The Email
July 11, 2019
It began like any other day at the Rothmore household.
Evan had risen early and slipped out to open the café before the sun had fully climbed the sky. Reuben was already deep into his morning ritual, seated cross-legged under his gazebo, incense curling lazily through the air as dew clung to the garden leaves. As for Ryder—he was still lost in his dreams.
By mid-morning, Reuben found himself in his shop, the Mystic Herb, tucked away in the cozy confines of his office between customers. He was sorting through emails with a steaming mug of nettle tea in hand, half-distracted by the ticking of the clock and the scent of dried lavender, when one particular message caught his eye.
It read:
Dear Mr. Reuben Rothmore,
My name is Elora Vyshaan, owner and alchemist of the Mortar & Pestle—a humble shop not so different from your own. A mutual friend of ours, Aurora Aevee, kindly shared your contact information with me. She spoke very fondly of you, mentioning that you were the one who purchased her old property and transformed it into the charming establishment you run today.
She’s followed your journey closely and often praised the care and intention behind your work. I must admit, I’ve kept an eye on your progress myself. As a fellow alchemist, I’ve admired not only your success in cultivating a thriving business, but also your role as caretaker to a rather unique and magical charge.
If you’re open to the idea, I’d love to propose a collaboration of sorts. I’m eager to learn more about your craft firsthand—and about your experience raising such a rare being. Should this interest you, feel free to reply at your convenience. I would be delighted to speak further.
Warm regards,
Elora Vyshaan
Owner & Alchemist, Mortar & Pestle
Reuben’s curiosity piqued.
He had to admit—Mortar & Pestle didn’t ring a bell, and he certainly couldn’t recall the name of the woman he’d bought the property from all those years ago. Still… LeForge. That name nudged something faintly familiar at the back of his mind.
With a small huff, he quickly rose from his chair, went to his lobby, and flipped the sign on the front door to “Closed.” Then, without a second thought, he hurried back to his desk and reread the email again.
“I wonder what kind of collaboration she means,” he murmured, stroking his chin thoughtfully.
What puzzled him more, though, was how Elora knew about Ryder. That wasn’t something he openly shared—at least not outside of certain circles. And especially not with anyone who wasn’t affiliated with the Lab.
Still, something about her tone felt genuine… maybe even familiar.
Reuben hovered over the keyboard for a moment, then clicked Reply and began to type.
Hello Ms. Elora Vyshaan,
Thank you for your message—it certainly caught my attention. I’m always open to discussing the craft, and I’d be glad to hear more about the collaboration you mentioned.
If you’re willing, I’d like to invite you to visit my shop in person. I’d be happy to show you around and talk more face-to-face.
It’s been quite some time since I last spoke with Ms. LeForge, so I’m curious to hear what led you my way. I’m generally available most days, so please feel free to stop by at your convenience.
Looking forward to hearing from you,
Reuben Rothmore
After what felt like hours of rewording and second-guessing, Reuben finally leaned back, satisfied, and hit send. The soft chime of the laptop closing echoed in the quiet room as he exhaled a long breath.
Collaboration wasn’t something he was used to—he’d always worked alone, quietly and carefully, far from the noise of partnerships and shared ventures. This… this was new. And it stirred a strange mix of curiosity and hesitation in his chest.
Still, he couldn’t help but wonder who this Elora Vyshaan really was. The name carried a certain charm, but charm didn’t always mean sincerity.
Worst case, he reasoned, it’s a scam, and would move on as usual.
But part of him hoped—for once—it wasn’t.
