The day dragged on with a slow, aching pull, each minute a weight pressing down on Caelum’s chest. By the time the final bell rang, the pale, gray light of dusk had started to filter through the windows, casting long shadows across the classroom. Caelum blinked at the faint glow outside, watching as the sky bled from dull gray to the darker, richer hues of evening. The air seemed to grow colder, heavier, with the promise of night creeping in.

He stayed at his desk longer than usual, watching as the other students packed up their things, chatting and laughing as if nothing in the world had changed. For them, nothing had. Life moved on as it always did—one hour bleeding into the next. But for Caelum, something had shifted. The world no longer felt stable. The weight of the Titan’s words clung to him, lingering at the edges of his thoughts like a dark cloud.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, the sound slicing through the quiet that had settled over him. Caelum pulled it out, already dreading what he might see.

"It’s time. Meet me at the coffee shop."

His heart gave a painful lurch, and for a moment, the room seemed to tilt sideways. The words on the screen were simple, direct—but they carried a weight that felt almost unbearable. The unknown number. The meeting. It had all been leading to this.

But who was it? And why?

Caelum slipped the phone back into his pocket, his mind spinning. The coffee shop. The one just a few blocks from school. It was a small, quiet place—one he’d been to a few times before with Nolan and Aira, though never on his own. His stomach twisted. His mind immediately began racing through a thousand different scenarios, each one more unsettling than the last.

Who was it?

He pictured the coffee shop in his mind, its warm yellow light spilling out onto the street, casting a welcoming glow against the cold evening. It was always cozy, filled with the smell of freshly ground coffee and the soft murmur of conversation. Normally, it would feel like a safe place, a refuge from the outside world. But now…

What if he walked in and it was a trap? What if they were watching him the entire time, waiting for him to step through the door? Would they recognize him the second he crossed the threshold? His heart hammered in his chest as his imagination ran wild. He tried to picture who it could be—some shadowy figure lurking in the corner, maybe, or someone disguised as an ordinary customer. Would they be sitting there, sipping a coffee, waiting for him to make the first move? Or would they stay hidden until it was too late?

What if he was ambushed on the way there?

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. His mind conjured images of dark alleys and unseen figures, waiting for him to pass by. He could see them now—faces hidden in shadow, eyes watching his every move. Waiting. Silent. Ready to strike.

His fingers tightened around the strap of his bag as he made his way down the school’s hallway, his footsteps slow and uncertain. He could still turn around. He could walk right past the coffee shop, just to see if anyone suspicious was there. He could watch from a distance, try to catch a glimpse of whoever was waiting for him without getting too close. If it looked dangerous, he could walk away. Pretend none of this had ever happened. He could go back to his normal life.

But even as the thought crossed his mind, Caelum knew it was too late for that. There was no going back. The vision of the Titan had changed everything.

Still, the thought of simply walking by the coffee shop, just to look, lingered in his mind. He could go in, maybe order a coffee, sit by the window. Pretend to be a regular customer, no different from anyone else. He could scope out the place, see if anyone stood out. If it didn’t feel right, he could leave. No harm done.

But what if they already knew what he looked like? What if they recognized him the moment he walked in? His stomach twisted again, and a bead of sweat trickled down the back of his neck despite the cool air. He could imagine it now—walking in, ordering a coffee, sitting down at one of the small tables near the window. And then, without warning, a hand on his shoulder, a voice in his ear: “I’ve been waiting for you.”

His breath hitched at the thought, and his pulse quickened.

What if he didn’t go at all?

The idea almost seemed laughable. Not go? How could he not go? The Titan’s words, the messages, the strange pull he felt in his chest—it all pointed to this moment. Whoever was waiting for him, they knew something. Something about the Titan, about the inheritance, about what was happening to him. He couldn’t ignore it. He couldn’t just walk away.

But the fear gnawed at him, growing with each step he took closer to the door that led out into the fading light of dusk. What if going to the coffee shop was a mistake? What if this was exactly what they wanted? What if he was walking right into a trap?

Caelum paused at the edge of the school parking lot, the familiar sight of students heading home, car doors slamming, voices calling out to one another, suddenly feeling foreign. He pulled his phone out of his pocket again, staring at the message.

"Meet me at the coffee shop."

The words were clear. Simple. But the implications were anything but.

He glanced up at the sky, the sun now a sliver of light on the horizon, casting long shadows over the town. The streetlights were flickering on, one by one, casting soft pools of yellow light across the sidewalks. The coffee shop wasn’t far—just a few blocks. He could be there in minutes if he hurried.

