-Jane Austen

The atmosphere of the Teajuvenation shop was calm, in a way that the rest of the marketplace couldn't compete with. There were no items in there that could be used as a weapon, and no items to boost one's self or to prepare for a mission - not unless you knew the password to give to the staff for their "special" brews, which few enough did. That was why Layla came here so often when she wasn't on assignment. Few of the mercenaries came here, almost none of the less scrupulous organizations, and no one stopped by because they were preparing to throw themselves into merciless combat.

Instead the atmosphere was that of relaxation and enjoyment. The prices here were reasonable, but high enough to keep away the cheapskates and riff-raff. Because of the clientele and that fact, almost every person present in that building was there because they truly loved the products being served or because they appreciated the atmosphere. Layla had spent dozens of hours at this place, sometimes to do schoolwork during her student days, other times to simply relax, and occasionally to people-watch. It was by far her favorite store, and perhaps her favorite place of all.

Which was why it was so aggravating that, with each passing moment, the urge to sprint away from it grew stronger.

It was an infuriating feeling - so faint at first she wasn't even sure it was there. Nothing frightened her in that place, nothing untoward had happened to her, and she didn't feel uncomfortable there. Rather, it was like something else was calling to her. Some other place or thing, drawing her away from the teashop with siren calls. The idea was ludicrous, of course - she had nowhere else she would rather be for the next hour. Even then she would only leave for the comfort of Tessa's warmth, and likely return the next day if she found herself free. The fragrances of the teashop called to her… but now, for the first time ever, something else seemed to be calling even more strongly.

And it was only growing more powerful by the second.

Her serenity dashed entirely, Layla sat on her stool, gazing at the screen of her school laptop to present a semblance of doing something normal. Mentally, though, as her foot tapped more and more erratically against the stool's base, she was focusing on the feeling. Layla reached out with her mind, searching the auras around herself for the source of that siren call, that strangely alluring presence that had her fighting back the urge to lick her lips.

It took minutes - painful, lengthy minutes - but eventually Layla had something tangible to place the feeling to. Too far out to sense properly, still over a half-mile away, but Layla could feel it wavering like a candle's flame as it steadily approached. The strange sensation flowed and weaved between the indistinct auras of countless others, gaining more shape and form as it approached. The auras Layla was familiar with, some of the most frequent visitors to the marketplace, acted as a sort of frame, allowing Layla to pinpoint them and triangulate the phenomena's position.

Nearly four blocks out, the source came into focus. It was a young man, Layla could read that in the aura's flickering and the way it reacted to those around her. Layla had learned to tell a great deal about someone from their aura… but she had no idea how to read what she was feeling. The aura emanating from this person was not extravagantly powerful, it simply… stood out above all else, even those auras nearby that should've drowned it. And it felt like heaven to let herself just linger on its taste.

At first, she could ignore it. It was nothing compared to what she had felt before. But the vague tickle continued at the back of her mind, like the scent of freshly baked cookies in the distance, or the wafting odor of Spring's first blossoms, carried on a special breeze just for her. No, Layla would have been able to ignore that. It was more like a bell that was tolling only her name, over and over until all she could hear were its dulcet tones.

But that sounded crazy… didn't it?

It was like a perfect melody. Perhaps it wasn't sung for her. Perhaps she was never even meant to hear it. But now, as she stood there and tuned every sense in her body to it, she couldn't possibly tune it out. The rhythm was too sweet, the beat in her ears matched too closely the pulse of her heart, and every gentle repeat of the feeling in her mind echoed a frequency deep within her soul.

The aura was in clear focus now; she could almost feel it wrapping around her. The wisps of its farthest reaches touched against her, brushed aside her fears and doubts and filled her mind with a certainty that she had found something long lost to her, yet never missed. And it was only growing closer by the second, now nearly upon her, as something swept across Layla's body.

The breeze drifted in as the door to Teajuvenation opened wide and an uncertain but interested face popped in. All of Layla's senses went wild as she focused on the young man strolling in with wonder in his eyes. Shortly behind him strolled a buxom blonde, her eyes alight with a joy Layla found mirroring her own, unknowingly for entirely different reasons.

Layla had been so lost in thought that she hadn't even realized the man was coming not only in her direction but almost directly toward her. Now she was face to face with the younger man as he cast his gaze in all directions; she only half-heartedly tore her eyes away from his as he glanced directly at her, cursing the sudden jitters in her fingers and the warmth engulfing her body at his gaze.

