The sign outside the office read:

MARLIN AMBROSE, LMWT
Licensed Magical Wellness Therapist

Below it, in smaller letters:

"Helping you process things since 1437."

Daniel stared at the sign for a moment before stepping inside.

The waiting room was calm, comfortable, and only mildly magical. Enchanted magazines turned their own pages, a few potted plants floated lazily near the ceiling, and behind the reception desk a woman knitted a scarf made entirely of tiny rainclouds. A nearby shelf displayed several rattling boxes beneath a sign that read:

CURSED OBJECTS FOR THERAPEUTIC PURPOSES ONLY

Daniel wisely chose not to investigate.

A door opened down the hallway and an elderly wizard emerged wearing a cardigan embroidered with constellations. His beard was magnificent, his spectacles were crooked, and he carried a clipboard with the confidence of a man who had spent centuries listening to other people's problems.

"Daniel," he said warmly. "Come on back."

The office itself felt larger than the building should have allowed. Bookshelves lined the walls, a fountain bubbled quietly in the corner, and sunlight poured through impossible windows. As Daniel sat down, his attention drifted to a framed photograph on the desk.

Two elderly wizards stood side by side, looking almost identical.

Daniel pointed. "Wait. Is that Merlin?"

Marlin closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Every single patient asks."

"So it is Merlin."

"My older brother."

Daniel laughed. "That has to be rough."

"You spend fifteen hundred years building a respectable career in magical mental health, and everyone remembers the guy with the sword and the king."

"To be fair, it was a pretty memorable sword."

Marlin sighed. "I know."

He settled into his chair and opened his clipboard. The humor faded into the comfortable rhythm of a familiar session as Daniel talked about work, responsibilities, future plans, and the growing frustration of feeling stuck despite constantly moving.

When he finally ran out of things to say, Marlin nodded thoughtfully.

"You keep describing these problems as things you've been carrying around."

Daniel shrugged. "Feels that way."

"Excellent."

The wizard rolled up his sleeves.

Daniel immediately became nervous.

With a casual flick of his fingers, Marlin cast a spell. A large wooden crate appeared in the middle of the office with a heavy thud.

The label on the side read:

EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE

Daniel stared.

"You can do that?"

"Technically no," Marlin admitted. "The licensing board has concerns."

The lid popped open.

Inside sat dozens of objects. A brick labeled THAT THING YOU SAID IN 2014. A grandfather clock labeled WASTED TIME. Several crates marked WHAT IF? stacked precariously on top of each other.

And at the very bottom sat a massive bowling ball labeled FEAR OF FAILURE.

Daniel winced. "Well, that's embarrassingly accurate."

Together they sorted through the contents. Some burdens shrank once examined. Others vanished entirely after being acknowledged. A few turned out to be far smaller than Daniel had imagined.

Only the bowling ball remained.

Marlin nudged it gently with his shoe.

"That one stays."

Daniel frowned. "Even with magic?"

"Especially with magic." Marlin leaned back in his chair. "Most people think therapy is about making problems disappear. Usually it's about learning which ones you can set down and which ones you simply learn to carry differently."

For a moment the room was quiet except for the fountain.

Then Marlin cast one final spell. A soft silver glow surrounded Daniel.

"Detect emotions," Marlin explained.

"And?"

The wizard studied the shimmering aura for a moment before smiling.

"You're frustrated. Exhausted. Worried about the future." He paused. "And hopeful."

Daniel laughed. "No I'm not."

The silver glow immediately brightened.

Marlin pointed at it. "Evidence suggests otherwise."

When the session finally ended, Daniel stood and gathered his things. As he reached the door, he glanced back toward the family photograph.

"Does Merlin ever visit?"

"Every Christmas."

"What's that like?"

Marlin shuddered. "Imagine being compared to your overachieving sibling for fifteen hundred years."

Daniel laughed all the way into the hallway.

As the door closed behind him, he could have sworn one of the cursed boxes on the waiting-room shelf gave him a friendly wave.

Given the neighborhood, he wasn't entirely sure it hadn't.