The Orbs of Tala

05 | Welcome to the Department of Lost Things

Just as in any society, most Opulents had to earn a living. The Opulent empire had multiple departments keeping everything in order, all interconnected, all had one goal: maintain the universal balance for the great advantage of all Opulents.

But it was not realistically easy. Politics was always present. Therefore, not all departments felt they were treated equally. Or seen as useful as others.

The Eastern Department of Lost Things was among those that had a lot of sentiments. From Opulent Resource privileges to the number of paid vacations, they had complaints. They craved for attention, the same kind bestowed upon the other departments with glossy marble flooring, unlimited and uninterrupted internet, maintenance, carpool services, and others.

They were not the Department of Treasury who kept all the gold, or the Department of Villainy filled of strong Opulent soldiers who did actual covert operations, or the dozen others out there who upheld the glorious name of the Opulent empire.

But they did things no other departments were capable of. Many ignorant Opulents thought they were just a simple lost-and-found department, but they were not. They specialized in finding things from the most bizarre to the most trivial. Their clients were major and minor deities! Even the Department of Villainy asked for their expertise—once! Or twice!

But like the many things or people they were paid to look for, the Department of Lost Things seemed to be invisible to most of the Opulent population. With only four offices, one in each Arena, they were under-manned, and they were drowning in assignments. Well, at least the other offices were drowning.

The easter office was just happily whining while doing close to nothing, which was not their fault, of course. They were not easily accessible as the other three offices.

Saying the office in the Eastern Arena was the least productive could be an understatement, as other Opulents familiar with their work would claim. The other three offices rumored they were useless. And to make it worse, they had just lost one useless manager.

Their office was the Tree House. Located deep inside a vast woodland, the Tree House was nestled between two giant Balete trees. It had no visible structure save for its doors.

An ordinary human—should one ever be stupid enough to step out of a Vesta and enter the woodland—could easily pass through it without feeling or seeing anything apart from the rare slight prickle at the back of their neck, but that was probably because of the entity that guarded the place.

The Tree House was not a "house", but for the Opulents working there, it was home.

And today was just another morning at the office.

"And I'm telling you, girl, it's going to be a hit," the man was saying to the receptionist, Esha, who had her eyes closed while he carefully drew a bindi pattern on her forehead with a liquid eyeliner.

"I'm not sure it's really unique 'unique', Al," Esha murmured, without moving.

Al paused from what he was doing and leaned back. When Esha opened her eyes, he dramatically blinked at her in disbelief. "Now, why would you say that?"

Esha rolled her eyes. "Girl, your novel is practically about everyone in the office."

Al straightened, his tall build casting a shadow over Esha. He brushed his taupe chiffon coat aside, revealing a white floral button shirt tucked under khaki pants, and placed his wrists on his hips. "No, of course not!"

Esha counted with her fingers. "An Indian who has never set foot in India—oh, wait, she sounds familiar!" she said, mockingly pointing at herself.

Al scoffed. "There are loads of Indians who had never set foot in India. Don't be delusional. You're my best friend, but I can't write about you. My character actually knows her lineage, darling, and that's Saraswati, the goddess of music, wisdom, speech, art, etcetera," he explained with a dramatic wave of his hand. "And some unnamed angel of the sea or something."