Chapter Text
From within the valleys of Folk Forest and past the trials of von Karma’s regiment lies the most precious prize any man can lay their eyes upon. Encased in blade-proof scales lies a silver amethyst with such a luminance that it blinds those who dare to steal it. No man has dared to venture towards the claws of the amethyst's cage, as many have tried and now lay their punished souls to rest in the underworld’s hands.
As the sun draws thin each night, the amethyst yearns to be set free from its cage, watching stars drip from Syren’s worn eyes. The crystals that scatter across the night only glimmer to bribe others to steal the amethyst’s riches. In mournful skies, Syren weeps for the amethyst’s captivity, and each night the amethyst does not return to his rightful home, Syren shall continue to weep.
Thus, the myth of the amethyst prince is born. Those who dare to rescue his majesty must face their perils and dangers, but those who succeed have obtained themselves the most valuable treasure in the realm.
And soon, his prince shall be rescued from his entrapment.
This is the tale of the blue baker who retrieved his lost soulmate.
｡･:*:･ﾟ
Morning yawned across the plains of Yeastville, kissing wheat farms and flower gardens alike. Orange washed against brick buildings and towers, sparkling raised flour that collected within the morning air. Smoke started to collect into chimneys as they slowly dissipated into the tired sun, bringing forth the rustic smell of dough throughout town. Small dogs barked whilst bakers shushed their companions, trying to return to their tedious kneading of dusted starch. Within one of several of those small buildings laid a bed, cramped within the attic of a rustic tavern. Cobwebs had become commonplace as dust collects within corners befitting of a secluded room. Despite light casting itself across half of the small abode through a square window, a sleeper within the bed did not stir. Deep sleep had seemed to consume their consciousness, as not even a dispute between hounds rose them from their slumber. However, it only took a large hit from underneath their feet to stir them from sleep.
The wooden floorboards underneath them shuddered against a hearty punch. Then, the boss’ deep voice boomed through the room.
“PHOENIX WRIGHT!!! It is fifteen past sun break! Rise!!”
Grogginess still weighed against Phoenix as he curled himself in closer. Bedsheets encased him from the sun, as well as the monotonous work that awaited him beyond the rustic door of his room. Every moment that Phoenix waited, he knew that his boss was studying, trying to catch him off guard with another hit. With heavy limbs, Phoenix begrudgingly rose from his rest. He sat up in bed, stretching out his sore limbs whilst looking around; there was not much to see, as most of his room was the large sprawl of a spacious attic. A table sat adjacent to his bed, holding any jewellery and belongings he possessed, other essentials tucked into a closet across the room. However, he was not the only one that lived in the attic. Next to his bed was one more: the bed of a dear companion of his that was already empty (Phoenix assumed that she had already risen to start the day).
He yawned away his drowsiness and stood up, slipping his feet into socks that rested nearby. Phoenix knew that the longer he stalled, the more his boss would complain of his laziness. So, with a quick foot, Phoenix put together his clothes, which only consisted of loose common clothing and a long, blue cape, yet it was all he had in his simple life. He also snatched a small cloth full of belongings, as well as a small necklace he always bore that clinked with feathers and beads across his chest. He shuffled over to the exit, nearly tearing off the old, metal knob with a crooked turn. The wooden door gave a worn thud as he closed it behind him in his rush, the stairs creaking with each step as he descended.
When reaching the bottom of the staircase and parting the curtains that acted as a veil to his rest, he was greeted with a familiar aura. The Tavern of Yeastville .
Despite the sun just peering over their town, several travellers populated the building, resting at the bar and ordering drinks of all types. Bards decorated tables while knights rested their mighty swords in favour of relaxation. One would think that taverns only bustle once the sun rests, however, the Tavern of Yeastville was always pregnant with customers of all nationalities and destinations. One bard was already strumming his lute, singing for a small couple that swayed to blissful music. On the other side of the building, another group cheered, singing with beer that kissed their beards.
Phoenix quickly turned a corner, walking straight behind the bar where his boss worked at. The smell of alcohol filled his senses immediately, with bottles sprinkling the walls with some of them opened on shelves. The tavern’s owner worked on customers’ orders, swiftly pouring and shaking drinks with skilled hands.
As Phoenix leaned down to collect some small things, his boss spoke. “Trite, what took you so long? You should have risen fifteen minutes ago.”
Phoenix perked his head up, looking at his boss. Bestowed with the name Godot, he stood at a staggering height, easily towering over Phoenix, even when at his best posture. A mask plastered itself across his eyes, bearing three gems that lined up to resemble three rays of red against a silver-plated base. They glimmered with passion against the golden lamps around them, nearly piercing into Phoenix’s skin with its studious gaze. Even if Phoenix couldn’t see his eyes, he knew where its gaze burned.
Phoenix averted his eyes, gripping the corner piece of his cloth satchel strung over his shoulder. “Uhm… Sorry, Godot. I just had a rough sleep last night. Nothing you should be worried about.”
Godot huffed, “Trite, you know I will worry for you. After all, you live under my roof.” With another low groan, he added, “Not to mention, you must run the bakery across the way.”
