Noah considered it.
The boy had a point.
A strange human following him back to his hiding place would look like a trap.
"Okay." Noah nodded. "Keep that loaf. It will help her."
Relief washed over Kip's face, his ears rising hesitantly.
Twitch-Twitch
"Really?"
"Really."
Noah nodded, giving the cat-boy the loaf of bread.
"And if you need more, my shop is at—"
Before he could finish, Kip darted forward, his small arms wrapping around the loaf of bread.
Then he was gone, vanishing down the alley with the bread clutched to his chest.
Noah watched him disappear, mouth twitching with mixed emotions.
Life is tough whether you're on Earth or in a magical medieval world.
He continued toward his shop, the sword once again perched on his shoulder.
One bread loaf wouldn't change the fate of two runaway slaves, but it might buy them a fighting chance.
The bread should be enough to help with fever and illness.
Esta's twin moons rose over the city walls.
The sight was so beautiful that Noah found himself momentarily stunned.
"...Wow...what a beautiful view."
...
Noah reached his shop door, muscles screaming from Valeria's relentless training. The wooden practice sword felt heavier with each step.
Inside, he grabbed a fresh loaf from the shelf. The bread's familiar aroma filled his nostrils as he took a generous bite.
Warmth spread through his body. The dull ache in his muscles loosened, tension melting away like ice cream in summer heat.
Two birds, one stone. Food and healing in one package.
His momentary satisfaction soured as he calculated the cost of his package. Three golden coins.
Equivalent to three hundred dollars.
I just ate a three-hundred-dollar loaf of bread.
Noah's mouth twitched at the absurdity. In what universe was bread worth more than premium steak?
In this one, apparently.
He consoled himself with a reasoning mind. The bread had accelerated his recovery, sparing him days of soreness.
It was an investment in his physical well-being.
Health is better than wealth... at least that's what people with health insurance say.
Satisfied and healed, Noah stepped through the portal back to Earth.
His apartment materialised around him, quiet and unchanged. He checked his phone, checking the time difference.
Noah blinked at the screen.
He'd spent roughly five hours in Esta—training with Valeria, chasing Kip through alleyways, walking back to his shop.
Five hours there. Two and a half here.
A Two-to-one time ratio.
He collapsed onto his couch. For every ten minutes in the magical world, only five minutes passed on Earth.
He closed his eyes—just a short nap.
He woke up clearer. Less fog, less strain in his limbs.
He checked the time.
Only fifteen minutes. Not bad for a power nap.
Or maybe the three-hundred-dollar bread finally kicked in?
Either way, he got up, washed his face, changed into something casual, and headed outside.
The air was refreshing, with the sun overhead improving the weather.
I don't remember the last time I've headed out with such amazing weather
He wandered around his house.
He had no plan, nor destination.
Just walking for the first time in months or perhaps years without having to run an errand.
He'd spent too long glued to a desk, buried in code, trying to make a startup work.
Across the street, an ice cream truck was parked by the curb.
He walked over.
"One vanilla cone," he said.
"Sure thing," the vendor replied, already scooping.
Noah reached for his wallet.
Snrk. Snrk.
Something tugged at his pants.
He looked down.
A small girl stared up at him. Couldn't be older than five. She had round cheeks, wide eyes, and the kind of innocence that made the world feel less complicated.
Cuteness overload is a real thing.
Her fingers were still clinging to his jeans.
"Uncle, can I have ice cream?" she asked, her wide eyes blinking at him with absolute confidence that the universe would provide ice cream if asked politely enough.
Before he could answer, a woman rushed up.
She had a black cap pulled low and sunglasses on.
Her straight black hair flowed, reaching her lower back.
"I'm so sorry, I was getting my wallet, and she just ran off."
Noah shook his head. "It's fine."
He looked at the girl again, her expression a perfect blend of hope and expectation.
"What flavour would you like, little one?"
"Vanilla," she said without hesitation.
He handed her the cone he'd just ordered.
She clutched it like it might disappear, her tiny hands barely able to wrap around it properly.
"Thank you, uncle!" She beamed, smiling at him with unfiltered joy.
So cute!
"I'll get another for myself. And one for you, too," he said to the mother.
"Oh, that's not necessary—"
"It's fine."
She hesitated, then gave a small nod.
They waited in line again. Noah glanced at the little girl, now licking her cone like it was her life's work.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Celine," she said, voice muffled through the ice cream.
The mother smiled.
"It means heavenly. It's from French."
Noah nodded.
Very fitting.
He passed her the cone when it was ready. She took it, thanking him once again.
Noah gave Celine a small wave and walked off toward the park.
He didn't really need to buy the little girl and her mother ice cream.
Didn't need to say anything.
But the little girl was cute.