It was a glamorous cafe in the Second District, a few blocks away from the District Hall, and was known to attract the most prominent customers in the area. Not too grandiose nor acclaimed, but a possessor of a decent class and poise.

And, among certain underground groups, was known for its excellent handling of duck head.

Countless people would walk on the gray and white cobblestones, shiny leather shoes going in and out and with little room to spare upon the sidewalk. On the streets drove small mechanical machines, powered by crystals charged with Kinetically charged crystals from the Dijhat mines. Their humming sounded through the streets at a low tone, spitting out a vibrant set of colors from each different vehicle.

Nilbog stood out in the street full of fine men in black suits and gorgeous top hats, from time to time escorted by women with flamboyant dresses and faces that had more make-up than face.

A rough gray scarf, a brown coat with a couple of shirts underneath, and darkish pants washed by dirt were all he had to contest against the bitterness of the wintry winds. The sun's dreary gray light turned the world ashen, sapping whatever human warmth was left in his body.

Hunched forward, he pressed his pale hands against the lukewarm glass windows, seeing a world beyond reach.

The insides were cozy and lavish that the air itself seemed yellow and lustrous. The chairs were a bright yellow, embellished by countless designs of eloquent symbols and mythical beasts. They were enthralled olive branches that stretched along its golden legs, crept behind the soft red cushion, and expanded into an upside U for the spine of the chair.

The hot soups, chunks of beef, and sweet bread oozing of yellow cream entranced his eyes, incapacitating him in place. Yet, even with all the wonderful sight of food, he could not block the sight of his reflection.

A face white as snow, holding a few scratches on its cheeks and the bottom of the chin with bright red ears. It was unsightly, especially the black bushel called hair on top of his head, yet he had no choice but to bear with it for a while.

Releasing a handful of fog from his dry lips into his hands, his mind drew blank, drifting off.

Though the most reliable of his plans, it had not worked. Another day and he would risk getting caught by a patrol.

While he was technically not begging, and his attire was not too badly beat, he would still be considered an eyesore for the public, and be open to beating.

It hadn't been long since he had been in Dlair, but just like the rest of the human empire, it was a wretched place for the poor.

With one last puff, he readied himself to depart, to drift alongside the endless lines of humans. He needed a different method. It had gotten severe enough that he had taken a point of damage.

A heavy hand took a tight grasp of his shoulder, holding him in place.

Surprised, Nilbog turned with eyebrows slightly raised at the man behind him.

The man was no different from the passers-by: black leather shoes, black suit, and a dark top hat. His brown eyes, though, held a certain tenderness to them.

Jackpot.

Standing at 5.5 feet tall with a round belly and thick skin, he opened his mouth but was quickly interrupted “Sorry sir, am I being a bother? I apologize, I was just about to leave," Nilbog said, in quick succession as if he feared to squander the man’s time with his words.

‘’Now wait a moment young lad! Are you really going to leave after having a chance to dine on the food you were eying?’’

Nilbog, confused at the man's words, replied in an awkward and appropriate ‘’Eh?’’ The man in return replied with a colossal smile befitting his size and spoke in a vehement tone.

‘’I am in a mood to dine tonight, would you care to join me?’’

The boy stared at the man. After a slightly longer pause, the words sunk in, with it his face--a face of delight, of hot ardor, of a surprise full of glee, abruptly changing into confliction, a fair amount of puzzlement, and a whole lot of hesitation.

All the right faces.

‘’What’s your name, boy?’’

‘’I-I’m Nilbog. Um, thank you, sir, but-’’

‘’Nilbog? What a strange...but fine name! I wish I had a name as astonishing as yours, Nilbog, but quite, unfortunately, mine happens to be a simple and common Argento Danario!’’ he said, his voice cutting loud through the crowd as he extended his arm right hand, a hand that was received awkwardly.

Nilbog responded ‘’’It’s...a pleasure to meet you, sir, Argento.’’

‘’Likewise. Now, shall we head inside?’’ Argento grabbed Nilbog by the shoulders and led him in. He left a thick, somewhat pleasant scent of ink with each stride he took.

The scent tickled Nilbog little nose, causing him to almost retch, but he wisely held it in until the doors opened.

The aroma that was beyond the opened doors overflowed his nose with wonder and lust. With each step taken into the cafe, with each breath taken from the crowded tables, a new and splendid fragrance filled his lungs. He spotted a few good plates of sweet Bakewell tarts, a mouthwatering steam of beef melting in a soup that he could not remember the name of, and a shepherd's pie, which if his nose served him correctly, was made of Bearl meat.

Must have been expensive, considering how hard it was to hunt those things.

Argento and Nilbog strolled through the cafe, passing by a few tables full of delicious and foreign dishes. The cafe sparkled richly, from the silverware to the golden ceiling and to the very food itself, accompanied by a soft and soothing musical melody. Looking at the white, glimmering piano, Nilbog caught a glimpse of the pianist seated on a heightened stage.