“Yes, I know, sir, but know I can open the store whenever I can. It is merely a five-minute walk, only two if I jog.”
Even though Godot bore an opaque mask, Phoenix could tell that his eyebrows slimmed into a scowl. He paused for a couple of moments but then he responded, “Whenever you run late, you know that your workers wait patiently.”
A small pause silenced Phoenix, a groan as he soon realised his mistake. Alongside him running his bakery, he had some recruits that accompanied him. Two small young girls volunteered their services, both of which lived nearby with their passions for baking.
Godot tilted his head, motioning across the bar. At a circle table, tucked near a corner of the shop, was a collection of wooden furniture with his two assistants waiting patiently. Both with long brunette hair and loose commoner’s attire, they waited while drinking apple juice from glasses, one aged eight and the other fifteen.
His boss said, “Trite, I recommend you greet them. They have been waiting for quite some time.”
Without pushing back, Phoenix nodded and slipped past him in a scurry to avoid his amber glares. He escaped the bar and strode over to the table holding his assistants. Once close enough, the two girls looked over. Instead of their usual greeting filled with joy, their eyebrows scrunched into annoyance, one of them immediately standing up in a fury.
A girl, named Pearls and wearing her hair in brunette hoops, ran over and batted punches at Phoenix’s chest. “Brother Nix!!! You are late!!!”
Phoenix grimaced against her punches, trying to push them away, “Pearls, Pearls, mercy! I merely slept in! I did not forget you two!”
“Daddy said otherwise!!!” Pearls pouted, resting her punching arms. The small girl, a little over half of his height, was the adopted child of Godot who was raised in the tavern. She was the girl that rested next to Phoenix up in the attic, who seemed to wake much earlier than others did.
The baker knelt, meeting face to face with the young girl. “Pearls, rest. Daddy tends to exaggerate his tales. I surely would never forget you two.”
Pearls only grimaced more, avoiding eye contact in her strong defiance. With a loving look, Phoenix gently brushed his hand over Pearls’ head, rubbing a calloused thumb to her forehead. “Pearls?”
Her grey eyes slid back, meeting Phoenix’s with a teared pout. Phoenix tilted his head and gave his apologetic smile. “You know I would not forget you. I will always be here, alright?”
They kept their gazes just a couple of more moments before she huffed, shifting her posture to face Phoenix. “…Alright…” She adjusted her attitude back to her stern one. “You better not be late again, though!”
Phoenix smiled wider, nodding. “Of course. I shall never.”
He then rose, looking back at the two of them. His eyes connected with his other assistant, Trucy, who was waiting patiently. Her brunette ponytail was strung with blue beads, matching a straw hat that was decorated with a blue bow. Her casual outfit was accompanied by an apron she had already donned (she must have brought it from the bakery the night before, as all aprons were kept in the store itself). A red accented neckerchief plastered her neck, only highlighting her face as she had started to pout.
Trucy placed her fists firm against her hips, giving an angered groan. “Uncle Nix, we have been waiting for hours down here! Where have you been?”
“…Hours?” Phoenix inquired.
“Hours!! I was here before the sun had even dawned!”
“Why were you even here? Do you not need your rest?”
“I was bored!!” She pronounced, as strongly as would as if it were commonplace.
“Bored??”
“Yes!! You should have been awake earlier!”
It was Phoenix’s turn to groan, giving her a loving glare. “Alright… I… Never mind, Truce.” He said, using the small nickname they shared. “I should have been awake on time.”
“Yes, you should have!!” Trucy pouted once more, flicking at Phoenix. All within a second, a bouquet of flowers appeared from her fingers, flashing petals into Phoenix’s face. A jolt of surprise shocked him, bouncing back with a yelp, “WAAH!!”
As fast the bouquet appeared, it whipped back, resting in Trucy’s hold. Petals floated about, kissing Trucy’s now giggling face. Phoenix sighed, spitting out a petal that unfortunately travelled into his mouth. A trick from Trucy’s jesting career was probably enough punishment for him. One more of those tricks might physically hurt Phoenix next time.
She stuffed away her bouquet, which seemingly disappeared within her sleeve. She chuckled, sneaking her hands behind her back. “Alriiiiiight, I forgive you. Just be on time!!!”
Phoenix sighed, looking at the two of them. They both looked up, a pleading look plastered on both sets of eyes. He sighed, nodding once again. “Yes, I’ll be on time. Now, you guys cease your pouting, and let us open the shop, alright?”
Sorrowed expressions almost immediately turned to joy, giggling at the proposition. Pearls bounced, her childish wonder gleaming. “Ah, yes!!! Will I get the biiiig apron?”
Phoenix laughed, petting her head once again. “Of course, you will. The one you always get.”
Pearls jumped, her giggles growing even louder. “HOORAY!!! Thank you, Brother Nix!!”
She bounced over, hugging Phoenix’s chest as he rubbed her hair, feeling her ecstatic embrace. Phoenix flicked his eyes over to the side, looking at Godot who shared eyes with him. Gently, he bore a smile. It was rare for the baker to see a smile from the bartender, but he welcomed the small praise he gifted Phoenix with. He had always trusted Phoenix with his daughter, not to mention the travelling jester Trucy who often stayed for hours at a time. It was comforting to have such an intimidating figure rest on his side.
