A Light for half a Loaf

He really isn't moving, huh?

It's been two sunrises since we arrived at this drab and dry house. And since I helped him onto the stone bed, he hasn't moved an inch.

Well, I guess that's a bit of an exaggeration. He DOES move. To mutter to no one or stare into the sky.

But he's still blind, so I'm not sure what he's seeing.

I did try to observe. Yesterday, I sat in the corner of the room and counted fourteen thousand, four hundred and twenty-eight breaths from him.

Right! He hasn't slept either. Oh, this might be worse than I thought!

What could this be? What is he trying to prove? Is this a reaction to something? Is it a demon?

Grr... I can't think straight. In fairness, I haven't had a bite in weeks.

Weeks? Months? Honestly, I probably should've kept a calendar. Do they have calendars here?

Wait a second. Reaction. Week. Weak. Bite.

That's it! He needs some food!

"I'll get you back to normal in a moment, Paul, I promise!"

He didn't answer. But regardless, covered up my arms with my cloak, and I dashed down the hall and towards the door.

I guess they have a valid reason for calling this straight street. From what I can tell, it seems to cut through the entire city in a straight line.

And it's large enough that one could fit 3 comfy camels walking side by side. Yet... it's oddly crowded regardless.

No, focus, focus! Let's see here...

Coppersmiths pounding...

Desert nomads in dusty robes... actually, why do they have a stand here?

And I feel like I've walked past at least 4 people selling spices. The entire place hurts my nose. Am I on the wrong side of Straight Street?

Well, I did think that initially. Then an aroma floated near my nose. Bingo!

"Good day, sir!"

"Ah!"

Startled? Why?

"Why did you just appear in front of me?"

"I'm light on my feet, sir!"

"What? What's that meant to mean? Tell me now, or I'll call a guard!"

How in the world did this interaction end up like this?

"I-I was hiding, I swear it!"

"Hiding? Hiding where? Are you making fun of me?"

"Aye! Um... sorry, sir. I really was."

Maybe I'm too fast.

He surveyed me as my eyes drifted to the ground. After a deep sigh, he rolled his shoulders.

"I'm too achy for this. What is it you want?"

...

"Speak, child, speak." he asserted again.

"Right. I uh-"

"Come now, you were far more energetic when you first got here. Are you scared of me?"

...

"Well, are you?" he asked again.

"No, sir."

"Good. Then tell me what you want."

"Yes, sir."

Ughh. I feel myself turning red.

"I wanted to ask about the food you had on sale."

"Hmm. Good choice. On a sunny day like this, I'm able to sell my Soft Bread."

"Bread?"

That must've been the aroma. The toasty, sweet-smelling aroma...

"Yes, bread. I've got the best bread in all of Via Recta!"

What a claim.

"I see," I replied. "Can- may I have a piece of this bread?

He eyed me up and down again as he rolled his arms.

"4 Copper Coins."

"Mmm."

I searched my rags as his frown suffered slowly.

"You don't have the money."

"Y-yeah."

Using his knuckles, he stood up from his seat.

"I'll make this easier for you. Grab your Mom and Dad..."

He stopped midway to stretch his shoulders.

"And I'll be here. When you're back."

Mom, Dad... oh. Paul.

"Um, Mr-

"Lehem."

"Mr Lehem. My Dad is... well, he's bedridden."

From what I could tell, his face became a lot looser.

"Bedridden?"

"Yes, he is rather committed."

"Hmm. What kind of sickness?"

"He's blind, sir."

Rotating his arms absent-mindedly, he looked at me as if I had aged him by 10 years. I can build on that.

"His body isn't feeling very strong."

I made sure to hone in on a childish voice. So sickly sweet.

"Hmm. Well, I can't do much about his sight. But the latter... wait here."

He shuffled his feet toward the oven of brick and stone behind him, reaching in to cut a massive piece of Soft Bread.

"Maybe this will cure it."

Try as I might, I couldn't suppress my excitement.

"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Please calm down. Now, I'll wrap it up for you."

And so, I found myself cradling a warm, delectable piece of Soft Bread.

"I really, REALLY can't thank you enough, sir! Really!"

"No need. I have to do my deed for today."

"Oh! I've thought of something actually! Um, could you please close your eyes?"

"What? You want to rob me after my goodwill?"

I chuckled. "Obviously not!"

When his eyes shut (begrudingly), I found two things strung along his shoulders. Ash Monsters, small enough to act as lumps of Ash and Flesh.

Ugh. Mini Dregs.

Reminds me of when I first came here. These things multiply all sorts of aches and pains.

No staff needed here. I simply grabbed them in my hands.

"You guys are pretty daring, huh?"

With that, I slammed them against each other. The sheer force was more than enough to eviscerate them, as they dissolved into inky black nothingness.

Soon after, the sky went back to normal again.

"Okay, Mr Lehem! Open them!"

He opened his eyes and looked around. Far more bewildered than I thought he'd be.

"Hmm. I'm surprised you really didn't rob me."

"Do you get robbed that often?"

"Yes."

Huh.

"Uhhhhhhhhh, how do your shoulders feel?"

At first, he shrugged. 

"My shoulders?"

Then, he rotated. Retracted. He pulled them inwards and outwards, stretched and pulled, as though he was searching for something. 

"My shoulders. Girl, what did you do to me?"

"Why, I thanked you, sir!" I responded. "I thanked you for giving me bread."

"This is-"

He gasped.

"Are you an angel?"

"Oh, no, I couldn't be!"

"In this day and age, my girl, it's not impossible."

"Heh. I wish. Honestly, I don't know what I am."

"Whatever you are, angel or not, I know what kindness looks like."

-

Eventually, I arrived back at the drab, dry house. 

It's a good thing this street is just one long straight line. It's almost impossible to get lost here.

Hmm. I wonder if he's better now.

-

He's...

He's exactly the same. The same way I left him.

Only now, his clothes are dirtier. And his breaths... his breaths wearier, slower...

Right! The Bread!

I hurriedly pulled it from within my hood. Admittedly, it wasn't hot anymore. But, it should it be enough. 

"Paul..." I whispered. "I brought you something."

No answer. 

"Come on... just one bite..."

I tore off a piece and pushed it against his lips. But it plummeted to his lap. It's like his mouth won't open.

"Um, um, Water!"

I tore out of the room and returned in an instant with a wooden cup.

"Just a little..."

But the water merely soaked his chin. 

How... how is he like this? What did I do wrong?

I don't... I don't want to feel the tingle again. Please.