I grabbed the tray of cloudberry rolls from the cooling rack and took them to the storefront to one of the front window display cases. A few of the golden berries poked through the crusts of the otherwise perfectly round rolls. As I rearranged them to make the little bakery as delicious as possible for opening day, I could see the faintest glimmer of daylight dyeing the sky purple on the horizon. The lightstone lamps along the street, which led into Astigan Cliff Park, showed that no one was awake yet except for me and Thansk, the baker and my boss.
Holding the empty tray to my chest, I couldn’t help but stand up a little taller – though it still wasn’t very tall – with pride. I had never thought I would live in the capital city, Toriss, but when Thansk finally saved enough to open his bakery up here, he wanted me to help him. It had taken some convincing, but my parents had finally agreed that I could go. Thansk, always the pillar of hospitality, offered me a room to stay in above the bakery, while I worked here. There were flying ferries that made runs from a town nearby to our little village at the base of the cliff up to Toriss and back, but even if Continue reading “Druzhba Cakes: Opening Day”