Inside, the glass display cases shimred with golden pastries, crusted buns, honey drizzled rolls, and a rack of dark spiced muffins along with a dozen other pastries that sent steam curling against the windowpanes.
Damien pushed open the door.
A warm wave of air wrapped around them instantly—soft, fragrant, welcoming.
Lyone stepped in behind him, eyes wide.
The woman behind the counter greeted them with a cheerful, "Welco, loves."
Lyone whispered, "This place slls like heaven."
"No," Damien said, glancing at the nearest tray of warm brioche. "I don't think Heaven slls this good."
They stepped into the bakery, it's warmth wrapping around them like a blanket.
Behind the wooden counter stood a plump woman with chestnut curls wrapped into a loose bun.
Her apron was dusted with flour, and her cheeks were rosy with heat from the ovens. A warm, practiced smile spread across her face as she saw them enter.
"Well now," she said cheerfully, "what can I get you two? We've got fresh honey rolls, cinnamon knots, and buttercrust loaves straight from the oven."
Damien stepped forward, voice calm. "Two cinnamon knots. One black coffee. One cup of fruit tea."
The woman nodded, hands already moving. "And for the boy?"
Lyone hesitated, scanning the rows of golden pastries, his eyes practically sparkling. "Um… sa, please. But—can I also get one of those round ones with the sugar on top?"
"The glazed honeydrop? Good choice." She winked at him. "That one's my favorite too."
She turned to prepare their tray, humming a tune under her breath as she moved with ease between trays and kettles.
Damien walked to the corner table without a word, choosing a seat near the window. Lyone followed, sliding into the seat across from him, still craning his neck to watch the counter.
"She's… nice," he muttered.
Damien gave a quiet grunt in agreent, watching people move outside the fogged window.
A few minutes later, the bell over the counter chid.
The woman approached their table, balancing a wooden tray. She placed the pastries down in front of them, then set the drinks beside them.
"There we go. Careful—the rolls are still warm."
"Thank you," Lyone said quickly, eyes already locked on the honeydrop.
"Enjoy, loves," the woman said, then turned and returned to her counter, humming once more.
Damien picked up his coffee without a word. Lyone, anwhile, took one bite of the roll and nearly lted into his seat.
"Okay," he mumbled through a mouthful, "this might be the best thing I've ever eaten."
Damien simply took a sip of his drink, eyes watching the steam rise from the cup. "Told you the place slled right."
The last bite of pastry disappeared into Lyone's mouth, his fingers dusted with sugar and cinnamon. He let out a content sigh, cheeks slightly puffed, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction.
Damien, seated across from him, finished his coffee in one smooth sip, eyes lazily scanning the quiet bustle of the shop.
"Done?" he asked.
Lyone nodded vigorously, mouth still full. "Mmhm."
Damien stood, sliding a single gold coin onto the table.
The woman behind the counter glanced over, blinking as she saw the coin. "Ah—sir, that's a bit—"
"Keep the change," Damien said without looking back.
He turned, cloak shifting behind him, and headed for the door.
Lyone scrambled to follow.
Once outside, the morning light had shifted, climbing higher and warr. The city's streets had fully awakened—families shopping, travelers laughing, guards chatting idly at corners.
Damien didn't rush.
Instead, he paused just outside the bakery, glancing back at Lyone. "You want anything before we leave?"
Lyone shook his head imdiately, wiping the last crumbs off his lips. "No. All I want is answers."
Damien raised an eyebrow. "You rember I said that happens *after* we're sowhere safe, right?"
"I know," Lyone replied. "I'm just making sure you rember."
Damien gave a faint smirk. "Cute."
With that, he turned and began walking.
Lyone fell in step beside him, feet lighter than before.
They passed through the sa plaza Damien had walked alone that morning. But this ti, the city looked different through Lyone's eyes—less foreign, more full of questions and wonder.
They moved steadily toward the west gate, weaving between carts and market stalls until the crowds thinned and the stone roads gave way to packed earth and waving grass.
And once they were far from eyes and ears—
"Summon Skylar," Damien said quietly.
A blue portal opened up in front of them and then the Shadowfang Wyvern flew out of it in silence, its dark wings folding as it landed in a crouch just ahead.
Lyone's eyes lit up, still wide even though he'd seen it before.
"I'll never get used to how he just appears," the boy whispered.
"He doesn't like being watched," Damien replied, already climbing into the saddle. "He's picky like that."
Lyone scrambled up after him, gripping the back of the saddle and leaning forward as Skylar gave a low growl of acknowledgnt. Then—wings unfurled.
And they were airborne.
The town shrank beneath them within seconds. Fields rolled like painted green waves. Trees blurred into a forest line below.
They soared west.
Hours passed with nothing but the rush of wind and the occasional quiet hum of Skylar's wingbeats. The sky overhead was clear, scattered with slow-moving clouds.
They passed above winding rivers, outcroppings of black rock, and clusters of old ruins nearly consud by ivy. Forests spread beneath them in patches, like brush strokes of deep green on the land.
Sotis they passed over movent—small mana beasts shifting in the trees. Nothing threatening, but Damien kept watch all the sa.
Lyone, however, was too busy pointing.
"What's that?"
"Sandback Stalker," Damien replied, not bothering to glance.
"And that?"
"Wind-bell Hare."
"It's glowing! Wait—*that one's blue*! What's it called?"
"That's a Dustfin. It spits ash. Don't touch it."
Lyone leaned farther over the side of the saddle to get a better look.
Damien pulled him back by the collar.
"Hey!"
"You fall, I don't catch you," Damien said coolly. "Skylar doesn't do air rescues."
"Noted," Lyone muttered, gripping tighter. "Still... this is insane."
He leaned back, head tilted toward the sky. "My whole world was five fields and a riverbend. I didn't know half of this stuff existed."
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