Chapter 9

The walk to the cafeteria was a welcome change from the tension-filled classroom. Mark fell into step beside Ria, enjoying the easy silence that settled between them. The awkwardness had faded, replaced by a comfortable ... curiosity.

The place was buzzing with the usual lunchtime chaos - students huddled in groups, the clatter of trays, the aroma of greasy food filling the air. They took a table by the window in a relatively quiet corner.

“So, what will you have?”

Her eyes flickered to his shoulder. “Why don’t I get it? You stay here and rest that shoulder.”

“It’s fine, really. I—”

“Don’t argue,” she said, a smile on her lips. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Try not to get into any more trouble while I’m gone.”

Mark chuckled leaning back, bracing his weight against the wobbly plastic chair, as Ria vanished into the throng of students clustering near the cafeteria counter. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple. He swiped it away, wincing as the motion pulled at the bandage on his shoulder, the lingering cold a sharp reminder that he wasn’t quite as unscathed as he’d tried to pretend.

Okay, now what? Mark had no idea. The carefully constructed arguments, the sincere apologies he’d rehearsed ... they’d all vanished the moment those eyes had settled on him back in that empty classroom.

He was officially winging it, and his wings felt about as reliable as a pair of tattered, smoke-stained curtains flapping in the breeze.

Relax, Mark ... just be normal. It’s a date, he thought, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Except normal was not getting supernaturally bound after the first encounter, he thought, a wave of frustration mixing with the lingering excitement that thrummed beneath his skin whenever he thought about—

No. No more of that.

The cafeteria buzzed around him—a chaotic mix of clinking trays, shouted greetings, and chairs screeching across the floor. A girl at the next table, her laptop open to some super colorful spreadsheet, kept glancing at him with a look that was equal parts flattering and nerve-wracking.

A few minutes later, Ria returned, balancing a tray laden with food - a burger, fries, a salad (which Mark suspected was more for show than anything else), and two large sodas.

“Here you go,” she said, placing the tray on the table.

“Thanks.”

The smell of it— salty, greasy, perfect— chased away the last traces of adrenaline, replaced by a more familiar kind of hunger.

He devoured half of it before he even registered that Ria was watching him, amusement dancing in her eyes. “Whoa, slow down. You’ll choke.”

“Starving.” He mumbled through a mouthful of burger, realizing he hadn’t actually eaten anything since the breakfast he’d scarfed down before heading out for library.

They ate in silence for a while, the only sounds the clinking of forks and the murmur of conversation around them. He watched as Ria took a bite of her burger, letting out a satisfied hum. He couldn’t help but smile. At least someone’s enjoying this.

“So,” he began, hoping to break the ice, “are you from around here?”

“Born and raised, for the most part. What about you?”

“Well, like I said, I moved around a lot. But I was originally from Texas.”

“The land of cowboys, huh?”

“Don’t believe the hype,” he grinned. “More like the land of traffic jams and overpriced barbecue.”

“Ah, so you’re not a cowboy then?”

Mark played along with an exaggerated drawl and casual lean back in his chair. “Y’all got a problem with them cowpokes, lil’ lady?”

Ria’s laughter burst out like music, and Mark couldn’t help but join in. Damn, that’s infectious, he thought, grinning ear to ear.

“I’ll take that as a no, then?” She asked. “Did you ever ride a horse?”

“Nope, closest I got was a mechanical bull at a county fair. Ended badly.”

“I bet it did,” she chuckled. “I can just picture it.”

“Hey! I almost lasted eight seconds.”

“Almost,” she teased.

“So, Roanoke,” Mark said, changing the subject. “What’s it like growing up here?”

The conversation flowed easily from there— favorite movies, embarrassing first day college memories, their mutual disdain for organic chemistry. She was easy to talk to— funny, smart ... he’d forgotten how good it felt to simply relax, to let a conversation unfold without that constant pressure of knowing. Or not knowing.

“So,” he asked, as they were finishing their fries. “what are you studying?”

“Computer graphics. Hoping to get into animation or game design.”

“That’s cool.”

Bonded or not, she is fun, he thought, his heart pounding a little faster with each shared laugh.

He pushed those thoughts aside, focusing on getting to know her. He was curious about everything - her life, her likes, what made her tick. He still had no clue about this whole ‘weird mystical connection’ thing, and as comfortable as he felt with Ria, he couldn’t quite gauge her true feelings about all that has happened between them. For now, he was content to enjoy her company.

An hour slipped by—filled with laughter, shared glances, comfortable silences—and as they walked out of the cafeteria into the warm sunshine, he found himself reluctant to let it end.

“That was ... surprisingly fun.”

“Surprisingly?” Ria teased, bumping him playfully with her shoulder.

“Okay, okay, it was lot of fun,” he conceded, grinning. “You’re pretty great company.”

A silence settled between them then, comfortable this time. Easy. Until—

“Well...” She stopped at the fork in the path. “I’ve got a class in this building.”

“Yeah, me too,” he said, nodding across the quad. “Over there.”

