Since the beginning of “The Era of Equity”, life of the common people improved significantly. But, as a result of the calm life, people and their improved life became mundane and repetitive. Sleeping became so painful – enough to involve the half of the populace to get insomnia. The most agonizing part is the moment just before sleeping, disappointed and with unfulfillment eminent, pondering whether if it is even worth the struggle. But to ease the pain of acknowledging one’s meaningless existence, a lullaby of someone so legendary – someone who brought meaning to the world – is a much-needed relief. One such tale, so legendary and epic, is the “Song of Capeless Knight”, where a knight of steel and linen shields his lady – a princess – with all his might, to save her from the inevitable end of a thousand cavalry.

“Hush, my dear, and softly dream,

Of a knight who faced the final gleam,

Where thousands came with fire and blade,

Yet he stood tall with a capeless façade.

No adorned insignia upon his figure,

Just astounding signs of countless endeavor,

For in his hand, a blade was borne,

A simple vow the knight had sworn.

“For love alone, this fight will be fought,

No cape, no valor – for only her, I face death”

He chants these words – his final plea,

To stand for her, to keep her free.

The cavalry advanced, a flood of flame,

Yet still he stood, without a name,

Their fury crashed, but would not bend

The knight who swore to fight till end.

Blades clashed and broke, he marked his ground,

Against the tide, making his last stand,

At the rise of dawn, only his carcass stood

As the army fled, he looked on far

Upholding the creed, he would so dream

“At least she could remain at ease”

The princess wept, seeing the field,

“To rid the land of hate and greed”,

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

She found the standing hero, bid adieu

And named this song "The Capeless Knight’s Dawn."

Now every night, with stars so high,

His final stand is sung to the skies,

Of how one man, with no grand fame,

Defied a thousand, for only her name.

So, sleep, my child, and hold him near

The Capeless Knight, who knew no fear,

His last stand echoes through the night,

A hero born from endless cries”, sings Will, his voice soft and light. “I never knew you would sing so lovely… So, what did I miss?”, says Anastasia, waking up from her slumber. Visibly confused, “You have been out cold for at least an hour now. And you seemingly woke up and fell asleep once in that period”, says Will. Not wanting to lose another person from his side, Will carefully watched and tended Anna while she was out, changing the cold towels and even noticing the smallest changes in her breath. “How are you feeling? Is there anything you need?”, asks Will. “No, no, I am completely fine. I noticed that Johann and Li are absent. Did they go somewhere?”, says Anna.

Right as she asked where Johann was, “Since now that you are awake, I am more than happy to present to you, the almond cake – Desert Oasis”, says Johann, coming in from the backroom with a platter with a cake on top. “Care to go upstairs? It was said on the instructions – serve it with tea, under a starry night”, says Johann. On the side of the stairwell up, portraits and illustrations can be seen: a picture of the countryside, the aerial view of the city and even an aristocrat’s family portrait. Up in the mansard, a big window viewing the city west – church and all – gleams of moonlight and calm breath.

The building of the versteckter Gipfel bakery is quite an old 4 story rustic block, serving as Johann’s living quarters as well as his jobsite. About 4 years ago, after Johann settled in Hanover as a result of a tragic string of events, he came into ownership of the place. With his father dead and homeland forsaken, he lost all means of rationality and retreat, thus becoming a baker – a mundane enough profession. As the last straw of his burnout, he joined a writing circle, the Trading Jacks, which is where he came across Anastasia. Through the years, he developed pessimistic, noir-like stories which reflected parts of his life. But, like a drought ridden land receiving rainfall at last, his stories became livelier and cheerier. As his co-redactor, Anastasia made sure to make Johann’s scriptures more fulfilling; rather than the main character coming to the realization of uselessness, they made their revelation of living as they pleased, having full confidence and being more useful and happier. In a sense, Anastasia inserted herself into Johann’s writing, making him and his work lighter.

“Do not wrong me for doing this, Mr. Hennessy. Mr. Johann said you cannot be affected by caffeine, and you really liked mocha, so I made you a cup of mocha instead of tea to go with the cake. Ms. Anna, I made you a cup of Ceylon, as well as with myself, and Mr. Johann requested a cup of cacao so I made it as well”, says Li, setting the four cups to the right order. “It is Will, mate. And, speaking of, if I know this guy well, he also told you that I liked alcohol. Why not open the bottle here?”, says Will, asking for a toast which he anticipated since sun fall. “Let us put it off until tomorrow, shall we? We have a cake on the platter, what more could you ask for, eh?”, says Anna, eager to try out the cake. “Aw~ But I want to at least sip a little”, says Will, evidently upset. Sipping from his cup and quickly cheering up, “Li, mate, did you say you made these? This tastes amazing – far better than the soy milk and cheap chocolate Johann has around his cupboards”, says Will sipping the mocha. “Oh, I did not think you would notice such there. As his mana capacity is so immense, I thought it would be wise to make use of it and make the milk and cacao from it. He already knew how to make tea leaves so I only taught him to make milk, though, as the cacao recipe is a bit too intricate to make it right, the cacao is from the house, mate. Do not belittle me”, says Johann, evidently proud of his young apprentice but also upset at how Will thought of his shop.

Seeing the lack of cutlery and plates, “Allow me to make plates of porcelain and cutlery of silver” says Li, spurring a kindle. Just as he channelled mana out of his palm, nothing unusual happened, but, as he made more and more constructs, his mana output increased exponentially; his constructs became heavier and heavier as well as more crude by the counting numbers. And soon enough they became more than what he could manage. Setting into a limbo state, “Hochjei Setmartire. Siri litsiraso du-chirein hilbei bin-mir nout. DAVO!” says Li, his accent unrecognizable and ominous.

image [https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GhQVrNKbEAACIjI?format=png&name=small]

One's attic must be quite peaceful at night. If it isn't, then it is a room - a part of the house.

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