount of bleach would have that locker room smelling like anything but a pig sty for per-pubescent boys, gods save us, but I have made a serious commitment to doing things the, er, normal way where reasonable. So, perhaps, if you like, you could help me with my work? I'm not near as fast as I once was, and in return for your assistance, I will teach you a bit of what I know. What do you say to that? ” 
 
 He looked expectantly at Roger with his yellow cat eyes. His face was long and angular. He had a well cared for mustache and a small pointed beard, straight as an arrow. His hair was long, it seemed, but was pulled back in a pony tail. Roger could see in his forearms the memory of strength. The man was tall and willowy, and graceful yet there was a curve to his spine that looked unnatural, and a bit of a limp when he walked. He would likely need help to finish cleaning the school, if Roger was being realistic. 
 
 “ Roger, ” he said, “ I imagine you have other things to be doing with your time, but I have a feeling we might help each other. I learned long ago to see into a man's heart, and you, though a young man, have a strong, true heart, but you've had hardship. This is merely a helping hand to you, who I can see could use that which I am no longer willing to wield, to do good in the world, and to carry the torch, as it was passed to me. ” 
 
 Roger hesitated. He had only just met this man, yet he trusted him. Bob had been kind to him, more so than anyone else in this blasted school. There was no reason to not help him that he could think of. He'd nowhere to be, and nothing to do after school... Certainly no one waiting for him. Yet this talk of the passing of the torch? He was confused. 
 
 “ What torch is that? ” Roger asked hesitantly. 
 
 The man smiled warmly, and held up his hand. 
 
 “ This one, ” he said. In his hand, a bright blue flame appeared, and began to dance.
