The evening passed on as restless as ever, the stars were burning their cores and neon lights were buzzing at the hyper-sound of migraines and ladies in uptight skirts were dancing across the palm of men as they threw their money at the roulette — to win or not, which excited them. People sought the glee and wonder of a night-time refuge to hopefully distance themselves from their lives when the sun calls them in. By this hour, people have fled to the safety of their own shelter, into the arms of their beloved ones while drunken men and female wandered the streets. But, one young woman with bright snow-white hair — translucent enough to change to silver under the moonlight — sauntered over the cobblestones of Era’s roads, bringing her tablespoons of simple ease as she stared at the spaces between each one.

Snowflake wasn’t going to a bar because she was feeling social — she would never be — it was mostly due to her cravings for alcohol on a particular lonely night. Due to her habits of wandering around often, the woman had discovered a raw diamond among all the shitholes that considered themselves ‘bars’ – the Duffy’s Pub. Even the name itself was cringy enough for her to say it out loud. While the food wasn’t the best in all of Era, perhaps even below average, the beverages certainly were not.

Her heels clacked against the floorboards, echoing through the alleyway, as she pushed the wooden doors open and entered the pub. Silver blue hues scanned the place and she was quickly disappointed by how little customers were loitering around the pub. Perhaps it was either early or the bar was running out of business. If that were true, she would have to go through the trouble of searching for a new cozy pub once again.

Snowflake approached the bar counter, took off her black coat that she wore on her shoulders and found herself a seat beside a blond man. Her outfit wasn’t as flamboyant as she would normally wear on a night out, but instead, she wore a silver crop top with a black tight fitting skirt, which was still fancy enough for someone who was planning to drink alone. The hunter crossed her legs and waved at the bartender, quietly gesturing him towards her.

”Whiskey.”

Out of curiosity, she glanced at the beverage that the man beside him had indulged in and almost winced in distaste at his choice. ”Are you going to drink that the entire night?” She might have possibly sounded insulting, but that she did not care. If he came out to a bar to get a drink, he might as well order something that’s better than a fruity cocktail. ”Here, you can have mine if you want.” She slid her glass of whiskey across the counter, offering him to take a sip from her glass.

"Well, whoever buys it doesn't matter. A drink is still a drink."

Snowflake swirled the whiskey in her glass that she shared with the blonde, listening to the chinking of the ice cubes, breathing in a fragrance that only years in an oak barrel can achieve. Already the worries of her day were beginning to fade, even before the first taste – just watching its gentle vortex was hypnotizing enough. When the liquid settled, she brought it to her lips and let the amber fluid sit in her mouth a while before swallowing. The stronger the alcohol, the better it was for her. She closed her eyes, dwelling only on the flavour; the keen burn that made her recoil every time she’d had her first taste. Even then, it was still the elixir of her life.

”Seems like you know a lot about Baska,” commented the female. ”During my stay there, I think I spent half my time at that pub—what was that called again,” she clicked her tongue, attempting to recall the name of that bar she visited so often that customers probably got sick of seeing her daily. ”Ah, right, the Boar Hat Pub.” She silently winced at how the name sounded. The name certainly was not catchy to the ears, but the beverages there were one of the best she had ever tasted.

And, so did this bar have awesome alcohol compared to the shitty ones that she’d tried before. It truly was shame that the place attracted so little customers that she wouldn’t be surprised if they had to close the pub down in a few days. ”Certainly is.” She lifted her glass, shrugging at the same time before she brought her drink to her lips again. She was drinking really fast tonight, and hopefully she wouldn’t end up wasted faster than she had expected. But, it was the least of her worries, for she knew she could hold her liquor longer than most males. It was one of her useless talent, though she was very proud of it.

”Well, maybe with a bit of investment, they could just refurbish this place. I’m sure the business will be back thriving,” she glanced over at the cushions that were probably eaten by rats, the old wooden floorboards and walls that would crash the instant someone punched through it. If it wasn’t for the alcohol, Snowflake wouldn’t even bother to visit with how shitty the vibe was here. Aside from that, she was rather taken aback with how social she was being today. Perhaps it was just the alcohol, or simply just the man seated beside her who wouldn’t stop getting her involved into his discussions. It wasn’t a bad thing, in fact, it was something she probably needed – to engage into a casual conversation and enjoy her drink.

Within just a minute or so, she had completely emptied her glass, without bothering to offer her newly attained acquaintance another sip. ”You could get me another glass of whiskey, preferably a bottle.” She hesitated and pondered for a moment, ”Or you could just promise me a lifetime of alcohol, how’s that?”

”Snowflake,” she began, a soft sound to couple with her soft appearance.

She actually meant it as a joke when she requested for a lifetime supply of liquor, but it seemed that the man might have taken it seriously. Albeit, it was still very nice of him to offer her enough beverages to last for the rest of the night. ”That’s very nice of you,” spoke the female, with a hint of a smile curving onto the line of her lips. Oh, he was such a pure-hearted man, it almost made her feel guilty for taking advantage of his kindness.

The woman had been struggling a bit with her income these recent days, considering how she hadn’t been able to pick up any missions and somehow, most of her savings were gone within a blink of an eye either on her equipment, booze or travelling. An exhausted sigh left her lips. Money was also one of her worries that had been bothering her for quite some time, but at the very least, she found someone who was willing to buy her a few drinks.

