The hounds bound forward even more eagerly, as if they can sense Cole's unease. Their massive paws leave smoldering prints with each bounding step. When they are nearly upon him, Cole is surprised by the sudden flare in their aura – they have become stronger, but he didn't know by how much.
He sets his sights on one hellhound in specific, the one who seems to be moving fastest. He shifts his weight from his back foot, twisting his hips to launch a right hook at the creature. The impact knocks the monster unconscious but doesn't stop its momentum. The hulking, scorching hot creature slams into Cole, landing on top of him when they hit the ground. The pain is severe but manageable, and Cole rolls the ragdoll-limp hellhound off him, trying to scramble to his feet. A set of unfathomably strong jaws close around his ankle, ripping him off his feet. His head rocks backward and slams onto the ground with a sickening thunk.
Cole wakes up in bed with his heart pounding. Out the window, the heavy darkness of a moonless night still covers Beanfield. I'm not sure I can sleep after a dream like that. He sits up instead, brushing his blanket aside so that he can cross his legs and settle into a meditative posture. He sends his focus to his manawell, jolting the flow of mana through his body into a more rapid pace. The process is easier and more natural for him than before – the practice is yielding good results.
He turns his mind's eye to the task of camouflaging. Cole stares into the middle distance, his mind locked onto replicating the effect that he felt in the dreamspace. A tingling sensation washes over his body, and Cole understands that his power is working. He sits in this way for some time, acclimating to the way it feels to use this power. The mental workload of the focus was difficult to manage, Cole could not let his mind move to other topics without the effect starting to falter.
When the sun rises above the horizon and sends the first beams of light through his window, Cole stands up. His camouflage flickers in and out several times as he unfolds his stiff legs and rises to his feet. He stabilizes the effect through the faltering and takes a few moments to refocus his mind before taking a step. He takes a centering breath, then steps forward. The movement doesn't interrupt his focus at all – Cole takes three more fluid steps out his bedroom door and into the central living space of his apartment. I'm doing it! He thinks, and his heart flutters with the thrill of novel success. There is a short series of staticky flickers into and back out of view briefly as he reigns in his thoughts and emotions.
Cole felt determined to get acclimated to this new ability and to achieve mastery of it. The potential offensive and defensive benefits of being able to disappear in combat or avoid detection entirely cannot be overstated. He thinks back to when he explored the branch office, imagining how it might have gone differently if he were able to enter stealth mode. At the very least, I should be able to make a sneaky escape from a bad situation.
The morning's practice started to take its toll. Cole drops focus from his camouflage, which causes him to blink back into view. His growling stomach leads him to the apartment's modest kitchenette. The furnishings are spartan but capable – a small hot plate and small refrigerator, both of which were enchanted objects. There is a small sink there as well. He is mortified to see that the sink was full of dirty dishes – the real life consequences of adventure. Determined to eat breakfast before leaving for Wakeville, Cole quickly washed the dishes and checked his refrigerator for ingredients. Katrina had taken most of the food with her when she left, but luckily there are still a few eggs and some peppers in the fridge. He cooks himself an omelet, tosses the dirty dishes back into the sink, and steps into his bathroom for his morning routine. I probably should have washed those dishes, he thinks as he steps under the showerhead, I need to get on the road soon though. I'll get them when I get back. Classic Cole logic.
There might not be an electrical grid here, but the people of the Second Age enjoy many of the creature comforts that are traditional to modern society. Heroes with mastery of crafting, shaping, or transmutation magic are often employed by Enchantworks to create magical consumer goods. Others with these talents, though, are employed by the government to construct plumbing, drainage, and sewage systems, to irrigate farmlands, and raise building. These Engineers, as they're called, are the cornerstone of Second Age civilization. Engineers don't visit as far out as Beanfield much, they are usually tied up in projects closer to the bigger cities. At some point before Cole's time though, some Engineer or Engineer Corp rode to this place and created Beanfield from nothing but an unremarkable, mostly-flat patch of land situated along the First Age roadways.
Clean and dressed, Cole rolls his bike out onto the road and brings the engine to life. His new armor is feeling more natural and comfortable already. His backpack was laden with the goodies he recovered from the branch office in their transport tubes, except for the knife. He decided to keep that for himself. It rests wrapped in an old shirt at the bottom of his pack.
The road to Wakeville is relatively busy this morning, Cole counts eight shipping trucks and three bikes similar to his zipping down the highway between Beanfield and his destination. His first stop of the day is the address Lula wrote down for him. It turns out to be not a typical apartment building at all, it was a large farmhouse at the furthest edge of town. The farmhouse sits on a massive plot of land, the boundary of which is a four-foot-high stone wall. A wooden gate at the front is the only entryway. Once he has parked and dismounted his bike, Cole steps through the gate and walks up a cobblestone path to the porch of the house.
"Can I help you, stranger?" A voice from the porch surprises Cole. He stops walking and looks up to see a woman in her mid-twenties. Her long platinum blonde hair spills like a waterfall over and past her shoulders. She is tall and thin, and her slight figure is exaggerated by her attire: a skin-tight black bodysuit covered every part of her except for her hands and face. A green canvas vest and brown boots completed her outfit, giving Cole the impression that she was a field laborer of some kind.
"Maybe you can, I was given this address to look for an apartment. Do you know if there are any vacancies?" Cole asked from the path. For some reason, he feels apprehensive about approaching any closer, so he stands where he is.
The woman walks down three steps from the porch to the walkway. Her ice blue eyes seem to drill through Cole, her face passive and showing no emotion. She stops a few paces away from Cole. "Someone told you to come here looking for an apartment?"
Cole starts to doubt himself. He looks back at the page Lula gave him. "I think so? Is this place 14 Greensprout?" Cole asks.
"It is. Who gave you the recommendation?" She asks. Her tone feels off – almost defensive, or like she is interrogating him. Something doesn't feel right.
"I just got a new job in town, my boss suggested this as a potential place for me to move." Cole hesitates for a moment, then takes a step backwards. "I can go; I didn't mean to intrude."
"Don't move. I asked you a question. Who sent you here?" If her tone was cold before, it's arctic now.
Cole debates lying, but decides against it – if he isn't meant to be here, it was an honest mistake, there aren't any bad intentions here. "Mrs. Charlemagne of Windfall Expeditions told me you might have vacancies." Cole says, then quickly adds, "It's possible she wrote down the address wrong or was thinking of a different place."
As soon as the woman hears the name, the tension in her shoulders relaxes visibly. "Oh. Are you Bridges?"
His apprehension turns quickly to confusion. "Cole Bridges, yeah, that's me." Cole nods, feeling weirdly exposed.
"Should've started with that. Lula said you'd be here yesterday, we thought maybe you'd found someplace else." She turns to walk back up the steps, leaving Cole standing with his mouth half-open. She leans her forearms against the porch railing. "Your room is upstairs in the west hall. Take a left at the top of the staircase, you're in the last room on the right."