Enchanted - Wizards and Wanderers

Chapter 2

The weather was cloudy.

Not that he minded, he loved rain, drops, and the peace that came with it. And he loved looking out the window and watching the raindrops falling to the bottom and rooting for one as if it were a race. This had been his only entertainment in the days when he was bed-ridden with colds when he was a child.

He'd always favored an overcast night sky over a sunny day.

What an unhappy coincidence it was, that this was today's weather.

Aradia was terribly quiet today. Nobody was out on the streets, given the rain that was pouring down from the black clouds that rose above the city.
He alone walked in the rain, drenching wet by now.

The young man huffed softly. He was going to get sick again, no doubt about that.
A chill breeze crashed persistently against his chest and lashed his face. He blinked repeatedly when he felt a tiny piece of a leaf that must have detached from the rest colliding with his eyeball, and it took him about two minutes to finally manage to wipe it away.

Even though it was July, the temperatures had been dropping for a week now, bringing the kind of chill that one might think belongs to autumn.
That was nothing new; temps always tended to plummet drastically after early July, and then they would fall until autumn... and that was generally when sneezing, high temperatures, and bedridden days would open the floodgates for him.

He placed his hands in the pockets of his jacket, under the dark green cloak he wore.

He braced himself from the biting wind that walked on the city's stone tiles, his high heels resounding distinctly.
Why was she wearing heels?

He did not remember putting them on. He found himself outside the house, and knowing it was getting late he told himself he didn't have time to go back inside and change.

He coughed slightly, he was still recovering from a cold that had managed to keep him bedridden for a week, while knocking on a sturdy-looking door.

It contained the image of what appeared to be a creature from a myth. Nobody answered it.

"Wrong knock code." A loud, annoying voice answered.

"Oh, for crying out-" growled the young man, raising his eyes in annoyance. "It's me, darn it!"

"'No code, no entry. You know the rules."

Still the other stared insistently at the door. " Why are you ALWAYS so bloody demanding?"

"Rules. Code?"

"You've known me for seventeen years!"

"Code?"

The young man pressed his lips together in a thin, firm line and rhythmically he let his knuckles clash against the door, striking the correct sound coordination that was the code.

"Correct."

" Brilliant. Awesome. Now let me in, I'm freezing my hands off."

As the door opened with a slow but loud sound, the youth stepped back, staring at it irritably. " It's always the same with you. You just couldn't overlook it, now could you?"