"Ahh, for fu*k's sake, my money is almost over becasue of her medical bills. Even though I tried to kill her, something like a barrier is blocking me." Alex's frustration deepened as he thought of Lyra. He stepped out of the healer's guild, the cool evening air biting at his face. The bustling city was alive with activity—merchants shouting to potential buyers, traders haggling, and the soft glow of magic lamps casting long shadows over the cobbled streets.
It didn't take long before he noticed the familiar stall at the small crossroads, a young woman standing behind it, her smile bright and welcoming despite the late hour. The basket in front of her was filled with freshly baked pastries, and the sweet, warm aroma immediately reached his senses.
Alex slowed as he approached, his tired body unwilling to pass up a chance for something to eat. As he drew closer, the woman's eyes lit up at the sight of him. She recognized him immediately—the traveler from earlier who had seemed exhausted and weary.
"Traveler!" she called out cheerfully, waving her hand to get his attention. "You look like you've had a rough journey. How about something sweet to refresh you?"
Alex gave her a half-hearted smile, still not entirely sure how to interact with people in this bustling city. "I could use something sweet," he said, his voice weary, though his stomach betrayed him with a quiet growl.
She laughed lightly at the sound, clearly used to hearing it from hungry travelers. "How about a cinnamon twist? They're freshly baked, and I'm sure they'll put a little warmth back in your step."
Alex eyed the pastries, the cinnamon twists looking particularly tempting, golden and flaky. However, he wasn't exactly rolling in coins. He'd been given some money by Maren, but he had no intention of blowing it all on something that could easily be overpriced.
"How much for one?" he asked, though his tone was more cautious than curious.
"Two coppers for one," the woman replied with a grin, holding one up to show him.
Alex raised an eyebrow. He had little knowledge of the going rates for food in the capital, but he wasn't about to just accept the price. After all, he wasn't exactly in a position to waste money.
"That's a little steep for a cinnamon twist," Alex said, his tone casual but firm. "How about two for a copper?"
The woman's smile faltered slightly, and she crossed her arms, clearly weighing her options. "Two for a copper?" she repeated, her voice a mix of disbelief and hesitation. She glanced at the fresh batch of pastries still in the basket. "You really think that's fair?"
Alex didn't flinch. "You've already got a lot of customers, right? So, two for a copper isn't unreasonable. Besides, I'm not asking for three." He added a small shrug to his words, hoping to make his offer seem more casual.
She hesitated, her fingers tapping against the edge of the basket as she considered. "I'm already giving you a good deal at two coppers for one," she muttered under her breath, but her gaze softened slightly as she looked at him.
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"Alright, fine," she said after a moment, the reluctant tone still present. "Two for a copper. But don't expect this every time, traveler." She handed over the cinnamon twists in a small paper bag.
Alex took the pastries with a small nod of thanks, his stomach already anticipating the taste. "Thanks, I appreciate it," he said, offering her a smile that, while small, was genuine.
As Alex took a bite of the cinnamon twist, the experience was nothing short of revelatory. The first crunch of the pastry was sharp and satisfying, the golden, flaky crust giving way to the soft, tender layers inside. It was as if the dough itself had been kissed by the perfect balance of heat, ensuring each bite was light and airy while still providing a satisfying density.
The cinnamon hit his taste buds first, a wave of sweetness and spice that exploded in his mouth with the precision of a perfectly executed dish. It wasn't the overpowering, cloying sweetness found in lesser treats—no, this was a refined blend of cinnamon, sugar, and just a hint of butter, with each note singing in harmony.
It reminded him of those rare moments when something simple transcends its humble origins and becomes something extraordinary. The sugar sprinkled on top had a slight caramelization, adding a gentle crispness, as if the pastry had been brushed with just the right amount of warmth to achieve that perfect melt-in-your-mouth finish.
As the flavors unfolded on his tongue, he could feel the layers of complexity—there was a subtle undertone of vanilla that rounded out the cinnamon, a buttery richness that lingered, creating an aftertaste that was both comforting and indulgent.
The sweetness was there, but it never overshadowed the spice; it was balanced with the finesse of a dish created by a true master. The entire experience was like a fleeting moment of perfection—one of those rare instances where a simple food item could elicit an emotional response, leaving him with a profound sense of satisfaction and a hint of nostalgia.
After savoring the last bite of the cinnamon twist, Alex leaned back against a nearby wall, letting the warmth of the pastry settle in his stomach. His body, now refreshed with that small comfort, was still on high alert, the anxiety of the past few days lingering in his mind. But for that brief moment, the weight of the world seemed a little lighter. The cinnamon flavor still danced on his tongue, and he allowed himself a rare moment of peace.
Once the moment passed, reality set back in. He pulled out his coin pouch from inside his cloak and took a quick inventory of what he had left. As his fingers sifted through the coins, he could feel the tightness in his chest growing. The coin pouch, once filled with a bit more, now contained only 15 copper pieces.
A soft sigh escaped his lips as he stared at the small pile of copper. "That's it..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.
He had used some of his money to pay for the healer's services for Lyra, and now he found himself with barely enough to last him through the next few days. The market around him was full of potential distractions—new clothes, supplies, food, and all manner of things that could be useful—but the reality of his dwindling funds left him feeling uneasy.
Alex had always been someone who could survive on little, but the growing uncertainty was harder to ignore now. It wasn't that he didn't have the skills to make do or even survive on his own, but the idea of having so little when so much seemed at stake gnawed at him.
With a sigh, he tucked the pouch back inside his coat, trying not to focus on the meager amount left. He needed to find work or a way to earn more, but for now, his thoughts were on Lyra. Killing her was his priority, yet something kept him from doing so—or even abandoning her without providing food. With that restriction, the only option left was to help her. When he helped her he could move freely, now this was the reason even though he was far away from Lyra.
The bustle of the city continued around him, its magic-lit streets buzzing with activity, but Alex couldn't help feeling the pressure of the few copper coins left in his possession. He wasn't used to feeling so vulnerable, and as much as he had relied on his own wits to survive before.