“Mis…Miskatonic?” I asked

            “Of course, why so surprised?” he said as we walked into the café, it looked like as much of a café it is it’s that much of a curio shop.

            “It’s just…it’s a very prestigious school.” I said, stuttering to catch my wording.

            “The stigma of the school?” he asked as he tucked his own umbrella into the inner pocket of his leather coat before letting it slide off his shoulders as he folded it over his forearms and held them in front of him. “The school has a reputation for being different. I’m guessing that you went to Academy?”

            “I am a Paradise Academy alum, I’m an Academic.”

            “I could guess.”

            “How so?”

            “Well, the way you reacted when I saw Miskatonic, plus someone like yourself would go there instead of to Miski.” He said

            “What do you mean, someone like me?”

            “You’re a warlord, no?”

            “How…how could you tell?”

            “I am very, very good about sensing and seeing people’s magic. I’ve never met one of your families, but I can guess that you’re a warlord, the way your magic is rooted in yourself and the way it’s around you. Not a lot of people have the levels of magic akin to a warlord.” He said with a soft shrug, I breathed deeply as I reached up and took my mask off as we walked up towards the counter.

            “Hi, what can I get you?” the barista asked, having been too preoccupied by work to notice the conversation we were having.

            “Can I get a pot of lapsong tea?” I asked, “Aden?”

            “Can I just get a black coffee?” Aden asked

            “And the scone sampler, please” I added

            “Alright, alright” she said as she flicked her fingers as magic flourished her fingers, I paid and we walked over to one of the large booths, he set his jacket on a hook on one of the random wooden posts and columns as I hung my own up on another hook. He slid into the booth was a slightly…uncanny grace and elegance, there was something to the way he moved was too smooth, too sleek, and too graceful. I slid into the booth on the other side, luckily the café was for the most part empty except for someone in the far corner with a stack of books as Aden brushed his braid back over his shoulder.

            “So, a professor at Miskatonic” I said as I looked at Aden, his back was straight and flat to the back of the dark maroon leather of the booth, his legs crossed with one knee on his other, his hands rested folded on the higher knee as he somehow just…fit and blended into the room.

            “I am” he said with a soft nod, “So, what kind of surgeon are you?”

            “Well, you said that I am young for a surgeon, so my specifics would be quite…surprising to you, I am the Chief Magical Neurosurgeon.”

            “That is extremely impressive” he said, the smell of his magic swirled around me, I kept feeling this like drawing pull when I met his eyes.

            “I could say the same for yourself” I said, “You went to Miskatonic?”

            “I did”

            “That’s impressive, said to be an incredibly good school.”

            “It is a very good school…So, Vlad…there a last name that goes with that?” he asked with a short raise of his brow.

            “Oh, it’s Marks.”

            “Vlad Marks?” he asked

            “Well…I mean, technically Vlad is short for Vladislav.” I said before shrugging softly, “I could ask the same for yourself, there a last name that goes with Aden?”

            “Ashmore.”

            “Aden Ashmore?”

            “Correct, it was always nice in school when something was done alphabetically.” He said making me laugh softly.

            “One of my cousins’ name starts with a Z, though it’s their first name, so they were still quite early in the alphabet.”

            “Names that start with those last three letters are always such interesting people or they are the most boring people where the most interesting thing about them is the letter their name starts with.” he said making me laugh a little.

            “Here is your coffee and your pot of tea and your scone sampler” a waitress said walking over almost interrupting us, “On the scone sampler, you have…red current with the red lines, black currant with the blue, chocolate chip with the chocolate stripes, lemon poppy seed are quite obvious and cinnamon swirl with the cinnamon on top.”

            “Thank you” Aden said as the woman nodded softly before walking off. “Lapsong, eh…not that popular of a tea.”

            “A lot of people have problems with how it smells and tastes” I said as I looked at the hot water in the pot slowly swirl around the dried lives held in the glass chamber at its center, slowly turning deeper.

            “But you didn’t have a problem with ordering it around me.”

            “I…felt like you wouldn’t mind…do you?”

            “Not at all, lapsong is actually one of my favorite types of tea.”

            It was…actually a big longer than I was expecting that the two of us spent in that café, long before I was done with my pot of tea and the teapot was empty or Aden had gotten a second cup of coffee. As we stepped out of the café, still under the huge dark awning of it, Aden fixed his leather coat before reaching into his vest as he took out this thin little metal case which he flicked open before handing me something.

            “A business card?”

            “It’s got my phone number and name on it; I did some freelance work before I got hired by the school…it’s nice to use if I want someone to ensure they have my phone number.” He said with a wink before rising his umbrella and walking off. I adjusted my mask to fully cover my slightly gaped mouth, instantly the cold and dank world around me felt…almost too warm as I felt all of my blood flood into my face. I looked down to the business card in my hands, the paper for lack of better phrase, felt expensive, it felt thick and heavy for paper, almost parchment like, but a dark, deep rich green color with silvery scrollwork framing along the edges, Aden A. Ashmore across the center in clean, elegant silver embossed script, there was a phone number and email address under his name. There was also a title under his name, I’m guessing it was whatever he was doing freelance before being hired by the school, in matching silver script it said: Arcane Research & Magic Cartography.

            “Did…did I just get hit on?” I asked myself quietly as I rose my umbrella before walking the other direction, still looking at the business card in my hand before it slipped it into my coat pocket as I nearly felt this rise of giddiness rise up in my chest as my boots splashed in the grown puddles as I vanished off into the crowds of people milling about Harbortea. They were probably looking at me like, “What is this lost child doing acting so happy in this weather?” or things along those lines, I’m always getting people thinking I’m much younger than I actually am because of my height. Though, I usually dress a fair bit nicer, I am a surgeon, I have to dress a little nicer for consults or something, I only wear scrubs when I’m in the O.R. I did see that I was garnering a few side-eyes and confused sideways glances as I almost floated bounding back home.