Turning around with a jump, eye stalks shooting forward, Balthazar smelled the surrounding air. There was no mistaking it, that was the wonderful smell he had experiehe day before, but somehow even stronger and more delicious.

  Tripping over his own legs, he rushed towards the road, and looking up iown’s dire, he saw the small frame of a girl with a basket hooked to her arm. She was a young woman, but her sun-kissed skin and slightly toned arms implied she was ner to bor, as did her peasant outfit, posed of simple shoes, a on white dress, and a headscarf tied above her forehead, keeping off her fay stray hairs not tied irawberry blonde braid that was draped down her back. She was clearly not like the adventurers Balthazar was used to seeing around. Quickly peering through his monocle, he firmed what he already suspected.

  [Level 5 Baker]

  “Hello.” The girl waved at him with a friendly smile. “Are you Balthazar?”

  Standing on the side of the road with a dumb expression and eyes fixated on the basket she was carrying, the crab only managed an attempt at mouthing a few words, except instead of sound, they produced small bubbles.

  “Oh no, I hope I didn’t get the wrong crab.”

  “No, no!” the crab shouted, snapping out of his trance. “Me, Balthazar, that’s me, yes, I’m me!”

  “Oh good, I was worried there for a moment,” the girl said, smile ba her face. “I heard you were looking for a baker?”

  “Yes, yes. Are you the one? Do you create... Slices of Apple Pie?”

  Balthazar’s tiny eyes were shiny, like the ones of a small child pleading to their parents.

  The girl looked at the crab with a blink before letting out a hearty ugh.

  “Well, I do make pies, and some of them are apple pies. And I suppose I often cut them into slices too, so yes, I guess that’s me.”

  “Magnifit!” Balthazar excimed.

  “The nice man that told me about you mentiohe part about the pies, so I figured it was a good idea t some with me.”

  Taking the wicker basket off her arm, she leaned over slightly and lifted one lid, revealing not just a slice, but aire perfectly circur fresh apple pie.

  Balthazar felt all eight of his legs going weak, but trying to hold himself together, he sighe girl. “Not here. e, follow me.”

  Quickly crossing the water to his inner islet with the baker close behind, doing her best not to get her shoes wet—not very successfully—or fall ier, they both sat dowo a wooden board with some retly purchased items on it that Balthazar had been s through.

  “ever be too careful,” he began, scouting the surrounding skies with a slightly paranoid look. “They might show up when you least expect them.”

  “They?” the girl inquired, trying to look for something in the air that wasn’t there.

  “Yes, the birds, tricky little beasts. rust one if you know what’s good for you.” He quickly ged demeanor. “But never mind them now, please, would you mind…”

  His eyes were greedily staring at the basket she had id down in front of her knees.

  “Of course,” she said, with a warm smile, while opening the basket.

  Pulling the pte with the pie and a knife from within it, the girl pced it on ay area of the wooden board and carefully carved out a generous slice, its moist apple filling glistening as she brought it up from the main piece, and ha over to the crab’s awaiting pincers.

  With ation, Balthazar took the tip of the triangur slid bit into it. There were no words he could find to express the joy he felt in that moment, finally tasting that delicious treat again. It was eveer than the one he had received from the adventurer, probably because this one was much fresher than the slice that, most likely, spent a couple of days or more traveling inside a bag. Each thinly sliced piece of apple c it perfectly caramelized, its filling was the sweetest thing he had ever experienced, and even the crust was soft and the right amount of crumbly.

  “Itsh justsh sho good,” Balthazar said, with his mouth full, between loud chewing. The girl smiled and chuckled at the crab, a satisfa painted on her face despite his poor manners.

  “I’m really gd you like it,” she said. “It really makes my day to wateoruly enjoy something I made.”

  “I don’t just like it, I love it!” he respoossing the st piece of his slito his mouth.