Phoenix raised one hand and waved, a kind farewell to Godot. He waved back in response, then Phoenix swiftly grabbed his cloth bag, held both of the girl’s hands, and left the tavern. The milky sunrise painted the sidewalks as they walked down the streets. The girls watched their shadows skip with them, stitched to their own boots and daubed across the marble below them. They passed several familiar faces, all customers waving and greeting them. Their walk was a short one, as their bakery was just a couple of stress down, tucked within a small collection of other brick-laid buildings, yet blossoming with trees around its edges. They eventually reached the doors, looking up to the orange-painted bakery with its similarly brick-laid structure. Thick lettering spelled Fey’s Bakery, painted on the crown of the door. One of the nearby trees kissed the roof, so tall as to drip leaves onto the mat in front of them. With a fumble, Phoenix pulled out his thick key and clicked the store open, swinging the entrance with a jingle to let the two girls slip inside. They took running starts to fire up the small ovens, using quickly lit candles to fire up chimneys. He watched with amusement, closing the door behind him and setting down his things.
Setting up the shop was easy enough. The girls had to start up the ovens, as well as collect the wheat and dough to make new batches for the day. Another full collection of bread had to be heated up again, which was swiftly started by the eager Pearls. As much as it was a dangerous game to have a young child work with fire, she had been taught extremely well by her peers. Phoenix was proud, watching such a young girl work hard to upkeep one of her beloved places. Trucy was not to be overshadowed either, as she was incredibly talented for her age. Being able to skillfully make bread, maintain the building, and even serve customers impressed Phoenix thoroughly. Trucy and Pearls were a perfect duo for the shop, always keeping each other in check while completing their job on time. Phoenix almost felt lost in the loop, as his work was managing finances and kneading dough.
After around twenty minutes of preparation, the bakery was ready to open. With a flip, Phoenix turned around their wooden “OPEN” sign to gleam out of their small window. Then, the bakers waited for their customers in the comfort of their toasty shop.
Slowly, business sprouted. For an afternoon like theirs, Phoenix spent the time letting the girls cook bread while serving customers. With flour-dusted hands, he patiently kneaded globs of dough, pressing them into well-rounded collections for new batches. The chatter of customers greeted him and the girls, all bringing their own songs to the bakery’s atmosphere. The familiar scent of baked wheat soon rose, brought in by the warm drafts of flour-gifted heat. The girls skipped to baking new batches while Phoenix only supplied them with more dough.
Out of both girls, Phoenix had always watched Pearls with fondness. At only eight years old, she was bountiful with energy that only seeped further into her nature. Two brunette halos of looped hair framed her joy, with a small swirled crest the bakery’s doors shared hanging on her neck. Her full name, Pearl Fey, brought love and care to the bakery, as the shop bore the same name as hers. The Fey Bakery… A name bathed in love within the town, yet also haunted with sorrow. Whenever he thought of such a name, he pulled out his own swirled charm from his pockets, thumbing the edges gently.
In Phoenix’s youth, he was an orphan, his parents dissapeared to the winds of mystery. Found as an infant within the surrounding woods, he was taken in by a small family: the defiant Feys. Mia Fey, the woman who found Phoenix and incidentally became his mother figure, nurtured him for nearly fifteen years, treating him as a pseudo-baby brother alongside her sister, Maya Fey. Later, they housed the young cousin Pearls, whose mother left her. They all shared the surname from the Fey Clan, an everlasting name that held the most talented mages within the kingdom. The branch of Feys that rested in the small baker’s town, however, resigned their teachings, aiming to direct power into their work.
With the care of Mia’s passions (and her husband Godot), they all helped run a small bakery in town in which she would gift her charmed pastries to the sick and homeless. Mia was the kindest woman they knew, giving her generosity and aid to everyone within the town to the point of disregarding her own health. And, unfortunately, her generosity didn’t last forever. Only two years ago, an illness swept through the community and fate landed itself in Mia’s hands, whisking her into a peaceful death in the bitter cold of winter. In the light of her passing, Maya was struck with so much sorrow that she fled, dashing into the forest hugging town and vanishing without a trace. For the two years since Mia’s passing, it was assumed that Maya had died within the woods, but the Feys were strong mages; Phoenix knew that somewhere past those trees, just outside of Yeastville’s buildings, Maya was holding strong.
As much as the tale of the Feys sadden those who knew its words, the bakery still stood. And, if Phoenix could speak to Mia beyond their moral plains, he suspected that Mia would not want her prized bakery to gather dust. So, with a heavy heart, Phoenix raised the metal key of the shop high and continued to live on her legacy. Inscribed with circular spirals of metal brands, Phoenix baked hundreds upon hundreds of pastries, giving them to the town as needed to fight against the wave of sickness. Even if they could not bless the breads with the grace of health, they still gleamed souls, guiding the lowered spirits of the town to a warm house. The smoke of the bakery’s chimney billowed high for years and years, greeting more customers every day. With Phoenix and his helpers, they all continued the legacy of the Fey Bakery, just as Mia would have wanted.
