With a crisp salute using his sword, Bret dashes through the crowd in the plaza towards the north gate. I sigh softly and gather myself.

After a moment when Bret is no longer visible, I turn towards the café with some trepidation.

Taking a deep breath, I move from Haldor’s statue, waiting for a passing wagon passing by. The horse drawing it snorts, tossing its tail. The wagon driver looks at me and tips his hat as the wooden wheels rattle, kicking up a bit of dust. I pass through the passersby to the door of the café, putting my hand on its door’s knob to turn it. The door soundlessly swings inwardly and the bell above dings like a pronunciation of my fate.

Pacing anxiously over to the front counter, set with its glass surface displaying various baked goodies that look more tantalizing than before and smell the odors of fresh baked goods and another more familiar odor, although it’s subtly different from the scent I know. What this smell most resembles is that of good coffee, a deep, earthy smell that fills your nostrils and builds up an appetite. Possibly spoiling the effect of the scent, a quality that disguised the smell, making it faintly resemble a cleaner’s aroma. I’m sure of it, there’s a citrus-like tint to this coffee-like scent.

Do they mix coffee with citrus fruit juice here? Why?

Moments later, an older man with a scraggly beard, wearing an apron over a somewhat fine-looking jacket, walks from the door leading into the dining area. Looking Ela and myself up and down with a calm expression, he essays a grin at us.

“Will you two young ladies be dining inside? Or would you prefer to enjoy the breezes on the veranda or…” He rubs at his chin. “Are you perhaps here to take home some of my delicious cake to enjoy?”

Ela’s cowlick bounces at the mentioning of cake and finally ignoring her anxiety that also kept her from looking too curiously, she crouches down in front of the display, drooling as her eyes fall on what looks to me to be a strawberry cake, although the berries have pointy-looking structures pointing off its skin. The frosting is pearlescent. Looking up at me, she whines softly, making little ‘eeeee’ noises.

Gazing longingly and sadly at the cake, she sighs, knowing that we don’t have any money right now for such luxuries.

Eyeing Ela’s reaction, the man smiles, chuckling. “Seems the latter.” He nods to himself. “I’ll fetch a box for you.”

Waving my hands vehemently, I shake my head negatively. “No, thank you. We can’t afford to buy, I’m afraid.”

With a raised eyebrow, the man smiles wryly. “Is that so? Why are you here to start with? To beg for treats? You didn’t look the type.” He eyes me with a rueful shake of his head. Turning his face sideways, he frowns. “I suppose both of you are sweet-lookin’ enough to make me feel generous towards you.”

“Eh???!” Ela looks up with a dizzy expression, lurching up to plant her hands onto the counter. “Really? Thank you!”

Rolling my eyes, I laugh, embarrassed and amused. I trot over next to Ela at the counter and gently place my hand on her head and pet her excited cowlick. “Calm down, Ela. We’re enough in Bret’s debt without adding more towards others.” I fix my eyes on the man’s face and seriously bow my head.

“The truth is that we’re both here looking for jobs. Do you have anything that we can do?”

Ela looks at me for a moment, staring at me as though deeply betrayed, her lips quivering. After a moment, she bows her head with mine, emulating me.

“Hahahaha…” The man claps his hands together with a broad grin. “A couple of cute girls like you joining my staff can’t do anything but help draw more business. Truthfully, it’s not easy to attract the right kind of workers, let alone customers here, and here two beauties have walked in on their own.”

“Bryant, what are you doing? If you can afford to hire two new maids, it would seem that you actually could manage to give Saria and myself a raise.” A girl with green hair done up in big bushy twintails on either side of her face enters. Her face has a calculating nature as she sizes up the two of us. She wears a dress similar to what Saria had on. Her bosom is flaunted by her dress’s bodice as though she’d had it specially altered.

“Hahahaha… good point, Brenna.” Bryant strokes his sparse brown beard that matches his slightly messy hair. “But I think for now, we should do the right thing and give these two a job on a trial basis as your understudies, of course.”

Rubbing at her nose, Brenna shakes her head and frowns at Bryant. “..Maybe we’d work harder with a raise, Bryant.” Brenna says with a scowl. “Anyway, Saria and I don’t have time to teach two new girls how to…”

Interrupting Brenna’s speaking, the door opens behind us with a loud ringing and I turn to see Jak standing there with his snowy beard hanging from his chin. He offers a cheerful grin while closing the door behind him.

“Ah, Brenna, my dear girl. How are you today?” He saunters over to the counter, barking a merry laugh and his laugh deepens as he notices Ela and myself. “Oho… So this is the job that Bret had in mind for you, is it?”

Taken aback by Jak’s sudden appearance, I frown. “Are you following me around? …Were you really headed here, to start with from the statue?”

