That night the Stormvale home was alive with warmth. The long dining table glowed beneath the brass lamplight. The silver cutlery lay in a noble manner as laughter flew through the air.
Sebastian sat between his mother and sister, his plate piled high with roasted meat and bread with beans he hadn't asked for.
His mother kept sliding more food toward him with the stubbornness of someone convinced her son had starved through his studies.
"You're really thinner than when you started at the Cindrallis University, you father was right before." she said firmly, spooning more peas onto his plate.
Sebastian sighed while pushing them around with his fork. "Everyone seems to think I've been wasting away. I do eat, Mother. The university does feed its students you know."
His sister Aria , bright-eyed and quick-tongued, leaned forward with a mischievous grin. "But you don't eat half of it, do you? Probably too busy scribbling notes to remember you're human."
Sebastian shot her a look. "At least I am scribbling notes. What about you? Have you read anything beyond the gossip sheets lately?"
His sister gasped dramatically. "Those sheets are very educational. You'd know if you tried."
Their mother chuckled. While at the head of the table their father watched quietly as hands rested on his wine glass. When the noise lulled, he spoke—not in the heavy measured tone of an Archbishop but simply as a father.
"You've done well, Sebastian." He raised his glass slightly his sharp ocean-blue eyes softer than usual. "Graduation isn't the end. It's just another door opening. I hope you'll walk through it with some sense."
Sebastian proudly smiled. It wasn't a advice nor was it a lecture. Just a simple acknowledgment, casual but carrying more weight for being so.
He wanted, for a flicker of a moment to ask—Father, do you know about The Foundations of Esoterica? About Concepts, Cores, and Verses?
But as his sister teased him about looking like a statue in the graduation photo and his mother insisted he eat another slice of roast, the question seemed jagged and out of place. He swallowed it down while offering only a polite nod instead.
The night wore on with easy conversation. Little stories, gentle arguments, laughter. By the time he slipped into bed the weight of ordinary life pressed against him, it was a bit rough but grounding.
…
The morning came soon.
Sunlight slipped through his curtains pouring warm against his face. Sebastian's whole body stirred while stretching with a groan.
His head felt more clearer than it had ever been in days. Downstairs, the house was quiet. His father Frankstein had already left for the cathedral in the middle of capital Cindrallis.
He lingered over breakfast with his mother and sister and then returned to his room. He took up brown notebook close just yo open it and close it back. Today he did not write. His thoughts were restless circling around the dark green book's secrets like moths around a flame.
He closed his eyes whispering to himself.
There'll be time to write later. I'll be spending the next few days reading and deciphering this book, perhaps I might discover more things. I also have to meet that immature red head this Monday, he could've discovered something- or perhaps not.
…
Across the Norham city, Hawthorn Avenue.
Reinhardt's days blurred into routine. The tiring sword drills in the courtyard, the stiff lessons with tutors, the endless dinners where his father's scoldings weighed heavier than anything, but he was used to it.
Yet through it all, the strange words and phrases from the dark green book clung to him like a leech.
Things like "concept" and "verse" had already fogged his mind.
He almost asked once- over supper, when his father the High Priest Aldric mentioned the Church's ceremonies. The question rose to his lips but he swallowed it in the end. To throw "Esoterica" into such casual talk would only invite suspicion. His father wasn't the kind of man you interrupted with nonsense.
So Reinhardt swallowed it. And instead, in the quiet after meals or when Lucy fussed about the household his mind still wandered back to Sebastian. A scholar, a thinker—if anyone could untangle the threads of those words of wisdom, it would definitely be him. I think to search about all these things I need to find those beings, "Ascendants" who are connected with these things. I'll set someone up for it…
He passed rest of his days mostly training with original weapon- a great sword with black and red coloured patterns which is bigger than normal steel swords and learning some etiquettes for noble.
By Sunday night, Reinhardt had made up his mind about what to ask Sebastian and thus he made preparations for the next day meeting with Sebastian Stormvale.
…
The silver Moon set behind the horizon a d the Sun rose majestically.
Finally Monday arrived, March 14th of 1707.
The air in Cindrallis was thicker with mist and fog this time as well, the streets looked gray as though the city itself tried to hide something.