But he didn’t hurry.

Instead, he walked slowly, his mind racing ahead of him, playing out every possible scenario. What if he just walked by? What if he stood across the street, just watching for a while? If he saw anything suspicious, he could keep moving. No one would know he was even there. It would be safer that way, right?

But then the doubt crept in. What if whoever it was recognized him from a distance? What if they’d been watching him this whole time? His skin prickled at the thought, his eyes scanning the darkening street as he passed one house after another. Every shadow seemed to shift, every sound seemed louder in the quiet of the evening. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—something—was watching him.

By the time the coffee shop came into view, Caelum’s heart was pounding in his chest. He stopped at the corner, staring at the soft glow of the lights inside. From this distance, it looked… normal. Safe, even. The tables inside were mostly empty, save for a few patrons scattered here and there, sipping their drinks or reading on their phones. The large windows facing the street were fogged up slightly, the warmth from inside mixing with the cool evening air.

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

It looked so ordinary. Just a regular coffee shop. But Caelum knew better than to trust appearances. His fingers curled into fists at his sides, his nails biting into his palms.

He could go inside. Order a coffee. Sit by the window and wait.

Or he could walk away.

He took a step toward the shop, his breath fogging in front of him in the chilly air. His heart raced. His mind screamed at him to turn around, to leave. But his feet carried him forward, one step at a time, until he was standing in front of the door.

This was it.

Whatever was waiting for him inside...

Caelum’s fingers hesitated on the handle of the door, the cool metal sending a chill up his arm. He could still turn back. It wasn’t too late. He could go home, crawl into bed, pretend none of this was happening. Maybe tomorrow everything would go back to normal.

But the weight of the Titan’s voice was still there, heavy in the back of his mind, a presence he couldn’t shake. Whatever was happening, it wasn’t going away. And ignoring it wouldn’t make it stop.

With a deep breath, he pulled the door open.

The bell chimed softly as Caelum stepped inside the coffee shop, the warmth hitting him in a wave. The cozy scent of roasted coffee beans mixed with the faint hum of conversation, and for a moment, he stood just inside the door, his eyes scanning the room.

Normal.

Everything looked normal.

There were no hooded figures lurking in the shadows, no ancient wizards waiting in the corners. Just students, locals, a few regulars sipping their drinks, some reading books or scrolling through their phones. The café's warm glow cast soft light over everything, making it feel almost too ordinary.

Caelum let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. Maybe he had been overthinking everything. Maybe this meeting wasn’t some grand, ominous event. Maybe it was just... a meeting. He could walk in, order a coffee, sit by the window, and figure out what was going on. If something felt wrong, he could leave. Easy.

His eyes drifted toward the counter, where the barista he recognized—a girl with bright blue hair and a friendly smile—was making drinks, steam rising in soft plumes from the espresso machine. He could walk over, order his usual, and sit. Just like any other day.

But then, just as he took a step toward the counter, he heard it.

A soft scrape—barely audible—of wood against the floor.

Caelum’s gaze shifted to the far corner of the café, where a chair was being pushed out from under a small table. The movement was subtle, almost dismissive. His heart skipped a beat as he looked closer, his eyes landing on the girl sitting there. She wore an oversized sweater, its sleeves pulled down over her hands, and her dark hair fell forward, obscuring most of her face. Her posture was casual, one leg stretched out under the table, her body curled over a small journal in front of her. She didn’t look up.

A cardboard-wrapped coffee cup slid across the table toward the empty seat across from her, nudged by her fingers. The gesture was quiet, deliberate, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

No greeting. No acknowledgment. Just the invitation.

Caelum’s stomach twisted as he realized, in that moment, there was no point in pretending. No point in ordering a coffee and sitting by the window. She knew who he was. She’d been waiting for him.

The girl didn’t even look up from her journal. As soon as the cup left her hand, she went back to writing, the pen moving swiftly across the page as if the exchange had never happened. The invitation, so subtle, had dismantled every plan Caelum had made to play it safe. He stood frozen, his hand still in his pocket where his phone rested, as if clinging to the last piece of his reality.

His mind raced. He could still walk away. He could turn around, leave the café, pretend he hadn’t seen her. But even as the thought crossed his mind, he knew it was too late. This was it. Whoever she was, she had him in her sights now. And walking away would only delay whatever this was—whatever this had to be.

