"Well that was fun," Syryn grinned as he set down two cups.
"Not you too, Syryn."
"Why not? I too might have become a victim of Art's fuck and dump scheme."
The anti mage frowned at Syryn's words. "I wasn't planning to fuck and dump you."
"Aww, was Art serious about a demonic old man like me?" Syryn's eyes narrowed to slits as he smiled.
"How old are you?" Artemus asked after a pause.
"Older than our combined ages at the very least. I'm a crusty old man. I probably smell like mildew and-"
"But you still looked young in the puzzle box. So you aren't a crusty old man and don't smell like mildew."
"Mmm"
"Does Rowan know?"
Now Artemus was asking dangerous questions.
"He does."
"Everything?"
"Yes."
