“Take one of these.” Albaer said and took up a brown plastic tray with multiple spiral grooves in the center and sides radiating outwards. He handed one to Raziel and another to Lialah and then set the tray on three steel poles secured in front of a long glass guard. On the other side stood a number of old ladies in white aprons with simple gray dresses underneath and black nameplates over the left breast, all were wrinkled and had some degree of dourness about them, almost daring the students to make their day either better, or worse.

Just beyond the glass, before where the various old gray haired women stood wearing hairnets and frowns, various substances sat which Lialah looked at with a dubious eye. She sniffed the air, it was hot, at least, but it smelled a little stale.

“Mashed potatoes with gravy.” Albaer said, and the first and fattest of the old women slapped a scoop of white lumps into a small white bowl and then ladled some watery brown substance over the top, then handed it to Albaer.

“Next!” She snapped.

‘Is this… food? Are they really serious?’ Lialah asked herself, the stuff Albaer’s home had might not have been fresh, but it was at least prepared with as much care as could be given, this… was one step removed from the slop her orphanage and school fed to pigs in their troughs.

“Uh, same.” Lialah said and with the noise of the wet plop from indifferently prepared food, she felt immediate regret. She kept her face blank for a moment as she looked down at the little bowl when it was offered from over the top of the glass. She took in more of the woman’s face while reaching for the bowl and caught something familiar. ‘Like the broken ones… in the mines or fields…’ It was hard not to recall her home in the old woman’s face, and it was a mixed bag of emotions to do so. Some parts, the brilliant sky with its shifting colors in the changing seasons, the bright waters, the endless forests and the celebration after every harvest… but the dark sides were not possible to ignore either. The wandering laborers of no home who struggled to find work. The miners who were never meant for a cave or the field workers or laborers who were stooped by years of lack of care after efforts that brought them little but that day’s bread.

She felt that same sympathy all over again that she felt the first time she saw an old goblin that could no longer walk with his back straight from the years of heavy burdens. “Thank you, you look nice today.” Lialah said and flashed the woman the brightest smile she could.

For a moment the old woman blinked like she was snapping herself out of a trance, her mouth moved in disbelief, like she couldn’t believe she’d been spoken to.

Lialah took the bowl and set it down on the center of one of the spirals the same way she’d seen Albaer do, and by the time the little tap noise of glass meeting plastic happened, the old woman smiled back and said, “Thank you. Have a nice day.” The old woman returned the smile given by the angel, and they each moved on to the next person.

Raziel was brash and cheerful, she didn’t really pay mind to people, but every gesture was over the top. “I will have… those green bean things!” She said, putting one foot down and standing sideways to the server, she pointed her finger down like she was a warrior commanding a charge. “And then… those yellow seeds!”

Albaer’s face began to crack, his chest began to heave, and when he saw the demoness wink at him, he couldn’t keep it back. He began to laugh at Raziel’s antics. It snapped some of the staff out of their own zombified rote pace to look at the curiously energetic young woman and the laughing young man beside her, “Ra-Isadora, that’s ‘corn’.”

Raziel crossed her arms in front of her chest, gave him the most arrogant look she could muster and said, “Are those not the parts that more corn grows from?”

“Uh… yeah…” He answered.

“Then, I’m right.” She said, “Yellow seeds they are.”

When his laughter finally began to die down, he wiped his hand across his eyes to clear the tears from them and answered, “I guess. I guess you are.”

A few of the staff, snapped from their doldrums by her antics, wore little smirks of their own.

They made it through the line with soggy vegetables, lumpy mashed potatoes and dried chicken with a slice of processed cheese over the top which hadn’t quite melted all the way, and from there Albaer led them out of the brightly lit building and out to a large open grassy area with lots of stone tables. Large numbers of people mingled together in little isolated groups around various spots, some didn’t even seem to care for tables, having found the occasional tree to put their backs against to sit with friends.

Albaer inclined his head to the left. “Over there are the more popular girls, cheerleaders, athletes, and their boyfriends. If you want to have an easy time here, make friends with them.” He inclined his head to the right, “Over there are the drama nerds, band members… things like that. I don’t know about where you’re from, but here? Here, school is full of cliques. Some people can move between them, usually if they have a relative in one they’re not a part of. But otherwise…?” He stopped in his tracks and looked once over each shoulder, “I sit over there. Maybe it’ll be no big deal because you’re just shadowing me, but I’d advise you not to.”

“Hmpf.” the pair said at once, and with no other response forthcoming, he sat on the bench at the gray stone table.

Two more trays hit the stone slab… and then just as Albaer was putting his spoon into the lumpy mashed potato, a third followed.

He looked up and saw Lisa sitting in front of him.

Raziel glared at the girl with malignant hate, but the human girl, despite a moment of being shaken and staring around her, leaned forward and whispered…

“You’re Raziel. Aren’t you?”