Within all the thoughts of his upbringing, the time had slipped past the baker. Minutes turned to hours, watching dozens of loaves turn into a hundred. The pressing of the dubbed “Magatama” signature onto bread was a common motion, repeated countless times onto various goods. Eventually, the sun had rested high in the sky, revealing a small hour of natural downtime to their store.
Trucy yawned, stretching out her worn arms. “My! We baked a lot of bread this morning, have we not?”
Phoenix gave her a nod, stretching out his own limbs. “Yes, we have. We must have made around a hundred.”
“No, at least a thousand!!” Pearls exclaimed, resting on a small stool with a tired slouch.
Trucy snickered, playfully tapping at her shoulder. “No, silly, we cannot make a thousand loaves of bread within the morning! Maybe within a week, however.”
“But it feels like a thousand! My arms are already sore.” Pearls pouted.
Considering their persistence through labor, Phoenix had to give them credit. Making that much bread at their ages was always tough, as Phoenix could attest from experience. He stood up straight and placed his hands on his hips, giving both of the girls looks. “Well, you two young ladies, you are welcome to take your break. The customers have slowed down.”
A light shined in both of their eyes, a smile stretching their faces taught. “Really??” They said in unison.
Phoenix laughed, shaking his shoulders with his bellow. “Of course! You both have worked hard today. Here.” Phoenix leaned down, reaching into his pocket. The girls leaned in, watching with ecstatic curiosity as Phoenix pulled out a small handful of silver coins. “Use these at the candy shop across the way. Just do not tell Godot.”
Joy bounced them to their feet, immediately snatching the given wealth into their hands. They giggled, nearly bolting out the door with their newfound riches to spend. Phoenix watched as their small silhouettes disappear into the distance, turning a corner down into the shoppers’ market. And, as they vanished, a cloud seemed to suddenly dim the sky. A sombre smile surfaced against Phoenix’s face.
With a sigh, he returned to work. Only a handful of customers had shown up, asking for small purchases. He collected gold coins in small bottles, wrote down the weekend’s workload, and planned out any new things he had to order. With his two assistants out scavenging for candy, he found the bakery quiet. The small sounds of kindle warming the room crackled through the air, whisking in smells of bountiful wheat. The outside only poured sunlight through the building, shredded by the tree’s leaves that hung just above the windows.
He carved ink onto a scroll, soaking in the wonderful scents he sought out. A small bell rang, signifying that someone had opened the doors to his shop. With the casualness he normally beared, he said, without raising his head, “Welcome on in!”
“Ah, thank you, sir,” A male voice said. It was smooth, with a ring of a clean accent hidden within its vowels. The words were said nearly under his breath, almost lost within the thick scent of the brick building.
Phoenix flicked his eyes up, greeting the new customer. What greeted him back nearly struck Phoenix still.
In a tall stature was a man with short grey hair, wearing a smooth, brown coat and a frilled cravat. His eyes were dulled in yet another ashen color, almost invisible from behind locks covering his face. A small smile was hidden behind a neutral look, looking right back at the baker.
Phoenix’s eyes widened. He was struck dumbfounded. Memories of an old friend surfaced in his head. Words scrambled to hit his lips, letting his heart flutter as he blurted a name.
“W-Wait, Miles?”
The name of an old lover. A friend whom he played with in the deep forests outside of Yeastville, always careless in their adventures. A man who shared the same feathered necklace that hung from Phoenix’s neck. A man who he used to play with just at the tree next to his bakery. A man who had suddenly left his hometown in a rush at the age of sixteen, never to be mentioned for nearly a decade. A man that he had nearly forgotten about.
A man who had suddenly appeared before him.
The grey-haired customer studied Phoenix for a moment more before responding.
“…Miles?”
Uncertainty surfaced within Phoenix’s throat, forcing himself to return his question. “U-Uh, yes. You are…”
Eyebrows scowled in confusion as the customer talked.
“…I am afraid I do not know who this Miles is.”
Phoenix’s lips parted in bewilderment. He continued his stare, focusing on the small details of the man’s person. He had the same grey hair, bangs strung over his eyes in a veil of familiarity. Even the cravat he loved to wear in his youth was there, but when Phoenix looked more, the other’s eyes were hung with more age than Miles could ever bear. And, when looking closer, he had a much wider stature. It was hard to tell the age of the customer, but from the nine years Phoenix had missed Miles, he was far too old to be his lost friend.
A sadness sunk Phoenix’s face, nodding. “Ah… I apologise, sir, I must have mistaken you for someone. Please, continue.”
The man gave Phoenix a judging study, yet he continued his shopping, glancing at shelves of pastries. Yet, the image of old memories couldn’t leave Phoenix. The sights of youthful banter, running and laughing without a care in dangerous woods. The smiles of his missing love, and the only man who could truly appreciate him.
And… a friend he longed to revisit.
