25/05/1164

At a certain house near the corner of the village

Samuel’s Perspective

My hand pressed against the front-door, and with a creak, it swung open…

A chilly breeze pressed against my cheek. Smell of flowers tickled my nostrils. The sounds from the world outside dripped onto my eardrums, giving me a strange sense of satisfaction.

Damn, that soundproofing is quite good. I wonder how mom did it.

Outside was a familiar landscape of mountains shooting high up in the sky. Their snow-covered peaks reflected the light from the sun overhead, dying them a shade of yellow and orange. Streams of water flowed down from the mountains, glistening under the day’s dazzle.

On one side of us was a forest clearing, while on the other was a village.

Thinking over where to go first while looking at the boy next to me, a place immediately came to my mind.

Now I feel quite good that we didn’t have breakfast yet. Still, my poor pocket.

Turning in the village's direction, we began our outing. Buildings had a similar makeup, stone walls with sloping wooden roofs. Around a few buildings were a few openings, giving access to the sewer system beneath the village.

Walking ahead, many people were chatting and doing their day-to-day business. Shops were doing their business. Carts carrying logs were rushing from one place to another. Men were chatting while smiling while returning from the mines. Farmers were hurrying about, preparing for the incoming harvest season.

That’s right, the harvest festival will happen soon as well. That’d be quite fun. No wonder it’s quite lively.

Amidst the lively atmosphere, we walked around looking at the decorations. After a short 5-minute walk, we reached before an all so familiar shop. With chairs and tables comprising most of its interior, the sign engraved with the word ‘Marseil’s’ hung on top, albeit tilted to one side as if about to fall. Sounds akin to a horse snorting came from within the shop.

At the counter was a man who would be mistaken to be in his 40s if going solely by his looks, his eyes closed as he slept like there were no worries in the world. His long, messy blond hair fell down the other side of the counter while a small trail of drool dripped down the side of his face. His brows were straight and his jawline was sharp. If not for his current manner of sleeping, his features would’ve made him look the part of an enigmatic master of some big shop or some noble envoy. Although he looked middle-aged, he was just a little older than my dad.

Making a fist, I knocked on the counter while ordering, “Uncle Marseil, two regulars.”

“Heu—” he woke up startled as he looked around frantically as he wiped the drool off of his face. Settling his gaze on me, he spoke, “Ah, Samuel, it’s been a while.”

“Yep, it’s been a while.”

“How’s William doing? Any better than last time?”

“He’s still playing the role of the senile old man.” I replied while shrugging.

Sighing, Uncle Marseil spoke, rubbing his chin. “William sure has it rough. That aside, who’s the lad with bandages besides you?”

As if remembering something, he closed in as he whispered in my ear with a sound barely enough to be heard, “Is he the kid everyone’s been talking about? The one involved in the incident in—”

Without waiting for him to complete, I pushed him back. Nodding, I replied, “Yeah, He’s Zack, one of my good friends.” Understanding the meaning behind what he tried to say, I grabbed the flow of conversation and changed the topic. “Oh, on that note, let me get introductions out the way.”

I gave him a slight glare as to say ‘Watch your words’, before turning to Zack.

Pointing at the man in front of me, I began the introduction, “Zack, he is Andrews Marseil. Owner of this restaurant, and an amazing cook. You’d be amazed at how well he cooks. But even more so, you’d be amazed at how well he can imitate horses in his sleep.“

This elicited a faint chuckle from Zack, who hurriedly turned his head away while shaking as he tried hard to hold his laughter.

Feeling a chilly gaze boring through my side, I hurriedly continued, “Uncle, this is Zack. My best buddy and I brought him here to try your noodles for breakfast. Also, please try to make them a bit mellow so they are easy to chew and digest.“

Uncle Marseil’s head went up and down as he looked Zack up and down.

While gesturing, he said, “Alright, have a seat, you two. I’ll prepare the usual in a bit. Please wait patiently for a bit.”

Tying his hair in a neat ponytail, he got ready to cook. Picking a wok from below the counter, he juggled it on his hand as he placed it on the stove. Continuing his show, he picked and tossed the contents of a bowl at his right in direction of the wok. Vegetables flew through the air, like a rainbow disappearing into the wok. At the same time, he pulled out a batch of noodles from the pot at the back, the droplets of water sparkling on its surface like pearls covered with morning dew.

With fluid movements like those of a dance, he juggled the noodles in his hands, removing the water from the noodles as before they made their way into the wok. Picking up the bottles of seasonings on the shelf behind him, he added the seasonings. And at last, he picked up the bottle of cooking oil at the side before spinning it in his palm to pour down the oil. In response, a large ember climbed out of the wok, growing and flickering as if dancing to his rhythm.

Dipping his hands in water, he kneaded and moved the dish inside the wok as the flame danced around him, forming various kinds of patterns. With a wave of his hand, the flame dissipated in an instant as clouds of steam filled the wok.

*Tak* *Tak*

Without waiting for the steam to dissipate, he turned to his right before two bowls appeared out of nowhere on the shelf at his right. Using a ladle, a cascade of a clear yet glistening liquid filled the bowls like the flowing streams from the mountains outside. And at last, he punched at the side of the wok before sending the contents flying into the bowls, separating into two parts midway.

Before the liquid inside could splash around in the shop, two wooden lids covered both the bowls while a man stood at the side, cleaning his hands with a wet cloth as he put a close to his act.