Sebastian walked through the misty street market, the collar of his long black charcoal coat turned up against the chill. A plain gray waistcoat showed beneath as the buttons fastened neat and firm with a black trouser down. His polished boots clicked softly on the cobblestones slick with fog.
Stalls loomed out of the mist. Fishmongers shouting prices, women bartering for bread, the metallic clink of coins ringing sharp. Smoke and damp earth clung to the air mixing with the faint scent of roasted chicken from a nearby cart. Despite all these fog or miss, the people still continued through as any normal day.
After all, had agreed to meet Reinhardt again after finishing the book. His satchel hung heavy at his side, notebook tucked within.
The rattle of wheels cut through the mist. A carriage stopped beside him, dark wood gleaming faintly through the fog.
The door swung open.
"Hey Mr Scholar!" Reinhardt stepped out with the careless ease of someone used to owning space. His grin cut through the mist. "I thought I would catch up with you here."
Sebastian blinked then managed a faint smile. "You startled me."
"That's twice now" Reinhardt said brushing his hand through his hair. "Perhaps I should start wearing bells."
This time Reinhardt was wearing fairly normal clothes like Sebastian not something flashy like nobles.
"At least there will less trouble this time", Sebastian said looking at his attire.
"And here's your 1 elar which I owed you from back then" Sebastian took out a silver coin from his pocket and presented it to Reinhardt.
"You didn't have to, I don't need it…But I'll respect your decision", Reinhardt took the one silver coin from Sebastian.
Reinhardt chuckled. They fell into step together. Even with normal clothes for this country people, they were standing out in the crowd anyways because of their rare features.
Their conversation drifted easily through politics, churches and humours-the kind of talk that filled silence without effort. Soon they got near where the bookshop was.
They turned the last corner of the market, their boots tapping loudly on the stone floor and the fog thinning just enough for the familiar crooked roofline to come into view.
Sebastian slowed as his left eye was twitching.
Something was wrong.
The carved wooden sign that should have been hanging above the door —"Cael's Read and Mysteries"—was gone.
In its place, a painted in white and cheery colours- was a round plaque of a smiling cake "Sugar Bloom".
Through the wide windows, side shelves of bread and frosted sweets gleamed under warm light and the main attraction was the beautiful cakes which can make one's mouth watery.
The smell of sugar and butter slashed out, carried on the same air that used to reek of old ink and parchment.
Sebastian stopped. "This… this isn't right. Have we come to the wrong place?" He looked around trying to scrutinise the area."Doesn't seem like it"
Reinhardt came up beside him with his both hands on his hips. His voice was caught between disbelief and a laugh. "A bakery? Of all the things. Unless Cael suddenly decided selling pies was more profitable than philosophy."
Sebastian stepped closer staring as if the painted sign might peel away to reveal the truth beneath. "No. This was definitely a bookshop. We both came here and also bought books here. It can't just disappear in a week like this!" His words emitted seriousness and disbelief.
A young boy ran past them clutching a paper bag dusted with sugar. The bell over the bakery door chimed as more customers bustled out, carrying cakes wrapped in neat boxes tied with string. Their chatter was fairly normal and careless, as though the place had always been here.
Reinhardt glanced at Sebastian and then back at the shop. He gave a short and unconvincing chuckle. "Maybe the owner had a sudden revelation that sugar sells better than knowledge. Good for us, now we don't have return the book."
"That's not important right now, we have to figure out the situation first".
Sebastian didn't laugh.
His crimson eyes swept the bricks, the windows, the threshold where he had stood only days ago. All the same—and yet impossibly different.
A woman carrying a shopping bag passing by noticed their stares. "Looking for a treat, gentlemen?" she asked kindly. "This shop here sells the best and most flavourful cakes in Misty Market. Been here for years."
Sebastian's throat went dry. "Years…?"
They just came here a week ago.
The woman only smiled and walked on.
Reinhardt fell silent as his smirk faded into something sharper. For once he had no joke to make.
The two stood there staring at the Bakery where a bookshop should have been. The fog seemed to curled up tighter around them and the mist grew heavier to even make the shops turn on their bright yellow lights as well as the street lamps.