  “Where are my manners? I just realized I haven’t properly introduced myself,” she suddenly said, g her hands together. “I’m Madeleine, pleased to meet you. "

  “ht, o meet you, Madeleine,” he said, while clearing the crumbs around his mouth with his pincers. “I’m Balthazar, but I suppose you already khat.”

  “Yes, your envoy told me your name,” Madeleine expined. “And that’s a very niame, Balthazar.”

  “Thanks. But may I ask you, how do you create these?”

  “The pie?” she asked, looking at the pte between them. “I just bake them myself, you know, get ingredients, make the dough, add some love, put it in the oven, all that. I started when I was little. It was my grandmother who taught me.”

  “Of course,” Balthazar pondered, rubbing his which still had some crumbs on it, “it makes sehis would be an a knowledge passed down through the geions and required years of practice.”

  “You’re a funny crab, you know that?” Madeleine ughed. “It’s just baking. Plenty of people do it. I’m no one special. Even in town, there are many others who bake things, pies, other cakes, bread, cookies, you . At most, I might be the only one who does it as her full-time job, but that’s about it.”

  “You joke, surely?” the crab asked in disbelief. “There are others who produce these treasures, and there’s other varieties besides this one?”

  “Of course. In fact,” the baker said, as she lifted the other lid of her basket, “I wasn’t sure whie t over, so I decided t both an apple and a pumpkin pie.”

  Balthazar’s jaw dropped as he saw a sed pie, this one more e in color and with no slices of fruit c it, emerge from the basket.

  “Would you like another slice?”

  “You know I do, miss baker!”

  With a joyful smile on her freckled face, Madeleine served the crab a slice of pumpkin pie, before cutting a slightly smaller one for herself.

  They both sat uhe sparse shade of the old tree, as the water calmly rolled from the creek and across the surface of the pond, gentle ripples fading before reag the shore, the beautiful sound of no birds singing in the air, while enjoying their treat.

  “So, tell me,” she said, between small bites of her slice, “how did you discover pie in the first pce?”

  “Oh, you see, there were these two adventurers,” Balthazar begaween not so small bites, “and one of them wahis sword stu that stone over there. So, long story short, we made a trade, his slice of pie for the sword. A sucker, that one was, I tell you.”

  The girl looked at him with an amused expression of someone who wasn’t sure if he was joking or not.

  “Well, alright then. That’s one way to earn a slice of pie, I guess.”

  “And sihen, I’ve been looking for an opportunity to ask an adventurer where I could get more of it.” Balthazar took an k of pie into his mouth. “So, you’re a trader too? You sell these in town?”

  “I wouldn’t call myself a trader,” she said. “I just bake my little things and thehem for a few gold s at my little market stand iown square. It’s simple work, but I enjoy it.”

  “Sounds like trading to me. And you work alone like me, too?”

  “Yes, I do.” Her smile died down slightly, but not pletely. “It used to be me and my mother. We had a much bigger market stall then, but siess took her years ago, so now it’s just me and my pans.”

  “Oh.” The crab stopped chewing, unsure how to hahe unfamiliar situation. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s alright, she always taught me not to let bad things get me down, and I’ve been doing that ever sihe girl said, her smile slowly returning in full. “Me and my pans, staying busy every day, baking away!”

  “Gd you enjoy what you do,” Balthazar said with an attempt at a smile, as he returo his chewing, gd to have avoided an awkward moment.

  “How did you learn to speak, anyway?” asked Madeleine.

  Interrupting his chewing, Balthazar did his best not to choke on the piece of pie that had just gone down a little too fast. He wasly looking forward to the expnation of how he touched a mysterious glowing scroll taken from an adventurer who died right in front of him the previous m.

  “I, uh… just woke up like this one day.”

  “Really?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yep. One day I was just doing normal crab stuff, and the I wake up and I was like this. Weird, I know, but what ya do?”

  “The gods sure work in mysterious ways,” the baker said, pensively.