｡･:*:･ﾟ
Godot watched Phoenix press his forehead into the bar counter, gripping his glass of beer. As the commotion of an afternoon bar fluttered around him, the baker kept his spirits flat against the wooden counter of the Tavern of Yeastville.
The ruby-eyed bartender tapped the counter with a bottle. “Trite, you are soaking the tavern with despair.”
Phoenix sniffed against his drunken sorrow, hiccuping up a previous beer he had downed. “B-But, Godot, have you not heard of my tale? Of my lost f-friend?”
“Many times, baker,” Godot sighed, “too many times. But no amount of sobbing will retrieve your young acquaintance.”
Phoenix raised his lulled body to his elbows, gripping his glass. “I-I know… B-But… I miss him, Godot.” He lifted his eyes to those words, meeting the abstract ones of Godot’s. “I yearn for his laughter again.”
A scowl that was apparent behind a mask surfaced from Godot, which prompted Phoenix to continue. “I… Godot, you know what I feel of, do you?”
Godot didn’t move his head as he polished his glass once more. “…Yes, I do, Trite. Yet, sobbing on my once-clean counters will not solve this. Have you thought of simply asking around town?”
“I have!” Phoenix retorted, sitting up straighter. “I have asked every friend I have ever gained for the whereabouts of Miles, yet to no avail!” The baker hung his head again, sniffing back his drunken worries. “Godot… My search is worthless. Surely, he must be in a far-off region that none of us can fathom.”
If Godot could roll his eyes, Phoenix figured he did then, and with a groan, he uttered, “Trite, leave your sorrows to your world. Now, join the joy of this tavern.” He placed the bottle down, giving Phoenix’s hand a slight shake as a reminder to fix himself up. “No elder brother should weep in front of his apprentices.”
Another sniff resonated from Phoenix as he raised his heavy head, brushing away tears that had built. His glass stayed on the counter unattended as he tried to hide his sorrow once again. Rubbing his eyes to look around him, he noticed that no one else sat near him on the bar, accentuating the halo of despair that hovered over his body. Phoenix granted himself to heave a cry or two more, watching the remaining bar members crystalize in his saddened state.
Across the tavern, tucked within a stage corner, sat one of the bards that night. Even though the night was young, only one bard rested within the tavern to perform for a quiet audience. Phoenix ceased his sobs to listen in on the performance, a calming lute fading into earshot. The bard sat atop of a stool on stage, playing for a collection of round tables with more drunk customers. He strummed his lute with delicate fingers, a perfect dark bark colour that complimented the rest of his complexion. Each time he strung chords against his valued instrument, the perfected golden curls against his shoulder shifted to the melody. He sang along, swaying to the lyrics he poured from his mouth while his long, purple cape followed him. Phoenix’s sadness had fogged up into mist from the bard’s words, but as he fully started to tune into the audience, the full appearance of local bard Klavier Gavin became apparent to his person.
In the audience of Klavier’s performance were several members, two of which being Pearls and Trucy, the latter in particular being enthusiastic about the bard’s show. She cheered (quietly, which was probably to Klavier’s benefit) while throwing up flowers she sprung from her jester tricks. Klavier gave her, as well as other audience members, winks in response. Phoenix felt a groan leave his mouth as Klavier caught a rose with his teeth and smiled for the instrumental segment.
“Hate him too?”
Phoenix nearly jumped out of his seat to the sudden voice behind him. He whipped around, looking over a now occupied stool at the bar. Sat next to him was a short man, maybe only 150 centimeters, and wearing a near full suit of metal armour. The man was almost unidentifiable to Phoenix at first glance, but when he looked at his unclad, horned hair, Phoenix sighed from his startled state.
“Oh, Apollo Justice, do not scare me like that again! A d-drunk man can only handle so much!”
The knight scoffed, dropping his ungloved hand against the counter with a newly poured glass of beer. “Yet you are the one who cannot drink this much. You know both Pearls and my sister look up to you.”
A hiccup followed Phoenix lulling his head. “Ah, I know. But, forgive me, knight. I had just remembered my old friend.”
The other’s eyes slimmed. “…An old friend?”
He nodded once more, then parted his lips to explain, however, he was cut short by Godot’s intervention. “Horns, I advise against asking for more details. He will only drown you in his sorrow.”
Phoenix grumbled, looking over at his mentor. “S-Shut up!!” He turned back to Apollo, his eyes waxed back to grief. “Apollo, listen to my words, he is an old love of mine. We were separated at sixteen when he mysteriously disappeared alongside his father without a trace.” The baker leaned forward, pressing his palms against the now concerned knight. “Please! Knight, listen to my tale !” With a slugged pull, he gripped at his necklace, pulling forward the feathered garment. “Look! I had strung this for my love at only seven! He surely still bears this around his neck! I miss him dearly, we have to reunite!”
Apollo returned Phoenix’s hands to its owner with a gentle push. “I… see, Mr. Wright, however, I cannot help you. I am merely a guard for Yeastville. Whatever your… endeavour is, it needs to be solved within the realms of your hands.”
