The morning light crept in pale and even, brushing the walls in a soft gray glow. No birdsong, but not silence either. Just the still hush of early light, as if the town was holding its breath before deciding what kind of day it would become.
Joren sat up slowly, groggy and cocooned in the bed's sheets. He rubbed his hands over his face and stood, moving to the window. Dyer's Crossing looked the same as it had last night, idle chatter but nothing noteworthy or obnoxious catching his attention.
He dressed and stepped out into the hallway just as Willow emerged from her room, stifling a yawn.
She gave him a sleepy glance. "Weird dreams?"
He shook his head. "Didn't really dream."
"Huh." She stretched, then scratched her arm absentmindedly. "Me neither, I think." She shrugged it off. "Want to find something to eat?"
Gus appeared a moment later, hair sticking up at odd angles as usual, already tugging on his boots. "I smelled bread," he muttered. "Someone's baking."
Joren nodded. "Let's head toward the market, maybe someone is making breakfast already."
Morning – Downtown
The streets had a washed-out stillness to them, like they'd been scrubbed clean just before the world woke up. Pale sunlight traced the edges of rooftops and pooled in the seams of the cobblestones. Damp laundry hung slack between windows.
Nothing stirred too fast.
As they walked, Joren noticed how evenly the town moved, like a truly peaceful town that has never felt the affects of war or disasters.
A man down the street adjusted the tilt of a stall's canopy, slow and deliberate as to relish in the calm of the day. Across the canal, a woman rearranged apples in a shallow wooden tray, pausing between each one as if she had all the time in the world.
Gus stretched his arms overhead, letting out a low breath. "Smells good over here."
They turned the next corner and came upon the bakery. The same crooked awning flapped gently in the morning breeze. Theo stood behind the counter again, just as before. He was wiping a wooden board clean with the edge of his sleeve, his motions neat, unhurried.
"You're up early," Willow said as they entered the store.
He blinked once, then gave a quick nod. "Always am."
Willow stood in front of the counter. "We didn't see your parents yesterday."
Theo glanced toward the back room, then back at her. "They rest more lately. I don't mind the mornings." He pointed behind him, loaves sat cooling in neat rows, their shapes nearly identical.
"We'll take three," Gus said, already pulling coins from his pocket.
Theo took them without counting, then began wrapping the bread in brown paper. His fingers worked carefully, tucking the folds in at the corners, tying the package with a single piece of string.
Willow leaned against the counter slightly. "It's amazing how peaceful this city is, most places I've been to are full of hunters or Auspex causing commotions."
Theo didn't look up. "We don't have many of those here."
Willow raised an eyebrow. "None?"
"Not that I've seen." He finished tying the last knot and slid the bundle across the counter. "Dyer's isn't important enough for trouble, I think. People come and go, but they don't stay long. We like it better that way."
Joren took the bread. "That ever bother you?"
Theo shook his head. "No. It's better when things stay the same." There was no judgment in his voice, no edge to his words. He was full of certainty, like someone repeating a lesson learned a long time ago.
They thanked him and stepped back outside, the door swinging closed with a soft creak behind them.
The street still hadn't picked up much.
A pair of women passed with empty baskets, speaking in low tones. Farther down, an old man swept the edge of his porch, his broom tapping rhythmically against the stone. Willow pulled a piece of bread from the bundle and passed one to Joren.
"I feel like I should be suspicious," she said lightly, "but it's too nice out."
Joren took the piece of bread and nodded his thanks. He tore off a corner and ate in quiet, savoring the still warmth. The crust flaked just right. Willow walked beside him, the rest of the loaf tucked under one arm, her eyes drifting toward the rooftops.
"It's kind of nice," she said after a while. "Calm. The kind of place that doesn't expect anything from you."
Gus yawned as he caught up, still chewing. "I'd take three more days like this."
Joren gave a faint smile. "You just want a nap and a pastry."
"Exactly," Gus said, holding up the bread like a prize.
They turned toward the next street, where the cobbles curved gently toward the wider square. A few market stalls were opening now, one offered small jars of fruit preserves lined neatly beside woven baskets, another displayed folded shawls dyed in gentle colors.
