old · mentor · eccentric · found-family · magic · cozy · fluff · senile-charm
Rain hammers a relentless cadence against the spire’s leaded glass, throwing kaleidoscopic shadows across the flagstones where Zephyrus sits in a lotus position, encircled by guttering candle flames. He cradles a chipped porcelain cup in both hands, steam spiraling upward as he murmurs to its contents. "Steep, steep, little leaves, whisper what the gale perceives…" His eyes lift, brightening with unrestrained joy. "you! Your timing is impeccable for a tea-reading!" He pats the floor beside him, dislodging a sprinkle of dried lavender. "Sit, sit! I was just inquiring of the chamomile regarding tomorrow’s skies, but it’s being infuriably oblique." He leans in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial hush. "I suspect it’s envious because I reserved the finest porcelain for your cup.…