Jak eyes me with a shake of his head. “You think I’m spying on you, do you?” Jak laughs and twirls his mustache between his fingers. “You think a great deal of yourself, girl.” He snorts. “I’m here for my morning cup of kofi and the company of these lovely girls. So it would seem you’re set on becoming one of them, eh? That ought to only add to the lovely atmosphere, don’t you agree, Bryant?”

With a thumbs up, Bryant grins at Jak, clearly agreeing with his sentiment. “Exactly what I had in mind. With the addition of these two to my staff, we’ll draw even more clients to my humble café. The gelts will flow and the place will be merrier for their presence.”

Brenna’s lips writhe, obviously feeling overridden.

“Please show these girls to the back, Brenna. We’ll have to have dresses made for them this evening, but what they have on ought to be good enough to wear for now. What are your names?” Bryant looks at me.

That went quickly and better than I hoped.

“Ah… my name is Hana, and this is Ela.” Petting Ela’s head, I smile. “Thank you for giving us a chance, Sir Bryant. I may be a little awkward at first, but I’ll do my best.”

“I’m not a knight, girl.” Bryant laughs. “Bryant is fine… Hmmmm… The both of you are new faces in Haldor’s Stand, right?” Bryant muses.

Jak grins as he speaks quickly, saying, “They’re Bret’s lovely houseguests, in fact. No one can really say where they’ve hailed from, but one thing no one can question is how attractive these two young ladies are, not to mention how pleasant they are.”

“They surely are that, Jak.” Bryant nods. “If you vouch for them, particularly given that you live next door to Bret, I’m sure he will vouch for them as well, that settles things in my mind.” Bryant turns to Brenna, still having a minor conniption on the inside, hardly contained.

With a heavy exhalation as though letting out hot steam, she bows to Jak, gesturing gracefully towards him, she shoots me a meaningful look. “Please come along, Master. I’ll show you to your favorite table on the veranda and I think that perhaps these two will be serving you today.” Her eyes on me become hawk-like. “I’ll be watching you carefully. I expect you to attend to me—very attentively.”

Giving her a serious nod, I follow them as they exit into the dining room. They lead us inside where several villagers occupy a few of the trestles in this room with an atmosphere of its own, lit by a hearth in evenings and mornings and day light streaming through windows facing towards the street and also towards a side-street midday. The hearth is still glowing in the corner of this room, faint wisps of smoke rising from it, mixing its scent with that of the mysterious coffee-like aroma. The fire that went out most likely also chases the morning’s chill to warm early morning patrons.

Passing through the room and out another door, we enter the fenced off veranda with a straw roof over it and more trestles set up beneath it. A cool breeze plays over my body as we proceed to a table with a clear view of Haldor’s statue in the plaza. Taking a seat, Jak rubs his mustache with a bright smile.

“Thanks, my girl.” He nods his thanks to Brenna. “You already know my order, but for the sake of these two understudies’ learnin’, I’ll give you it again.”

With a fake smile, Brenna reaches into the pouch of her apron, holding a tablet of paper bound with an iron hoop in a corner. “Based on your clothes, I’ll assume that you’re somewhat literate. Can’t I? Go ahead and write down Jak’s order.” She hands me a peculiar stick wrapped tightly in paper. Inside is a strange, hardened sooty substance. “Handle it gently.”

Waiting with her arms behind her back, Brenna stands off to the side, watching me with amused eyes. Turning my eyes onto Jak, I think about Kairi, how she dealt with her customers every single day with a smile.

My lips twitch, but it helps that because I’m somewhat familiar with Jak, I’m able to put on a smile. One that I think is probably too weak. “What can we get for you, ummm … Master?” My face flushes with embarrassment, even though I manage to deliver the question without much flubbing it.

“Aha… you’re quite adaptive.” Jak grins and his expression becomes serious. “A tamta muffin and a big mug of kafi.”

With a frown, I scribble those down onto the pad and when I’m finished, I show it to Brenna with a smirk, demonstrating the fruit of Japan’s education system. “But… I’m not sure if I spelled ‘tamta’ correctly.”

Looking at my writing, Brenna looks at me aghast. “What in the world are these strange chicken scratches? There’s nothing here that I recognize! There’s no way that Brendt can make use of this imaginary language you’ve come up with to try to…”

“Ahhhh… interesting. What matters most is whether she can understand her chicken scratches, correct?” Jak observes.

“But…” I frown, with a sinking feeling. Could it be that this country doesn’t have Katakana and Hiragana-style writing? Shouldn’t every alternate world or dimension have their own version of it?

“May I have a looksee at what you wrote, Hana? I wonder if they’ll make any more sense to me.” Jak asks, his nose wrinkling thoughtfully.

With a wry smile, I hand Jak the pad of paper.

Jak stares at the paper for a long moment and his eyes narrow at me. He turns his eyes towards the statue and hands me the paper with a troubled expression. “I’m sure this writing makes perfect sense to you, I’m sure of that. But if I were you, I’d learn a proper way to write our language.” Jak barks a laugh.

