I stumble forward with a leg still too battered to walk properly. I glance at the two [Guards] at my sides, but they are not Antoninus and Lucillus. Somehow, the two of them got even more battered than me. They will have to take at least two days off and stay at the [Healer].

Tiberius and Quintus took the lightest beating.

The worst-off was Truffles. He went from stupidly drunk and careless to an unresponsive, full-blown panic attack that lasted until I left. Well, that’s not exactly the case—I actually don’t know whether the panic attack went away or not.

Twitchy.

That’s how Truffles was. Twitching, screaming incoherently and thoroughly traumatized.

I pass a hand over my face.

I should have known better.

I had all these people come out with me, and I should have prevented all of this from going down. I should have pulled Truffles back immediately. I should have known that the [Soldiers] would have used him as an excuse. And then, I caved under the rage. I attacked first.

What a fool.

“Do you need to rest? We can wait until you catch your breath.”

Without realizing it, I have started to pant. But my breathing is not affected by my tiredness as much as by my anger.

“No, sorry. I… it was a hell of a night. I just want to go home as soon as possible.”

A hell of a night.

What an understatement.

I had thought that the bake-off would have settled a lot of the trouble I had met in Amorium, but it seemed that, for the second time in my life, I was just putting my head in the sand. Why the second time, you’re asking?

I am not stupid.

I might not be special, but I’m not stupid.

I knew something was up with my mother, that she was more tired than usual, that she disappeared at weird times.

I could have guessed it. I could have seen it from miles away. My memory is not the same, but I have read a few medical wikis out of curiosity, you know? I should have been able to see the signs of what was coming.

And still, maybe nothing would have changed. She got the best cures. We could afford them without sweating. But what I cannot forgive myself is the fact that she had to go through it by herself, without her son. That she had to take care of me like a baby until the very moment she could not leave the bed anymore.

What kind of a man am I?

I swallow a sob as I keep my head low.

We are not too far from my apartment.

I shake my head.

The [Healer] told me two of my ribs are cracked. My shoulder is messed up too. My left knee is battered and swollen. They will heal with some health potion, but I’ll need to dose it over the course of a week.

Yet another great piece of news.

Damn it.

Each pulsating ache in my leg serves as a constant reminder of what occurred just four hours ago. It's a harsh reminder of my foolishness. If my mother were here, she would surely scold me for my stupidity… even though she did not, when she fell ill.

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But that’s because she was ready to sacrifice herself for me. But what have I learned? What has changed since her death? I had friends, a marvelous job, and I was at the very top of my field on Earth. What have I learned?

I still helped homeless people back in NYC. Hell, once, I even got stabbed by one.

What am I doing differently after my mother died?

My eyes sting as the answer is clear.

Nothing. I have done nothing different.

I can’t do no paperwork, I can’t drive a car by myself without a panic attack, and I cannot take any responsibility outside of the bakery—even then, I can barely take care of the kitchen. If you asked me to manage suppliers and that kind of stuff, I would probably blackout. If there had ever been an audit where I would be the one talking to the auditor, I would have puked my guts out.

I am the one taking responsibility for Tiberius and Quintus. I am the one who promised Truffles to teach him about soap, something that not even [Alchemists] share without a soul-binding contract or some stuff like that. I told Stan that I wanted to help. Here, unlike in NYC, I can make a splash big enough to make a huge difference in so many lives. But will I? Can I actually do that?

I think of Lorenzo.

He once threw a critic out of his restaurant for being loud and disrespectful to a server. Also, he slapped the man before doing so. Hard. To some, that would be the equivalent of behaving like an animal. To his staff, he was like a father. Few kitchens have an entire staff happy to work with a chef. Usually, you avoid being too close to the chef since they might very well have a breakdown at any point or subject you to their insane whims. Lorenzo had iron rules and iron hands. He would teach you all he could, making you work hard but still enjoy it. People took pride in what they did. And they felt protected, treasured.

How do my people feel?

I feel extremely ashamed of what happened to Truffles. I feel so ashamed that I couldn’t even talk to the blonde Elf. I just wanted to put my head in the sand again. But as they say, fool me twice…

The third time would be neglect. It wouldn’t be any quirkiness on my part. When you can act on protecting others, knowing full well you could, but you don’t, you are harming them.

If I could go back in time, would I become a doctor? Would I actually refuse to become one, knowing full well I could have made a difference for my mother? I know exactly what she died of. Could I have tried to… become special?

Those are the questions with an answer too obvious for most people. ‘Joey, you would obviously have to.’

Would I?

“Ok, thank you for bringing me home,” I say as the two [Guards] nod at me and start walking back.

I slowly head up to my room.

Would I change my whole life, my whole being, to save my mother?

Would it have changed anything? Would she have wanted me to shred my happiness for her?

No. She would have never accepted that.

And so, a scarier question lingers in the air.

Would I have been unhappy if I had become a doctor?

The fact that the answer might have been ‘yes’ is terrifying. It’s soul-rending in the very literal sense. If the answer was yes, I would have effectively condemned my mother, perhaps. If it was yes and I had taken responsibility for the choice, I would have been able to stay by her side during the whole medical ordeal instead of finding out in the last moment because I was too much of a child in her eyes to deal with it.

I look at the door handle and twist it, entering my room and bringing myself to a chair. Not to the bed. No. I’m sitting at the living room table.

It’s easy for people with half a brain to find a justification for everything, never to admit that they might have actually fucked up their own life. One of the most interesting takes of our times that I have ever heard is the following: ‘We might have messed up just about everything and, in considering the state of things, our best chance is to focus on our children; try and raise good people because you might be irreparably broken. Stop focusing on yourself. Focus on the future.’

It's chilling. The takeaway is that sometimes we just have to accept that everything we held onto was messed up and that it’s time to move on to the next stage of life. For most, that’s sitting down, getting married, and having children.

Sadly, I am currently without a wife with a giant bosom. Therefore, children are not a solution available to me.

I look over the table.

There might be something else, though.

Lorenzo’s words come to me.

You want to demonstrate to the whole world that your school of cuisine is the best? You’ll need to take a risk. There’s no revolution without casualties, Giusè. You believe in something? Then go do something. Don’t wait. Don’t listen to others. Don’t do yourself like Orpheus.

Don’t look back.

Go forward.

When you take a decision…

Commit.

I extend a hand over the table and place it on the now dusty tome in the center. I blow away the offending particles and move the book in front of me.

I open the Omnium Compendium.