Page 5 of Sun and Stone (Elementally Yours #5)

5. The Bright Side

After coffee, Fynn offers me a lesson in life after magic, if I’m up for it. Trying anything once isn't my motto—sounds like a recipe for sexually transmitted diseases—but I'm up for spending more time with him, so I tell him to lead the way.

We don’t end up going far. Two doors down is a quiet little coffee shop.

I wonder why we didn't just grab a drink here, but he just shakes his head and ushers me over to a secluded table in the corner. He heads to the counter while I sit down.

My eyes sweep over the cozy space. Large windows let in warm golden light, and the cushioned window seats look inviting, draped in soft blankets. Bookshelves line the walls, filled with volumes I can't wait to browse later. Maybe they have some mysteries on sale. For me, TV shows are best salacious and shallow, and books are best serious and gritty with a mystery to solve.

He soon returns with two desserts, a vanilla walnut scone and a decadent red velvet cupcake. His mouth practically waters as he looks at the cupcake, but he's letting me take the first taste. What a gentleman.

Fynn grins excitedly, gesturing toward them. "Go on, try them!"

I break off a small piece of the scone and hum in approval at the buttery, nutty flavors.

He watches me intently. "Well? What do you think?"

"It's good." When he just keeps staring, I try to provide more feedback, like I'm a judge on a cooking show. "Nice and crumbly, with a good balance of sweetness and nuttiness."

"And what do you think about the ambiance in here?" he wonders next.

"Is there going to be a test later?"

"Humor me."

I do my best, answering the many questions he asks about the food and the surroundings. The cozy place charms me, even if it's practically dead compared to the packed crepe restaurant two doors down.

"There's a reason we're here," he announces.

"To indulge your sweet tooth?" I guess.

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, I promised you a lesson. I'd like to share my magical journey with you, and how it led me here."

Oh. That’s far more enticing than the desserts on the table.

“When I was a kid, I loved art and computers,” Fynn begins. “It was a happy day when discovering I could combine my passions and learn graphic design. But my other interest was harder to incorporate.”

“Magic,” I say.

He nods. “Magic won. It became my focus, but I was lucky enough to turn graphic design into a part-time job. The income supported me while I attended school for as long as I needed to.”

Good for him. It wasn’t always easy to make ends meet when learning magic was your full-time job. I knew that firsthand. Since some of us are enrolled in higher education classes for a few decades, colleges and universities don't charge magical students as much tuition, but a couple decades worth of schooling still adds up.

“I always thought of myself as one of those well-rounded casters,” he continues dryly. “Sure, I was 44 with no sunbrand, but I wasn’t doing too bad for myself. I had a committed partner, a steady part-time income, and plenty of time to practice magic too. I thought I balanced magic and life well, and my brand was just around the corner.”

“Sensing things are about to take a turn,” I say.

“Yeah. Then I entered The Danger Zone and total panic set in.” He laughs, though it’s clear he wasn’t laughing back then. This is one of the final stages before the end of the road, and it could be the last time someone uses magic as part of their everyday life. “I feared aging out and devoted myself to the sun, focused entirely on getting the brand.”

“That’s what you’re supposed to do, right? Do everything you can in the time you have left.”

“Maybe,” he says, but his face twists and he shakes his head. “But how I did it wasn’t really healthy or sustainable. Up with the sun, still studying when it went down. I lost sight of everything else.” I can see the pain on his face as he remembers. “And it was grueling, all fueled by the fear of missing out, not the joy of magic. None of the warmth and light that drew me to the sun element in the first place.”

I can see myself a little too much in his description, but what other option is there? “After you put so much money and time and energy into branding, after trying for decades, you could hardly give up. This was your last chance, right? Of course magic took priority for a while.”

“That’s the thing. Magic always took priority. Sure, I tried to live a balanced life, but at the end of the day, magic had always come first. I put other things off, I pretended that I had it all together but running out of time showed me my priorities and they weren’t pretty.” He sighs, picking at the last of the scone. “My ex tried to support me and be patient for a while, then he tried to get through to me and make me see what I was doing, but I didn’t stop. Then he left me."

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a wakeup call. I realized I was about to be alone and without magic. All my efforts led nowhere, and my magic was weaker than ever. I could barely cast simple spells in broad daylight and was running out of time.” He looks up, the hurt on his face fading away. “I discovered I was more curious about what I’d been missing out on than about branding. So, I started living and making up for lost time.”

It’s heavy stuff, but I’m grateful he trusts me enough to share it. I decide he deserves a treat after sharing all that with me. "Here, have the cupcake."

Fynn takes a healthy bite and moans softly in satisfaction. The tension in his shoulders dissolves as his sweet tooth takes over. Not sharing his sweet tooth, I don't really get what the fuss is about, but I don't hate the view.

He pushes the plate to me, but I shake my head and pass. "Never been a huge fan of cream cheese frosting."

"Your loss." Fynn helps himself to an extra bite of the frosting. "Anyway, I didn't just bring you here because of my sweet tooth. This is my job."

"Huh? I thought you were a graphic designer."

"After giving up on magic, I wasn't sure what to do next. I spent a lot of time just exploring the neighborhood and city around me. Spent a lot of time in places like this, talking to people. I learned I have a fondness for desserts, but I also found purpose in places like this. One of the bakery owners I met needed help with their website design and then they referred me to someone else and things kind of took off from there."

