Dragonsbane.

It was a beautiful autumn morning in Oxford, and the city was bathed in the golden softness of the season. The trees, like artists wielding vibrant brushes, were draped in shades of orange, red, and yellow. Their warm-hued leaves swayed lazily to the rhythm of a cool breeze that meandered through the city's narrow, quiet streets. The air was rich with the earthy scent of damp soil and dried leaves, while the morning mist, like a thin blanket, slowly began to lift. The first rays of sunlight pierced through, touching the facades of old buildings and the surrounding fields, making the city seem to stir gently, as if the very atmosphere were breathing a tranquil, welcoming peace. The sound of students' footsteps echoed on the cobbled sidewalks, blending with the distant hum of conversations that slowly began to fill the space as Oxford gradually awakened to yet another day.

I had just left the library after returning, for the fifth time, the books my friends had simply forgotten. They were dangerously close to their due dates, and, as always, I—having somehow been deemed the "keeper" of our little borrowed collection—had taken it upon myself to complete the task, yet again. Despite my annoyance at the situation, I couldn't help but smile.

"I really am a good friend," I thought, half-skeptical but amused by the whole ordeal.

"They're definitely buying me breakfast today—no excuses." I grinned, already thinking about where I should stop for a bite.

Autumn had always been my favorite season—when the city turned into a vibrant painting, its colors absorbing the calm and stillness of the surroundings. It was as if time itself stretched out, letting me breathe a little deeper, savoring the serenity and slower pace of life. Each step felt more deliberate, more reflective, while the dry leaves crackled beneath my feet, like a silent melody keeping pace with my walking rhythm.

As I strolled through the quiet streets, I headed toward the house my friends and I rented to live together. In truth, it was Elizabeth and Benjamin—having arrived first—who rented the massive house, assuming we would all end up living together sooner or later. I still remember the first time I stepped into it; the impact was immediate. The photos had impressed me, but nothing compared to seeing it in person. The house was grander than I had imagined, and I couldn't help but feel a bit small, overwhelmed by its sheer size. It was a different feeling—one that only someone experiencing the present moment could truly understand.

As I neared the front door, my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was Elizabeth. "Dalton! Good morning and joy!" she exclaimed. Her voice sounded more cheerful than usual, which made me think that something good must have happened while I was at the library.

"Good morning, Liz. Judging by your tone, it sounds like something good happened, right?" I replied, smiling, even though I had no idea what could have her so excited. Liz rarely showed this kind of enthusiasm, and today it was obvious something special was going on. After all, it was an autumn morning, and Oxford seemed to have awakened with a different glow, as if the very atmosphere hinted at good news.

"As expected of you, Dalton—always so perceptive," she replied, her excitement palpable. "Yes, something great happened! Midori sold one of her artworks for an absurdly high price!" The joy in her voice was contagious, and I couldn't help but grin. After all, one person's success was everyone's success. When we decided to live together, one of the most important unwritten rules we established was just that: whenever one of us achieved something, it was cause for celebration for all. Sure, there were exceptions, but for the most part, that's how we worked.

"It's a bit impolite to share everything over the phone," Liz continued, her voice tinged with mystery. "But to celebrate, we've decided to check out a new restaurant that just opened. The reviews say it's fantastic."

A deep voice, one I recognized instantly, interrupted her in the background with a teasing tone.

"Tell him if he's late, we're starting without him."

It was Carlos, with his usual irreverent sense of humor—but of course, we all knew he wasn't joking. When it came to food, Carlos always had the final say.

"Well, you heard him, didn't you? See you soon, and don't be late!" Liz wrapped up the call in her usual upbeat and carefree manner. I laughed to myself as I slid my phone back into my pocket, already picturing them waiting for me while I hurried to make it on time.

"Well, I can't dawdle," I said out loud, mostly to myself, as I turned toward the road, deciding to walk. But just as I started taking a few steps, a thought flashed through my mind.

'She didn't tell me where the restaurant is.'

I sighed, pulling my phone back out of my pocket and quickly typing a message to Liz, asking for the location of this mysterious restaurant. It wasn't unusual for her to forget important details in the heat of her excitement. We all had our quirks when it came to handling the little oversights of daily life, but what mattered was that she was happy—and I wanted to be part of the celebration. Plus, they still owed me breakfast.

As soon as I sent the message, I resumed my walk through the quiet streets of Oxford. The cool autumn air and the soft scent of earth and dry leaves surrounded me as the sunlight began to stretch across the city. Each step, accompanied by the crunch of leaves beneath my feet, filled me with a sense of lightness, even as the urgency to not be late propelled me forward.

A few minutes later, my phone buzzed with a response.

"Ah! The restaurant is 'Le Jardin D'Or,' on the main street near the central square. You can't miss it, it's pretty famous around here. Hurry up before Carlos eats everything!" She added a laughing emoji followed by a winking face.

I chuckled quietly, imagining the scene—Carlos, fork already in hand, ready to devour everything before I even arrived. His appetite always took priority over any conversation, and I could already picture him poring over the menu, fantasizing about conquering every dish in sight.

"Of course I'll hurry!" I replied quickly, picking up my pace toward the restaurant. Liz's energetic tone always managed to lift my spirits. "And don't even think Carlos can finish everything without me!"

...

A few minutes later, seated in a taxi, the restaurant finally came into view. Traffic was light, as expected for an autumn morning, but Carlos's culinary urgency had persuaded me to opt for the faster route.

The taxi pulled up in front of Le Jardin D'Or, and the first thing that caught my eye was the restaurant's elegant façade. The name, written in gleaming golden letters, shimmered softly in the morning sunlight, complemented by delicate flowers adorning the windows. The place was even more charming than I had imagined. A smile crept onto my face as I quickly paid the driver and stepped out of the car.

