Madeline woke the next day, feeling surprisingly good. She went to clean up and when she finished, checked her slate. She did feel a little surprised at how late she had slept in, but dismissed it as needing to heal. Then she went for a walk.

Toronto was a nice place, especially at the beginning of Autumn, and her walk along Lake Ontario was filled with elementalists practicing their craft, enjoying the weather and naturally higher concentration of magic the lake afforded to water based magics. People flew, surfed, and happily enjoyed the lovely day. The city had cleared a large part of the ruined metropolis after the city had been razed, opting to create spaces where people could freely practice magic without being too much of a bother. It was a little to rowdy for Madeline, but it was amusing when children flopped over after running out of mana.

Her hometown had never recovered to the same degree that Toronto had, though in North America the only places that had survived at all were the areas around the great lakes or nestled in the Appalachian mountains. Madeline smiled a little, remembering how her little brother had always wanted to go to Mexico, despite the trip being extremely dangerous. Madeline and her family were nowhere close to either. But her brother had gotten his wish, and had been stationed in northern Mexico on his second deployment.

Spying an orb of water about a meter across held aloft by what looked like an apprentice magos by the look of his blue robes, she quietly whispered a spell that added a bit of water, destabilizing the spell and sending it splashing down onto the unfortunate college student. Smirking, she hurried away as inconspicuously as possible. She had to get it in before they outgrew her in power, after all. It still made her jealous, seeing the ease at which others performed tasks she struggled with. She was only good at imbuing mana into her body. Not much help against a fireball, if she was honest.

Eventually, she decided to head home, electing to use a little magic to put a spring in her step, and she arrived at her door in minutes. She slipped inside, and checked the slate, sighing in exasperation at the list of missed calls from her mother. She called her back on the spot. Her mother picked up on the second ring.

“Hey Mom.” Madeline said, slightly out of breath from the magic exertion. Laying the slate into its projecting dock, her mother’s face flickered to life. A projected hologram frowning at her with a familiar anger.

“Madeline. I called eleven times. Why didn’t you pick up.” She demanded, but her voice stayed low.

“Accident at work, was in the hospital.” Madeline replied curtly.

“Oh? Still trying to get me to believe you work for the Zoo?” Her mother replied snarkily.

“You know I’m not allowed to tell you what I’m doing.” She replied, and her mother sighed as a look of concern crossed her face.

“I’m just worried about you, Maddie. There’s a lot of nasty stuff out there, and with your brother in the expeditionary force I don’t exactly see you two often.” Her mother said, looking sad. Madeline felt a twinge of guilt, but then threw it out the window when her mother kept talking. “You know, you aren’t getting any young-” Her mother started, and Madeline stopped her.

“Mother, we talked about this.” The tone of her voice must not have been enough.

“I know, but-”

“I’ve got another forty years at least before it becomes a problem, and you’re likely to live well past three hundred. It is not going to be a problem.” Madeline said, running through the line she’d practiced for situations like this.

“Fine, honey. But your little brother already has four. Wait too long and you’ll never catch up!” She cackled, then ended the call before Madeline could respond. Her anger nearly boiled over into calling her back, but the few times she had done so had resulted in a more than just a little animosity with her sibling. So she held herself back, gently picking up the slate and depositing it on the kitchen counter.

A message appeared, from her mother. She read it, her blood singing with magical rage, despite her magical exhaustion after the short journey. It was a free introductory course to cooking, already booked for this evening. This time the anger did boil over and she nearly hurled the slate across the room before she caught herself.

Calming her rage, she decided to investigate the course. Which was fortunate, as her mother had done some homework. The class took a few streets over, and was apparently fairly prestigious, despite its slightly tired looking building. She read the booking, sighing. She didn’t want to go at all. But her mother was right about one thing. Madeline was truly a terrible cook.

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Madeline strode into the tired brick building, a tarnished bell dinging gently from her arrival. It was a small establishment with a bar running the width of the restaurant, and a row of couples’ tables lining the windows. Everything in the restaurant looked weathered but cared for, which was unusual to see when repairs could be done with a flick of a wrist and a simple incantation.

