As we got inside, the town was full of shops and vendors. The sheer volume of people, commerce, and architecture was absolutely staggering, a massive shift from the quiet, open wilderness we had been traveling through for days. The city was a labyrinth of paved stone streets, and every single inch of available space seemed to be dedicated to the culinary arts. Massive wooden stalls with brightly colored fabric awnings lined the wide roads, creating a canopy of vibrant reds, blues, and golds. Thick, white steam plumed from heavy iron grills where vendors were roasting massive cuts of meat, the fat sizzling and popping loudly as it dripped onto the glowing hot coals below. Next to the butchers, bakers pulled giant, crusty loaves of bread from deep brick ovens, the comforting smell of yeast and warm flour mixing with the sharp, heavy aroma of garlic, roasted peppers, and exotic spices. Glass windows belonging to high-end bakeries displayed intricate pastries, pies, and multi-tiered cakes decorated with delicate spun sugar that caught the light of the street lamps.
The noise was just as intense as the overwhelming smells. Merchants shouted out their prices at the top of their lungs, trying to draw the attention of the wealthy nobles, merchants, and travelers who crowded the thoroughfares. The clinking of coins, the rhythmic chopping of heavy steel knives on wooden butcher boards, and the constant, buzzing hum of thousands of conversations created a solid wall of sound. We stepped out of the carriage to stretch our legs, taking in the massive scale of the place. We were finally in the famous Town of the Culinary, surrounded by an endless sea of shops, food stands, and bustling crowds. It was a chaotic, beautiful, and overwhelming environment.
We stood near the carriage for a moment, letting the horses rest as we looked down the winding streets and the towering stone buildings that housed even more restaurants and bustling indoor markets. I turned to Ishighi, fully expecting him to point us in the right direction, perhaps toward the royal guards' outpost or a specific high-end establishment where the monarch might be holding court. Instead, Ishighi simply looked around the crowded street, observing the endless flood of people and the chaotic storefronts with his usual calm, polite expression. He put his hands in his pockets, looked back at me, and casually mentioned that now, he doesn't know where exactly the king is.
He delivered this piece of information with the exact same relaxed, flat tone he would use to comment on the weather or the color of the sky. He had known the king was in the town, but given the sheer size of the sprawling metropolis and the thousands of opulent places a royal could be hiding or dining, the exact location was suddenly a complete mystery to him.
There was a brief moment of silence among the group as his words processed. We had rushed all this way at a blistering, breakneck pace, driven by the urgency of his information, only to arrive and realize we had to search a massive, sprawling city completely from scratch. The absurdity of the situation hit us all at once. We just chuckled. It wasn't a laugh of frustration or anger, but a shared, collective amusement at how anti-climactic our grand arrival had turned out to be. Sir Vael shook his head with a wide, hearty grin, while Alea and Zhandra exchanged amused, knowing glances. It was entirely fitting for our journey so far. Without a specific destination to march toward, the immediate priority naturally shifted. The sun had set completely, the street lamps were burning bright, and we were all exhausted from the violent rocking of the carriage. We decided that it would be best to figure out our living situation before we did anything else. We looked for an inn first to stay while we try to find the king.
We started walking down the crowded stone streets, leading the four horses and the heavy carriage slowly through the dense masses of people. The objective was simple: find a quiet, clean place with comfortable beds and a safe stable for the animals. However, maintaining the cohesion of the group proved to be incredibly difficult in this specific environment. The moment we started walking past the active food stalls and the open kitchen windows, the temptation became far too much for some members of our party.
Almost immediately, Euphyne disappeared. One second he was walking right behind Sir Vael, complaining about how his legs were stiff, and the next second, he had vanished completely into a crowd of people gathered around a large roasting pit. A few minutes later, he appeared out of nowhere, popping up right beside me. He was holding five large wooden skewers stacked with thick, honey-glazed chunks of beef and blistered vegetables. He had a massive, greasy smile on his face. He took a huge bite, chewed happily with a look of pure bliss, and then disappeared again as we passed a stall selling fried dough balls covered in powdered sugar and cinnamon.