Inside, the atmosphere was simultaneously warm, rustic, and sophisticated. Polished wooden tables were illuminated by soft lighting that gave the space a cozy glow, while the decor—an artful mix of rustic charm and modern elegance—made it feel like the perfect spot to celebrate a friend's success. The serene mood was infused with a subtle excitement on everyone's faces as they sat at the table, already deep into conversations.

The waiter greeted me warmly and guided me to a table at the back, where everyone was already gathered.

To the right sat Elizabeth—Liz—with her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, teasing Midori relentlessly. Midori, on the other hand, was trying to focus on her food but couldn't hide her embarrassment as Liz flashed an old photo of her at 15. In the picture, Midori had dyed her hair pink to look like Sakura Haruno from Naruto, her favorite character at the time.

At the far end was Nicole, uncharacteristically quiet but smiling faintly as she observed the chaos around her, as if she was enjoying the scene in her own calm way.

On the left sat the gluttons' team. At one end was Benjamin, whose towering rugby-player physique made him look like someone who'd naturally claim the biggest portion of any dish. In the middle was Carlos, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement at the sight of the various delicacies being served on the waiters' trays. Beside him sat Luca, running a hand through his short black hair, always aware of what was happening around him, though his look suggested he wouldn't waste any time with the food either.

As expected, Carlos had an empty plate in front of him and an expression of pure satisfaction on his face.

"Ah, Dalton! You finally made it! We were about to start without you!" Carlos exclaimed, looking at me with that ironic but warm smile of his.

"I knew you wouldn't start without me, but don't worry—I've brought my appetite, too," I replied with a grin, settling into my seat.

"You'd better hurry, there's not much food left," Elizabeth teased, laughing as Carlos waved the waiter over to order his first dish.

The atmosphere was light, and I couldn't help but smile. Being here, surrounded by my friends and the cozy autumn setting, was exactly where I was meant to be. The city seemed to breathe along with us—calm yet filled with a kind of warm energy, as though the season itself was sharing its essence with us.

As they ate, laughed, and talked, Luca, noticing Nicole's unusually solemn expression, tilted his head and asked, "What's going on? Normally, you'd be the first to order right after Carlos and the first to raise a glass for a toast."

Nicole looked out the window, where pedestrians hurried by, and replied without much emotion, "Nothing's wrong. I just woke up in a bad mood." She absentmindedly played with her short blonde hair, her green eyes still fixed on the people outside, as if searching for something beyond the conversation around her.

"Liar—I declare you guilty of trying to fool us!" I said with a playful smile, watching her closely. Cutting a piece of the most succulent meat from the tray, I dramatically dipped it into the sauce and pointed the fork toward Nicole. "What's going on with you? Here comes the airplane!"

The quiet giggles of a few others at the table quickly turned into louder laughter, mingling with curious glances from nearby diners. Soon enough, the entire table was laughing. Nicole, visibly flustered, had no choice but to drop her act of indifference.

"Okay, okay, stop it—this is embarrassing," she said, her face tinged with embarrassment as she eyed the piece of meat, still feigning resistance. Yet, she couldn't help herself. Taking the piece and popping it into her mouth, she gave in, unable to hide a faint smile.

'Gotcha,' I thought to myself, satisfied to have coaxed even a fleeting smile from Nicole.

After chewing the piece of meat, she finally sighed. It was clear something was bothering her, though she didn't seem ready to fully open up just yet.

"Well, one of my investments just boomed," she confessed, her voice slightly shaky. Her eyes lingered on her glass of wine, as though searching for solace in its depths. Nicole, always proud of her pursuit of a business degree, had a reputation for working tirelessly to carve out her place in the fiercely competitive field.

"Ah, it wasn't anything major," Benjamin chimed in, his tone casual and unbothered. "If I remember correctly, the risk was huge, and you didn't invest much."

"And what do you know about it? If I recall, physical education majors aren't exactly experts on business matters," Nicole shot back, her usual confidence flaring up. Benjamin, a scholarship rugby player and well-known figure in the Physical Education department, was certainly no financial guru.

"And there's the Nicole we all know and love!" Elizabeth cut in quickly, attempting to dissolve the brewing tension before it disrupted the restaurant's calm. She let out a nervous laugh, trying to smooth things over. Everyone at the table knew that Nicole and Benjamin's sharp banter was just their dynamic—a lighthearted way to show concern for each other, albeit in the most unconventional way.

"Ah, I see the chemistry between you two is as strong as ever," I teased, flashing a knowing grin at both of them.

"Dalton, you devil," Midori, who had been silent up to this point, quipped, shooting a mock scolding look at me. Everyone knew Benjamin and Nicole liked each other, even if neither would dare admit it.

"And that's why you're Dalton Xavier and not John Dalton," Benjamin retorted with a smug grin, referencing the scientist with an air of playful superiority.

"For once, you've said something smart," Nicole replied, tucking a strand of her short blonde hair behind her ear with a subtle flick.

"Well, maybe you could take a page from Luca," Benjamin shot back, his grin widening. "He just became an assistant to the head of the Chemistry department, so perhaps he could teach you a thing or two about actual chemistry." His tone carried the triumphant weight of a perfectly delivered jab.

"Touché. Alright, you got me this time," I conceded with a laugh, grabbing my fork and knife. "Let's get back to enjoying the fruits of Midori's success." I prepared to dig into the juicy piece of meat on my plate.

But instead of savoring a delicious bite, the only thing I heard was an unexpected sound: the harsh scrape of my knife and fork against an empty plate.