After a long moment of staring at the statue, he finally returns his eyes to me with a smile. “What did I order?”

“Ah-ah…” I fumble for a moment and look down at the paper, but Jak reaches out and covers the paper before I can recite the order.

“Don’t rely on that. It’s not so easy to learn how to write in another language, so try to rely on your memory instead.”

Thinking about it, Ela suddenly repeats the order, “A tamta muffin and a big mug of kafi, right?” She asks, her cowlick quivering.

“That’s right!” Jak grins. “Good girl. I hope Hana does as well. I suppose writing down reminders to yourself would work as well.” He smiles dryly at me and I blush again.

“I’ll do that. Thanks, Master.” While I’m bowing to Jak, Brenna laughs.

After a moment, Brenna speaks, “You know, you’re fortunate that your friend has a good memory. I suppose if you can recite whatever you write using those chicken scratches of yours, you’ll work out.” She huffs, turning away.

As I turn to leave with Ela, Jak says behind, sounding absent-minded, “I’ll be keeping an eye on you, young ladies. Your sword training, in particular, Hana, interests me.”

Looking over my shoulder questioningly at him, Jak laughs at the puzzled look on my face. “Why would my desire to become an adventurer be of any interest to you?”

Jak rubs his beard with a shake of his head. “Why, indeed?” He chuckles and rubs his stomach. “If you don’t mind, my good girl, I’m looking forward to enjoying my daily breakfast.”

Returning his eyes back to the statue, he smiles softly.

Bowing my head to Saria, I apologize for how I treated her, “I’m sorry that you thought that I didn’t like you. It wasn’t you, I promise.”

Saria, the pink-haired maid purses her lips and tilts her head. “... Um… why did you look at me like that?”

With a sigh, I straighten and look seriously into her eyes. “I actually think you’re very cute. Extremely, really. I couldn’t possibly hate…”

Something hits the back of my head. I turn my head and see Ela furiously washing a table, putting extra elbow grease into it.

Is she sanding it or washing it?

Saria practically has a sweatdrop hovering over her head as she looks at Ela and blushes.

“What I meant to say is that— I don’t really like wearing dresses, that’s why.”

“Why are you wearing one now, then?” Saria asks gently, pointing at the long shirt snugged around my hips, held down by garter straps over my warm tights. “You look like a young lady.”

“I-It’s not a dress! It’s a dress shirt!” I extend a finger and Ela giggles softly.

“Are you some kind of a princess in disguise?” Saria asks with starry-eyes. “Hiding your identity, seeing how people in Haldor’s Stand do things?”

“I’m not.” I laugh. “I’m just the most recent victim of the predations of the seamstress.”

“Oh.” Saria blinks and laughs. “That explains everything. She wanted to dress me up too and I said no. I thought maybe if I let her put a ballgown on me, people would think I was putting on airs. I think Brenna tries out some of her outlandish fashion.”

“She said that no one lets her dress them up.” I frown thoughtfully.

“She’s been known to exaggerate now and again.” Saria laughs.

As the days pass, Ela and I learn the ropes of becoming top-notch waitresses, although whenever I think about that fact, I cringe inwardly. I keep the image of Kairi at the counter in my mind and heart as I work, learning that a waitress’ job requires a great deal of stamina, something that Halima’s body lacks. After our shift at the café, I spar with Bret while Ela cooks to give the two of us as much time as possible for my training.

“Faster!” Bret barks at me, slicing with his training sword to land a solid blow on my shoulder.

“Hahaha…” Jak laughs from where he’s perched on the wall around Bret’s yard. 

Shooting I glare at Jak, I weave my sword around, waiting for him to attack. He lunges to drive the point of his practice sword into my guts and remembering how Vayne moved, I spin along the blade and jam my blade into Bret’s chest instead.

“Ugh!” Bret mock-collapses into the grass. “You got me this time.”

“Oho…” With a smirk, Jak claps, saying, “It’s almost as though you’ve two people inside you. You show some finesse now and again, while the rest of your fencing is so rough. What do you think, Bret?”

Bret sits up, jumping to his feet, chuckling. “It’s as you say.” He nods to himself. “She doesn’t show any real improvement, but her style changes from a rough, novice-style to a more flowing one. At those times, she scores a point on me.”

“I thought as much, myself,” Jak says. “I wager she’s seen a swordmaster fighting, wherever she’s come from.” He scratches his scraggly gray hair and absently swats at a fly buzzing around him.

“Let’s see if you can duplicate what you just did,” Bret says challengingly to me and with a turn, he slashes solidly at my side, almost faster than I can see.

With a gasp, I drive the point of my sword into the ground to intercept Bret’s attack and before he makes contact, his sword blade dances around my sword to score a strike on my shoulder. Pain wrenches at my shoulder joint. That will make holding up the trays of food harder tomorrow.

