[“It’s so ******** cold.” He murmured as he hurried down the sidewalk. His hands were buried deep within his well-used peacoat, a scarf wrapped tightly around his neck and face buried as much as possible within the knit fabric as he could manage. Winter was never his favorite time of year. Give him the warmth and sunshine of summer any day, but no, he happened to land back in this damn city that welcomed Jack Frost each year.

A stiff breeze had the young man hunching his shoulders but thankfully his goal was coming up. Dodging around a couple clinging to each other like newlyweds, Aelius practically hopped onto the stoop of the shop and glided in with another breeze pushing him along.

The chill of the morning didn’t leave, but the warm ambiance of the coffee shop was enough to coax the scarf from around his neck as he proceeded in. The messenger bag on his side, having been left to bounce against his body to seek warmth for his hands while walking outside, was readjusted from its position on his backside to its proper one along his hip.

The place was busy, as most coffee shops in the morning were, but thankfully he didn’t need to wait terribly long. “Just a medium coffee, black. Two pumps of liquid sugar please.”

The woman, a short thing with a deep complexion and her hair done nicely in a large, curly fro, was obviously over the day as she barely looked at him. “4.35 is your total.”

Aelius handed over a $5 bill, got his change and moved out of the way. The rest of the staff seemed to be holding up with the plethora of orders and Aelius’s came out quick enough. Coffee in hand, he proceeded to seek out a table which proved more difficult than one would think in the morning. After all, weren’t most people nabbing their cup of java for their work day? But, a seat was found and thankfully tucked into a corner secluded enough.

Divesting himself of his messenger bag onto the floor by the chair, Aelius plopped down to the sound of wood scraping on a cement floor. He scooted back in, greeted again with that horrid noise of wood on cement, before reaching down and plucking a small black leather bound book from his bag.

Aware of how hot his drink was likely to be, sips were tentatively taken as the small book, no bigger than his hand, was flipped through in search of a specific page. From there he sat and looked at the names scrawled across the pages in neat, cursive form. Ashanite, Sylvite, Prehnite and most importantly Faustite. All of them perched under a simple header saying Generals. Beside each name was whatever information he had gathered from Niter about them, which honestly, was very little and not terribly much to go on, but the one name he needed little more of. Sure, all of them could be located easily enough. A visit to negaspace would be all it required to hunt them down, but Faustite was the most interesting of the group.

What had happened almost 2 and half years ago that caused Captain Faustite to disappear and what brought about his return and promotion? Why had there been no attempt of contact?

Pulling a pen from the inside pocket of his peacoat, Aelius began to scribble thoughts onto paper under Faustite’s name.

When did they returned?
Why left in the first place?
No bother to contact?
When did promotion happen?
Did they even care?

The last line was hastily scribbled out just as quickly as it was written.

That didn’t matter. It had been years now.

Taking another sip of his coffee, Aelius leaned back in the chair, his book carefully closed and pen atop as he contemplated his options.

There was little chance he could go unnoticed for long. It was risky business that he went this long without checking in and announcing his arrival in Destiny City. He wasn’t afraid to press his luck, but he also wasn’t an idiot. Things could go badly for him if he ran into a General or Eternal that felt the need to assert themselves over a rogue corrupt.

And that was his other problem. How much trouble was he going to find himself in just going back? Sure, he could go and plead he didn’t know what to do with Faustite having disappeared how many years ago. That he panicked and ran. Sure, he could weave a fantastical story to try and make himself appear less a rogue but it was what it was. He left. He ran. He had been gone for years and now he was back.

Biting on his lower lip, Aelius craned his head back, looking at the ceiling. “This is going to be a mess, no matter what.” He murmured softly.

Time was running out.

As if on cue, an alarm on his phone began to chime. Shifting, he pulled it from his back pocket and glanced at it only long enough to silence the device before slipping it back into his back pocket. Both his small book and the pen were placed back into the respective storage areas, before he rose and began preparing himself for the cold outside.

If it wasn’t one job it was the other needing his attention. Unfortunately, one was more imperative to his personal well-being.

Anxiety clawed at his stomach as he began to fully internalize what needed to be done. Life seemed to love kicking him in the jewels each time he felt like life might start to normalize.

So be it.

Throwing the messenger bag over his shoulder and making sure his scarf was secured, Aelius slipped out of the coffee shop with his drink. The warmth of the white paper cup battled the cold of winter as he hurried on along to his upcoming photoshoot.

Might as well bank as much cash as he could now because it felt likely that he would be requiring a few days off of work soon.

(WC: 1024)