Mirror of the Past

Sala 2- Iced sugarmilk, best dessert in the city

"Hey Sala, are you even listening to me?" Daliana said, a pout on her face, waving a cream crusted spoon in front of her.

Sala nodded, regaining focus of the conversation after daydreaming while looking out behind Daliana, to the great park that lived in the centre of Kerda. Packed with people walking through the flowers, lovers holding hands and parents keeping a careful eye on children. It really was a beautiful day. Her eyes flicked over to Daliana, the pout causing her face to scrunch up a little made her natural beauty come out even more, Sala was almost a bit gentle at how her friend pulled off the cute look so well. "No, 'course not Dali." She said, and took a wild shot at the topic of conversation, probably about the food they had or their lecture. "I was just thinking about what you said, and I sort of wanted to take you up on your offer to try some of that." Sala's eyes slid down to the iced sugarmilk that Daliana was making short work of, always claiming it was the best dessert in the world, not just the city.

Daliana made a low mumbling sound, clearly not happy at the prospect of having to share her food. "Hmph, fine." And she stuck out the spoon close enough that it almost hit Sala's nose. Sala took it from her and scooped up a piece of the dessert. "As I was saying, now that you've stolen my food, I want to go to the theatre on our day off." Damn, I was way off the mark. "Master Hall is performing The Ballad of Midnight Beauty, and my mum says it is really worth seeing. Can we go, please?" She begged, her voice going higher at the last word.

Sala slowly put the spoon into her mouth and savoured the cold sweetness of the dessert, flavourings of coffee and lemon subtly mixed with the sugary milk. Taking an unnecessary long time to finish enjoying it, just to tease Daliana that bit more, and putting the spoon back in the glass bowl, Daliana went from looking hopeful to worried. "Sure." Sala said smiling at her friend and shrugging her shoulders casually.

"Yes!" Daliana shouted and thumped the table loudly, spoon rattling in the bowl, before realising herself the level of the noise as several other customers in the café glanced in their direction. Daliana blushed fiercely and hid her face down, hunched over, and set about eating her dessert again, trying to ignore Sala's loud laughter and guffawing.

"I swear Dali, you make a fool of yourself every time we come here." Sala said wiping a tear from her eye. Daliana looked up and her pout came back with made Sala begin laughing again.

"Stop it Sala!" she hushed, indignant and getting annoyed, the blush even more red on her pale skin.

"Okay, okay Dali." Sala finished her laughter and raised her coffee to her lips and took a slow, careful mouthful. It was very bitter and the best coffee she had found in Kerda yet. It was a double blessing this place was Daliana's favourite café for their range of sweetcakes and desserts.

They had come here straight after their class had ended and Horal had dismissed them. The walk from the university took about a quarter of a sun's hand, with it being just before the lunch time rush as they entered. They were greeted warmly by the owner, an elderly man by the name of Key, with a heavy limp but never complained and loved walking amongst his customers. Key had long since learned their names over the last two years and had taken their lunch orders and beckoned them to their usual seat by the open window which had the best view of the pond in which children often swam as their parents basked in the sun. The park was huge, taking over four sun's hands to walk its perimeter. Lucky for them, the café was close to the university district, where most students came to relax during their time off.

Daliana had eaten her food ravenously and spent time watching the children run through the shallow parts of the pond, while Sala admired the cut of her face, not too round nor sharp, pale skin only lightly kissed by the sun. Golden eyes becoming brighter in the light and darker during the winter months, almost reflecting the loss of colour on the tree leaves that lined the park avenues. Sala had also watched the flower garden over Daliana's shoulder, seeing with blessed eyes the individual insects that flew to the flowers to kiss them and then move off to kiss another flower. Sala herself had picked at her salad slowly, enjoying the relaxing atmosphere and the songs of the birds, and the mixed conversations of the other patrons, all in the common tongue, but with a range of accents. Natives like Daliana were rare now in the city, as it had become a central trading and cultural hub, with all kinds of people setting up theatres, museums and galleries of all cultures and races.