Elwin had wolfed up his beef roast and bread pudding and was getting ready for work. The Marlin would open soon – though it was the middle of the week, so it would be a quiet night. And indeed, it was. Apart from a few customers here and there, thankfully with a paucity of drunkards, the night was terse and uneventful, most leaving after their meals instead of requesting a bed. Only a single haggard but innocent-looking man asked for a room.
“Ya have a place to sleep?”
“Yes, of course. For how many nights?”
“Just ‘un.”
“Sure. That will be fifteen denaros.”
“Can ye do twelve? ‘Tis all I got.”
The haggard man’s hair was frayed and gray, his cheekbones hollow and gaunt. It looked like he had not eaten an adequate meal since yesteryear.
“Yeah, we can do twelve,” said Elwin, feeling sorry for him. He wasn’t about to turn him away just for three denaros, even if he had the full sum in his pocket and was hiding it. Not too many asked for a room anyway – an overwhelming majority dropped by, snapped up a quick supper, then went on their way to the train station to catch the rail out or proceed downtown with the tram. The rooms however did provide extra income, and those staying could be counted to order more than just one dish.
“Do you want anything to eat?”
“Ar’ they on the house?”
“Uh, please allow me a moment,” said Elwin, leaving the counter.
Anna nodded from the kitchen. “I’ll ladle him some chowder and toast from this morning. Just bring them up when you’re ready.”
“Okay!”
Elwin rushed back. The haggard man was there, appraising the surroundings.
“Yes, we’ve got some chowder and toast on the house.”
“Oh thank ye, thank ye! Bless y’er hearts and FOUNDER Artaia, thank ye,” he prayed.
“This way,” said Elwin, as he led him up the side staircase. Since all the rooms were unoccupied, and he looked like he needed a good rest, Elwin gave the haggard man the room with the most cozy and comfortable bed; it used to be his father’s study.
“Here’s your key. Please ring us with the brassbell in your room before you check out in the morning,” he instructed, glancing at his tattered cloak. “You travelled from afar?”
“Yea.”
“Where from?”
“Gaya,” he said. “But please, don’t tell any ’un.”
The Republic of Gaya was nearly 2,500 miles away.
“Wow, must’ve been quite the journey. We seldom get guests from eastern republics. Have a good rest, I’ll bring your clam chowder up.”
“Many thanks. Y’er a solid young man,” he said.
Elwin nodded and brought him the steaming clam chowder, which the man wolfed down with relish and fervor. He must have been starving. He didn’t know who the man was or why he travelled, but he felt sympathy for him; perhaps he was running from something. Elwin wondered about the sights he must’ve seen.
But such curiosities like the haggard man were not entirely rare, and soon the guest faded from the forefront of Elwin’s thoughts.
The hour was late and the first floor of The Marlin was completely empty. Elwin drummed his fingers on the countertop while reading a book about antaricity and lights; he was absolutely mesmerized with the detailed diagrams and descriptions and heroic tales of people who figured it all out and gave perpetual light to all cities of the world.
Then, the bells jingled by the door-side and two people walked in.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Immediately, Elwin took notice. One was a man, dressed in a black overcoat with a hood on top so that Elwin couldn’t make out his face clearly. Beneath the waves of black where the overcoat was parted slightly at the front, Elwin made out what seemed to be a well-tailored jacket with a purple tie. From how he was dressed, it was obvious he didn’t want to be seen or perused.
The other person was a woman, dressed in a dark beige pea-coat, with a button-up shirt of darker brown at the collar. She had a light scarf of gold that draped around her neck, and a narrow-brimmed hat of navy, adjusted expertly to one side. Years of working at The Marlin gave Elwin an observant eye, and he knew immediately that the pair weren’t ordinary customers. Only officials and ministers of institutions were dressed like this, and granted, Elwin had a fair share of them in his experience, but there was a different manner in which this mysterious pair stood and carried themselves.
“Table for two, please,” spoke the woman. Her voice was gentle but carried with it a sense of graceful authority – not the petty and patronizing authority of schoolteachers and superintendents that Elwin had grown tired of – but an entirely different authority altogether that distinguished itself with presence, almost consul-like.