This became a continuous, predictable cycle. As we walked down the bustling street, Euphyne disappeared and appeared over and over again because he is getting food and more food. Every single time he popped back into the group, his hands were full of something entirely new and incredibly fragrant. He brought back a whole roasted fowl dripping with savory juices, a paper bag filled to the brim with spiced, roasted nuts, and a steaming ceramic bowl of thick, spicy noodles. He was eating at a pace that seemed physically impossible, taking full, unrestricted advantage of the town's legendary reputation. He was a blur of motion, vanishing into the crowds and returning with a new culinary prize every few minutes.
He wasn't the only one completely lost to the culinary temptations. Tokine was equally overwhelmed by the sights and smells, though her focus was entirely dedicated to the sweets, desserts, and baked goods. Unlike Euphyne, who moved through the crowds like a ghost to grab his food, Tokine required an anchor to help her carry her haul. Tokine disappeared and appeared exactly like Euphyne, but she was dragging Celdrich with her.
Every time her eyes spotted a brightly lit window filled with cakes, candied fruits, or chocolate tarts, she grabbed Celdrich firmly by his sleeve or his arm and pulled him along with her into the throng of people. Celdrich, despite his normally serious demeanor, his sharp instincts, and his katana, seemed completely helpless against her sudden bursts of determined strength. We would watch Tokine enthusiastically drag him into a bakery, leaving him standing awkwardly by the doorway while she pointed rapidly at various delicate treats behind the glass. Minutes later, they would reappear. Tokine would happily be holding small bags of sweet buns, and Celdrich would be holding whatever overflow she couldn't carry. He walked back to the group holding pink boxes tied with ribbons and paper wrapped around sugar cookies. He looked slightly embarrassed by the situation but didn't utter a single complaint, simply following her as she immediately dragged him toward the next vendor selling honey-drizzled pastries.
It took us a considerable amount of time to navigate the busy streets, mostly because we had to keep stopping the carriage to wait for Euphyne to finish chewing a mouthful of pork or for Tokine to finish purchasing yet another expensive fruit tart, but eventually, we found a suitable place. It was a large, beautifully constructed inn made of dark stained wood and bright white plaster, located just off one of the quieter main market squares. The painted sign above the heavy oak door indicated it had plenty of large rooms and a secure, spacious stable out back for the carriage and horses.
We walked into the lobby, which smelled pleasantly of dried lavender, beeswax wood polish, and clean linen—a very nice, calming break from the heavy, chaotic food smells outside. The interior was warm and inviting, lit by a large, crackling stone fireplace in the corner, and furnished with comfortable, plush leather chairs and polished wooden tables.
We approached the long wooden counter where the innkeeper, an older man with a friendly smile, was waiting. Before Sir Vael or I could even reach into our cloaks to pull out our bags of coins to handle the accommodations, Elphyete stepped forward. She moved with a quick, decisive grace, slipping past the rest of us to reach the counter first. Without a single word of hesitation or discussion, Elphyete paid for everyone to get their room. She placed enough high-value currency on the counter to secure the best, most comfortable lodgings for the entire group, organizing who would stay where with the innkeeper and collecting the heavy metal keys. It was a generous, highly efficient move, ensuring that we didn't have to spend any more time standing around the lobby debating the costs. The group thanked her warmly—Euphyne doing so with his words slightly muffled by a meat bun he had saved from his last disappearance—and we all finally headed upstairs to wash up and rest our tired bodies.
The inn was grand, and the upstairs hallways were lined with thick, patterned carpets that completely muffled our footsteps. Elphyete and I were sharing one of the larger rooms positioned at the very end of the long hall. The moment I unlocked the heavy wooden door with the metal key and we stepped inside, the atmosphere between us shifted completely. The room was spacious, warm, and spotless, featuring a large, incredibly soft-looking bed in the center, a small wooden writing table by the window, and a porcelain washbasin in the corner. The thick curtains were already drawn, shutting out the noise, the smells, and the bright lights of the culinary town outside, creating a perfectly private sanctuary.
