Zan woke up before Jiehong. Of course.

Stomach growling, he wondered what there was to eat.

Seeing nothing in the room, he wandered down the stairs to see if anything was on the menu. It was about lunchtime, and though it would be a late lunch, Zan hoped to grab a bite to eat before a full day of exploring the city.

Well, a half-day of exploring, then a night of… something, Zan thought. Though about what, he didn’t know. As long as he and Jiehong didn’t spend the night partying, it would be fine. And what were the odds of that?

Ignoring the odds, when Zan wandered down the stairs, the barmaid from last night greeted him.

“You look surprisingly homely,” she said.

“Because I am. I only had a few. Not by choice, really,” Zan replied.

“Oh, you don’t enjoy drinking? Most guys your age do. Not like I approve, but you see how it goes.”

“It shouldn’t be the focus, now. Not during an invasion. It impedes life.”

“I hear you loud and clear. The drink tore apart my family when I was but a lass. What can I get for you? Your room comes with a board meal. Want some stew? Still hot from the night before. Or maybe if it tickled your fancy, a nice sandwich with cheese in the middle? I can make you just about anything.”

Zan hadn’t been expecting a free meal. His tummy telling him to partake, he decided on the sandwich. “You grill it?” he asked.

“Sure do! Two slices of our homemade bread. One slice of our handmade cheese. It’s heaven! You’ll see!” the maid said, already in the kitchen throwing the meal together. Minutes later, she brought out a golden brown, slightly burned around the edges sandwich with a gooey flow of cheese at the edges. It smelled lovely. It came with a side of pickled cucumbers and potato slivers.

Zan took a whiff, then a bite, and immediately found himself in flavor city.

A sweet, creamy cheese texture followed the soft crunch from the toasted bread. As he chewed, Zan found the bread and cheese mix in an intoxicating blend of simple, yet delicious, balance.

“Don’t forget the pickles!” the barmaid said.

Not wanting to appear rude, although Zan had no interest in pickles, as he had never had them before, he took a bite from one, and recanted everything; sweet, sour and salty, then the crunch!

Before he knew it, all the pickles were gone, followed soon after by the sandwich. He cleaned his face with the napkin and burped.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

The barmaid giggled, but not offensively. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she said. “Let me get you some iced water to wash that all down.”

Going outback, she returned with a tall, glass drinking cup filled with ice chunks. She dunked the glass under a fresh spring spigot and filled it to the brim. Temperature difference cracked some ice, making a ‘popping’ sound as bits of ice shattered.

“Bubbles?” Zan asked.

“Yeah. It’s a feature around here. No idea what causes it,” the maid said.

Having already tried a couple of new foods, Zan saw no reason to stop now, and downed the iced water with the popping quality.

“Thirsty boy!”

“Travel works up an appetite.”

“Oh? You and your friend? Where are you heading?” the maid said.

“Nowhere in particular. We’re trying to locate an academic. Someone who can translate the Old Tongue. Know any?” Zan asked.

The maid laughed and said, “Sorry. That’s quite the order. If there is anyone with brains in this bird-brained town, they would be at the library. Though they typically only let scholars older than sin inside. Or university students, but you need a badge. Are you a student?”

“No… my friend, Jiehong, and I are martial fighters. Our village was caught in the invasion’s path. Then we stumbled across… I won’t bore you with the details. We’re fighters with an Order and we need an academic. It could change the tide of the war.”

“Sounds important. If you’re not students, there is only so much you can do to gain entry to the library. I wonder if you explained the situation to the librarian if they would help you, regardless?”

“Only one way to find out,” Zan said, lifting himself off his feet.

“Thank you, ma’am,” Zan said, turning to see a Jiehong stumbling down the stairs.

“Our room includes a meal for each of us. I had a delicious sandwich. Get something to eat, then scope out the town. I am heading to the library to try—”

“No, I will go to the library,” Jiehong said.

“What? Why?” Zan nearly stuttered.

“Because I am the one who has actually had some formal education. I might not be an academic or a university student, but I am nearly there. Plus, as a Goodwill Civilian and a member of a friendly Order resisting the invasion, there shouldn’t be any reason why they would turn me away. So, I will go to the library,” Jiehong explained.

Considering Jiehong’s response, he couldn’t disagree. The logic was sound… he was all of what he said, and he had the private tutoring from his parents. Their guardians. It made sense for him to go.

“Fine. Don’t forget to really emphasize our needs. All we need is for one academic to glance at the list. Speaking of which, here it is. I know you will be careful with it but I need you to be extra careful with it. Don’t take ‘no’ for an answer,” Zan explained.

“I know how these things work, buddy. I won’t fail us!”

“Okay… good. I will trek around town. If I find nothing, I might snoop outside of the town. Ask those folks outside. Otherwise, meet back here past sunset. If we don’t encounter each other sooner,” Zan continued to explain.

Leaving Jiehong to his meal after giving him the list Mac had given them, Zan wondered where he should begin.

‘Guess I’ll just wander,’ he told himself.

Zan’s first impression was to find the wealthier section of the city. With wealth often came knowledge. Or at least the access to knowledge. He would begin there.

Wandering as he did, though, simply straight around the town’s perimeter, he saw no sign of high wealth. He saw large rectangular buildings. Poultry slaughterhouses, evidently. But no signs of money.

‘So much for that,’ Zan sighed. What could he do?

Asking everyone he saw, no one paid him any heed. He passed the library. Saw no one inside, though that meant nothing, necessarily. Libraries were not exactly cultural hotspots.

Looking at the sun and its increasingly slow drip to the horizon, Zan had no other choice — he would have to talk with the rebels outside.