How Very Fishy?

Eric Aldaman stepped off the train, the metallic hum behind him fading as he moved toward home. The sun had not yet surrendered to the night, but its rays were softening, casting long shadows that clung to the buildings. The walk from the station to his apartment was short, yet his thoughts made the distance feel longer, denser.

He had been replaying the decisions that led him to this point, particularly the reckless choice of joining the executive branch of the Mystic Order. With that one decision, he had opened the floodgates to a host of unfamiliar troubles.

First, there was Xander.

What even was Xander?

Eric couldn't decide. He was the kind of existence one instinctively avoided, unnerving, unreadable, and utterly wrong in a way that made the hairs on Eric's neck stand at attention. He still couldn't find a category to neatly place him in.

And then came the other enigma, Joseph.