Willow brushed a stray hair behind her ear and tilted her head. "Lysaire said she'd be at the chapel courtyard, right?"
"Yeah," Joren said. "We can head there after breakfast."
"Good," Gus said. "She seemed nice. I wouldn't mind her advice on what else to see while we're here."
They moved on, light-footed, with the bread still warm in their hands and the day slowly unfolding like it meant no harm at all.
Early Afternoon – The Chapel
They crossed a low footbridge to another part of town across the main river, the stones damp and lightly greened with moss. Beyond it, the town took on an older shape showing its age compared to the other side.
A rusted iron bell hung from a crossbeam nearby, quiet in the breeze. A wooden bench sat near the center beneath an ash tree.
Up ahead the chapel could be seen, its paint chipping sporadically across the surface. Lysaire was there already standing beside the bench, speaking with an older woman in a soft blue shawl.
When she saw the group approaching, she offered a gentle wave and excused herself with a word. The woman gave a grateful smile and moved on.
"Morning," Lysaire said as they neared. "I wasn't sure you'd come."
"We said we would," Joren replied.
Willow nodded. "Figured we'd get our bearings before the rest of the town wakes up."
Lysaire smiled. "Smart. The square gets a little busier around the evening. That's when all the boats and ferries come through."
Lysaire stepped aside so they could join her in the shade of the ash tree. "You picked a good day to explore. The humidity hasn't crept in yet."
"We're getting an early start," Willow said, sitting lightly on the bench.
Gus set down the bread bundle and stretched his legs out in front of him. "You always come out here in the morning?"
Lysaire nodded. "Most days. It's quiet, and the chapel's not far if someone needs anything. Sometimes people just want to talk before they go about their day. That lady you saw is one of the older residents who leaves me letters about her husband. He passed during the winter floods a few years back, but she still writes to him like he's just… late coming home."
Joren didn't say anything, but he watched her with a quiet attentiveness.
The morning light filtered through the branches above, dappled and pale, casting soft patterns across the courtyard. Lysaire glanced at the bread bundle.
"If you haven't eaten yet, there's a spot near the ferry overlook. It's quiet until midmorning, and the benches aren't splintered, for once."
Gus was already nodding. "Lead the way."
They walked together along a narrow path that curved behind the chapel. The cobblestones gave way to packed earth and low stone ledges, worn smooth from decades of use.
Beyond the chapel's back wall, the view widened. The path opened onto a sloping rise where a half-circle of benches overlooked the river's bend. Tall grasses whispered in the breeze, and across the water, low buildings rose in staggered tiers, their rooftops catching the midmorning light. A ferry boat drifted lazily toward the docks, its wake barely disturbing the current.
Lysaire moved to one of the benches and sat with a small exhale, her coat folding neatly beneath her.
"Most visitors don't make it this far," she said. "Too quiet for them, but it's my favorite part of town."
Willow sat beside her while Joren and Gus settled on the next bench over. Joren leaned forward, elbows on knees, his gaze fixed on the ferrymen guiding the boat in with long poles.
"What made you stay here?" Willow asked.
Lysaire tilted her head slightly, thinking. "Peace, I think, and the sense that I could be useful in small ways. I didn't come here meaning to stay, I was just wandering from town to town after an Auspex went wild in my village. Must have been a Harbinger or Cataclysm ranked, he was a truly terrifying beast that just rampaged."
Willow's voice lowered. "Harbinger?"
"Maybe worse." Lysaire gave a small, unreadable expression. "All I can remember was that he had an immense amount of guilt when he got control of himself, he just ran away from everything he had done. I can't say for certain if he intended on doing what he did, but I knew I couldn't stay there and relive that."
She perked up. "I'm putting a damper on such a beautiful morning, sorry about that."
Willow gave a slow nod but didn't press further. Gus was quiet for once, his eyes distant as he watched the river.
"No," Joren said, his voice low. "You're not putting a damper on anything."
Lysaire glanced at him, her smile returning but not reaching her eyes. "Thank you, Joren. How about we do a little more looking around the city? Maybe you guys will find that you like it here just as much as I do."