Invitation

With his head bent, Al made his way back to the apartment, his brow repeatedly creasing and uncreasing on the way while his hands tightened into fists, then unclenched while shaking a bit, as if he couldn't really control what they wanted to do, and he was unsure, himself, regarding exactly what his feelings were.

Even as he looked back on it, the entire experience was an incredibly happy one. Each and every second he had spent with Jessica had been filled with the utmost happiness he had ever felt in his life, but beneath it all, there was a faint undertone of suspicion, a hint of a thought that was at the very edge of his vision, but whose existence he could not forget, even though sometimes he wished that it would disappear.

It had come into being the moment he had accepted to take on that odyssey, and despite everything that had happened afterward, it just wouldn't leave. It had also been given strength when Jessica had left, and even though that kiss, the end, that had been completely unexpected but very well appreciated was still at the very forefront of his mind, the thought played an infuriating game with him, escaping whenever he tried to grasp it half-heartedly, but taunting him every time it did, showing him just how important it was and just how seriously he should take it.

Reaching the door of his apartment, he stepped inside while still not really paying any attention to his surroundings. His mind kept going to the rush of ecstasy he had felt every time she had come close to him, and every time she had done something that only couples did…and although he really wanted to read a lot into this, he stopped himself forcefully, understanding that these were signs of his youthful adolescent showing their barbs. He had every intention of enjoying these experiences which might just be the highlights of his life, romantically, at least…but like a perfect meal that was soured by a single rotten element, he just couldn't bring himself to close his eyes and embrace what was budding between them.

Letting out a deep breath and deciding that he was better off putting this matter to the side and thinking about it later, when he could study it from some distance, he made to walk forward and begin preparing dinner. Food delivery services were still a very competitive business even in the modern world, but the fact from before the Apocalypse, as many called it, where home-made food was a cheaper alternative was still true. Before he took even a single step from the doorway, though, he paused when he heard, rather than saw something skitter across the floor, and with a frown, he finally came back to the present and looked in the direction of the noise to find out its source.

It looked harmless, at first, merely possessing the appearance of a golden ball with no markings, and the size of a golf ball. It was only a moment later that he understood the ramifications behind its existence here, and with his eyes widening, he whirled around and started to look for signs of forced entry.

His frown only deepened when he found no such thing. The door was intact, and the old trick that he used to check whether anyone had entered hadn't been disturbed. Picking up the unmoved strand of hair that he always placed between the door and the door frame before locking up on his way out, he twirled it between his fingers while taking a couple more minutes to ensure that he hadn't missed anything.

He checked on the outside, too, as it was probable that whoever had come here might have left some signs of their arrival or departure. There was no such thing, and because he wasn't in one of those high-tech apartments where every corridor was constantly recorded and even guarded by spells laid down by skilled security mages, there was no way to try and uncover the identity of the messenger.

This only left one alternative, and it was something that anyone before the apocalypse would never have been able to think of.

Magic.

As he hadn't obtained his first Blessing, he had no means of placing a spell on his door. Hence, even the weakest mage could cast a spell to pick the lock…but something more complex had happened here.

'Three possibilities, off the top of my head. The person might have used 'phase shift', allowing them to step through the door as if it was air. The person might be skilled in miniaturization, which would allow them to make the ball small enough to pass through the bottom of the door. And third… if he is a true master, he could simply teleport it inside without even coming here. All three point to the fact that whoever did this is a powerful mage…but why would they be interested in me?'

He always had a habit of being able to forget worrying about something if he found no way to deal with that. This applied to things not related to the area of romance he had stumbled into, of course, as he hadn't been successful, at all, in doing anything similar with regards to his date with Jessica…but for the moment, the fear leaked out of him and he felt more surprise than indignation due to the fact that someone had invaded his privacy in such an egregious manner.

Closing the door behind him, he walked to the golden ball and picked it up. Turning it all around in his fingers, he tried to see whether there was an indentation of any sort, but it was small and so utterly smooth that he couldn't even figure out how it might have been made.

After a few seconds, he glowered at it, finding no way to unlock its secrets, but exactly 10 seconds after his hands had touched it, it vibrated, causing him to jump and almost drop it on the floor.

Managing to hold on at the very last moment, he stared, amazed, as the top half of the ball shimmered as if it was made of nothing but air, then disappeared.

The flat surface of the half-globe left behind looked like the surface of a golden sea, calm and still, reflected everything above and possessing a tantalizing attraction for anyone as strapped of wealth as he had been. Before he could do more than look at it, a palm-sized figure of a woman with straight, black hair that fell to her waist, crimson leather clothes that clung to her skin, and a face that was prettier than almost anything he had seen in his life appeared and looked straight at him.

He gasped, wondering whether he was imagining it, but when she spoke, it became obvious that he wasn't.

"There you are. I was just about to check whether the bauble had been delivered or not, so… you've saved me from that conversation, at least! I am Katarina. You might not know me, yet, but you will. Oh, yes, you will! You are hereby invited to my home in one week, on the 25th of February, Third Year of The New Age. Don't even think of skipping out, 'cos there are gonna be all sorts of mages, aristocrats and promising young uns' like you milling about! Deals shall be made. Sponsors shall be found. Magic shall be cast, and you don't want to miss any of it. If you're still undecided...here's one last tidbit. All those who attend with be given a spell, free of cost, before they leave as a gift. From your face, I can tell that I'm going to see you soon! Haha! See you then, then!"