A woman seemingly in her early twenties walked in, her ash-brown hair waving down her back. She stopped, her light-brown eyes fixed on a man having a meal at a nearby table, wearing a deep blue apron.
Faelan looked at her, then around the room, before looking back at her.
"I don't think the restaurant's open yet," he remarked.
"O-oh, I'm not..." She shook her head. "Not a customer. I work here. Waitress. I'm Eiloya, you?" she asked, moving closer to him.
"Faelan. You can say I work here too, in the kitchen."
"A new employee. Nice to meet you." Eiloya gave him a warm smile.
"Good morning, Grymsly's Hall!" A man in his late twenties yelled as he barged in.
"Shut up, Revig!" Bhrithel yelled from the kitchen.
"Starting another day grouchy, I see." He shrugged, turning to Eiloya. "How did you sleep last night?"
"Good. What about you?"
"Terrible. I only had six hours of sleep instead of seven. I hope the bags under my eyes aren't visible."
His hazel eyes landed on Faelan.
"You look like you had even less."
Of course someone would say it at some point, Faelan thought to himself.
"Yes, actually," he responded.
"What's your name?"
"Faelan. I suppose I work in the kitchen," Faelan replied, noticing the seared mark on his neck.
"I'm Revig Athex. Just Revig is okay."
Full name. He must be from a country.
"Sure," Faelan replied, returning to his meal.
They both went to the inner room, coming out wearing deep-blue vests that matched the aprons.
"Did Kharce already come by?" Eiloya asked Bhrithel.
"Yes, he went out for a delivery a few minutes ago."
"Alright, then," she replied, heading to the main hall, Revig already ahead of her, setting the tables.
Faelan returned to the kitchen, stopping at the door when he noticed a large pot placed on the stove.
"Never seen a pot before?" Nerron chuckled.
"I have, just not one that big," Faelan replied, stepping inside.
"A lot of what's on the menu are just different ways of cooking one thing, so we make the roots collectively. Then, depending on what's ordered, we make it from there up."
"Wouldn't it be better if everything was made in advance?"
"Usually, yes, but—"
"It would be a lot of initial effort, and there's the possibility of one dish being ordered more than another, so we'll have shortages and surpluses. Besides, people prefer a hot meal," Bhrithel cut in.
"There you have it," Nerron agreed.
"Now, make yourself useful and chop these." She handed Faelan a tray of vegetables.
He took the tray from her and picked up a knife.
This is sharp, Faelan thought as he cut through the vegetables with ease.
Some distance beside him, Nerron stood removing scales from fish.
It would be easier if he did it in water.
"I'm done." He handed the tray to Bhrithel.
"That was quick. You better not have cut yourself. Don't want to feed people your parts." Her voice lowered. "Some might even like it." She shuddered at the thought.
"I didn't."
"Good. Peel those next." She gestured to a stack of colatad tubers.
Faelan stared at the colatad before peeling it, exposing its wet, purple insides. He began cutting them into pieces, the fluids covering his hands.
It itches.
Faelan rubbed his hands slightly before continuing. The sensation increased. He scratched his hands again, this time accompanied by a burning sensation.
"Stop doing that!" Nerron called out. "You'll just make it worse."
Nerron walked over.
"Do you not know what colatads are like?"
"It's my first time seeing one, actually."
"That makes sense. I'm done scaling, so handle the fish guts. I'll finish this."
"Sure," Faelan replied, washing his hands.
They heard the main door open.
"First customer. I bet you 50 Rells it's Kovlan," Nerron remarked.
"It's going to be Jedmin," Bhrithel replied.
Eiloya came into the kitchen, pinning a small note to a flat wooden board by the door.
"Eiloya, who came?" Norren asked.
"It was Jedmin, just like yesterday and the day before," Eiloya replied, returning to the main hall.
"And that makes... 200. Not a bad amount," Bhrithel giggled.
