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Coffee and Cake

The Sorcerer had taken an interest in the girl who had yet to grasp the full nature of her abilities. There weren’t any mages around this region besides the two of them, and he had only come to Pria three months ago.

Before his arrival here, he hadn’t sensed any magic at all. At least not from another human. This had gone on for decades as The Sorcerer traveled from place to place, keeping himself alert for others like him with no such luck…until very recently that is.

The Sorcerer was able to spot other mages and magical beings through sense alone. The girl he was observing today had yet to learn this trick. She will probably never be as good as he was, since this sensing ability was one innate to him, an ability that his body had naturally picked up on as a boy. He wondered what her innate ability was.

The Sorcerer picked up his warm mug of cocoa-flavored coffee and brought it to his lips. The flavorful liquid practically scorched his mouth. Wincing, he set it back down. It was still a bit too hot at the moment, but it was going to be delicious. He knew with the little taste he’d gotten from it and couldn’t wait to have another. But he also knew that patience was a virtue.

Situated across the street of the local library, the outdoor seating of this busy cafe was both for great coffee and stealthy observation. Though he preferred to come here mostly for the coffee and the snacks. At least for now he could dig in to his chocolate lava cake while he waited for his mug to cool.

The girl had exited the library, hoisting her book bag on her shoulder. She had a slim physique, looked to be about twenty, maybe younger. Her long hair was jet black and tied up in in a braided bun today. She wore soft camel pants and a black sequinned top paired with a gray shawl—fitting for Pria's LightSpring weather, with the little warmth it offered.

She was walking away from the library now. The Sorcerer was surprised she was allowed to move about on her own today. After all, the girl rarely ever left her house. She had been dropped off by a small carriage down the block from the library, but that carriage wasn’t in sight right now to pick her up. The Sorcerer knew the girl’s parents kept a tight eye on her; it was evident by her short walks around her home’s perimeter, as that is how far she was permitted to go outside the gates. This was the first time The Sorcerer had witnessed her receive her father’s permission—reluctant as he was—to explore town on her own without either of her parents’ accompaniment.

He wondered vaguely of what she was up to. He’d been watching her like an unabashed stalker for five months, pondering over when he could approach her. The timing needed to be right, because the last thing he wanted was to make himself look like a suspicious deviant. A man who preyed on young females for pleasure.

No. He couldn’t have that.

The Sorcerer lifted his mug to his lips again as he watched the girl’s departing figure grow smaller, her head tilting as she observed the street’s activities, her body awkwardly dodging the oncoming and going hordes of people—similar to a tourist’s first day in Pria. He was sure she had discovered her magic by now, though he sensed that she hardly ever used it. Her magic was muted, unexpressed, and hardly desirable. She held very little power, though it was still power nonetheless. Power that can still be brought out in some means or another. Time would tell.

Some mages were late bloomers. This young mage was practically a newborn.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

“May I bring you anything else?”

The Sorcerer flinched, dribbling some of the coffee he had just been about to drink down his shirt. He did not hear the waitress approach his table.

“Shit,” he cursed quietly. It burned through his clothes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that!” the waitress said in a panic, making a grab for some table napkins. “I didn’t mean to startle you, really!”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it,” The Sorcerer said, absently reaching a hand for the napkins while staring down at the brown stains on his white shirt—

Their hands touched and he flinched again. More of the coffee he’d been holding in his other hand dripped onto his pants.

At least he was wearing black pants. Perhaps now would be a good time to set the mug on the table before it was wasted on anything else.

“Oh! Sorry, I’m so so sorry,” the waitress said, dropping the napkins on the table. “I can get you another mug—”

“I’d rather you not.” Because then he would have to wait for that one to cool as well, and The Sorcerer was running low on patience.

After dabbing off some of the mess, he finally took a look at the waitress’ face. She was a dark and hefty, hazel-eyed girl with a nice smile, as strained as it was right now. Her face was flushed, obviously worried about the mess she had made on a customer. She reminded him a bit of his fourth wife. She too had beautiful hazel eyes, and a shy, clumsy personality.

The Sorcerer grunted uncomfortably, then let out a laugh as he forced out the memory of a woman long gone. “Really, I’m—I’m fine. It’s okay. Accidents happen.”

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to replace your coffee for you, free of charge. And maybe add on another cake if you wish?”

That offer was a bit tempting…

“Sure…wait—actually no. Never mind. I’ll just have the check please.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Polite grin. “Thank you.”

The waitress flashed him a brilliant, service-winning smile. “No problem. My apologies again, I’ll get your check for you.” She glanced at his table number and left to retrieve his check.

The seventy years he’d spent in near isolation certainly hadn’t helped him better his people skills. But he had always been a recluse person, and a full century’s worth of human interaction prior to his self-isolation had naturally tired him out.

He drank what was left of his drink, unable to fully enjoy it as the wetness on his clothes was uncomfortably distracting. Especially since this climate was on the colder side.

The waitress came back and stood directly in his view this time so as not to startle him again. He wanted to groan.

“Here you are,” she said sweetly, sliding him both the bill and a small pastry bag, “and a little something extra.”

“Oh, you really didn’t have to.”

“It’s on the house.” She smiled again. It was warm and friendly, with a hint of a shy, flirtatious charm.

The pastry bag was warm. He peeked into it and found a freshly made chocolate lava cake. The aroma was enticing already.

“I appreciate it,” he told her sincerely. “Thank you very much.”

“Any time! Have a great day, and I hope to see you back here very soon.”

He paid, buttoned up his coat—which thankfully covered up the embarrassing spill on his shirt—and headed in the direction of Pria's main social center—The Diamond. It was strange to think that over half a century ago, this place had been a mere no-name village, slowly growing into to the populous town it was today.

The amount of people and trades may have increased, but the beautiful mountain view had never changed. He was surrounded on all sides by the same gigantic snow-peaked mountains that had existed in the ages before mankind, picturesque against the blue sky and white clouds like a painting, but better. Mount Lilith was the peak that towered above them all, so high and mighty its head went far beyond the clouds.

The Sorcerer passed a couple of street musicians sitting on a mat at the corner. One was playing the sitar, the other the tabla. A classical tune, the melody soft, romantic, and smooth, easy on a dreamer’s soul. He dropped a few coins into their wood box, which was already almost full. Listeners beside him were doing the same.

The musicians smiled their thanks as they played on.

The Sorcerer’s thoughts drifted from the music to the girl he’d been watching. He had a plan in mind—one that had taken decades in seclusion to formulate. A plan to revive a world that had been shattered before he was born—a world where his kind had once ruled.

And he needed this girl to help him achieve it.