The young lady did not wear a lustrous dress, as it usually went, but instead opted for a gloomy suit and black leather shoes. The curvy, dark orange hair resting on her shoulders was the only indication that she was female, as her chest was tight and her back straight. Oddly, she had two visible scars, one a finger long across her left lips, and another across her right eyebrow.

She played each note softly, tones quietly shifting in the background.

He needed to stay away from that one--something about her was off.

Argento smiled upon witnessing Nilbog's fascination with the woman ‘’Kara Dette, an intriguing wanderer. She appeared one day, informing Ouranios Hold, the royal training institution of Dlair, that she would like a scholarship! The gal of the lady!”

“What happened after?” Nilbog asked, raising two wide eyes.

“I do not know, boy. She did some type of test and all of a sudden,” Argento began, and then paused, swooping down a bit to match Nilbog height. “Wush! She received a scholarship and a high position in one of the armies. A lieutenant, I believe, or something. She was hot news. It’s such a shame, though, for her to only play the piano as a hobby,’’ he said, grunting in displeasure.

It made Nilbog want to sit a few tables away, but he withheld his complaints and sat in front of the funny man. He held the menu in between them, hiding as he glanced sideways at Kara. Just looking at her felt dangerous. She had intense dark green eyes, and her very presence seemed to stick out even among the birds flaunting their dresses. He felt like any second she would simply snap around, meeting Nilbog's eyes from out of all the dozen tables in between them.

The waitress promptly arrived, holding her small notebook to her side. She wore black pants and a white buttoned up shirt with a small bow tie below her chin, an odd red like her lips. Nilbog peeked at her, first at her eyes, and then at her chest.

Nilbog never understood the attraction for those two mounds of flesh. He knew that much, at least,

When she glanced at him, his eyes panicked and turned away. The blood of his cheeks resurfaced, his eyes rampaging across the previously vast cafe, seeking a place to hide. The waitress smiled at him and attempted to hide a chuckle.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

"Um..." Nilbog began, his eyes darting all over the menu. "Can I get... the apple tart? Oh, that's just desert? Then how about The Raph? A duck's head? That sounds awesome. Yellow rice? And...this spice combo seems cool, too, but please remove the shankle leaves, that sounds like a monster. Yellow bread for a side--yellow is my favorite color. Oh, and an Ent's Life Fruit for a drink."

"Of course," she said, smiling. She jotted it down on her notebook, straightened her back, and began to turn away.

She paused, Nilbog's hard stare holding her in place. They looked expectantly at her, waiting for something.

"How did you want your duck....cooked?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Thermally done, please, at minor power. For the sauce, I would love berry, but instead of red wine, I humbly ask the cook to make it with black wine. I take that this won't increase the fee similar to others?"

"Ah, of course," she said, though from her tone of voice Nilbog could tell she did not know the value of black wine.

Or which stores others referred to.

"I'll be back shortly with deserts," she said, quickly walking towards the kitchen.

Nilbog turned back to Argento, whose face was stuck in between amazement and confusion.

"I heard someone talk about that combo at work," Nilbog quickly said, scratching his back as he chuckled.

Argento stared, looking unconvinced for a few seconds, before he broke into loud laughter. ‘’I should have ordered the same thing, then! You work, young lad?"

"Yes, a handy boy for a carpenter."

"I see. How old are you, young man?” Argento asked, leaning forward over the tableware.

“I’m fifteen, I believe, sir,” he replied, still staring at the waitress. Maybe if he looked enough he'll understand what the fuss was all about.

“You believe? Did your parents not teach you to count with your little fingers and toes?” Argento asked, laughing again. His entire body shook in motion, his the meat below his chin juggling slightly.

The waitress entered the kitchen, causing Nilbog to look back at Argento with a dejected look. “They’re dead, sir. Lost in some war I can’t remember,” he said.

Argento’s laughter stopped midway in his throat, causing him to cough a few times. “Apologizes. It is common around here, with all the expansion and conflict birthed from it. We’ve been having...some overpopulation issues. But let’s speak of more merry subjects! This cafe is absolutely exquisite! You see that crystal chandelier up there? It’s quite expensive to work, constructed from discharged Obleeks, crystals that transfers energy rather than store it, and linked in gold, a very transmissive metal, and hardened silver to adjoined with the...’’

Ignoring the fat man's rumbling, Nilbog surveyed the dishes around him, his eyes lingering longer on the more attractive of them. He tugged at his mouth, smiling slightly, his voice small and smooth, nodding and awing whenever the need arose, and bide his time as his meal arrived.

It was becoming discomfortingly hot, under all his layers, but he did not want to take them off. He swallowed, his lips dry. He let himself be drawn to the piano’s tune, its keys striking through the numbness growing at the edges of his skin.

It rose, turbulent and uncontested, slipping past the crowd’s incessant buzzing. It wasn't loud; it simply cut through everything, drowning out all of the pointless sounds. He could almost see the music appear around him, whisking away the world around him.