"You were able to see them, then? The auras?" Lula asked Cole. Her tone was indifferent and placid, as if she hadn't just thrust him into an entirely new concept of reality.
Cole nodded, too stunned to speak.
"Auras, to some degree, represent the amount of free-flowing mana in an object. That isn't always the case, there are plenty of exceptions, but it's a general rule." She said. "You will need to practice with vision to get used to it – eventually using your aurasight will be as easy as breathing."
The mention of breathing made Cole realize that he had been holding his breath. He takes a slow inhale and then says, "Thank you, Lula. I can tell how useful this will be as a surveyor and in life generally."
Lula waves a hand at him dismissively. "Of course, think nothing of it. Simply on-the-job training." She rubs her hands together and continues. "Now that you can see auras, we are able to move to a more advanced lesson: masking your aura."
With the enormity of the aurasight lesson still weighing heavily on his mind, Cole wasn't entirely sure that he would make it through the second lesson of the day, but he didn't dare voice his apprehension to Lula. He would endure some discomfort for an opportunity to learn more about his own abilities or what Heroes are capable of in general. He nods to Lula with determination in his eye. "I'm ready."
When Cole walks down the steps of Windfall Expeditions, he does so with his aura masked. It takes some effort – Cole has a sensation almost like holding in a sneeze, but he gets used to it slowly. The lesson took a few hours. It was now early afternoon; he still had plenty of time to visit the Enchantworks, but he might not have time to follow Lula's advice about searching for an apartment. He mounts his bike feeling better than ever – for now at least, his thoughts are far away from Kat, Mr. Dewford, and his life pre-mana.
He cruised his way to the Enchantworks with a smile on his face. When he arrived, he parked in front of the large brick building. The arched doorway was inviting enough, and Cole wasn't a stranger to the Enchantworks. Any time he had free time in Wakeville, Cole would pop in to make payments on his bike and peruse the other wares for sale. Cole steps through the doorway into the well-kept showroom. All around the large open space are freestanding glass cases of various heights and depths, each displaying dazzling magical equipment. Further back, there were freestanding equipment racks with mundane armor and equipment in many shapes and styles. He made a direct route to that area.
There were fewer offerings for mundane armor here than there would be at a dedicated Armorer's facility, but the nearest dedicated Armorer did business nearly a hundred miles south of here. Folks out in the Green Belt are happy just to get equipment at all. There are sets of armor in many styles and materials – customers have their choice of padded cloth, leather, or steel. Cole examined them all in detail, finding the best fit for his body to be a dark leather chestguard with flared shoulderpads. It was without protection for his arms, but his vitals should be safe from all but the most vicious monsters. A matching set of greaves fit him well and provided enough range of motion that he could crouch, move, and run while armored without discomfort. While he was perusing the gloves, an unknown voice called out from behind him.
"Hey loser, quit playing dress-up and get out of here. We both know you are too broke to buy anything, and I am trying to shop." The tone was dripping with elitism and hostility. By his accent, Cole knew them to be from Perra, the well-to-do city to their south. He couldn't help but grit his teeth. When he turns to see this person, it takes every ounce of his self-control and willpower to keep his face neutral. Standing at the end of the aisle is none other than Dover, his ex's new boyfriend (apparently). Cole makes eye contact for just a moment, then resumes his shopping casually. Don't take the bait, Cole.
"Hey!" Dover said, louder this time. "I am speaking to you!"
If Cole didn't know who this was, he might have fallen for the antagonism. He had never been afraid to have a scrap, and this guy was more than asking for a beating. It's an obvious trap. I beat him senseless and suddenly I'm the jealous and violent ex-boyfriend. Stay calm. Cole puts down the gloves he was inspecting, deciding they would be too bulky. He hoists the chestguard and greaves into his arms and walks toward the service counter, directly past Dover on his way.
Dover could not stand to be ignored. He was immediately furious, stamping his foot like a petulant child. "I know you can hear me, you pathetic grub of a courier!" He was spitting venom now, pure malice in his tone.
Cole stops in his tracks and turns to Dover, smirking. "You're talking to the wrong guy." Cole says casually. He thumbs the cord that holds his surveyor tag, causing the bronze coin to spin slightly. "I'm a surveyor, not a courier. Now, can you keep your voice down? This is a respectable place of business."
Stammering, Dover says, "I-i-impossible! Mr. Dewford told me that you work as a courier, not a surveyor!"
This guy is a joke. "Oh, do we know each other? I didn't think we've met. I do know Aaron Dewford, but I don't keep him informed of my employment status." Cole asked, feigning ignorance.
Dover draws himself up to his full height in an effort to look down his nose at Cole. "My name is Dover Wedgewood, I have been selected as Mr. Dewford's personal protégé. When he retires, I will take over as head of Beanfield Expeditions. "
Cole nods. "That's nice." He says, the same way he would say to a child showing him their favorite rock. He'd love to get a reaction out of me, I can tell. He turns and walks directly to the service counter, leaving Dover standing mouth agape in the center of the Enchantworks.
At the service counter, Cole is greeted by the middle-aged bearded associate. "Hey Cole, good to see you." When Cole hoists the armor up onto the counter, he adds, "Whoa, finally decided to spring for some armor, eh? I'm glad to see it – you've been tempting fate, you know."
Cole is pleased to see a familiar, friendly face behind the counter. Glenn Hammaker was the face of the Enchantworks in Wakeville. When Cole first came here to get a bike for his courier job, Glenn was the one who helped him. "I know, I know, but you can rest easy now, Glenn, I'll be kitted up when I'm riding."
Glenn nodded approvingly. "Look at you, taking my advice like a smart guy." He tallied the items in a big leatherbound register book. "I hope you brought your piggy bank with you, this isn't the bargain bin equipment."
Cole grins at him as he retrieves the blue chip from his pocket. He slides the chip onto the counter and says, "It's not exactly my piggy bank, but hopefully this'll cover it."
Glenn picks up the blue chip and inspects it closely for a second. "Should I even ask where you found this? You're not getting into trouble, are you?"
"Nah, don't be silly. I got a new job, that's all. And before you ask, yes it's on the level. Your stories from your days with the Drumrunners are enough to keep me from getting into gang work." Cole says. Glenn had been regaling Cole with tales of his days as an outlaw for years. Some of the stories were exciting swashbuckling type tales of burglaries and break-ins, but there were three times as many tales of walking into ambushes, jobs gone wrong, and violent vendettas. Thoughts of those stories kept Cole inside the bounds of the law even during his rebellious teenage years.
"Good, good. Your total for the armor is 84 silver coins – do you want store credit chips for the difference, or should I put the rest on your bike balance?" Glenn asked.
"Just toss it on the bike balance, please, she's nearly paid off."
Glenn does some more figuring in the ledger, flipping pages back and forth for a moment. "Looks like it, yeah. Only 20 silver left until you're free and clear. Anything else I can do for you while you're in town?" He picks the armor up off the counter and hands it back to Cole.
"Nothing else for today, thanks." Cole says. "See you next time, Glenn."