Breakfast

The sounds of the carriages woke me from my deep slumber. I wasn't sure how long I had been sleeping, but the candles were extinguished. I quickly got up and looked out of the window. The street was bustling and noisy with people and carriages. I noticed that all the horses pulling the wooden carriages were muscular; not a single one appeared weak or skinny. It seemed like they might be using some kind of enhancement drug or were simply exceptionally well-bred. 

I slowly got out of bed, only to feel an infuriating pain in my back. The bed was stiff, a discomfort I hadn't noticed yesterday due to exhaustion. I went to the bathroom and used the water to freshen up, paying special attention to my hair. Back home, I used to take great care of my dark hair, but now, I found myself with blond locks. I emerged from the bathroom and got dressed – first my coat, then my gloves, and finally, my hat. 

I slowly opened the door, the old hinges creaking as I did. I surveyed the room, glancing to my left where a window was embedded into the wall and then to my right, where I saw rows of rooms. My room was the last in the hallway. Taking slow and deliberate steps, my body aching from the stiff bed, I made my way toward the central staircase leading downstairs into the now smoke-free room. 

As I stood atop the staircase, I noticed the absence of smoke compared to the previous night. Descending the steps with deliberate slowness, I reached the ground floor and saw the counter more clearly without the shroud of smoke. There were no customers in sight. I approached the counter, finding the same bell. I pressed the button, and it chimed. A man materialized from the remnants of smoke, saying, "Oh, the new Nightshade, how may I help you?" 

Before I could respond, he added, "Oh, I am sorry. I forgot to tell you my name. I am Michel Nightshade." I replied, "I am Nolen Nightshade." My own name felt unfamiliar to me. "Do you have food? I am starving." Michel replied, "No, we don't sell food, but..." He pulled out ten coins and handed them to me. "Take these ten clints; you will be able to have some breakfast." I hastily took the coins, realizing they were the only currency I had. I thanked him, questioning, "But why are you helping me?" 

Michel looked at me strangely and said, "Oh, isn't that just common courtesy to help your juniors out? And if you are really worried about this, then do me a favor." I gulped, awaiting his favor. "Protect the civilians; that's all I ask of you." I could sense a smirk beneath his hat. I put the coins in my pocket, noticing an interesting symbol on them – a moon in the middle and a star on the side. 

"I turned around and, with deliberate steps, walked out of the hall. My footsteps echoed as I left the agency. Opening the door, I stepped outside to find that the streets were now ten times busier than last night. The city, illuminated by the sun, made the occasional tall towers with clocks embedded in them glisten. The streets, fascinating to observe, were of the old type. 

Slowly, I walked onto the sidewalk and found myself wrestling with the crowd for every step. I followed the flow of people to the right side of the agency. By doing so, I stumbled upon what I presumed to be the markets, where shopkeepers were yelling. The shops ranged from corner stands with a man selling a single item to larger stalls where people crowded to buy an array of items. I scanned the market until I found a stand with three people shopping from it. They were purchasing bread of different sizes, from a loaf to a small round bread. On the side, there were also cheeses that people were scooping and enveloping inside the bread." 

I walked slowly toward it. When I was in front of the shop, I asked, "How much for one?" The shopkeeper, a young girl with dashing black hair, had an annoyed face as if she woke up on the wrong side of the bed. She answered, "One round bread with the cheese would be one clint; without the cheese, half." 

I took out one of the coins and handed it to her. She took it and handed me a round bread that was the size of my two hands. I then went to the cheese section to get my cheese. The cheese was creamy, with a large butter knife for scooping. I placed the bread in my left hand and tried to scoop it with my right. I covered the whole bread in the cheese and tried to eat it in the corner of the shop like the three customers, which proved to be a failure because of the dust and wind. I went to the shopkeeper for a bag of some sort. She quickly gave me a paper bag. I didn't fully put the bread in the bag; I used the paper as a cover from the dust and wind, fearing it might wet the paper bag and spoil the eating experience. Slowly, I wrestled through the crowd again for space until I was outside of the agency. 

Upon finding a quiet spot, I saw no one again. I sat down at one of the many tables and began to eat my bread. The bread was fluffy, and the creamy cheese was so good that I almost cried tears of joy. With each bite, I fully savored the flavors. Upon finishing the bread, I wiped the cream from my cheek.