“Welcome! Flip the sign on the door and come around the back of the bar!” Shouted a man from the back, and she complied, making her way around the bar and to the kitchen where five others were gathered. “Hello ma’am, you would be Ms. Gray, I presume?” A smartly dressed man stated, checking off what appeared to be her name on a clipboard with a pen. How quaint, Madeline thought while suppressing a smile.

“Yes, that is me.” Madeline replied, giving the others in the room a better look. They was an even amount of men and women, which did not surprise Madeline, given that the course was one meant to teach couples to cook together.

“Excellent!” The clipboard man said, setting it aside. Then he hurried to the back of the rather spacious kitchen, pulling a long, thin rectangular table to the group who quickly moved to claim places. He busied himself by putting on an apron, then whirled back to the table with more charisma than Captain Jameson had expressed in years. Rolling up his sleeves, he made everyone introduce themselves, and eventually Madeline was forced to as well.

“Hello, I’m Madeline, I’ve worked for at the Zoo for, six years now? And I’m taking this course because my mother thinks I’m a terrible cook.” Madeline said, giving her usual alibi.

“Well Ms. Gray, candor is always welcome, and there is no such thing as a terrible cook, only an inexperienced one.” Clipboard man said before introducing himself. “I am Erwin Wicker, owner and chef of the Easy Street Bar. And I’m here because you all wanted to be here.” He said with a smirk, eliciting a chuckle from his customers. He continued with as much enthusiasm as before, bringing out ingredients while simultaneously guiding the novices through little techniques to make preparing food faster without magic.

There was little flair in his movements, but he seamlessly guided five people through making six plates of crispy duck breast and vegetables, topped by a fruit sauce or glaze that had Madeline’s mouth watering before they were halfway done.

Bellies full and a few celebratory bottles of wine drunk by the group, the students turned to leave just before midnight. Madeline helped clean up a little, feeling guilty about the horrendous mess they had made. Wicker thanked her, and they had the place cleaned quicker than she thought possible without magic. As she put away the last knife in a drawer, she turned around to see Mr. Wicker leaning leaning against his stove, arms crossed.

“I appreciate you helping me clean, Ms. Gray.” Mr. Wicker said, the charisma largely gone from his voice.

“So you are human.” Remarked Madeline with a tired grin towards Mr. Wicker.

“Pardon?” He said, raising an eyebrow.

“You sounded tired for the first time tonight.” She said hurriedly, hoping to not come off as rude.

“Ah.” He said, regarding her with his eyes. One eye, actually, Madeline realized. With the charisma gone and the man not buzzing all over the place, she realized he had a false eye. A good one, but false nonetheless. Madeline realized she was staring and looked away, feeling awkward.

“Sorry, I just noticed your eye. I did not mean to be rude.” She muttered, bringing her gaze back up to his.

“Oh, that. It’s quite good isn’t it? The shade of green was difficult to match.” He said, his voice flat. Once eye contact was made with the proper eye, his brow furrowed a little.

“It is, I hadn’t noticed it until now.” Madeline replied comfortably, assured that she hadn’t utterly destroyed this relationship as well.

“It seems we’re both noticing things now.” Mr. Wicker replied, his voice slicing through her comfort. He turned around, walking around and putting up another miscellaneous clean items and putting them away.

“What?” Madeline asked, bewildered.

“When was the last time you fed?” Wicker asked, closing a cabinet.

“When I last ate? Wasn’t that just now?” Madeline replied, and Wicker regarded her for a moment before shrugging.

“You tell me.” He said with some annoyance.

“Can you stop with the cryptic bullshit and give me a straight answer!” Said Madeline with exasperation fueled with tipsy bravado.

“Sure. Are you a demon?” He asked simply, returning to the stove to lean on it. Madeline, for her part, was speechless.

“That is ridiculous. I’m human.” She stated, moving to leave.

“Sure you are.” Wicker said, following her.

“I get tested at work regularly.” Madeline replied, not thinking.

“The zoo, of all places, tests for demonification?” Wicker replied sarcastically. Madeline froze, then turned back towards him.

“Yes.” She stated, recovering from her momentary jolt.

“Then I apologize, Ms. Gray, my eye must not be as good as it once was. Please have a good night. And do visit again, if circumstances allow.” Wicker said as she walked through the door and didn’t look back. His eye followed her until she was out of sight.