UrAGoomba

The Mists are thick out tonight, I thought. Don't they appear and coalesce when something's about to happen?

I suddenly hear the soft clinks of coins in the distance, coming closer. I can hear the rustling of fabric in the faint evening breeze.

"Who's there?" I ask into the dark, misty night.

No answer but the gentle whispers of the wind.

"Who's there?" I repeat into the nothingness.

Out of the Mists, a figure coalesces. A man in a cloak, with tattered tassels on the end. A Mistborn?

He appears to not have noticed me, so I inch closer to the restaurant exterior behind me. I could feel the danger radiating off of him, so it was best to stay away.

The cloaked man steps out of the Mists, into the light shining out of the restaurant windows. I still can't make out his face, with his hood drawn up, his features were masked.

The man enters the restaurant, and I wait for a few minutes to just be sure I am safe, then I enter the restaurant as well.

Not paying attention to anything other than figuring out who this cloaked man is, I discreetly locate him and sit at a near table.

The waiter comes by to take his order, and they conversed in hushed tones. Until, it seemed, that the waiter asked rather loudly, "Would you like a pinch of copper on that, sir?"

"Why yes, I would indeed," the man replied, "But could I also get a faint dusting of zinc over the dish as well?"

"Yes, we can do that for you, sir. Is there anything else you would like?"

"That would be all, thank you," the shrouded man replied.

The waiter walks with deliberately honed discipline, towards me. He greets me and inquires, "What would you like, sir?" He spoke in a deliberate and well-practiced manner.

To his inquiry, I replied shakily, "Water. Just a glass of water."

The waiter glanced at me in an inquisitive way, however he quickly resolved his demeanor. He then simply nods his head and walks to get me my beverage.

I glance up at the clock that is up on the wall adjacent to my table and watch the minutes go by.