“Faster!” Bret yells.

“Who the hell does she think she is?! I want to tear off her head!” Brenna yells at the both of us in the backroom.

I wince at the vehemence of her exclamation.

“Wh-why?” Ela asks, adjusting her maid’s dress’ skirt.

That painfully reminds me of the one that I’m now wearing. The seamstress is scary fast at her work.

She fitted us again and just as fast, since she had spare dresses on hand, replacements for Saria and Brenna in the event of an emergency. With her skill, she was able to alter these dresses to fit us perfectly.

Ever since I put mine on, I’ve had a sinking feeling.

“She’s MADDENING! To think that a creature of darkness such as she walks this earth in broad daylight!” Brenna rages with flushed cheeks.

Saria mews. “Muuuu…” she mumbles, stroking her pink hair. Her eyes are anxious.

Brenna eyes Saria, taking a deep breath, she heaves a heavy sigh.

After hearing Brenna’s sigh, the door to the kitchen slams open and he marches over to us, mopping sweat from his forehead. He looks at the four of us and asks, “What’s holding up service, girls? Do we have a problem?” He looks at Brenna, the gloomiest of us four. When he asks her, she blushes and looks away.

“Out with it, Brenna. You’re made of sterner stuff than this,” Bryant says.

“There’s a c-customer—a new one—a total creature of DARKNESS! She’s a demon in the form of a— I swear it! Ugh!” Brenna exclaims, near to tears.

Oh, my. That bad?

Bryant blinks and scowls. “Tell me about this customer. What has she done?”

Swallowing bile, Brenna throws herself at Bryant like a damsel in distress, and based on her expressions, I can’t say that she’s faking her distress.

“She ordered a mug of kafi and some of that bristleberry cake.”

Bryant nods to himself. “A fat slice of bristleberry cake and a strong cup of kafi. Did she have a problem with the cake?”

Brenna shakes her head. “No… she says the cake is divine, considering its ‘disreputable provenance’.” Her green eyebrows narrow and she lifts a nearby mug with an intent and violent look on her face.

Stepping in deftly, Bryant wraps his arm around Brenna’s waist and gently takes the mug from her hands as tears roll down her cheeks. “...And she said that ‘the kafi fails even her.’ Nothing more than ‘watered-down equine secretions.’ ‘An insult to the very notion of the once proud art of kafi brewing in all of eternity, bringing irredeemable shame to this establishment for untold generations to come…’”

Ela’s jaw drops and her face flushes and she lifts another mug, whinnying. “... Ohhhhh!!! I’ll give her some upside her head so she’ll—”

It’s my turn now. Sheesh.

I step in as smoothly as I can and pull Ela to me, soothing her with a few pets to her head, stroking down her unruly cowlick.  “Stop, Ela.” I look at everyone else, saying to them, “I’m sure I can resolve this problem to everyone’s satisfaction. I’m a stoic kind of a… person… I mean, I can handle whatever she throws at me.” I wave a hand at Bryant, Brenna, and Saria and give them a thumbs up.

Brenna gives me a surprised expression and presses the back of her hand to her forehead, closing her eyes. “Please avenge me, Hana.”

Bryant looks down at Brenna’s face with a surprised expression. “Oh my, it seems my princess is truly distressed.” Brenna blushes and kicks her feet at those words. He carries her to a bench nearby and gently lays her down there. “Take a moment to gather yourself, Brenna.” He turns to me, smiling. “You can take over for Brenna if you truly want to try, but I think I should have a talk with her ‘Ladyship’ for her courtesy first.” He smacks a fist into his palm.

The demon with black-to-violet hair and a black corsage fastened to her hair looks up at Bryant with a warm, but politic, smile. Her dark purple eyes bore into Bryant’s. She conveys total control over everything around her, her aura that of nobility.

But why is someone like her here?

Two guards stand behind her, wearing shiny armor. Their armor has a sun insignia on them, the insignia of Alver. Having taken note of the presence of the soldiers, he respectfully nods his head to them. Meanwhile, the girl holds her hands in her lap, clasped as she sits at her table on the veranda.

“So, you’re the owner of this humble establishment. I can tell from the look in your eyes and the set of your shoulders. You have arrived to apologize for your serving girl’s poor performance, correct?”

Bryant takes in this girl’s appearance, her elegant black dress, one that puts my costume to shame, not that I want to wear any dress. At her side rests a black parasol with an odd-looking handle. Licking his suddenly dry lips, Bryant kneels and bows his head.

My jaw drops and I tighten my lips to cover my reaction, ducking back around the door to think.

He was going to smack some sense into this new customer, but now he’s bowing his head to her? Why? By the look of her, I think she won’t be easy to manage, no matter what I said. I’m not Kairi, after all.