Phoenix fully returned his hands, sniffing into another cry. “…B-But… Apollo…”
Godot took a sturdy wine bottle and firmly hit Phoenix over the head. “Trite, what did I say about bothering our customers?”
Phoenix yelped in pain, holding his newly bruised skin. “O-OW!! Godot!! That was unfair! I was only explaining my troubles!”
“Not to customers! Now cease your babblings!!”
The baker found another weep surface on his face, shielding his leaking eyes with trembling hands. Not only was he being belittled for his troubles, but being hit! Phoenix surely was being punished for his adventures! Oh, woe was Phoenix, unable to see the path set in front of him.
Then, suddenly, a saviour… A familiar voice surfaced around them.
“Ah, brother! Hello!” Trucy had bounced over from the tables, reaching up to give Apollo a clunky hug.
Apollo laughed at the sudden embrace, catching Trucy’s hat that nearly flew from her head. “Why, hello Trucy! How are you enjoying the show tonight?”
Trucy raised her head, a smile wide across her face. “I love it!! Klav is always soooo talented!” She pouted, still holding her embrace to Apollo’s sides. “But, brother, I do not know why you hate him so.”
“Agh, do not get me started, Trucy!” Apollo groaned. He listed on his fingers, looking mindlessly up to the tavern’s ceiling. “Mr. Gavin is always so flamboyant in his performances and insists on bringing attention to me. I am merely an audience member! He has no bother with me! Plus, those serenades haunt me in my dreams! Do you know how many times I have heard Lute’s Serenade? Too many times to count!”
Trucy bellowed a laugh, akin to how Apollo laughed himself. “Oh, Polly! Cease your jesting! That is my job!”
“What jesting?” Apollo questioned, a hint of his previous rant still apparent in his voice. As his sister laughed once more, he added, “A-And cease calling me Polly!”
She only continued her laughter, bantering back and forth with her family. It only took her a couple of more moments to notice that Phoenix rested beside them. She quickly looked over, noticing how Phoenix attempted to keep his drunken weeps to himself.
Her face wilted in similar despair, looking over to the ruby bartender. “Uncle Godot, why is Uncle Nix weeping?”
A groan rumbled from him, along with the clink of setting down his bottles for good. “Trucy, you know it well. His… lost love.”
Trucy made an “oh” noise, looking back to Phoenix’s figure. She huffed, batting his thigh. “Uncle Nix, cheer up! I am sure your friend is well!”
Phoenix hurriedly brushed his tears, knowing that his time for sorrow had to come to a close. He looked up, meeting Trucy’s gaze. “Ah, I-I know, but… A customer looked so similar to him tonight. I could not help myself.”
“Ahh… I see.” Trucy huffed. She gave a smile, beaming as light shined against her bright person. “But, do not weep! Surely, your friend cannot be far!”
Phoenix sniffed, curiosity inquiring himself. He tilted his head. “Hmm?”
The young girl gestured away, pointing vaguely to where the nearby forest laid outside. “Maybe he just got lost out there and now lives in the woods!”
“Trucy,” Apollo interjected, “if that was true, a young man of sixteen would not have survived that long.”
“Polly!!” She pouted. “Stay positive! I know Uncle Nix has had it hard, but maybe we try to help him!”
Sudden words struck Phoenix. The idea of assistance once seemed foreign, but it was suddenly presented to him with ease. He repeated the girl’s statement. “…Help me?”
She whipped her head around, nodding. “Yes, help! Maybe he found a nearby town? Surely you have not thought of that yet!”
…Phoenix hated to admit his cowardness, but he hadn’t thought of that. Searching for his friend had only extended to the town, not to the outside. Because, in all honesty, Phoenix hadn’t wandered far from his town. He had planned to, but anything past the woods was unknown territory to him.
The silence seemed to answer Trucy’s question, as she looked back over to Apollo, nodding. “You see? The search has not seen its full yet! And maybe I can assist!”
“Oh, nonono!” Apollo immediately said. “You are not going on this escapade!”
Trucy immediately pouted, hands firmly against her hips. “Ah, but Polly!! This would be such a brave journey!” She switched emotions fast, pulling her hands to her chin in a playful swoon. “ The ballad of a lost prince! Taken by the winds of fate, lost within the woods of Yeastville! It is such a moving tale! We have to search to its end!”
“Absolutely not!” Apollo boomed once again, nearly deafening the three others surrounding him. “You are not going on this journey alone with Mr. Wright! My, that would be just suicide!”
“Then join me!” Trucy proclaimed with fierce determination. Her brother was left stunned as she continued. “My brother, it is not hard! Simply come with me as our knight to protect us from our woes!”
Silence still wracked Apollo, watching as Trucy beamed her confident stance. He skimmed his eyes around in a nervous fleet. “…But, Trucy, I—”
“May I join? If we are joining in travel?”
The three young customers violently jumped, whipping their heads to the source. Only a metre away stood the bard Klavier, resting at Phoenix’s eye line, even if the baker was seated. Klavier shined his charming teeth, clean hair turning against his shoulder, letting his smooth yet strong accent fill their conversation. “I hate to suddenly intrude, but I cannot back down from a sudden quest.”
