Bird sweetly sung through the light breeze as the fresh morning air filled Celest still hoarse lungs from the fire. Horses and carriages lined the hectic cracked stone paths as the rich fled from Asin. Though those who had little to no money could never be able to travel to a safer town.

Asin wasn’t that big but it would still hurt the economy. Though soon a new town would gain the title of merchants’ town, but it would take years before it was on par with Asin. Still the poor overwork and injured people would still have to hunt down the people that caused three quarters of Asin to be burnt down.

Hopefully, the royal knights will come out in help. They at least would have to investigate as it many nobles were hurt. So, instead she sharpens the elvish dagger she found like two days ago now. It shined brightly when the morning glow hit is metal surface lighting up the engraves. Celest bask in all is shiny glory as nobles and merchants rushed around. To put it simply it was mayhem with a pinch of danger. With the panic spreading to surrounding towns many more will rush away from the site. Leaving people to fight over food and supplies, it just breeds chaos.

Carlos had tried and scavenged any of his things from the wreckage. Well, it seems that he was not the only person who tried to get a small portion of their belongings. Hopefully, Carlos found at least something from his house it may be full of bad memories, but he was freer here than at his home. Sweet smelling fresh bread caught Celest attention. ‘Did the one of the bakeries not caught on fire?’ Through the bustling crowds stood alone shop, like a mouth to the flame Celest stride over. Opening the rustic door, a familiar chime announces the new arrival. She was hit with a wave of warmth that Celest froze for a second.

“Please close the door we don’t want the cold air getting in,” a woman with the colour of the cotton-candy hair smiled sweetly. Man, was she a sweet girl; ha-ha get it? Anyhow Celest closes the door and strolled over the wooden dark-oak counter. “How may I help you today,” the woman eyes were like peppermint. Celest eyes wander over the treats in the display; this was one of the reasons she hadn’t call this a useless trip. They won’t find many treats in the poorer districts, as sugar and many other ingredients are quite expensive. ‘This poor lovely, sweet shop won’t be open for long.’

Levander eyes shone brightly at the treats that were so mouth watery. “You have an addict to sweets don’t you darling?” I mean yes, her mind supplied but Celest would never admit it.

“Hmph.”

“Oh, sorry sweetie. You do not have an addiction,” the sarcastic tone in her voice did not go unnoticed. Staring at the old woman, she pasted a smile and continued to drool over the different treats. It ranged from simple honey bread to cakes. Celest knew how to cook most of the treats the pink hair lady had, but it was hard to find ingredients and it would be harder now. Ringing the bell, Celest saw the black hair guard stride in… wait what was his name again? “Excuse me Omi?”

“What is it, Gale?” Right Gale! Again, the tone did not go unnoticed but unlike the playful banter it was hidden rage. “I need some supplies… please?” Omi seemed to cringe at him but still had that sweet smile on her face. Beauty was one of the few words that could describe Omi. Dimples and freckles litter her pale face as the smile took the spotlight.

Before Gale could say anything else Celest interrupted him.

“Can I have the lemon cheesecake and some oak cookies?” Celest knew she need to give the other two something, “and two slices of the chocolate cake.”

 “Of course, darling,” carefully she opened the display and wrapped the sweets in a cute, designed paper bag. “Come again,” she knew that lady was only saying it from memory. She would never see this lovely shop again. Dinging as she left, those large glass windows reflected the early morning sun.

Avoiding the chaos of the rush, she found Carlos huddled in a soot covered alleyway. He looks his age maybe around 13-14; still no talented kid should ever go through such misery.

Carlos had no idea what to think anymore. Meeting Erix and Celest seemed like a dream that was so far away. No one ever cared so much about him, and that was saying something. He knew them for what felt like a day and in that time that cared for him more than his own mother. “God, what would mother say?”

‘You are worthless! You were meant to give me power but he threw you out. What good are you if you aren’t a Cromwell? You’re just a bastard’.

What good am I if I'm not a Cromwell?

Hitting his head repeatedly on the broken-down stone wall, he hears the pleas of Celest.

“Carlos!” Her eyes widened as he saw the smile that grew on her face. “What are you doing?” Her voice calmed him down instantly, but he didn’t know why? Flowing like a dove, her hair the colour and texture of fluffy clouds, ‘she really does look like an angel’. Frustrated with the development of the situation, he finally replies with a pathetic voice. “I’m fine,” clearly, he was nothing but fine but Carlos just hoped she would leave him alone to his mind.

“Come on dummy you are not fine,” her voice was dipped in honey and glazed with sugar, why does he think these things? Ripping from her silk Victorian skirt, she gently put pressure on the flowing blood wound. Disgusted by the blood now staining the white ruffled shirt, he pushed himself away from her. “Stop! You're ruining your outfit!”

“My outfit?” Celest eyes wander over of now really wrecked outfit. Before soot and dirt covered it but now the unremovable stain splash over her chest. Though she stole this outfit because it had pocket, for the beauty of it. “It's fine. You’re going to be alright, just let me help you.”

Reluctantly, he allows Celest to bandage up his crimson that drops down from the open wound. Why did he just make Celest go through more effect? Why does she still care?

Celest’s eyes pierced through Carlos’s eyes to still see the golden burning soul. Without Carlos knowing his eyes quickly flashed a golden colour. No doubt about it. Carlos was more precious to her than a dress. More than a lot of her hoard.