  “Sure do. Anyway, sihen, and once I realized I o find more of this delicious pie, I began trading goods with passing adventurers in order to earn some . Which reminds me…”

  Balthazar pulled out a purse and carefully ope with the tips of his pincers. “How much for these?”

  “Oh,” the girl said, “you really don’t have to. While I do sell my baking at the market in town most days, I ’t really bring myself to take the money of someone who went to such lengths just to taste something I baked. The whole reason I came here in the first pce was because I couldn’t believe there was a talking crab asking for a pie baker, and I wao see it with my own eyes. Besides, you gave me an excuse to take a few hours off and e down to this beautiful pond and spend some time watg someone enjoy something I made more than I think I’ve ever seen anyone do.”

  “Are you sure?” Balthazar insisted, “I really don’t want any rumors spreading around that I don’t pay for my stuff.”

  “Yes, I’m sure. You keep your money and this stays just between us. I don’t want anyone knowing I give out free pies either,” she said to him with a pyful wink.

  “Alright then, but just know that I’ll be wanting more of these, aime I will be paying.”

  “Yes, sir!” Madeleine said, while standing up and doing a mog salute.

  “In fact, once I have a rge enough fortune, I would be very ied in paying you for the secrets of your craft.”

  “The secrets of my craft?” she repeated at him, stifling her ughter. “They are just recipes. Here, if you want to get started, I’ll even lend you one of my recipe books.”

  Pulling the satchel she was wearing across her torso to the front of her waist, Madeleirieved a thick book with a green checkered hard cover from within and offered it to the crab.

  “I always carry oh me in case I get bored and want to do some reading. Don’t judge, reading cookbooks is my form of eai!”

  Balthazar took the book into his pincers, feeling an unusual sense of humility.

  “Are you sure? This must be of great value to you.”

  “Don’t worry, I have piles of different recipe books bae,” she assured him with a frank smile. “Besides, this isn’t another freebie. I’m only lending you the book. You have to give it back when you’re done reading it. And you’d better take good care of it, if you get it wet I won’t be bringing you any more pie!”

  “Thank you, Madeleine,” Balthazar said, with a smile.

  “You’re wele, sir crab. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got my own busio return to.”

  “Of course. And remember, if you need anything from my wares, just say the word. I’ll even give you a friendly dist.”

  “So we’re friends now, eh?” she said pyfully. “’t say I ever befriended a crab before, but I’d be very happy to be your friend, Balthazar.”

  “Same here, baker girl. I hope we will tihis friendship for a long and sweet time!”

  As the pair crossed back to the edge of the pond, the girl stopped and looked at the assortment of items id out on the rug.

  “Hmm, you know, I do need a new wooden spoon.”

  “Say no more!” Balthazar grabbed the wooden spoon that was dispyed between a cracked dle and a slightly rusty butter knife, and offered it to Madeleine. “Let’s sider this a trade for the two pies, shall we?”

  “Fih me,” she agreed, taking the spoon and putting it inside her basket.

  “Pleasure doing business with you,” Balthazar said.

  “I will e ba a few days for the book and the ptes, and I’ll be sure t you something else for your sweet tooth.”

  Waving his cw at the girl as she walked back up the road, Balthazar felt a sense of satisfa he wasn’t familiar with until then. The previous day had been chaotid full of great ges to his routine, but today was like a great pay-off, with his business pns beginning to take shape and his search for the source of delicious pie bearing fruits, he found himself excited for the ing days, and to find out what they would bring.

  [Items traded. Experience gained.]

  [[Wooden Spoon] traded for [Apple Pie] + [Pumpkin Pie]]

  [You have reached Level 5!]

  The notification startled Balthazar as it appeared, but he found himself more ied in something else instead. He was still holding the book of recipes the baker had given him, and he was w if even he, a crab, would ever be able to make such magical creations as the pies she had brought him today. As he opehe book to a random page and began looking through it, eyes darting from one page to the , a frown began to form in his expression.

  “I ’t read any of this!”