Bread

Nerton, 1873. Unnamed Adventurer's Guild.

I charged, hoping to tackle him, but he sidestepped and grabbed my arm, using my own momentum to spin me and throw me across the room.

I scrambled back, the heat searing my face. The fire was spreading with terrifying speed.

Dane was looking around, trying to find a way to escape.

Gasping for air, I spotted a wooden box untouched by the flames and smashed it apart. I used one of its pieces as a weapon and charged at Dane. He looked at me in surprise before trying to dodge.

My blow went wide, but the splintered plank in my hand brushed against the encroaching fire, instantly erupting into a makeshift torch.

I turned back to Dane. He was trapped in a corner, his eyes wide.

So this was the real him. A coward playing the strong. But when it truly mattered, he cowered like a child hiding from the world.

I dashed through the suffocating heat, trying to hit him; however, the plank was quickly consumed by fire. It started burning my hand, but I didn't care.

As long as he dies. As long as I get this one win. As long as I don't give up.

"W-wait!" Dane was too scared to think; he tried to protect his face with his hands. The burning wood struck his face. Dane shrieked and collapsed.

The fire around the area started to spread even more, not leaving any room for escape for either of us.

I stood there with a smile on my face. My skin felt the burning fire all around me, yet I couldn't help but smile.

The building crumbled once more, and my vision turned blurry. All I saw was a mix of orange and red dancing endlessly.

I never expected to die so early like this, even after being given a second life. I thought I'd live for a bit longer. Maybe I am selfish; I am the one who wishes for death, after all. Marik's memories must've changed me, or maybe this is who I was all along?

But in those few weeks I've lived here, I've learned one thing. I regret my life, the old one and this one. Yes, I didn't ask to be born, but if I were born like this, why should I die like a useless person? The people I cared about will be lonely now, and my name and presence will be erased from history in a few years.

I should've done better. I should've strived for more. I want to be greedy and kind. I want to be able to live a life I don't regret living.

I guess Dorothea did affect me; seeing her doing her best in everything despite it all made me like this...

At that moment, I didn't realize it, but tears were flowing from my eyes. My body was burning, yet I couldn't care about it; Dane's screams felt like white noise.

Hitting the ground with my fist, again and again, ignoring the wood shards and the fire licking at my skin.

"I want to live..."

Marik died in the fire.

Nerton, 1873. Dorothea's bakery.

Dorothea usually woke up early with the help of Marik, but today was different. She got up from her bed, hearing nothing.

"Marik, you need to wake up." She guessed that Marik overslept; he was such a hard-working boy, after all, so this was no surprise to her.

Yet he didn't reply; it seems like he's too tired. Maybe stayed up late last night? Dorothea walked slowly, using the walls for support.

She became blind before meeting her first husband, and for a poor girl like her, it wasn't easy to live. However, he always cared for and loved her no matter what, because she was her, not because of any other reason.

She learned love from him, and she also learned the importance of living to strive for something.

That was the beauty of life.

Reaching the kitchen, she took out the dough from last night. She sat down on a chair and started kneading it slowly.

Bread. To her, it was life itself. An anchor people took for granted until it was gone, leaving a void like a forgotten memory.

Dorothea kept moving the dough faster and faster, not knowing why. But today she wanted to make more bread than usual; she felt that her time was getting closer, so maybe she should also teach Marik how to cook for himself.

"Huh?"

Tears started flowing out of her eyes, not knowing why. She stopped moving the dough. Moving her old and tired hands to her face, cleaning the tears.

But they kept coming. Dorothea didn't understand; everything was fine. It's the same as last night.

She was healthy; she overcame a hardship in her life that most people don't. Yet why was she here, doing her work, and crying?

Her tears made spots on the flour on the table.

She got up from the chair and didn't bother to clean her hands. Walking further, she stepped into the bakery. She still remembered when she bought this place for the first time with her husband, and after she became fully blind, she met that kid who tried to steal from her.

That stupid kid who didn't want to listen to her, yet that kind kid who would apologize for any mistakes.

That kid wanted to learn how to draw and go to school, yet she felt like she held him back, so she worked her hardest, hiding her sickness from him so he wouldn't worry about her. That lonely kid whom she wished would start making friends.

She stood in the bakery; outside, the sounds of steps were obvious—people loved chatting. Walking into their businesses.

Life was beautiful, yet nobody realizes it until it's gone.

Dorothea sat on the lonely counter chair and put her head on the table to think. However, she did feel an object touch her hands.

A familiar object.

It was an old iron pocket watch, her husband's. As much as she tried to suppress it, tears didn't stop.

And she put her hand on her mouth, her head locked onto the ground. Hearing laughter from outside.

"My boy..."

Snow was as white as ever, and people continued living their lives. They heard of a fire that happened in the adventurers' guild, but it wasn't a big deal. Monsters and unknown threats loomed everywhere, and they all knew it.

They were just happy to be alive.

When the fire started, guards came around and evacuated people from the scene. It seemed like someone had burned this place to ash; whether it was an accident or intentional was still a mystery.

That day, the leader of the Redguard gang and owner of the Adventurer's Guild was found dead in his office, decapitated.

An investigation was issued against this matter, with the Duke of Nerton standing in the town hall, looking at his people.

The old man had silver hair and a receding hairline. With blue eyes, he looked over the people.

"My people, I assure you that what happened today won't be forgiven. Whoever planned this destroyed a core part of Nerton. A way for people to make a living, a villain has appeared, and I won't stop until I find out who they are and show them justice!"

The people cheered as the man finished his speech and started walking back into his carriage.

At midnight, the city was full of light that came from a few houses. While others were asleep, some were living.

At the top of a high building, a girl with a black dress stood looking at the moon with a smile on her face.

Her red eyes were more obvious than ever, and the wind made her dress look magical. Looking down, she saw the burned building.

Today, she achieved her goal. She was sent to finish the Redguard leader off. However, she found an interesting boy who had the same idea, so using him, she finished her goal easily.

She had used the boy's rage as the perfect distraction. While he started the fire below, she slipped into the leader's office for the kill.

But she couldn't allow the boy to survive. A few sharp kicks to the rotted supports of the rear stairwell were all it took.

With his only other escape route reduced to a pile of splintered wood, the fire he started would now become his tomb.

Vampires could read intentions, which made them scary to the public; however, it was useful nonetheless.

Looking down at the remaining ashes of the burnt building.

A fire started to form in the middle out of nowhere.