The young man spotted the grey luggage on the turnstile, pausing only long enough to see the name Rowan scribbled on the luggage tag before hoisting it and it’s matching mate from the moving belt. Stepping away from the chaos of the baggage claim Rowan stacked the smaller piece on top of the larger one making sure the luggage strap secured it. With those two bags set and his personal bag, a small but stylish duffle bag securely draped over his shoulder he pulled out his cellphone to make a call.

Balancing the phone between shoulder and ear, Rowan made his way through the airport with the comfortable ease of someone who’d navigated it numerous times before. “Yes. Yes I know I am late. I can’t help that my second flight got delayed. No. I am here now.” He paused the conversation as a little girl darted right in front of him.

“Katie. Katie you can’t do that.” The woman who Rowan assumed was the little girls mother turned to him. “I am so sorry about that.” And she promptly took off after, Katie. A smile teased the young man’s face. The girl looked like she was keeping her mother on her toes. Good for her.

He turned his attention back to the phone as he continued on. “What? No. I am here NOW. Right now. I have my luggage already. Yes. Yes. Alright, fine.” Hanging up, he slipped the phone into the back pocked of dark washed jeans. With a hand free he attempted to brush some of the wrinkles of travel from the golden button down he wore, but frustratingly had little success for the effort. Not that it mattered.

As he neared the exit he paused to pull a leather jacket from the duffle bag along with a red scarf. Both were thrown on and actively hid the unseemly sight of his shirt while preparing him for the nasty bite of winter.

And it bit hard.

Finding a spot to await his ride, Rowan was finally able to free his shoulder of the duffle bag after nearly ripping out a few purple wefts that somehow got tucked underneath the strap of the bag. The rest of his luggage he left to stand beside him within easy reach to keep any potential thefts at bay. After all, the location he found himself in certainly wasn’t the safest of places and he knew that from personal experience.

A heavy sigh escaped him as he fished into his coat pockets and pulled out a metal case holding a small stash of cigarettes. Plucking one out of the case he placed it between his lips before searching for his lighter. Patting his other back jean pocket resulted in a frustrated huff as he dug into interior pockets of his jacket. Eventually he found the metal lighter and lifted it to his much desired addiction.

He sucked in the sweet nicotine as eyes settled on the horizon of Destiny City. Ironic actually, the name. Try as he might to get away from this hell town, he was unable to free himself from her embrace. He could feel it, the tension. The tension of the unknown, fear, and that small touch of excitement.

Fingers shook ever so slightly as he reached to pull the cigarette from his mouth, exhaling a cloud of smoke. Eyes shifted to the little item. It was this damn city's fault that he even took up smoking, even if it was occasional. He needed something to calm his nerves, but at the same time it reminded him of…things. Events and people he wanted to forget. Perhaps it was more than the addiction fueling his continued need. It didn’t seem fair.

But life was never fair. “I learned that the hard way, didn’t I?” He muttered as he took another drag.

He leaned against the side of the airport as cars and buses slipped by picking up or dropping off people. Closing his eyes he let the nicotine do its job of calming overactive nerves while he mildly wondered how long he’d have to wait for things to kick off? God he hoped he would get more than a single evening, but he couldn’t go much longer without a night time excursion. He’d put it off long enough having wanted to say his goodbye to friends before he left.

The vibration of his phone caught his attention and he reached behind to grab the device to find a text saying his ride was 2 minutes out. Ripping the half smoked cigarette from his mouth he used the side of the building to put it out, dropping it to the ground before gathering his duffle bag back up.

Right on time a black SUV matching the description he was looking for pulled up. A middle aged gentleman with short cropped hair, and glasses rolled down the window. “Aelius?”

“Yea. Call me Rowan though.” He knew he told them that, but he supposed using his actual name was more professional.

The driver got out to help with loading up the bags while Rowan made himself comfortable in the back seat. The leather interior was to his taste. It was almost like he was going back home. Well, he supposed, in a way he was. After all, even if his mother didn’t recognize him as her missing son, she certainly had recognized his skill. Why else would she have hired him? ‘I suppose my stage name helped.’ He admitted to himself. He had taken it out of pure nostalgia and a bit of an “F you’ to the fates that decided he needed to relinquish the life of luxury that he had enjoyed so much.

Rowan smiled at that. He’d get what he wanted, and despite what he knew was coming, he was going to do his damn best to nudge Lady Fate towards something he wanted. This was all just the beginning of it all. Rising tension and all.

Yes, he was going home. And all of the good and bad of his past was going to catch up to him eventually but for now, he would allow himself this one small measure of happiness. For now, he could pretend his life was completely his own.

(WC: 1044)