The morning rush didn't last forever.
By the time the sun had climbed higher into the sky, the restaurant had settled into a quieter rhythm. The loud clatter of plates and overlapping voices had faded, replaced by softer sounds—utensils scraping, chairs shifting, and the occasional low conversation from the few customers still lingering.
Riven wiped down a table near the window, moving slower now that there was no urgency behind his actions. He leaned slightly as he worked, glancing outside more often than necessary.
Ellmere was fully awake.
Stalls lined the streets, covered in bright cloths that fluttered gently in the breeze. Merchants called out to passing customers, their voices blending into a steady hum of life. Travelers walked through with dust on their boots and purpose in their stride, while carts rolled by, wooden wheels creaking under the weight of goods.
It wasn't a large town.
But it never felt small.
"Riven."
He didn't turn immediately.
"Riven."
"…yeah?"
"Are you working or watching the world go by?"
Riven glanced back over his shoulder. Mr. Toma stood near the counter, arms crossed, expression flat in that way that meant he'd already repeated himself at least once.
"I'm working," Riven said, finishing the table with one last swipe.
"Good," Mr. Toma replied. "Then you can take this."
He placed a small wooden crate on the table.
Riven walked over and lifted it slightly, peering inside.
"…eggs?" He asked.
"Yes."
"These look important."
"They are." Mr Toma replied flatly.
Riven nodded slowly.
"So if I drop them—"
"Don't."
"Right."
He picked up the crate properly this time, adjusting his grip.
"Where am I taking them?"
"The bakery. Same place as always."
Riven paused.
"Same place I definitely didn't drop anything last time."
Mr. Toma stared at him.
"You dropped half of them."
"It wasn't half."
"It was half."
"Well…it felt like less."
"Take the eggs."
Riven sighed, but there was a small smile hidden in it.
"Fine. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Mr. Toma didn't respond, already turning away to continue his work.
Riven headed for the door.
"And Riven." Mr Toma called out.
He stopped.
"…yeah?"
"If you disappear again—"
"I won't."
"You said that yesterday."
"That was different."
"It wasn't."
Riven thought about that for a second.
"…details."
Mr. Toma didn't even bother replying this time.
Riven stepped outside.
---
The air felt warmer than before, carrying the mixed scents of food, dust, and the faint sweetness of fruits from nearby stalls. The noise of the street wrapped around him immediately, familiar and alive.
He adjusted the crate slightly in his hands and started down the road.
"Morning, Riven!"
He glanced to the side. A fruit merchant waved at him, standing behind a stall stacked with oranges and small green fruits.
"Morning," Riven replied. "Business good?"
"Better than yesterday," the man said. "No shouting nobles yet."
Riven raised an eyebrow.
"That bad?"
"Always that bad."
Riven huffed a quiet laugh and kept walking.
A group of children ran past him, one nearly bumping into the crate.
"Careful," he said.
"Sorry!" the child shouted, not slowing down.
Riven shook his head slightly, but the corner of his mouth lifted.
Ellmere felt… normal.
Busy. Loud. Predictable.
And yet—
Something about it always made him pause, even if he didn't fully understand why.
"Oi." Someone called out.
Riven looked up.
Two guards stood near the edge of the street, leaning lazily against a post.
"You're actually working today?" one of them asked mockingly.
Riven frowned.
"I always work."
The guard snorted.
"That's not what Toma says."
"…you talk to him too much."
"We eat there what do you expect."
The second guard glanced at the crate.
"Eggs again?"
Riven looked down at it.
"Yeah."
"Try not to drop them this time."
Riven stared at him exasperated.
"You've heard too?"
The guard grinned.
"The whole street heard."
Riven exhaled slowly.
"…Guess I'm never recovering from that."
"You probably will, it's not like it's something new."
Riven walked off before they could say anything else.
---
The bakery wasn't far.
The smell reached him before the door did—warm, rich, and unmistakable.
He stepped inside.
The shift from the street to the bakery was immediate. The noise softened, replaced by a quieter, more contained atmosphere. A few customers stood near the shelves, and behind the counter, the baker was already moving, pulling something fresh from the oven.
"Morning," the baker said without looking up.
"Morning," Riven replied, setting the crate down carefully. "Delivery from Toma."
The baker walked over and opened the crate, inspecting the contents.
"Good," he said. "All intact."
Riven crossed his arms.
"I'm starting to feel like no one trusts me around here."
The baker smiled slightly.
"You've given people a reason not to."
"That happened once."
"Twice."
"…details."
The baker chuckled and carried the crate toward the back.
Riven leaned against the counter, waiting.
Two older women stood near the entrance, speaking in low voices.
"…they're doing it again tonight," one said.
"The temple?" the other asked.
"Yes."
"They've been doing a lot lately."
Riven tilted his head slightly, not looking at them directly.
"Maybe it's because of those lights."
"What lights?"
"You didn't hear?"
Riven's attention sharpened just a little.
The second woman lowered her voice.
"People said they saw something in the sky last week. Late at night."
"Probably nothing."
"Maybe, maybe not."
They both went quiet after that.
Riven frowned faintly.
He hadn't heard about that.
The baker returned a moment later.
"All done," he said. "Tell Toma we'll need more by tomorrow."
Riven nodded.
"Got it."
He turned toward the door.
"Oh—and the temple ordered a large batch," the baker added.
Riven paused.
"Big ceremony?"
"Seems like it."
Riven shrugged.
"Everything they do seems big."
"That's true."
Riven stepped back outside.
---
The street felt a little louder now.
Or maybe he was just paying more attention.
He adjusted his hands and started walking back.
A bird swooped low overhead before landing on a nearby roof.
Riven barely noticed.
A stray dog sitting near a wall lifted its head as he passed.
It watched him.
A second bird landed nearby.
As he walked back he paid more attention to the town. The bickering of stall owners, children playing in the loud streets but something felt different about about today though he couldn't say what
Riven reached the restaurant and pushed the door open.
The noise inside returned immediately.
He stepped up to the counter.
"Delivery done." He said like a soldier giving a report.
Mr. Toma glanced at him.
"You didn't break anything?"
Riven looked tired.
"No."
"…I'm surprised."
Riven sighed.
"I'm starting to think you enjoy this."
Mr. Toma wiped his hands.
"Go get vegetables."
Riven froze.
"I just got back."
"And now you're going out again."
Riven stared at him.
"You're working me too hard."
"You've been gone twenty minutes."
He remained silent, but then went to grab a sack from the counter without arguing.
---
As he stepped outside, he looked around briefly
Same town.
Same noise.
Same people.
But as he walked—
He paused for just a second.
Not because something had happened.
But because, for a moment—
It felt like something was about to.
Then he kept walking.