Taking a slow breath, Caelum moved toward the table. His steps felt heavier than they should, his heart thudding in his chest. The café, with its warm glow and cozy familiarity, suddenly felt smaller. Like the walls were closing in on him.

He reached the table and hesitated for just a moment, staring down at the cup she’d slid toward him. It was just a regular coffee cup, the cardboard sleeve warm to the touch as his fingers grazed it. Nothing special. Nothing threatening. But his pulse quickened all the same.

The girl still hadn’t looked up.

Caelum sat down slowly, his legs feeling unsteady beneath him. The chair creaked softly under his weight, and he placed his hands flat on the table, as if to steady himself. The cup sat between them, untouched.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The soft sound of her pen scratching against the paper filled the silence between them, the only indication that she even knew he was there. It was as though he’d simply been absorbed into the background of her world, a passive presence she could acknowledge when she was ready.

Caelum watched her hands move across the journal—swift, precise, methodical. The baggy sleeves of her sweater obscured most of her arms, but he could see her fingers peeking out, smudged faintly with ink. Whoever she was, she didn’t seem nervous. If anything, she looked entirely in control. Unbothered. She wasn’t playing games; she knew exactly what she was doing.

But why this? Why the casual air, the quiet invitation? It didn’t match the tension that had been building in his chest since the moment he’d received the message. He’d expected something more... dramatic. Maybe even threatening. But this? This girl, sitting in a corner with her journal and her oversized sweater, felt... anticlimactic. And somehow, that made it worse.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she stopped writing. Her pen hovered for just a moment over the page, and then she set it down next to the journal, still without looking up. The silence between them stretched thin, the soft murmur of the café fading into the background.

When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, quiet—almost too quiet. “You took your time.”

Caelum blinked, startled by the casualness of her tone. “I—” His mouth was dry, and he swallowed hard before trying again. “I wasn’t sure if I should...”

She nodded, as if she’d expected that. As if the hesitation didn’t surprise her in the least. Her fingers traced the edge of her journal absently, still avoiding eye contact. “Most people wouldn’t. That’s why you’re here.”

Caelum’s stomach twisted again. The casualness of her words, the way she acted as though they were old acquaintances meeting for coffee, only made him more uneasy. He opened his mouth to ask the question that had been burning in his mind since he’d walked in, but no sound came out.

The girl finally lifted her head, her eyes locking onto his with an intensity that sent a shiver down Caelum’s spine. Her eyes—violet, almost glowing—were otherworldly, like twin amethysts shimmering beneath the café's warm light.

“You have questions,” she said simply, her voice low but clear. “I have answers. But first, I need to know if you’re ready to listen.”

Caelum’s throat tightened. His mind was still spinning with a thousand possibilities, a thousand scenarios he had imagined on the way here. But now, sitting across from this girl, whose presence felt far too calm, too deliberate, the questions he’d thought he had seemed to evaporate. His hands gripped the cardboard cup in front of him, the warmth barely registering against his skin.

The girl’s gaze didn’t waver. She wasn’t in a hurry, wasn’t pushing him, but her presence was undeniable, filling the space between them like a weight. It was as though her words were more than just a question—they were a door, waiting to be opened. And once opened, Caelum knew, there would be no going back.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he nodded. His voice barely a whisper, he said, “I’m ready.”

Her expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker in her violet eyes, something that shifted ever so slightly—an acknowledgment that this was what she had been waiting for all along.

“Good,” she said, her voice soft but firm. “Then let’s begin.”

And as she spoke, Caelum saw it—the slightest shimmer around her figure. For a moment, her image wavered, as if two realities were fighting to coexist. Her baggy sweater flickered, replaced by something else—a robe, deep and rich, adorned with patterns that seemed to pulse with hidden energy. But even as the illusion struggled, her gaze remained the same—steady, unwavering, and knowing.

Caelum blinked, his breath catching in his throat, but when he opened his eyes, she was just as before—calm, dressed in the simple sweater, her hand still resting on the journal. But he couldn’t shake what he had seen, what had shifted in front of him.

She leaned forward slightly, her violet eyes locked onto his. “My name is Seraphine and there’s more at stake here than you realize,” she said, her voice lowering as if the words were meant only for him. “And this… this is just the beginning.”

The world outside the café felt distant, unreal, as if it had no place here. Everything else faded as Caelum sat there, feeling the weight of what was coming pressing down on him, threatening to crush him.

He took a breath, the air thick in his lungs, and nodded again. The question, ‘Beginning of what?’ In the back of his mind. Whatever came next, he knew, was inevitable.