Which is what brought us here today.

"I don't just sit behind a computer anymore," he explains. "I still do graphic design work for my bakery and coffee shop clients, but now I also manage social media campaigns for a number of places like this. This is what I moved here for. I get a lot of projects like this where I need to be here in person and see where the bakery or coffee shop is struggling, so I can help them turn it around."

At that moment, a young guy wearing an apron approaches our table and delivers a piping hot fruit tart, fresh out of the oven.

"Wow, you must hate your job," I tease.

“It’s not all free desserts, but I do love it. The owner of this particular coffee shop loves baking and we're trying to find some signature desserts to focus on.”

Fynn fills me in, talking about what he’s doing with the owner of this shop and what he’s been up to today—what we’ve been up to. First, checking out the crepe restaurant and its success with customers then coming here to sample desserts so he can start rebranding the place and making it more popular. I’m tempted to ask for a commission, but I’ve liked being along for the ride.

Not only did he share the end of his magical career and what came next, he also showed me his life now in action. Not a hint of magic and yet he still seems content and fulfilled.

The only thing missing in this little lesson is how I can do the same thing. Then again, Fynn can’t tell me that. I’ll have to figure out that part myself.

I'm no baker myself, but I suspect one key ingredient in my life after magic could be the man with me.

I take a generous bite of the fruit tart. A burst of bright, juicy flavor explodes across my taste buds, the perfect balance of sweet and tart. "Oh, I like this one."

"Yeah?"

"Maybe it's not what you're looking for, but I don't need anything fancy in a dessert. There's fruit, there's pastry, it tastes good. I'm sold."

"Figured you weren't a simple life kinda guy."

I quirk an eyebrow at him. "Really?"

"Your scarf is so loud they can hear it two blocks over," he says with attitude. It's very attractive even though he's making a dig at my style.

I glance down at the vibrant, patterned fabric draped around my neck, a rueful laugh escaping me. "Okay, you're right. I'm fancy. My palette isn't."

"Good to know."

I can't help the soft smile that tugs at my lips as I look at Fynn. "Thanks for sharing."

"You're welcome. I hope I can help in some way. At least show you it's possible to rebuild."

"I meant thanks for sharing the treats." I watch him with mock concern. "That must have been tough."

Fynn puts a hand on his heart and nods gravely. "It was touch and go there, but you're going through a hard time. Thank you for appreciating my noble sacrifice."

When our eyes meet, we can't keep the act going and we laugh together.

"Really though, thanks for everything." I reach across the table, my fingers brushing against his.

Fynn's hand turns, lacing our fingers together, and we meet each other halfway as we both lean in. His lips press against mine in a sweet, slow kiss. I sigh against his mouth and melt into it, savoring the warmth and comfort of his touch. Swear he still runs hotter than the average human, like there's still a bit of sun magic in him.

When we finally part, he wipes his mouth, his face a tad flushed. "Believe me, spending time with you is no hardship." His hand squeezes mine reassuringly. "And hey, if you're nervous about increased monitoring, we could even go into testing together."

I blink in surprise. "Oh, no. You've done enough. You don't have to take me there and babysit me."

Fynn waves a dismissive hand. "More of a two birds, one stone thing. I'm about due for a follow-up anyway."

"A follow-up? Wait, aren't your powers bound?"

"No. I didn't hit my limit because I stopped using magic. Well, every now and then, I make an exception."

Fynn directs his attention to a sickly plant near the window. He pulls out his keys, revealing a small sun-shaped charm. That must be his token.

The sunlight streaming through the glass seems to flare, growing brighter and more intense as he concentrates. I can almost feel it pulsing with energy. Slowly, the light converges on the plant, enveloping it in a warm, golden glow.

Before my eyes, the plant begins to transform. The wilted, discolored leaves start to unfurl, their edges turning a vibrant green. The stems straighten, standing tall and healthy as they drink in the sunlight.

The magic trick earlier should have been a dead giveaway he still had his powers. Guess it was real magic after all. Gosh, how long has it been since I cracked open a good mystery novel? My skills are clearly waning.

In my defense, it was a pretty reasonable assumption that Fynn had lost his magic. After all, his lifestyle implies he's moved on. Fynn’s been telling about the end of his magical journey, how he got over magic and found a new life. None of that implies he still has his powers.

Ah! Without warning, the radar in my pocket heats up and I pull it out. An odd sputtering sound comes from the device, and I watch in horror as the screen goes haywire, lights flashing erratically.

"What the…" Before I can even finish the thought, the radar lets out a loud pop and suddenly explodes in my hand. I yelp in surprise, dropping the rapidly heating device on the table. It smokes and melts as the circuitry inside totally combusts.

Fynn's eyes widen in alarm. "What do you have there and why is it dying?"

"Oh, it's a handheld radar that I've been trying to enchant. Guess it didn't work."

I'm not even sure why I hide the truth. Maybe because I'm still processing what I just saw. Fynn excuses himself to go talk to the owner.

What the hell is going on? The radar is definitely reacting to Fynn, just like it must have been earlier, but it doesn't make any sense. Fynn said he had weak powers, but his magic was so strong it broke the radar. What’s going on?

Being a detective isn't required to smell a mystery brewing here.