“Leira! Leira! Don’t go!”

  Bonnie called out desperately from behind. At last, summoning her courage, she dashed out the door and caught up to Leira.

  Leira lowered her gaze with a gentle smile. “What is it?”

  Bonnie glared at her, cheeks puffed in indignation. “I’m only worried for your safety! If something dangerous were to happen—”

  Seeing her friend’s troubled little face, Leira relented, no longer teasing her. She deftly steered the talk elsewhere. “How has your revision been? Our teacher said this exam would be rather difficult.”

  The change of topic worked. Bonnie tilted her head, thinking aloud. “Apart from Elvish and mathematics, which I haven’t quite mastered, I’m doing all right. But if that cursed herbal diagram analysis comes up again, I swear it will be the death of my grades!”

  “Don’t fret, Bonnie. Tomorrow in class I’ll help you—I’ve plenty of practice in that area.”

  Thus chatting, the two gradually left Dood Town behind. Leira had long inquired after the location of her destination, and with Bonnie to guide her, she had no fear of losing her way.

  As no carriage traveled toward Bayek, they were forced to go on foot—a trial for two girls of fifteen or sixteen.

  The farther they went, the lonelier the road became. Soon they both felt the strange hush that clung to Bayek—silent, uncanny. Their chatter dwindled into cautious whispers.

  Leira found herself faintly grateful. Had Bonnie not come along, she might not have dared walk this path alone.

  “I think we should turn back,” Bonnie whispered, clutching Leira’s arm tight, shrinking her head as her eyes darted nervously around. “This place is truly dangerous…” She felt sure that unseen eyes watched them from the woods.

  “It’s all right, Bonnie. We’re almost there—I can already see the town.” Leira too was uneasy, yet forced calm into her tone, speaking so softly that only the two of them could hear.

  From the shadows of the trees behind them, a single eye gleamed, watching the pair with puzzlement.

  The master spoke of one… how has it become two? Which one is the chosen?

  The sense of being observed grew sharper still as they stepped into Bayek itself, pressing upon Leira from all directions.

  They scanned the houses—dilapidated, abandoned, showing no trace of human life. Yet from the dark windows of several, the weight of unseen gazes pressed heavily upon them.

  Now Leira began to believe Bonnie’s warnings. Should some monstrous aberration leap forth, it would scarcely surprise her.

  Since I’ve come this far, I must see that gentleman’s home. Surely he would not deceive me… Steeling her resolve, Leira walked on with firmer steps.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Glen’s house lay at the town’s edge, so their journey was short.

  Yet before the dwelling came into sight, his voice reached them first.

  A strange, lilting hum floated through the silence—soft, yet distinct against the stillness of Bayek.

  “That sounds like him!” Leira exclaimed with delight.

  “The man who saved your mother?” Bonnie asked.

  “Yes.” Leira seized her friend’s hand and quickened her pace toward the voice.

  …

  Inside Glen’s home.

  Fresh from the cellar, hunger gnawed at him. Without delay, he set about preparing a meal.

  He trusted his cooking well enough; though the ingredients were meager, he could still manage a few decent dishes. The taste might be plain, but compared to what the kingdom’s poor scraped together, it was a feast.

  As he busied himself with pots and pans, he unconsciously began to hum a tune, even throwing in a few improvised lines of song.

  The sound drifted out the window. Next door, an old man muttered under his breath, “That restless brat again—how detestable.” Then, with a forced smile, he bent to the little dog at his feet. “Stay clear of him, my dear. Far, far away.”

  …

  Just as Glen set the steaming dishes upon the table and was about to eat, a knock rapped at the door.

  He frowned slightly in surprise and moved to answer it. Cracking the door, he glimpsed Leira—and a timid stranger at her side.

  At the sight of his face, Leira’s eyes lit with joy. Lifting her skirts, she dipped in a graceful curtsey. “Honored sir, my greetings! I failed to properly introduce myself last time. My name is Leira, and this is Bonnie. We have met before.”

  “That you truly came… I hadn’t expected it,” Glen admitted, mildly astonished. He had thought the girl too fearful, that she would retreat once the town’s eerie silence weighed upon her. He had even sent the beasts outside as precaution. Yet here she stood—more courageous than he had imagined.

  Leira, in turn, was surprised by Glen’s manner—so casual, so unceremonious, unlike any gentleman she had met.

  “Forgive the intrusion.” The girls stepped past him. As they did, Glen’s keen eyes lingered a moment on the shy companion who followed Leira so faithfully.

  To venture here for a friend’s sake… their bond must be strong. Once all were inside, he closed the door softly behind them.

  The parlor was worn, carrying a faint mustiness, yet not oppressive. On the wooden table lay plates still steaming with food. The two girls took in every detail at once.

  “Sir—”

  “Call me Glen,” he interrupted.

  “Mr. Glen, you haven’t eaten yet? I’m terribly sorry to disturb your meal.” Leira’s tone carried genuine contrition.

  “It’s nothing,” Glen waved off. “Since you’re here, you might as well join me. Try a taste of my cooking.” He gestured invitingly.

  From the moment they met, the young lady had shown such careful courtesy, as though she feared offending him. Glen found it curious, but assumed it was simply the custom of her people.

  Before Leira could reply, Bonnie’s eyes were already sparkling with anticipation.

  She herself did not notice, but Glen did, and a grin tugged at his lips.

  Heh. Prepare to be conquered by my culinary prowess! Behold the might of the Gourmet Empire! Straightening his back, he basked in his own private pride.

  “This would be far too rude, truly—we cannot—” Leira began to protest, but he cut her off.

  “No, no, young lady. Nothing impolite at all. Where I come from, sharing one’s meal with guests is the simplest courtesy. If you refuse, I would be most gravely disappointed.”

  Bonnie, crestfallen a moment ago, now nearly bounced in renewed hope.

  “O-of course, we would never wish to disappoint you,” Leira stammered, her cheeks tinged with embarrassment, surprise flickering briefly in her eyes.

  For families like theirs, securing daily sustenance was already a struggle. Inviting others to share food was unthinkable; guests, too, would never burden a host in that way.

  She could scarcely imagine a homeland so bountiful, so sincere, that such customs might exist. And yet, judging by his modest home—poorer, perhaps, than her own—he still upheld them.

  What a kind and noble man… The admiration in Leira’s eyes deepened.

  Glen set out chairs and offered utensils. Yet when the girls picked them up, they stared in bewilderment.

  “Mr. Glen… may I ask, what are these?” Leira held the two slender sticks delicately in her hand.