For a moment, she wondered if it was her chest fluttering or her very soul. Both seemed like such silly ideas. She had only just met this man; how could he possibly cause such an intimate response? Yet her body urged her onward, until even Layla could no longer stand it. As Layla continued to gaze at the man evoking these strange feelings, while he plied his companion with cup after cup of tea, her fidgeting grew more restless. As she shifted her legs, a jostling of her undergarments made her suddenly aware of how unbelievably wet she had become in just a matter of minutes.

Layla stood then, making for the door in an attempt to free herself of this strange and sensual torment. The sanctity of her private place had been violated, and by his mannerisms the man did not even understand what it was he had done to her. Layla would come back later - she'd never seen the man before, never felt such an… exquisite aura before. Surely he was merely a passing mage, travelling through en route to some distant home. She would return tomorrow, and she would never-

Layla paused at the doorway, hesitating suddenly. She would never feel that aura again. The thought shouldn't have bothered her, it should have been a relief, but every fiber of Layla's being screamed against the thought. Even her mind was not untouched; she felt a great deal of anxiety at the idea of being without this feeling. Despite her higher-level concern for the effect it was having on both her body and her thoughts, her base instincts screamed at her to return, to approach the source of this feeling so that she could return to it if she wanted to feel it again. If she wanted to feel it closer.

By Gaia, she wanted to feel it closer.

Layla returned to her seat, finding the idea no longer as alarming as it had at first. Her years of training at Firesmith had made her alert to any changes in her mental or emotional state as potential manipulations, and to see such an immediate and undeniable change come over herself caused the still youthful mage no small amount of concern. But the more she embraced those feelings, the more certain she was that there was no manipulation, intentional or otherwise. This man was not casting any spells she could detect, he was exuding no magical effects that could affect those around him, and he wasn't even looking in her direction particularly often. He simply… was. He was every bit as succulently full of desire and sin as Layla could imagine, leaving every carnal emotion that Layla felt vibrating through her most sensitive regions and leaving them wondrously sensitive, begging for attention she could not readily give them in public.

"I have to find out what's so special about him… I need to be prepared for this kind of thing in the future. There could be others like him."

Layla let that thought lie in the air, ignoring the voices telling her there was no other man quite like this one. Instead she stepped off her chair, clenching her abdomen against the throbbing urge that was steadily growing with each moment she spent gazing at the young man. One stride at a time, Layla approached him, her mind slowing time down to a crawl. As she approached it felt like she was thinking for days - weeks - months - trying to find a way to introduce herself.

"Hello. Are you my soulmate?"

"Hi there, I miss you and we've never even met."

"Good afternoon, can you feel the same echo in your soul as I can?"

"Greetings, have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

Nothing she could say, nothing she could express seemed worthy of his presence. Yet all the same she could not stop now that she had started toward him. Even without reaction to her, even without noticing her in any way, he was calling out to her, and her body could do nothing now but to respond.

"…Hello," he eventually said as he lifted his head to her, "…can I help you?"

"By Gaia," Layla half-whimpered, cursing the weakness of her voice as she tried to meet the man's gaze levelly. "If you can't, I have no idea what will."

"I'm sorry?"

"N-no, I'm sorry," Layla stammered out, cursing herself mentally. She had let her guard down for an instant, and the passionate throes of the man's aura overwhelmed her common sense and decent, polite conversation. "What I meant to say was… I came to sate my curiosity. You feel different than the others. I can sense auras, and yours, your aura - I've never felt anything quite like it before, and I was wondering if you could tell me what it was?"

She had already crossed a line that could not be uncrossed. She could see it in the man's eyes, the way he and his blonde friend had gone from relaxed to on guard in a matter of moments. Layla pretended to turn away bashfully only long enough to stare at the blonde woman for a moment, eyeing her weapon and her… figure. Were they a couple? Was the man taken? If he was, what could be done about that? Layla's mind was alight with possibilities before she had even considered that as something she might want.

"Aura? No, sorry, I don't know much about those," the man offered as Layla turned her gaze back to him before her lingering eyes became suspicious. "I know a couple of aura readers but they never mentioned anything about me feeling off."

"By Gaia, they must be frauds. How could they not feel this?"

