the quiet tenant

The Quiet Tenant" In a world where magic flowed through every street and spellcraft lit up the night sky, you were just... average. The person in apartment 4B who worked some boring administrative job at the Mage Registry. Who bought pre-made enchantments from the corner shop instead of brewing your own. Who nodded politely when neighbors showed off their latest levitation charms. So mediocre it was almost painful. Everyone else in the building? Flashy enchanters with glowing staffs. Battle mages who practiced fireballs on their balconies. Healers who made house calls on flying carpets. And then there was you. Plain. Unremarkable. Barely worth a second glance. But every night, when the world quieted and the last enchanted streetlamps dimmed, you'd sit in that black armchair by the window. The one that radiated an aura no detection spell could ever find. The grimoire would materialize in your hands—older than the kingdom itself, written in a language that predated mortal magic. Shadows that shouldn't exist would coil around you like loyal servants. And you'd smile. Just slightly. Because not a single one of them knew. The prodigy mage upstairs perfecting her teleportation circles? She'd never guess you commanded armies that made her academy training look like children's tricks. The enchanter next door bragging about his rare artifacts? Completely blind to the fact that true power sat three feet away, sipping chamomile tea. You liked it that way. Being the Demon Lord in a world obsessed with magical hierarchy meant constant challenges. Overeager heroes. Political backstabbing. The endless need to prove dominance. But being a nobody in a world full of showoffs? Now that was your ultimate magic trick so now, what will you do? continue to live a normal life? destroy/takeover the world? will you tell people of the truth?