“This way, sir and madam,” spoke Elwin, as he diligently led the pair to the most well-furnished table, with a wooden chair and cushion for each of the seats, and a well paired hydrangeas flower in a little porcelain cup and a candle, which was unlit. The candle! Elwin snapped his fingers to make a small spark, and the flame began to dance. His mother taught him how to control fire too, but Elwin of course couldn’t do it at the level of his Maht. Nevertheless, it was good for a small task or two at the Inn, on occasions like these.
Elwin said, “I will be right with you,” and reached for the menu across the countertop. He had so many questions, like he always did. What were the two doing in a humble inn like The Marlin? Shouldn’t they be dining at an upscale restaurant in the middle of the city at the grand downtown junction, and not here where a couple of cobbled paveroads met?
“Here we are! I am Elwin, your server for today. I will be waiting to take your order.” At a closer distance, Elwin took a detailed portrait of both figures. The man was still hooded, but in the flickering light of the candle, he could make out a beard and well-combed hair of silver. His facial features, however, were still obscured, the candleflame veering to particular directions depending on where Elwin stood. Could he be controlling the direction of the candleflame so as not to illuminate his face?
The woman had taken off her hat and placed it on her lap, and Elwin noticed her hair gradated from a dark shade of coffee to amber near the trims, neatly-kept and tied into a loose bun at the back. Layered fringes curtained a part of her forehead to the left, and ended in a precisely cut sidelock that neatly concealed her leftmost cheek. The sides of her hair behind the fringes flowed onto her shirt collar and draped her calm, elegant features. She looked to be from the Republic of Heian, a place where a majority of denizens featured hair of a naturally deeper black; Elwin thought her handsome, beautiful even – and in some peculiar way, she reminded him of his own mother.
By now, most new customers would have at least made a comment on his eyewrap, but to his surprise and quiet delight, the two did not make any such inquiries. This only deepened the mystery behind these two figures.
The pair perused the menu thoroughly. The woman spoke.
“May we start with the soup?”
“Yes, of course. May I interest you in our homemade clam-chowder?”
Clam-chowder, the staple of many families in the Republic of Ascension, Elwin’s home-city. Usually, clam-chowder was relegated to the working class and the fishermen, but depending on how one made it, it could prove an absolutely wonderful delight. Even with that, however, Elwin was embarrassed to offer this commoner’s dish to these customers who could as well be ministers. He braced for refusal, possibly accompanied by an expression of disgust.
“Very well! I am looking forward to it. For both of us, please.” The woman smiled a smile so warm that instantaneously defused Elwin’s fears.
“Right away, madam.”
Elwin withdrew to the kitchen to give his mother the note with the order. He breathed a sigh of relief. Were ministers this nice? Or was this just this specific person?
“Something bothering you?” asked Anna to her son.
“No, just some interesting customers. I think they’re important, possibly from the ministry.”
“The city council here?”
“No, I think they’re from places far higher.”
“Well, let’s try our best as we always do!”
“Right on, mom!”
Anna began working right away to make a fresh pot of the hearty clam-chowder that earned many returning guests for The Marlin, some even from cities of other republics. It once made the local newspaper for the best clam chowder in the neighborhood, beating out even the prestigious restaurants closer to the rail station, who were furious. This news brought in many customers from far and wide, even beyond their immediate community.
Elwin brought out the cutlery and arranged them as neatly as he could for the two customers. There were no fancy spoons or forks or knives or skewers like they had in big restaurants, simply because his family couldn’t afford them, and people displayed a universal tendency to swipe the good ones, so he felt a tinge of shame as he laid down the plain metal utensils on the napkin and their plates, idiosyncratic and bare. The spoons didn’t even gleam, and their muffled sheen seemed to mock him.
“Please excuse the humble decorum,” said Elwin.
“Not at all,” replied the woman, turning to look at Elwin’s face. It was then he noticed that she had eyes of brilliant and deep amber, much like his. The gentle light from the candle danced this way and that and cast a host of dramatic shadows on both the figures. Elwin was mesmerized by the play of light for a second, and turned to leave for the kitchen, when the woman gestured to him.
“Wait.”