"Does that guy have nothing to do in the mornings?" Norren sighed.
"He's probably trying to get some conversation time with a certain waitress, so he's going to keep it up for quite a while. Feel free to keep calling bets, though." She gave him a wide smile.
"No thanks." Norren sighed, checking the written note. "He wants a bowl of Khish broth. Of course he picks what takes the longest to prepare."
He crumpled the paper and began boiling colatads, adding long blades of blue-green grass tied in knots.
He gave Faelan a bowl of Selim nuts.
"Help me crush those."
Faelan nodded and took it.
---
People averted their eyes as the two men passed by.
"Don't drop those," the older-looking man, in his early seventies, remarked.
"Of course not," the other man, seemingly in his late forties, replied, adjusting the bags he was carrying. "Are you trying to buy up the town, Aashex? This is enough."
"It may sound like reason, but you just want to go back to that hole of an office, don't you, Dougryn?"
"Two things can be true." He noticed a shop with egg crates stacked in front of it. "Finally."
He walked over.
Aashex stared at him, then followed.
"I'll take three crates," Dougryn said to the salesman.
"Y-yes, sir," the salesman replied, trembling.
"Why're you so scared?"
"I'm sorry. It's just that we usually don't see you outside much, except on eventful days."
"I don't want to be out here either, but someone..." He turned to Aashex. "...made it a point for me to get some fresh air."
The salesman began packing the eggs.
"Fresh air can be good sometimes," he remarked.
"Perhaps, but the air here doesn't really smell fresh."
"T-there's a bad egg somewhere around here, so..." The salesman's eyes met Dougryn's gaze.
"Where did you get it?"
"The eggs? They're from—"
The salesman's head hit the counter.
BLAMM!
Dougryn pulled a clear bag containing tiny balls from the man's pocket.
"This is new." He looked at the man he'd pinned to the counter. "Where did you get this?"
***
"That's where I saw him," Ria said, gesturing to a space between two buildings.
Varen inspected the place.
"See anything?" Ozic called out.
"No."
"Good thing Aaniv and Rhade started on the opposite side, then."
"There's no guarantee they'd find him, and it's not really a wide net," Varen replied.
At the corner of his vision, he spotted a young woman walking by. A smile spread across his face.
"Hello there."
Varen walked towards her.
She stared at him, puzzled.
"What is he doing?" Ria remarked.
"Just..." Ozic sighed. "Give him a moment."
"Do you mind if I take a few minutes?"
"No, not at all. But do I know you from somewhere?" the woman asked.
"I wish I were that lucky." He stretched out his hand.
She looked at him, a faint blush on her cheek as she took his hand.
"Elidi."
"That's a lovely name." His thumb caressed her slender fingers.
"Thanks."
"Do you pass through here often?"
"Maybe, maybe not. Why do you want to know?"
"I'm just curious. I feel like I'd want to see you again."
"Okay." She chuckled. "Why did you come up to me, mister...?"
"I saw a pretty woman, decided I wanted to meet her, and here we are."
"So this is routine for you?"
"Would you believe me if I said no?"
"Not for a second."
"There's no point in lying, is there?"
"I didn't think you'd admit it."
"Lying to someone as smart as you wouldn't end well."
"Speaking from experience?"
"Like I said, smart." He laughed. "Say, would a smart lady like you know where I could get..." His voice dropped. "...a little pack of balls?"
"Hmm, I can't really say."
"And here I was, thinking we were friends."
"Friends? I don't even know your name."
"I'll tell you if you tell me."
She looked around, then back at him.
"I'm just thinking out loud, but there's a supplier nearby, just at the end of Varze Street."
"Well, I'm a very nosy person, listening in on someone's thoughts. My name's Varen. It was nice meeting you."
"Varen...?"
Elidi's eyes widened as she watched him walk away.
"If I were you, I wouldn't get used to taking that stuff." His tone grew more serious. "You might not be able to get any more."