For the first time, Niailan truly captivated Bilan with its unfamiliar scenery. She waved goodbye to the driver who had brought her there, her eyes wandering across the quaint and delicate buildings scattered throughout the town.
In the aristocratic district of Dolez, where she had grown up, every brick and stone was meticulously cleaned, creating a rigid and uniform appearance that carried a lingering sense of monotony and oppression. Having rarely left the noble district since childhood, Bilan had long grown weary of its stifling atmosphere.
But here in Niailan, she discovered something entirely different.
The moss clinging to the stones, the wildflowers blooming by the roadside—everything seemed to possess its own distinct charm and spirit. The small, rustic houses, though built from the common samarium wood, were beautifully crafted. The townspeople's love for beauty revealed itself in the intricate carvings decorating balcony railings and roof ridges, and in the winding paths paved with solid bluestone slabs.
Though the roads were narrow and lacked careful planning, the lichen growing between the stones lent them a subtle natural elegance.
For a girl raised among the aristocracy, this quiet beauty felt like a revelation. It was fresh, simple, and gentle—qualities that resonated deeply with Bilan. The townsfolk greeted her with warm smiles, a stark contrast to the impatience and disdain she had grown used to in Dolez. Even the merchants and vendors, whom Bilan had always regarded as mere profit-seekers, carried themselves with a calm demeanor and an almost joyful enthusiasm when bargaining.
As a mage apprentice, Bilan had sensed the powerful magical fluctuations emanating from the direction of the White Tower—a structure built by the mysterious mage Punk—the moment she approached the town. Yet the peaceful charm of Niailan had fascinated her so much that she decided to delay reporting to her mentor. Instead, she wanted to explore the town and fully enjoy its novel atmosphere.
As she wandered through the streets, admiring the handcrafted decorations displayed in shop windows and feeling the gentle breeze brush against her face, Bilan suddenly found herself standing before a bakery.
The rich aroma of freshly baked bread drifted through the air.
She instinctively took a deep breath.
Compared with the heavily seasoned delicacies of noble cuisine, the simple and wholesome fragrance of this bread was far more appealing to her.
With light steps, the beautiful young girl approached the counter and gazed expectantly at the trays of bread. In a soft voice, she asked:
"Excuse me, baker, how much is the mozzarella bread?"
The baker—a kind-looking middle-aged man with a round figure—was momentarily stunned by the sudden appearance of such an refined young lady. It took him a few seconds to gather himself.
"Ah—yes! The freshly baked mozzarella bread is seven Dylan coins each. How many would you like, miss?"
"It's so affordable! I'll take all of them," Bilan declared without hesitation.
Although her family belonged only to a minor noble house, the enormous wealth disparity in the Plane of Faerun meant that even a small noble like Bilan was considered quite wealthy compared to ordinary townsfolk. She had brought more than ten gold coins with her on this trip, so purchasing several loaves of bread was a trivial expense.
Bilan's eyes sparkled as she stared at the small loaves resting inside the display case.
The golden-brown crust, the soft dough, the enticing aroma—everything seemed almost alive, as though the bread itself were calling out to her. She could hardly wait to taste it.
Just as she was about to finalize the purchase, a voice suddenly rang out:
"Wait! Leave two for me!"
Bilan turned around.
A young boy wearing a white robe came running toward the bakery, clutching a thick book while wearing a rather extravagant hat. He was panting heavily as he shouted:
"Hey! You can't buy all the bread! I reserved some yesterday, but I was running late!"
Bilan tilted her head slightly, looking puzzled.
"You can reserve bread here?"
The baker scratched his head awkwardly, looking conflicted.
"Well… yes, that's true. But, uh…"
He glanced at Bilan, then at the boy, clearly hesitating.
While mozzarella bread wasn't particularly rare, it was still considered a small luxury among the townsfolk. Normally the supply was more than enough, and demand rarely exceeded it. This was the first time he had ever encountered such a situation.
As the baker silently wondered whether he should simply bake another batch, the boy's attention gradually shifted away from the bread—and landed on Bilan.
His cheeks instantly flushed.
Her clear eyes, her long flowing hair, and the pink-and-white dress decorated with delicate lace made her seem almost unreal to him. He had never seen someone so beautiful.
Stammering nervously, the boy introduced himself.
"I–I'm Diccito. I'm a bard, sixteen years old, and… uh… my gender is—"
He suddenly froze.
Realizing what he had just said, he slapped his forehead in utter embarrassment.
"Oh no! What am I saying? This isn't the city hall registry!"
Bilan couldn't help but laugh softly at his awkward introduction.
Accustomed to the polished etiquette of aristocrats, she found his clumsy sincerity surprisingly endearing. Seeing that the two suns were still hanging high in the sky, she decided there was no hurry to meet her mentor.
Instead, she extended her hand toward the boy, her smile warm and genuine.
"Hello, Diccito. My name is Bilan. It's a pleasure to meet you."