“I had a pretty good time, Mark.” Ria admitted, the words hesitant, as if they’d taken her by surprise.

“Me too,” he replied. “Can I get your number? You know, for ... future burger dates?”

Ria smiled and pulled out her phone. “Sure.”

They exchanged numbers.

“See you around, Mark,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

“Definitely,” he replied as watched her vanish into the flow of students— that cascade of chestnut brown hair the last thing he saw.

He let out a long breath, feeling a sense of ease-ness settle over him. There were still so many questions left unanswered, so many hazy details surrounding the circumstances that had thrown them together. They hadn’t really talked about the bond, their future, or any of the heavy stuff that weighed on his mind.

But at the very least, he’d managed to rekindle whatever fragile buds of connection had blossomed between them. It was a start, a small step in the right direction, and for now, that was enough.

Baby steps, he thought, smiling to himself.

After three weeks...

Three weeks, It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d stood in that empty classroom, awkwardly asking Ria out for a burger. Now, as he sat across from Lida at their small kitchen table, he couldn’t wipe the goofy grin off his face.

She’s amazing.

They had been on several dates – movies, walks in the park, late-night study sessions that somehow always ended with lingering touches and amazing conversations. It had all happened so fast, but it felt so right.

He had been prepared for resistance, for awkwardness, for the constant fear that their connection was solely based on some supernatural connection. But Ria had surprised him. She was open, playful, and surprisingly patient with his doubts. She never pushed, never made him feel pressured. They were taking things at his pace, building a connection that felt genuine.

It’s like someone took everything I ever wanted in a girl and rolled it into one perfect package.

Focus, Mark. He shoved those thoughts aside, glancing at his aunt.

Lida never truly relaxed— not since ... well, not since ever, as far as he could remember. But she had been surprisingly supportive of his relationship with Ria, her usual lectures on ‘discretion’ tempered with genuine encouragement—and for that, he was ... grateful

“Lida, what do you know about ... covens?”

“Covens?” She raised an eyebrow, her gaze sharp. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Just curious,” he shrugged. “Ria mentioned she’s part of one, and I was just ... wondering.”

“Is that so?” She took a sip of her tea, her expression thoughtful. “Did she mention the name of her coven?”

“I think she said...” Mark searched his memory of those late-night conversations. “Crescent?”

“Crescent?” Lida’s eyes widened slightly. “They’re an old one.” She paused, a smile touching her lips. “Coven. Haven’t heard anybody say that in a long time.”

“What do you mean?”

“Nobody really uses the term ‘coven’ anymore. These days, they call themselves associations. More modern, I suppose. Remember what I told you about territories?”

Mark vaguely recalled their conversations about the divisions within the supernatural world, the territories controlled by powerful groups. “Yeah, kind of.”

“Well,” she said, leaning back in her chair, “For ages, people with similar abilities - mages, shifters, witches - started forming groups. They wanted to learn from each other, to grow stronger, to protect themselves.”

“Like a club?”

“More or less,” she continued. “In the early days, those with similar affinities - pyromancers with pyromancers, oracles with oracles, and so on - began banding together into tight-knit cells. All in pursuit of greater strength, greater knowledge, and accelerating their evolution.”

“So it was like ... safety in numbers?” He said. “Honing their crafts alongside others like them?”

“Precisely.” A faint, rueful smile ghosted across her lips. “They experimented, shared knowledge, developed new techniques. It was all passed down through generations, codified into rituals and traditions. Eventually, these groups became more structured, more powerful. They claimed territories, established hierarchies. That’s how the modern associations were formed.”

“And Crescent is one of these ... associations?”

“Yes. They are one of the oldest coalition still in existence. Their origins date back over a millennium, to a fraternity of cryomancers who first compiled their collective knowledge and techniques for harnessing the frozen element.”She arched one eloquent eyebrow meaningfully. “They are very prestigious, not to mention powerful, association of mages - assuming they still adhere to the old tenets.”

“So they’re pretty famous?”

“You could say that,” Lida said. “They’re a large organization, with a lot of influence. Of course, with that kind of power ... comes a lot of internal maneuvering and divisions, factions vying for control. It’s never simple.”

Mark thought back to something Ria had mentioned casually during one of their dates - how one of her responsibilities was to assist the head of her coven.

“What does it mean to be the head of one of these ... associations?”

“A tremendous responsibility, Mark,” she explained. “They’re not just responsible for training of next generations. They handle internal disputes, negotiate with other associations, and maintain the secrecy of this side of world. It’s a delicate balancing act. Such an individual would wield a great deal of authority and influence over territory, resources - almost feudalistic levels of power within their sphere.”

“Sounds stressful.”

“It is,” she agreed. Then, those eyes— always watchful, now intense— fixed on him. “Why the sudden fascination with all this?”

“Just curious,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. “Ria mentioned she’s pretty high up in her group, and I was just ... wondering.”

He hoped Lida bought his explanation. The truth was, the more he learned about Ria’s world, the more he realized how little he knew. And the more he realized how much he wanted to learn.