Now, standing as close as she was, Layla felt a bit as if she were bathing in his aura, and the metaphor was appropriate. Warmth soaked Layla's body both figuratively and, embarrassingly, quite literally. Even not knowing what it was, even not being entirely sure of the source of the strange feeling, Layla was overwhelmed by its existence. The man himself did not help the feelings, his body far from unpleasant to look at. He must have been no older than twenty, youthful exuberance and enticingly taut body structure screaming his youthful… vigor to her baser instincts. Of course no one had ever told him he felt off. He felt perfect.

"Not off, no," Layla breathed, words escaping before thought again. Before she had time to regret them, both of them adjusted their stances. Layla felt a shift in both auras, mana and hostility rising - just enough to cause her own caution and self-preservation to override the rapidly rising tide of desire within her.

"Look, I'm not quite sure what this is about, but I can leave if you want," the man said quickly, already half-standing.

"N-no!"

Layla's plea came out, but she couldn't entirely say anymore whether it was what she really wanted or what her instincts drove her to cry. It was loud enough that a few heads turned in their direction, but this close to her target, Layla couldn't care who watched them. Layla did, however, abruptly realize that she had her arm extended, almost ready to physically halt the man.

"I mean… you can go where you wish, but I don't want to chase you away. I was only curious what could cause such a strange resonance in your aura."

"Sorry, I have no idea what that could be."

Layla believed him. The man showed no signs of lying, if he were even capable of such a thing. He looked too honest, too pure, too perf-

"No, stop that. He's human. He has flaws… probably. And feelings. And you're scaring him away…"

While Layla grappled with her inner turmoil, the man put on a friendlier face and extended a hand to her. Layla's eyes locked onto it as if it were the key to survival.

"Sorry for causing you any disturbance or inconvenience with my aura, but thank you for letting me know. I appreciate you telling me before someone else noticed it."

"No one else has noticed it, that's right. I have time… I have time…"

Layla didn't know what she had time for, didn't know what she wanted anymore. But she had it. Adopting as much calm as she could muster, Layla attempted to appear less **** than she felt.

"Of course. I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable, it is simply something I have not tas-" Phrasing, Layla! "felt before from someone's aura, and I was curious as to its origin. I'll leave you now, since you do not have the answers I was seeking…"

Layla moved to leave the place, her instincts finally allowing her to turn away from the man. But just as her body allowed her a moment of solace, the man gestured to Layla before she had quite stepped away, and a fire of hope ignited in her. She returned to him as if magnetized, latching herself to his table again.

“Er… sorry I can’t really help, but I’ll look into it for both our sakes. By the way, my name is John.”

A generic name. No surname, no location, no organization. But Layla did not need those things. She could find that feeling anywhere - if she allowed herself to become more familiar with it, Layla wondered how far she could feel its warmth from. If she were that lucky, if she were that blessed. Layla couldn't offer him a better way to find her, not without scaring him away again… but with her abilities, that wasn't much of an issue.

"Thank you, John. My name's Layla… and I can't wait to see you again."

Layla allowed herself the assurance, aware of the effect that it would have, but unable to control herself anymore. Layla departed the store slowly, reluctantly. As she strolled through the streets of Springfield's Abyssal marketplace Layla was only narrowly avoiding collision after collision, her eyes forward but mind locked on the man still in the teashop behind her. She continued until she was two blocks away, only just able to see the shop's entrance, and busied herself inspecting merchandise, her mind still elsewhere.

Besides, what was the harm in saying such a small thing to the man? It was true, and they both had to know it. Surely he had felt her desires, felt the need within her, and felt the chemistry in the air. He would understand her curiosity, in time. She would meet the man again. Both her conscious and subconscious agreed on this. There was no longer an alternative. Layla felt something not dissimilar to what she imagined an addict might feel after their initial use.

Layla had gotten her first taste for free. The rest…

Layla cast her eyes to the store as the presence moved. John and his companion exited the shop, glancing around warily. Layla remained entirely out of sight, uncertain of how keen his senses were, and concealed her aura and presence, uncertain of what skills he possessed. Layla's tracking and concealment were nearly unmatched at the Academy, and she refused to scare the man away. Not until she learned more about this feeling, about its origins and its meaning. Of course, if he never knew she was there, she couldn't scare him. It was for both of their benefits, really. She could watch over the man, keep him safe, and as payment for her efforts, she could spend more time in his presence and the majesty of that succulent aura. John, satisfied with his initial glances around the area, began to proceed again through the market.

…Yes indeed, the rest Layla would have to work for.