Clouds speckled the sky like foam licking the shore casting patches of shadow on all that lay beneath their domain. Winter was reaching its end, and with it the town of Hargeon was coming back to life. It did not get nearly as cold as its more northern neighbors, though you'd never convince the citizens of that. Any weather below 18 degrees Celsius was almost too cold for activity to them, and this winter was unusually cold indeed. Word had spread of farms in Marigold becoming baron, devoid of all life and filled instead with only the evidence that life was there at all.
There was but a single survivor, a woman in her late fifties. She was disheveled, eyes wide and covered in circles that were almost as dark as night. She kept screaming about some man, though who it was exactly no one could tell. "He came from the sky" and "He's still hungry" were all she could manage, and even then she had deteriorated further to a point of mere panic.
To those within Marigold it had been enough for them to group together and had all but shut the town down, but for others it was no more than a ghost tale. Who would believe the words of a woman who was so obviously mad? Certainly something beyond normal explanation may have happened. To believe that some man from the sky came down and ate people was another story entirely. The only thing that was for certain was the modus operandi of whoever the culprit had been; A single, small hole somewhere within the clothing. It often was found in the back or around the stomach, though sometimes it roamed into the chest area. Never more than one, but in every pair of now empty clothes.
To expect all cities to come to a halt was a bit of a stretch. The Rune Knights, men and women of peace, would be dispatched soon enough. Excluding some freak event that caused their delay, there would be only a short time before investigators made their way to the farms. In the meantime it would be enough to merely be on the lookout for suspicious activity and to stay in public areas.
Still others had not heard of it at all. Such mysteries were loved by many, but word traveled slow. Details became scrambled and information had only word of mouth to go on. The few knights who had already been stationed within Marigold attempted to keep the information under wraps until they could figure out what had been going on, but they could only travel so fast. They had not even reached Era yet, let alone propagated the facts.
If there was any commotion at all it would not be found within the 8-Island. The restaurant itself was situated by the water. The sound that circulated the oceanfront eatery was two parts noise and joviality, one part ocean and seabird squalls. The people there were all dressed in their best attire as if there was something to celebrate. The restaurant was broken into a variety of parties, a plethora of them being four to six people per table and a few groups of ten or more. Service staff hustled to and fro, bringing with them exotic wines and fresh seafood.
At the front of the restaurant lay a kiosk that hosted both the maitre d and a lacrima that was in charge of hosting incoming reservations. Such a device was a lucrative thing, but a restaurant such as the 8-Island spared no expense for its patrons. Once the summer was in full swing it would relax into more of a cordial place. Until then, however, it made its income by hosting only the best.
"Thank you, Sir. Please take a seat either indoors or out. We shall call you when a table is available." The line to request a table stretched to the door, and those who had already reserved their place in it stretched even outside. This was the busiest day they'd had thus far that year, and all of the guests were of the higher class. This would be a record breaking day!
The lacrima began to glow a feint blue, indicating an incoming request. The manager, who was also in charge of seating his guests, waved a hand over it to accept the call. "Hello, you have reached 8-Island. How may I help you?" A wail came over the phone, though it was feint. It sounded similar to a gust of wind passing through a building with far too many crevices. Deep and long, sputtering out within a few seconds. "Sir?"
"Oh I am so sorry, I was just finishing a drink! I am calling to make a reservation!" The manager glanced up at the long line before him, a smirk on his face. Whoever this was had been well off enough to afford an audio communications lacrima, but they would not be worming their way up in line. He had a reputation to uphold. With minimal delay, he would inquire how many seats the caller required.
"Oh it's just me!" The voice was upbeat, happier than even the patrons. Oh the joys of the wealthy the manager thought to himself with a chuckle. "Of course sir. I'm afraid all our chairs are currently taken, and the line is quite literally flooding out of the restaurant. I suspect an hour long wait time at the minimum."
"Perfect!"
With that, the transmission would end. The maitre d would look at his lacrima with a quizzical look. The man indeed sounded interested, likely an older gentlemen based off the sheer rasp in his voice. He hadn't left so much as a name though. If he expected a place in line, that was no way to request one.
The screams of the seabirds grew louder, their noise now practically surrounding the restaurant. They must have practically been flocking the area with how loud they were. It was likely that the cook staff had thrown the first batch of trash out. Their waste often contained seafood carcasses and parts that could not be used. It attracted the birds in bulk, but this was just ridiculous. It sounded like people at this point.
"Sir, how much longer is the wait, I am starving?" As the manager glanced at the schedule, the bell at the front signaled the door opening. Glancing up, the mans jaw dropped. Never in all his years had he seen a being like this. It was tall with a head parting in vectors, splattered different shades of green and a bright orange. Its mouth hardly resembled a mouth at all, but he could have sworn it was smiling.
"Ohhh," the creature began, sounding devilishly familiar. There was a shudder in its voice, retaining an excitement that seemed ready to burst forth. "I have heard so much about this place! And I am starving!" The patrons laughed and nodded in agreement as the being walked to the front desk.
"Yes, I called about a table for one." The managers face reflected a knowing expression as if he had connected the dots. "Ah yes, well as I said there is quite the wait."
Hands to his hips, the green being shook his head. "Now that won't do at all. I have a schedule to keep. I guess I'll just have to eat on the go!" Before questions could be asked, internally or verbally, action had been taken. The green beast's tail stabbed backwards, impaling the stomach of the man who had been questioning the wait time. Gasps and screams radiated in unison as the man seemed to melt away from his clothes. If anyone had known of Marigold, they were not thinking of it now. In fact, they were thinking nothing at all. Their minds had blanked in shock and fear.
"What an appetizer! But we both know that this places real allure lies with its main course." Laughter erupted from this sole being as the people in the front of the restaurant began to scream and scramble. The chaos spread like an infection, quickly alerting more and more members of the restaurant that something was amiss. It was much too late for them, though.
One by one they disappeared, resembling the very entrees that made up their table. To him, they were no more than a meal. Sustenance that he both required and enjoyed. Echos of fear incarnate and questions as to why echoed through the restaurant as he made his rounds both on the first floor and the one above, though soon even those quieted. After only fifteen minutes the restaurant was devoid of all life but one.
Making his way out the same way he had come, a hand moved to his stomach. "Oh I am peckish. I guess I'll just have to browse! I hope I don't lose my figure..." Walking forward, Cell saw this town in the same way a kid would see a candy shop in which he was left alone.
It was time to dine.