In the mystical realm of the White Kingdom, citizens begin to awaken extraordinary magical powers - and some even twice, with enough determination. This surge of supernatural abilities unsettles the ruling class, who initiate a dark era of witch hun...
The youth gazed long at the retreating silhouette, beauty and transience of happiness slipping away from his sight. Ah, if only he had not lied about the purpose of his journey if only he could muster the courage to confess his truth... The lad had no choice but to wish his unexpected benefactress good fortune, for her path was fraught with no less peril. The Inquisitors believed that the most beautiful women were the most dangerous foes. This had a positive impact on the motivation of witch hunters but a severely detrimental effect on the genetic diversity of the nation.
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Fortunately, there were no gallows outside of Haukidor; perhaps the flames of madness had not yet reached the country's outskirts. Nevertheless, the lad chose not to gamble, continuing to conceal his miraculous awakening.
Meandering through narrow alleys, he decided to continue his journey at dawn the next day. But, for now, it was prudent to purchase some provisions. Thus, he sought out the local market, acquiring a small wheel of cheese and some salted fish, which was relatively cheap in a town by a lake. Then, his gaze fell upon a bakery counter reminiscent of the one Isidore used to manage.
"Buy some pies!" A jovial and insistent cry rang out from a young girl standing at the counter.
Ray bought an apple pie, which was fresh yet bland and undercooked inside.
"My grandfather also makes pies," the boy noted, his expression clearly indicating his disappointment with the treat.
Ray handed her a pear pie, his favorite. These were the finest pears in Els, slow-cooked in creamy butter and honey, with cinnamon, black currants, and nuts. The delicate pastry was crispy and would melt in one's mouth.
"Ew, this is disgusting," the girl grimaced, devoured the pie with gusto. As the lad was about to take his leave, she finally added, "If you want, you can show your pies to my father."
"I don't want to," Ray retorted sarcastically, leaving the market incredibly proud of his pies.
Stumbling upon the first tavern, the lad got a tiny room. Despite having spent the better part of the day in the open air, he found himself utterly exhausted and promptly fell into a deep slumber, oblivious to the noise and merriment of the tavern. Come morning, he wandered through the market again, only to find the bakery stall absent. Presumably, the girl's family did not bake large batches of bread daily.
Deep in his heart, Raymond dearly wished his lie could become true — that he had indeed come to Haukidor to peddle pies. The local bakers would certainly accept him. He would become a master pastry chef and a wealthy merchant, and one day, he would build a home of his own. However, spotting a guard scrutinizing him suspiciously, the boy resumed his journey. He had no desire to attract undue attention. His unfamiliar face, large backpack, and young age acted as a magnet to the bored townsfolk.
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