In a bustling city, a middle-aged woman stood behind the counter of a small bakery. She had a white cloth wrapped around her head and another draped over her clothes, marking her as a baker. She appeared to be in her 40s, her figure slightly chubby but warm and welcoming.
The shelves were empty now, the day's work nearly done. Outside, the fading light signaled the approaching night. She handed over the final order to a well-dressed woman who smiled as she took the neatly packed goods.
"Thank you," the well-dressed woman said politely.
"Please come again!" the baker responded with a bright smile, retreating her hand.
As the customer left, the baker stepped from behind the counter, made her way to the door, and closed it. The shop was now silent, save for the faint hum of the ovens cooling down. She returned to the counter and began counting the coins she'd collected for the day.
"This should be enough," she thought with a content smile, placing the coins into a large pouch. Carrying it to the back, she entered the kitchen, where a young man stood kneading dough, his back to her.
"Edward," she called softly.
The young man turned, revealing a well-defined face framed by jet-black hair and dark eyes. His athletic build spoke of strength despite the humble setting, and his demeanor carried a quiet confidence.
"All sold?" Edward asked with a smile, his hands still working the dough.
"Yes, thanks to you," the woman replied with a pleasant grin.
Edward chuckled. "I'm almost done with this. Just one last batch."
The woman hesitated, then asked, "Are you sure you don't want to work here anymore?"
Her voice carried a note of disappointment, but Edward replied with a faint smile, "Yeah. I'm actually leaving the Glacial Expanse."
The baker's expression shifted to concern. "And where will you go?" she asked.
"I don't know yet," Edward replied, finally finishing his kneading. He turned fully to face her. "I guess... wherever fate takes me."
The woman approached him, holding out the pouch of coins she had counted earlier. "Here. Take this."
Edward frowned as he looked at the hefty pouch. "But this is more than what I've earned."
The woman reached for his hand, gently placing the pouch into it. "Keep it," she said firmly. "It will help you on your journey. Besides, you've earned this and more. If not for you, I wouldn't have been able to gather so many coins in the first place. Your idea to use curd instead of barm to make bread, and that buttercream frosting you invented... even nobles have started visiting this place because of you."
Edward's lips curved into a small smile. "Thank you," he said softly, pocketing the pouch.
They spent the next few moments cleaning the shop and locking up. As they exchanged goodbyes, Edward's gaze lingered on the woman who had become a significant part of his life in the city. Finally, he turned and left, heading back toward the slums.
Edward stood before his home, staring at the dim light of a candle flickering inside. Voices carried faintly through the deteriorated walls, but he didn't move. After a long moment, he turned away and walked off without stepping inside.
His destination was Mr. Delver's house. The home had undergone many renovations over the years, making it a much more comfortable place. Edward opened the door and stepped inside.
"I'm home," Edward called out, his voice calm but distant.
"Welcome back!" came Mr. Delver's warm voice from another room. "Dinner is ready. Freshen up before supper."
Without a word, Edward removed his cloak, hanging it neatly on the coat rack near the door. He ascended the stairs to his room, removed his outer layers, and washed his hands and face. Sitting on the bed, his expression betrayed the turmoil within. His gaze fell on the pouch of coins that had fallen onto the floor with his clothes.
Edward picked it up and muttered to himself, "I would have earned so much more if it weren't for needing approval from nobles for every new business or invention."
Before his thoughts could wander further, the sound of the main gate opening broke through the silence. Voices followed, familiar and lively. Edward placed the pouch on the table and descended the stairs to see who it was.
"Here he is!" Jin's cheerful voice rang out as he spotted Edward at the top of the stairs.
"Hi, Ed!" Shane chimed in, grinning.
Edward's brows furrowed in confusion as he approached the pair. "What brings you two here?" he asked.
"I invited them," Mr. Delver said, emerging from the room behind Edward.
"Yeah, bro!" Jin added, slinging an arm over Edward's shoulder. "We have to celebrate your birthday properly. No way are you leaving us behind without saying goodbye!"
The group burst into laughter and made their way to the dining room. The evening was filled with chatter, laughter, and the cutting of a modest cake. Mr. Delver brought out ale for the boys, who enjoyed it as the night wore on. Eventually, Jin and Shane departed, leaving Edward and Mr. Delver alone at the table.
The atmosphere grew quieter, and an eerie silence settled between the two. Edward leaned back slightly, a faint buzz from the ale evident in his relaxed posture. Across from him, Mr. Delver leaned forward, his hands resting on the table.
"So, you haven't changed your mind?" Mr. Delver finally asked.
Edward straightened and shook his head. "No... I'm sorry, Mr. Delver."
Mr. Delver chuckled. "It's been five years. You still haven't dropped the 'Mr.'"
Edward's gaze fell, his thoughts momentarily distant. After Agatha's death, he had built walls around himself, afraid of the pain that came with attachment. He never grew close to anyone again, including Mr. Delver, despite the older man's care.
Unbeknownst to Mr. Delver, Edward had spent years secretly practicing mana, driven by a desire to uncover the truth about his identity. He wanted answers to the questions that haunted him: Who am I? Was he Edward? Edmund? Gaon? He needed to understand what had happened to the Hawthorne and Valliswood families and his mother.
Edward's desire to leave the slums wasn't just about escaping its harsh conditions—it was about finding closure. But each time he tried to leave, Mr. Delver stopped him, even intercepting his secretive attempts. Finally, they struck a deal: Edward could leave once he turned 17.
The morning light spilled into the house as Edward stood by the gate, a bag slung over his shoulder.
"Did you pack warm clothes and enough food?" Mr. Delver asked, approaching him.
"Yes, Mr. Delver," Edward replied with a faint smile.
The older man held out a cloth-wrapped object. "Take this. It will help you on your journey."
Edward unwrapped it carefully, revealing a finely crafted dagger with a sheath. The blade bore an engraving of three rings crossing to form a star.
"Thank you," Edward said sincerely.
Mr. Delver stepped forward and hugged him tightly, his voice thick with emotion. "Take care, son."
Edward hesitated, but then wrapped his arms around Mr. Delver in return. "I will."
They broke apart, and Edward smiled faintly. "Goodbye."
Mr. Delver shook his head. "Not goodbye—see you soon."
Edward nodded and turned, walking away.
In the cave that housed Agatha's grave, Edward stood silently. His gaze rested on the simple marker, his thoughts heavy.
"Hi, Grandma," he said softly. "I won't be able to come back for a while. I know you told me to stay safe, and I will. But I need to know who I am."
He paused, his voice trembling slightly. "Whatever I find out... I know one thing for sure—I'm your grandson, and I'm proud of it." With a slight pause Edward started saying "Goo~" but abruptly paused
Edward chuckled lightly, his eyes moist. "See you soon," he added, placing a white flower on her grave.
As he left the cave, the light of dawn cast a warm glow over the snow-laden slums. Edward stepped forward, ready to face the unknown.