”Not a problem,” she nudged her glass that had been refilled by the bartender towards the blonde. Sharing the same drink with a stranger was probably one of the most peculiar things that she had done. She wouldn’t have minded if it was someone she knew well – like Alisa, for example – but he was someone she met just a few minutes ago and they were acting as if they had been buddies for ages.

”So, you said you were a chef. You must be really good at cooking then,” the snow haired maiden raised her eyebrow in curiosity. A man with an ability to cook properly at the least was a rare find these days – she couldn’t hide the fact that she was impressed with him. ”Mind sharing me some of your recipes? I, myself, do enjoy a bit of cooking” – though she clearly wasn’t the best, from her lengthy record of burning pancakes and omelettes.  

Cracked and dry with age, the thin volume smells faintly of the blonde’s scent. The pages within are brittle and the journal’s condition almost looked anew, as if he had just purchased it, despite the many recipes that filled the pages. The brown papers rustled as she thumbed through the book to find what she was looking for. Words appeared and disappeared as her eyes flickered across the pages, quickly picking out anything of importance from the jumble of sentences that littered the word she had become immersed in.

”I must say,” Snowflake’s composure festered slightly in astonishment, a pregnant pause stopping the flow of conversation. ”You’re really thorough with your recipes.” Her fingers brushed over the ink and colours that were engraved, feeling the texture of them before flipping onto another page. ”What’re these maps for?” Reading over the notes that were scribbled on the maps, she came to the realization that the maps had information about specific locations, and even shortcuts of the town to help with directions. Considering how horrible her sense of direction was, perhaps she could take this as a tip to create a book of her own filled with maps to help her get to places without getting lost.

She couldn’t deny the fact that his notebook showed a lot about his personality; the way he took care of his journal, she could see that it was of importance to him and all the details that were included – she understood them enough to tell that he was rather detail-oriented. ”Well, I can say for sure that your journal is definitely better than mine.” The woman hinted a smile, as she continued to flip through the pages. Books had always been her favourite, mostly novels, but she still enjoyed reading journals and documentaries. In a way, they are the legacy their author’s thoughts, preserving ideas that would otherwise be as fleeting as the song of a bird.

”Which recipe is your favourite in here?” the woman lifted her gaze to meet his, her eyes crossing over the gaze of blue. If she was going to take a recipe, she would rather just rip a page of his favourite recipe or one the he considered the best, so she could see it for herself. As much as she would have loved to try them out all, she didn’t really have the patience nor the time to cook compared to her older days. ”Oh, yeah? I’d love that.” It was very kind of him to offer to cook for her, that way, she could try his cooking in person – not to mention, she would be getting free food, so who wouldn’t be up for that?

”I wish I had thought of that earlier. I’m such a loser when it comes to directions,” the woman scowled in disappointment, to none other than herself. It was no lie, her directional sense was significantly awful that even until now, she would still get lost among the streets despite travelling to the town countless number of times. ”Well, I can say for sure that these maps give more details than the maps I’ve seen my entire life.” In case she needed to discover more of Fiore, she could probably always rely on Zane’s map to get her somewhere.

This was most likely the first time that Snowflake had ever spoken so much to someone in her life. Perhaps it was the alcohol that made her feel more social than she was, usually. It wasn’t a bad thing – in fact, she enjoyed it and she was even surprised that she could naturally talk this much with someone she had just met, for someone with very little words. ”Oh, I do. Quite a lot, actually. It’s always good to keep memories, even the bad ones.” One could say she was a sentimental person – she truly was, despite how she may not look like one – and she knew that if she were to get old, she would flip through the pages of her old journals and all those precious memories would bring a smile onto her face.

She would let the blonde turn the pages to what they were looking for, and there it was – his favourite recipe. The woman leaned into the journal, just to get a closer view of the recipe and the image of the finished meal attached to the corner of the page. ”You’re really good at this. In the beginning, I actually thought you were bluffing.” She’d never cooked stew before, so hopefully, it wouldn’t turn out as bad as she’d imagined it to be, but hey, she wasn’t that bad of a cook either. ”Thank you,” she steadily folded the parchment paper, end per end, and further buried it in the holes of her coat. ”I’ll make sure to try it and inform you of the result the next time we meet.”

”That’s very observant of you,” she raised an impressive eyebrow, her hand reaching for the whiskey glass that had just been filled up by the bartender. ”Well, you’re not wrong. I think I can hold my liquor quite more than others.” Hesitance breathed in a little, a shallow puff between her words before she added, ”But, I’m not really familiar of drinking games, so perhaps I could test my abilities.” Amused, she crossed her legs, her heels slightly scraping against the metal stands of the stool.

Her eyes involuntarily glanced towards the clock hung up far on the wall, where it chimed way past midnight. It wasn’t as though her magic was going to wear off for whatever reason – she was no Cinderella – but even then, she still needed to return home before it was too late. ”As much as my competitive self would love to empty the bar’s liquor storage, I have to return home,” she spoke, a small frown rising onto her lips. It was rather unfortunate for her that the night would end so fast. For someone who had always crawled up in her little hole of solitude, the joy of having a decent company was an element of enjoyment to her, as rare as it was.

”Thank you for the drinks. If we’re meant to pass ways again, we’ll surely see each other soon.”

With that, she exited the bar, her heels clacking against the wooden floorboards. Her hand edged inside her pocket to reach for the paper torn from the journal that Zane had shared with her and she caught herself smiling in a very very long time, as her hands ran over the rough edges of the yellow parchment.