The storefront they walked into, from the limited amount of light coming in from the room"s multiple large windows, was obviously a bakery, as the sign outside had indicated. Immediately to their left as they entered, and encompa.s.sing much of the room to the left of the door was a kitchen area, separated from the rest of the room by a wooden counter. On top of the U-shaped counter s.p.a.ce stood perhaps a dozen baskets and crates, as well as a couple small cabinets with gla.s.s fronts, each appearing to contain some kind of baked good like bread or pastries. Directly in front of them, and occupying the large majority of the rest of the room were a series of square tables and rough-hewn wooden chairs and stools set around each of them.

It appeared that several of the tables had oil lamps set in the middle of them, and for lack of anything better to do in the moment, Jack walked over, and lifted the bra.s.s top off, before citing one of the component words for fire, and sparking the oil lantern"s wick with a match-sized bit of flame from the end of his finger.

Immediately the flame took to the oil soaked fiber, and the lamp emitted a warm yellow glow around the center of the room, casting dark shadows behind the three of them against the old wood paneling of the walls.

After sparking the lamp, Jack slid out one of the chairs and flopped into it, setting his axe on the tabletop, and leaning back into the chair as it settled in a chorus of wooden creaks.

He was tired.

He hadn"t even noticed or realized it until just now, but he felt exhausted. Thinking back, it"d been an incredibly eventful day. They"d hiked an entire day, forded a river, and fought off an attack party of giant dog men. The fact that he felt so drained made perfect sense. If not for the end of it, today would have been one of the best he"d ever had. As it stood now, however, he felt defeated and downtrodden.

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As he sat there sinking into the chair and rubbing his face with his hand, Madeleine walked over beside him. When he lifted his head to look at her, he was met with a large pastry being shoved towards his face.

"Mmfh." She said, shaking the pastry in her hand. She had a matching pastry hanging out of her mouth.

Jack shook his head. "No thanks, Maddy. I"m good."

The girl just looked at him. She shook the pastry more insistently at him, until finally he caved.

Jack sighed, and then smiled "Fine. Thanks, Maddy."


He reached out and took it from her hand. It was covered in some kind of sticky syrup material, and smelled vaguely like apples. He brought it to his mouth and took a bite, and found that it tasted a bit like an apple fritter, which he liked. Much like sitting in the chair had brought to his attention how tired he was, eating the small syrup-covered bun brought to sharp, glaring relief just how hungry he was as well. He devoured the whole thing in a few ravenous bites, and looking over to the bins and baskets on the counter, he got up and walked over to find something else to eat.

Over the next several minutes, the three of them collectively destroyed a dozen pasteries, two loaves of bread, and part of a meat pie Rose managed to discover in one of the cabinets. After that, Madeleine made her way over to one of the darkly lit corners of the room, pulled a bedroll out of the bag she was hucking around, flopped it on the floor, and laid down. She was quietly snoring within a minute, leaving Jack and Rose alone around the small wooden table.

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