Afternoon Snack

It was a handful of days after the visit from the mysterious patron. Dain was both elated to have received praise for his efforts in crafting a drink, and sullen that the one who set him out on this journey wasn't there to see it... and as far as appearances went, would have aged considerably, assuming she was even still alive. A span of 20 years changed many things as, and Dain found himself sighing lightly. Only a fool would long for somewhat for so long without even a peep from them.

She'd forgotten him in the best case and he'd need to do the same. After all, it was only a single day, less even. But that single day, those few hours of quiet closeness, had left an unforgettable impression,, and felt like the most genuine connection he'd had in over a century. The last time he felt any sort of connection such as this had ended in blood, tears, and betrayal. It was the entire reason he found himself in the Emerald Canopy now, and also why he yearned for a real interaction.

Worse still, his scores of years existance made him painfully aware of what he was feeling. It wasnt a single feeling either, but several with varying forms. It wasn't something he could casually understand or categorize, despite having lived several human lifetimes' worth. Not that it mattered at this point.

Dain turned to his work, wiping down the lacquered ar top, a process now mechanical to him, and also one of his anxious habit, not that he did so often due to anxiety. Today, however, was an anxious day, and this was the 4th time he'd wiped the bar within the last handful of minutes. It was a simple task with few steps or things of note. Wait for the bar to be dirty, yet mostly clear of food, drink, or patrons, wipe the bar, asking politely amd/or removing obstacles, and wipe. You can skip a step or 2 if there was a spill. It was quite literally the simplest of tasks,so Dain was surprised to hear not the sound of 1, but of 3 shattered glasses, and the thunk of a tankard hitting the floor, along with their former contents.

For a bartender, or even his previous profession of an apothecary, this was an egregious mistake, and personally absolutely mortifying.

"Dain, take a break, grab a snack, or something. You've been acting strange all week."Eren, the other barkeeper on duty shooed him away. "I'll take care of things here."

Dain grabbed a mop and bucket and proceeded to clean up his mess, giving an apologetic bow to the customers he disturbed. Once finished, he took a seat at the bar. Eren glanced over at him.

"Take some time to calm your nerves, have a cookie or something."

Another habit of Dain's was nervous snacking. It wasn't generally a problem, but these last few weeks, he'd put on a bit of weight, though it hardly showed. It wasn't a habit he excercised while working, but since he was now on a break, something to munch on seemed like an irresistible idea.

He glanced around, looking for something quick to grab, only to realize he was on the wrong side of the bar. He got off of his stool and vaulted over, landing nimbly on the other side, with clearly practiced movements.

Biscuits seemed like a good choice, or maybe some cake. He was definately in the mood for something sweet and it wasn't just the sweet, warm breeze that caused it. He paused and raised an eyebrow. Though the tavern and the inn used the same kitchen, the smell was never that sweet, never that good. It was... strangely nostalgic, yet foriegn. Furthermore, the direction the breeze was coming from should've been a wall. It was simply not possible for a draft to blow from that direction, and so, Dain did what anyone understanding the oddity of the situation would do... he turned to look.

In a hazy window, the edges of which seemed to distort space, was a room. In this room, every fixture, object, and even the walls itself, seemed to be... made of food. He took a moment to process this, and at the end of that moment, his attention was brought to rather oddly colored hair near the center of that little window in space. It was... also familiar, and by the time he found himself looking for the face which the hair belonged to... the window had vanishd, as if never there to begin with.

He stood in a stupor. Every fiber of his being hinted and hoped that it was Ana. She'd lived rent-free in his mind for the last 2 decades, but these last few weeks, her presence encroached on the near majority of his thoughts. It was inevitable that he would think of her in such an instance, especially given how they parted, the same tear in space, ushering her away.

"Oh, you found a cookie. Hmm, that's a big one, and ain't one of ours... is it?"

Eren's words pulled Dain from his thoughts, anchoring him back to the time and space he natively occupied. "Huh?" He glanced at Eren, then followed his gaze, down to the bartop, and slightly to his right. There was indeed, a large cookie.

Dain's eyes bulged as he read what was written on it.

Dain, I still think of you. I hope to find a way out of this. You look well. ~Ana

"So, you gonna share that thing? It's clearly a bit much for one" said Eren, reaching for the treat.

With a voice that none had heard him use before, one that even Dain himself had forgotten, he responded, "Touch it, and your life is forfiet."

As all within earshot reeled back in suprise and fear at the dire threat made over what they perceived as a mere cookie, Dain gingerly collected it on a plate and ceremoniously carried it off.

He no longer had an appetite, and would sooner starve than eat the food he was holding.