“M-Mr. Gavin!!” The knight suddenly exclaimed, a beet red flush spreading across his face. He quickly raised his hands, batting away the tanned bard. “N-No, do not join us! It is not worth your troubles.”
“But, Herr Knight, you know I am a travelling bard.” Klavier took a step closer to them, sneaking next to Apollo’s person. “The idea of a trek is what I always seek.”
“That is not the p-problem here!” The other shifted himself closer to the counter, almost as if he were fleeing the eager musician. “The problem is that these two young friends want to risk their lives for a possible lost cause.”
“IT IS NOT A LOST CAUSE!!” Phoenix suddenly burst out, slamming the table in his rage. The others paused, watching Phoenix hold his shaking fist, tensed to white knuckles. After apprehension, Phoenix took in a shaky breath, startled by his own outburst.
“It is… a cause that I want to find closure to. Because it concerns a man I loved… and still love. And…” He focused his eyesight, studying the people before him. “If I have to take on his sudden quest by myself… Then so be it.”
The pause that filled empty space between everyone was healthy, filled with rich concern and catharsis. Some people spared him pity looks, darting eyes around to find purchase on spare objects.
Then, tearing tension with his mighty words, Apollo sighed.
“I… suppose I can aid you.”
Phoenix whipped his head, eyes wide with suddenly overwhelmed passion. “Oh!! A-Apollo?”
A gasp of excitement shot through Trucy, her smile beaming through all darkness that had shrouded the tavern. “Oh? Polly, will you, will you??”
Apollo begrudgingly shifted his eyes over to Trucy, his eyes mixed with apprehension. “…Yes, I will. Trucy, you seem fixed on your journey, so who am I to stop you and your travels?”
Bounces sprung Trucy into the air, her collection of various layers bouncing with her. She clashed against Apollo’s person once again, hugging him as tight as she could (which certainly garnered a grimace from Apollo, despite his thick armour). “YAY!! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU!!”
Apollo tied his arms around Trucy, his eyes still wallowed in his failure to uphold his initial concerns. Next to him, Klavier leaned in to rest his cleaned hand against Apollo’s shoulder. “My, if the Justice siblings care to join, I find myself obligated to join myself.”
The knight gave Klavier a side eye, thinning in his annoyance. “We do not need your help, Bard.”
“Ach–! O, Knight, thou wound mine heart with thy harsh words.” Klavier dramatically placed his other manicured hand over his heart, eyes fluttered with fake sorrow. “How can I leave a sir-damsel in distress all alone to defend himself?! Woe is me… Woe is me!”
Trucy jumped to the charade, removing herself from Apollo’s embrace and drowning her face in sheer anguish. “Polly, I did not know you for a heartless blackguard… Woe is mine!”
Apollo bemoaned, covering his pained expression. “Ugh—! Not you too, Trucy!”
“No, no, young jester, it is ‘Woe is me’,” Klavier corrected, his hand still placed dramatically over his heart.
Trucy scoffed, shaking her hands around to dismiss Klavier’s words. “Ah, I try! Give your youth a break!”
A smooth chuckle surfaced from Klavier, resting his jesting persona. Shifting his tone, he looked back to Phoenix, who was still stunned by the sudden wave of support. “But, as Herr Baker said, I shall assist with all I can.”
Phoenix broke his stunned silence, only to retort to his nickname. “W-Wait, Herr Baker?”
He nodded. “Yes, Herr Baker. You are a baker, are you not?”
“I… suppose I am.” Phoenix then turned his expression into one of dismissive air. “Whatever— You…” He found a smile creeping into his once sobbing face. “You all… would want to accompany me ?”
“Of course, we want to!!” Trucy beamed, bouncing in her own person. “This is an adventure! My, the last trip I went on was so grand!! I cannot wait to relive another!!”
“My sister,” Apollo started, “that was a trip to a neighbouring farmer’s town, not across the region.”
“Ah, but it felt as so!!” Trucy argued.
Their bickering continued, poking at each other as the swimming of compliments and kindness stilled in Phoenix’s heart. The love, patience… Even the respect that he had given Yeastville over the years had finally returned. For the final time that night, he felt tears brim in familiar eyes, quickly brushing them away in a hiccup.
Trucy noticed quickly, turning back around to her family. She frowned, placing a hand against his thigh. “Uncle Nix… It is alright! Of course, we will assist you!”
He nodded, sniffling his joy away. “T-Thank you… Truly, thank you. You guys are kind beyond words.”
“Of course, Herr Baker,” Klavier said with his sly smile. “For all of those loaves of bread you bake and the love you spread, it is only fair.”
“Yes!!” Trucy giggled, tapping her hands together. “You do a lot for the town! We are only giving back!”
Phoenix smiled, his face finally waxing into a joyous love. “I… will not let you down.”
Everyone shared their smiles, the hints of giggles filtering through the now newly dubbed travellers. An adventure… now set in stone with their four persons. An adventure that would give him his love back.
Godot exhaled and fixed his face mask. Oh… They had nearly forgotten.
