An incredibly wise man once said life is like a box of chocolates, and I couldn’t agree more with him. You never know what you’re going to get. One moment you could be chowing down on some sweet milk chocolate with a nice creamy caramel filling, and the next you could find yourself eating the bitterest dark nougat filled with essence of ass. Ever since I arrived in this strange world so very different from my own I’d had my fair share of both milky goodness and essence of ass. My line of work, striving to uphold the balance of the world, doesn’t come without its perks and downsides. Fate tends to be a cruel mistress, doling out rewards with one hand, and ass with the other. Some would call Fate cruel, other would say she had blessed them.
All I knew for certain, was she had just set a piece of chocolate in front of me, and I wasn’t going to turn it down.
As I sat in the rather posh café located in Etheria Port, I found myself in a rather uncomfortable situation. Over the past few months I had made a bit of an intellectual rival as it would seem, and after months of heated discussion we were finally going to meet in person with the texts we had been citing to hash it out. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, I met people from all walks of life for all sorts of reasons in my line of work. Yet today I found a knot twisting in turning in my stomach, writhing itself into one hell of a mess that would make even the most skilled of fingers hesitate. For starters, I had only ever been privy to a penname for my would be lunch date. The anonymity had afforded me a bit of leeway within our scholarly group, but it also meant that I never truly knew who I was ever writing to. Secondly, sitting next to me were three tomes so ancient and valuable that it was likely that they were the last copies in existence, making them valuable. Thirdly, my fucking tea was taking ages to make it to the table.
My sapphire eyes glanced around the small building, eyeing up the staff and other patrons with expert care. Any one of them could be an assassin, or a would be thief just waiting for me to drop my guard. Nervously, I ran my right hand through my unruly mane of blonde hair and chewed on my lower lip, contemplating whether or not I had in fact been stood up. We had agreed to meet at high noon, and the sun was already well into the center of the sky. All I could hope was that they could find me, after all I had stated I would be the one in the purple suit and massive tower of books.
I can only hope they’ll be able to spot me.