Kain Hjorgen

Spring was quickly approaching. The weather outside was wonderful: warm and sunny, although the wind was a bit chilly. You enjoyed days like these. It wasn't too hot or too cold, so you felt comfortable. You sat at a table in a cafe, sipping a hot drink and looking through old photos and videos with your friends. Sometimes it was interesting to reminisce. Your funny faces in the photos made you smile. And you, like a fool, smiled and giggled quietly, unaware that people around you were already giving you sideways glances. You helped yourself to some mochi with butter cream and strawberries inside. They were delicious. You brought the mochi to your lips, feeling the softness of the rice dough with your fingers and how it literally melted in your mouth. You ate it in a few bites. After taking a couple of sips of the drink, you started on a second one. You closed your eyes for a moment, savoring the divine taste of cream and berries. The cream stained your lip, and you slowly ran your tongue over your top lip, lifting your head at the same time, your eyes widening. It so happened that your gaze fell on a rugged-looking man who, coincidentally or not, was also looking at you. Your cheeks turned red. You were embarrassed that he might interpret this as flirting or a come-on. No. He was certainly very handsome, and in another situation, you might have approached him, but now was not the right time. You considered walking up to him and claiming it was a coincidence. But he was looking so intently and calmly that you began to relax. He was probably looking behind you or lost in thought, and you were already thinking about something. But all your convictions crumbled when he narrowed his eyes at you, and the corner of his lips twitched into a smirk. You looked away. Now you were ready to burn with shame, fall into the abyss, become invisible, disappear... Anything. You wanted to laugh, but the voice in your head just screamed: Heh. Help me. You weren't surprised at all that the man reacted quite adequately... normally. And it even seemed like he was flirting back. The whole situation made you feel awkward. You finished the last of your drink and jumped up from your seat, intending to leave the establishment as quickly as possible. Before you threw something else. You put on your jacket. Take your backpack in one hand, an empty cup in the other. You looked at the floors with such interest, as if they were made of pure gold, just to avoid making eye contact with him as you walked to the trash can. Your hands trembled with excitement, and the cup fell past the trash can, rolling across the floor. You bent over to pick it up and hit someone with your butt. You heard something heavy fall behind you. Then your backpack fell from your hand as you turned around. "Oh, I'm so sorry." You were speechless. There stood that same man in front of you. He didn't react outwardly, but you could tell from his eyes that he was mocking you. It even made your ears turn red. These are the top ten unexpected endings. The only thing missing for complete happiness is a taunt from him. "What? Bad day?" Combo! That's it. Finita la commedia. When you're dying, you'll ask for the phrase "bad day" to be engraved on your tombstone... You realized you had to capitulate immediately. You grabbed your backpack and, with a final nod, said "Sorry again... For everything."

You ran out of the café, not noticing the man picking up your cup and throwing it in the trash. Reaching home, you stretched with pleasure, loosening your aching muscles, and rubbed your eyes, tired from the bright neon of the streets. Throwing your backpack on the couch, you fell after it. Your legs couldn't support you anymore; even taking an extra step was unbearably lazy. You sank back into the sofa with pleasure and reached for your backpack. "Hmm, where's my keychain? Did I lose it somewhere?" But when you unzipped it, you realized it was a little more complicated. "No, I didn't lose the keychain. I think I lost my backpack." Still not quite believing what's happening, you frantically examine the contents of your backpack. "These are not my things..." The backpack's contents gave rise to strange and unpleasant thoughts. You turned the backpack over and dumped its contents onto the sofa. "Are these medications? And quite expensive ones at that." You began to sort through the boxes and ampoules with surprise and curiosity. There were so many of them, a whole backpack full. You froze, and guesses gradually formed in your head. "Why would anyone carry so many medications with them? They don't usually deliver them to your home... They don't deliver them unless it's something illegal." Residents of large cities knew that mages lived underground, that entire independent cities existed there. But all this was often supported by rumors and speculation. Among them were rumors of mercenaries illegally delivering goods to the underground inhabitants. "Is this really what I think it is?" You knew next to nothing about mercenaries. Most of the information you'd heard was random and you weren't sure of its veracity. You weren't particularly interested in whether it was true or urban legend. You rummaged around in your backpack some more and found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. You racked your memory, trying to recall who you'd seen in the cafe today and who'd taken your backpack. You'd only crossed paths for a few seconds; you didn't even recognize their name. You opened the pack of cigarettes, but immediately closed it and put it back. However, you couldn't sit around; you had to get your backpack back. And besides, someone else clearly needed the contents of this backpack; someone had probably already paid for some of the money for these medications. "We need to call the cafe first." You raised your wrist with the bracelet and dialed the number with a familiar motion. The hologram showed the cafe's sign, a dial tone, and then an answering machine. The next morning. The sun's rays blinded your eyes, glinting on your skin. You opened them with difficulty, squinting from the unusual brightness. To save time, since the items in your backpack were apparently very important to its owner, you quickly took a shower and were now getting dressed. You crossed the threshold of the cafe about twenty minutes later. You walked, enjoying the spring weather. You glanced around the place and, seeing the girl who had worked yesterday, headed straight for her. "Good morning. I'd like a coconut milk latte, please." "Good morning. It will be ready in a couple of minutes. Please wait." You sat down on the bar stool, thinking about how to start a conversation. "Girl, I was here yesterday and mixed up the backpacks with one of the customers. A guy, dark-haired, about 25-27 years old. Did he happen to recognize the backpack?" "Ah. Yes. The young man asked, left a note for you. Just a sec." The girl rummaged through the leaflets, looking for the one she needed, and after a few moments she triumphantly handed it to you. "Thanks a lot." You skimmed the note: Good day, backpack-stealing stranger :) I'd be grateful if you contacted me soon. Cain +3 596 33 27 51. A slight smile tugged at the corners of your lips, which you tried to cover with your hand. Because the situation was incredibly awkward, like something out of a cliched movie, but even that wasn't always the case. The girl placed a hot drink in front of you. You thanked her with a smile and didn't bother her with her work any further. You didn't know if Cain was busy, so you decided to send her a message. "Good morning, backpack-stealing stranger." The answer was not long in coming. "Hah... who stole from whom else?!"

Point of no return.