The second the door clicked shut and locked behind us, the professional, composed, and generous facade Elphyete had worn downstairs completely evaporated. When Elphyete and I were in our room, she instantly became as clingy as possible. Before I could even take my heavy cloak off, set my travel bag down on the wooden chair, or even take a proper breath, she was there. She closed the distance between us in a fraction of a second and wrapped both of her arms incredibly tightly around my waist from behind, pressing her face firmly and deeply into my back. I could feel her taking a deep breath, letting out a long, contented sigh that vibrated against my shirt.
"We're finally alone," she mumbled softly against my back, her voice muffled by the fabric.
I chuckled softly, trying to gently turn around, but she tightened her iron grip, absolutely refusing to let me move an inch. "Elphyete, I need to take my boots off at least."
"You can take them off later," she insisted, her voice incredibly stubborn. She slowly and carefully shuffled her feet around to my front, completely refusing to break physical contact with me as she moved. Once she was facing me, she immediately wrapped her arms securely around my neck, pulling herself flush against my chest. She buried her face deeply into the crook of my neck, her soft silver hair spilling over my shoulders and cascading down my back. She was holding onto me so tightly that I could feel the rapid, happy beat of her heart pressing against my own chest. It was as if she was desperately trying to make up for all the long hours she had to spend sitting politely and maintaining her distance in the carriage while the others were watching us.
I managed to awkwardly reach down and untie the laces of my boots, kicking them off my feet while fully supporting her weight against me. She didn't offer any help whatsoever; she just kept nuzzling her soft face into my neck and holding on as if I might suddenly vanish into thin air like Euphyne did in the market. Every single time I tried to create even a fraction of an inch of space so I could walk us toward the center of the room, she would let out a small, protesting whine and pull herself even closer, wrapping her legs slightly around mine to prevent me from stepping away.
"You are being completely ridiculous right now," I told her, smiling widely as I carefully and slowly walked us both toward the large bed. It was exactly like carrying a very warm, very affectionate, and very determined anchor.
"I don't care at all," she whispered against my skin, her breath warm. "I paid for the rooms downstairs. That means I get to do exactly what I want tonight. And I want to hold you. I don't want to let go."
We finally reached the edge of the large bed. I fell backward onto the soft, forgiving mattress, bringing her down right on top of me. She didn't let go for a single second during the fall. Instead, she immediately adjusted her position on the bed, throwing one of her legs entirely over mine to pin me down and resting her head squarely on my chest. Her arms remained locked securely and possessively around my torso. The bed was incredibly comfortable, the thick, down-filled blankets providing a perfect, cozy barrier against the slight chill of the night air creeping into the room.
The absolute, peaceful silence of the room, combined with the heavy, lingering exhaustion from the long journey, the sudden, chaotic sensory overload of navigating the town, and the immense, comforting warmth of Elphyete pressing her entire body against me, created a massive wave of tiredness that was simply impossible to fight off. My eyelids grew incredibly heavy.
I wrapped my arms around her back, resting one of my hands gently on her shimmering silver hair. Her breathing began to slow down steadily, syncing perfectly with the quiet, peaceful rhythm of the dark room. She was fully draped over my body, her extreme clinginess showing absolutely no signs of fading or loosening even as the heavy pull of sleep began to take her away. I looked up at the dark wooden beams of the ceiling, feeling the deep tension of the endless dirt roads finally leaving my muscles. Tomorrow, we would have to wake up and somehow search this massive, complicated city to find the king, but for tonight, there was absolutely nothing left to do. The loud, busy world outside the inn faded away entirely. We both fell asleep while Elphyete was clinging to me, the quiet darkness of the room bringing a peaceful, perfect end to the long day's travels.