The other turned to meet the bartender’s face, three scarlet crystals lined neatly on top of each other with a glare. Everyone focused on his ruby lines, realising that the baker’s father had listened in on their entire plan of an escapade. Stilled in his stance, Phoenix’s mismatched glittering eyes fixed on the scarlet lines, challenging the newfound squad with his resolve to remain stern, now apparent verdict of disapproval.
Seeing the stance the man laid out, Apollo parted his lips, furrowing his thick eyebrows into a firm statement. “Mr. Godot, I assure you, I shall go with Mr. Wright and make sure he is under good hands.” Apollo pumped his iron chest piece with his fist, straightening his posture. “I swear by the name of Syren. And, by the name of my companions.”
Godot gently placed a mug he was drinking, his grin curled down with a scowl emerging between the visible lines of his visage. “I see that you swear as if vows were meant to be thrown around recklessly, Injustice.”
“Godot,” Phoenix slowed into a hiss, untwining his sweaty fingers from his face. “Apollo desires to assist me in this journey. I do not grasp your irrational fear of looking for–” He paused, then Phoenix’s shoulders dropped and face twisted in a hint of his agony. “For Miles. I beseech you to fathom my want to find him and aid me with your consent.”
“I need you to comprehend the dangers, Trite.” Godot clicked his tongue and his scowl deepened. “Miles is no longer a name you can find. If you investigate elsewhere, no man has an answer for any of your inquiries.” He pointed at Phoenix, a stern voice erupting from his throat. “You cannot find him in the common realm at all! Ask every peasant, they will not have a single lead to point you in a direction. Your companion has left this town and possibly will never be discovered again! So, do not try to scalp me for information, as I will not grant you anything.”
Phoenix clenched his fist, his face beginning to darken as he lowered his gaze from Godot. His heart bled with sorrow, reflecting on his dimmed eyes, divided from a sparkle of hope that clung so firmly to the increasing self-doubt. He questioned his unreasonable demands, scraping every illogical conjecture to its core. It was that everlasting trust, a foundation rooted deep within him, built block by block by his family that shared his undying passion for love and generosity.
My, Miles… His only friend since childhood and growing to his teens. The only person who listened to his rambles with truly opened ears and heart to the young Phoenix. A boy he loved ever since they met underneath the large tree next to the Fey Bakery. The only person who ever cared for his lonesome childhood aside from the Feys. The only person who was not afraid to share with him every detail of his life. The only person who enlightened his world with meaning until it all was dimmed and left behind.
His thoughts were dissolved by a deafening yell from his horned companion. Phasing back to his senses, Phoenix suddenly gaped at the suddenly standing knight.
“You do not get to hold away his hope and drench it with your beer, Mr. Godot!” Apollo’s yell attracted unwarranted attention but he continued to howl. “You clearly know of something and you wish to hide it under this faux lesson.”
He slowed, looking over to his sister, who now leaned away with a startled posture. The knight begrudgingly sighed, then gathered his breath before lowering his voice into a subtle tangent of desperation. “So, out with it. And aid us in finding Mr. Miles.”
Klavier leaned forward, hovering over Apollo’s shoulder as he looked towards Godot. “Herr Bartender… I understand your concerns about Herr Baker parting with your tavern, but your assistance can bring peace to your dear apprentice. And, it would bring higher morale to your customers, would it not?”
The hardened posture of Godot stilled, keeping his gaze strong. Four travellers kept their sights against ruby lines, tension stringing stares taught. Even though his eyes were ones behind gems, they still packed the expressions of his complex contemplating.
Seconds burned in empty time. He rubbed a glass nearby with an empty thumb.
Godot sighed, gripping his suit with an empty hand.
“…All of your persistence is admirable, I must admit. I succumb.”
Phoenix’s eyes widened as Godot continued.
“Do you remember where the late Mia Fey practiced her magic? It was the fields Folk Forest, a wooden realm hidden within its brush for only the knowledged to find. There rests a high elf, gifted with knowledge of all magic. They know most and I shall guide you with directions to their abode.”
After a moment or two more of stunned silence, Trucy exclaimed, bouncing up and down. “My, THANK YOU!! Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU, UNCLE GODOT!!”
She continued her joy, nearly leaping over the counter to hug the red-eyed man. A smirk peaked on his dark lips while the other two men joined in celebration. Yet, Phoenix found his smiling persona lost within the in-between of ecstasy. The realms of relief and bliss.
Godot hadn’t shown that much passion for him and his findings in a long time. Was it something in Apollo’s eyes? Or in the suaveness of Klavier’s swoon? Or, just perhaps, he had stolen a glance in Phoenix’s worn pupils, seeing his true sorrow and loss for such a dear friend. Whatever he had felt in those moments, the dripping hints that poured from his mouth were as invaluable as gold.
The last time Godot spoke of kindness was when Mia kissed his temple and blessed him with her warmth.
And, in Godot’s own way, Phoenix felt his own temple flush with his fatherly love.
Phoenix mouthed a simple phrase. Thank you.
Godot nodded with a faint grin.
And then, the four travellers found themselves collected in their happiness, cheering for the journey that had suddenly parted before them.