Alaric sipped his tea in comfortable silence for a bit longer, allowing his thoughts to churn slowly in his mind. Ever since going to the Tower of Seekers, his life has been turned upside down.
The cool silver bracelet under the sleeve of his silky garments was proof of that. The Tower of Seekers had offered him patronage, a girl had offered him all the wealth he could imagine in exchange for his guardian, he’d fought against a gang of mercenaries, and now, he was to attend a festival in a town not too far from home.
There was still a bit of time before he left for the festival. ‘One more question wouldn’t hurt.’
“Old Blood runs deep in Jack’s Fall. What do you mean by that?” Alaric asked.
“My ancestor, Jack, settled here many centuries ago. Our stories are that it is here that he laid down his sword and settled into a comfortable life. I take it not many liked what he did and ended up calling the town Jack’s Fall while others like to joke that he fell down the hill after fetching a bucket of water from the well, being a rich aristocrat who’d never known a day of labour in his life,” the old man chuckled.
Alaric laughed as well, wondering why such a silly act would cause the town to gain its ridiculous name.
“From that day on, we’ve lived here, preserving his memory… I am his direct descendant. My daughter lives in the capital. She’s currently serving the Elite Guard. A few more years and she’ll be allowed to return where she’ll take my place and we’ll continue to protect the knowledge and history this town holds… That, and to make me cakes,” the last part came out with a tinge of excitement.
“Cakes?” Alaric doubled back, wondering whether he’d heard the man right.
“Hail… bring a few of Talia’s lemon cakes please,” the old man roared with excitement and stars in his eyes.
Hail popped his head out of the door with an ashen expression. The blood seemed to have drained from his face, “The ones in the vault, my Lord?”
“The very ones, Hail,” the master of the house replied.
It wasn’t long before a fragrant scent came leaking out the door. On a delicate tray, the old caretaker had a collection of delicious-looking lemon-green cakes, each one topped with lime-green icing.
[Oh dear] Alia mentally face-palmed.
‘Those cakes look amazing,’ Alaric’s mouth watered. When was the last time he’d tasted a cake? Did cakes even come in the colour green… The boy’s mouth watered even more. The smell of sugar made the extravagant tea he’d been taking look like garbage… utter piss.
“I thought you said your daughter was in the capital,” Alaric mentioned absentmindedly, watching the steam rise off the surface of the heavenly treats.
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“Well yeah…”
The boy’s mind froze like SwiftWind pumping the brakes before colliding with a cliff. What was he missing? The cakes were hot… and yet…
“When did she make these?”
“Ah, sharp as a tack. I use magic to keep them fresh and hot. It’s not perfect so they don’t compare to the ones freshly baked. Still, I’d do anything to hold onto something my daughter made for me,” the man happily picked up one of the cakes. His face was stuck between joy and sadness, both because he would get to taste his daughter’s cooking and because he was reminded of her absence.
“Maybe I’ll have one,” Alaric sympathised… before taking one bite of his cake.
An explosion of flavour erupted in his tastebuds, turning his brain to mush.
“HAIL… LOCK THE VAULT!” the old man yelled…
Hail came a moment later, ambling over just in time to see Alaric gobbling up the last cake with a teary look of bliss on his face, “That was soooo good. I’ve been starving, too. Do you have more? You must have more… Where is the vault?”
“Far away from you,” the village elder cried. Hail was gone in a flash, his disappearance followed by the sound of a closing metal door.
Alaric chuckled, “Sorry… I… uh, lost myself for a moment.”
[Alia, what happened?] Alaric inwardly yelled.
Alia’s only reply was an outburst of laughter which only made the boy go red with embarrassment, “I really am sorry.”
“It’s fine… Hail, tell me we still have more stashed away,” the Village Elder held the tray with a look of sadness.
Hail remained silent, then turned to the young boy, “Come, Lord Alaric. The master will need some time to himself.”
Alaric stood, “Again… I’m…”
“Don’t mind Hail. He’s only messing with you. Show him to the festival. And Hail, make sure the boy eats his fill,” at the end, Alaric felt a shiver run down his spine.
“I’m actually feeling a bit better now that I’ve…”
“Hail… All stalls are to treat him to whatever he wants… My treat,” the old man cut Alaric off, “Enjoy the festival, Lord Alaric.”
Before Alaric could say more, the old caretaker took his hand and led him back into the house.
On their way, he let out a long chuckle, “I haven’t seen the master like that in a long time. Thank you, Lord Alaric.”
“But he looked furious,” Alaric argued, matching the old caretaker’s speed. For an old man, he was quite agile.
“It’ll take him a while to mourn the loss of his daughter’s cakes… but don’t worry about it too much,” Hail replied with a chuckle, “Let’s get you back to your friends.”
At the gate, Alaric met a familiar-looking behemoth of a knight dressed in white, “Lionheart?” he asked.
“Alaric, you certainly took your time,” the man responded. As he spoke, the air behind him rippled and a massive lion stepped out, shaking its magnificent mane and spreading its majestic golden wings, “Let’s go join the others.”
“Lord Alaric, do you know this man?”
“Yes, he was assigned to watch over me by the Tower of Seekers,” Alaric replied with a smile, “I’ll be fine now. Thank you for everything. I’ll see you either after or at the festival.”
With that, Alaric ran up to the large gold-maned lion. The creature lowered his back and allowed the boy to climb aboard. Enthusiastically, he pointed forward, “LionHeart, let’s go… Onward.”
Lionheart chuckled at the boy’s enthusiasm only for his face to go pale when the great lion bent down and kicked off with a powerful jump, taking to the sky. With a graceful flap of his powerful wings, the lion shot towards the town, leaving its master behind.
‘Heh…’
Hail watched the lion shoot to the sky and allowed a smile to grace his face. As the lion’s master ran off in pursuit of his guardian, rage burning through his every fibre, the caretaker whispered to himself, “Lord Alaric’s certainly an interesting fellow.”