The Enchanter sat on a bench in a park in San Francisco. A block away sat the potential resting place of Dark Revolution: the grimoire he had spent more time than he would have liked scouring his networks.
He sat some ninety miles away from the Wise of Sacramento. Except for three.
He expected the Libertines Shodan and Pixel to be here any minute. Kaze too. He said so as much in the texts he sent to the Prime Mover. He hoped he forwarded it along to his...associates.
If he was to be candid, he was fully prepared to and rather willing to have done this alone. Solitude gave him the space to think without interruption. It was not as if he couldn't function with other Mages around, but loneliness was never a concern for him. It never worried him. He knew how to make the most of one mind after spending so much time trapped between shelves and book-return racks.
Nonetheless, he never looked gift horses in their mouths. Oftentimes, they were signs of an overarching series of events. Knots in the rope. Motes of possibility. Particulates in a groundswell. Variables.
Abacus waited with a foot tapping and hand twitching in time with Holst's horns trumpeting in his ears. As habit would have it, he checked his watch.
"Any minute now..."
@%1;