A man in dusty overcoat tugs at his collar as if waiting for something big to happen. It was midday and the hot sun beat down on the necks of of the people coming and going in the market. This man furtively watching the people walk past the street side cafe was no ordinary person, no he was a mage, not just any mage, he was Jon Bethlehem, for what it's worth. Behind his aviator shades hid his baggy eyes he was clearly haggard as if he hadn't slept in days, upon closer inspection one could tell he was drenched in sweat, it wasn't just the heat getting to him, but rather a combination of the aforementioned, and stress.

"It just had to be a market didn't it, so many people that could be watching me, heavens forbid after me because of my magic. No, no I've been careful, I've left no paper trail and thoroughly covered my tracks, there's no way they could have found me yet." He muttered to himself. Yet his doubts still remained, was any of this real, or just a delusion, was he paranoid or were people actually out to get him?

The answer quickly proved irrelevant as he began to perceive the heady odor of ozone filling his mouth and nostrils, he quickly rose placing exact change for his half finished tonic, he set off to find the place where his fellow Magi would be shortly arriving. He was determined to be the first member of the welcoming party, and to see if they could be trusted.

@LetterBee