Grimm Tales: Rise of the Yokai

Chapter 2: Dragon's Roost

As we walked through the front doors, I looked around the restaurant. It was easy to see why so many people loved this place. To my right, booths lined the sand-colored walls, and every spare inch seemed to be covered in pictures. A couch and some plush chairs had been gathered around a large fireplace in one corner, perfect for enjoying a book and coffee during the colder months.

Tables filled most of the remaining space, the wood floors looking worn but well maintained. Every table was overflowing with people. To my left, more diners, mostly couples or people eating alone, were sitting at the large counter. Through the window behind the counter I caught a glimpse of the kitchen, a madhouse of activity this time of day.

We made a beeline for one of the big corner booths at the far side of the restaurant. Nearby, large glass doors opened out to the rear patio, where I could see every table was packed with people. A band played from a low stage while the guests ate and drank, heads bobbing and feet tapping to the music.

Sitting at the booth were a couple who looked like they'd jumped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. The dark-haired woman wore a simple flowing sundress of deep purple. A small locket hung from a delicate silver chain around her neck. She tucked a lock of wavy hair behind her ear as she leisurely sipped at a glass filled with something such a violent shade of electric green, I was sure there was no way it was meant for human consumption.

The man sitting across from her wore a simple black t-shirt, distressed jeans, and a pair of comfortable looking leather boots. His tall frame projected an aura of calm strength, the sleeves of his shirt tight around trim arms packed with muscle. His dark windswept hair faded into a shadow of stubble around his face, and his dark eyes scanned the room as he took a sip from his beer.

The woman's face lit up when she saw me. She stood, smiling, arms open wide.

"Happy birthday, sweetie," she said, pulling me into a tight hug.

"Thanks, Mom," I said.

As my mother did her best to crush me, I looked over her shoulder at my dad, who just shook his head and laughed, before raising his drink to me in a silent toast. Dad always was more of the quiet type.

"Morgan, let the boy breathe," he said, a grin pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Mom released me and held me at arms' length, looking me up and down.

"So handsome," she said in the light British accent both my parents shared. An accent, I'm sorry to say, that I didn't inherit. "Every day you look more and more like your father. Eric's hair never seems to want to behave either."

I reached up and ran a hand through my short brown hair. She was right, of course. It seemed like no matter what I tried, my hair just did whatever it wanted. At least if I kept it short it looked intentional, rather than like I was just too lazy to be bothered with fixing it.

"There's the birthday boy!"

I turned and came face to face with the owners of the Dragon's Roost.

"Hey Nick," I said. "Hey Penny."

Nick's black hair was as disheveled as always, framing a friendly face. The only sign of his real age was the smile lines around his eyes. His wife, Penny, had tied her cinnamon-colored hair back into a loose bun, and her eyes, though dark like Nick's, were just as warm. Neither of them looked like they could be older than their mid-thirties. Not bad for a couple who are pushing seven hundred years old.

Before they came to Crystal City, they lived in France, though any accent they had is long gone by now. In the Mundane world they're better known by their full names: Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel. Nick and Penny are alchemists. Think scientists, but with magic. Anyway, a long time ago they managed to create a Philosopher's Stone, which, along with a few other perks, made them immortal.