It had been her birthday last week. She still remembered then. Her heart ached for the memories she had long forgotten, songs and verses she sang with her brothers and sisters, the love that they shared. Now it was gone. And it had all been her fault.

The day before the fire had been peaceful. And beautiful. Now all that remained was rubbles, ashes and ashes.

The day before…

“Ash?” her friend Lao peeped into her tiny bedroom. Lao smiled as Ashwa opened her bright red eyes.

Mind you, in Grassy Plains, a main village in Elvendore had seen red eyes before. They do not think them as demons, since in their lands, demons can be dressed as normal folk. Sometimes you might see a green eye on a villager’s left eye and a gold one on the right.

Blinking at the sunlight streaming in at the open windows, Ashwa answered to her friend, “Well, I am awake. Shall we go for Paul’s Pastry today?” she asked, jumping out of bed easily, leaving the warm covers trailing on the floor.

“Your ma may let us, I guess,” Laos said. “Also, Solana might have a picnic next week and I’m thinking of going, actually. Since you spend your time in bed with that fever, you might as well go to a splendid picnic!” she added, striding towards the window and trying to straighten the curtains that flapped against the wind.

“I think I’ll pass. Still am thinking of Paul’s bread.”

“But Solana has his bread! She said she would bring it. And also, no one can imagine a picnic without that grand bread!”

“Fine, I will go. Wait for me while I bath,” Ashwa placed her right hand on her best friend’s shoulder, then walked to the door, feet tapping on the wooden stairs. Lao quickly followed after her, leaving the messy bedroom.

After Ashwa bathed, they started to eat breakfast with Ashwa’s family; Lao nestling a baby crow and playing with it. All was well.

Down the road, the two walked contently towards Paul’s Pastry after their heavy breakfast. They talked happily, laughing at silly jokes and looking at the flowers by the fields.

Grassy Plains was like a vast plain. Its name described the place after all, for the village stretched far and wide, greener than the other parts of Elvendore. But even then, this village is filled with countless villages, and divided, into twelve equal parts, with different tribes. The two redheads were in Vil, the village of bread. Mainly because many people from Vil had a special love for pastry-making.

“You know Ash, If I am all grown-up, I wouldn’t have stayed in Vil. I think I would want to go to a school, where students are taught of magic. But sadly, I’d never have a single magic blood in me. Only the Jink tribe has that ability. Maybe instead of magical studies, I shall go to the Starry Moor, Dead Forest and Sulu Island, becoming a traveller, and not a baker,” Lao sighed, then smiled.

“I’m comfortable in baking. I think I shan’t wander into strange lands. But I would want to go with you Lao—travelling might be much more fun,” Ashwa commented.

“Oh well, speaking of being a grown lady, we’re at Paul’s!” her friend cried joyfully, opening the door, the bells on the door ringing loudly. The two walked in, smelling the bread’s scent, which reminded them of home.

“Cinnamon rolls? Cakes? Bread?” Paul’s voice sounded clearly as the two waved.

“Cinnamon rolls please!” the two yelled, grabbing at the delicious looking rolls in a basket that Paul held. Paul smiled.

Taking thirty cinnamon rolls, they waltz out of the store, happy with the rolls. They also bought strawberry cream cakes too, which was their favourite.

Walking back home, they started singing. The hot afternoon made them sticky, but they danced and laughed, as their pastries in a sack was hauled back to Ashwa’s home. They sang:

Way to go oh Paul of theses,

Slices of bread that welcome me,

Way to go oh Paul of these,

That welcome me!

The song was sung over and over, again and again until they reached home, Laughing joyfully along the way.