There Is Magic In That Type Of Act

It was close to midnight when Demenik approached the back door of the baker's house and knocked. After a few minutes, the door opened and the baker smiled. "Demenik, you've returned. Come in, come in."

"Thank you, sir."

Once he was inside, the baker grabbed him by the shoulders. "Let's have a good look at you." He turned Demenik around. "You look strong and healthy, and your clothes are a vast improvement from the day I first set eyes on you, aren't they?"

Demenik grinned. "Yes, sir. Thank you."

"Are you hungry?" The baker glanced at the empty stove. "It's been months since you were here last. I can make something if you're hungry."

"Thank you but I am fine."

"Let me get you a pastry at least. Sit down. I will be right back."

Demenik sat at the table and the baker returned with two sweet treats. He set them on plates and placed them on the table. Then he sat down across from Demenik. "When you stopped showing up I was afraid some harm had come to you. Then my boy—" He paused and tears welled up in his eyes. "Well, after the trouble with the dead Keeper and Alexander's testimony, he no longer felt safe and struck out on his own. It's been months since I've heard anything. I don't even know where he went."

Demenik nodded. He knew where Alexander was, but remained silent.

"Look at you." The baker reached out to grip his shoulder. "It looks like you put the silver to good use. I knew right away that you were a clever lad. I am so very proud of you, Demenik."

"I am most grateful to you, sir."

"Please call me Noah."

"That doesn't seem proper."

"Nonsense. Perhaps it wasn't right for a filthy street boy to do so, but that boy no longer exists. You have become a fine young gentleman and I would be honoured if we addressed each other by name."

"Thank you, Noah."

The baker nodded. "So what can I do for you, lad?" He frowned and then leaned forward. "Did I speak too soon? Are you once more down on your luck and need my help?"

"No."

"Oh good." He smiled but his shoulders slumped.

"I came to thank you for all of your help."

"No thanks are needed."

"It is. Fortune smiled on me when you found me in that alley. I have used the help you provided and turned the silver into gold."

"Truly?"

Demenik nodded.

"Good for you."

Demenik withdrew a small sack and lay it on the table. "I would like to repay you, with a bit extra for good measure."

The baker sat back and raised his hands. "Absolutely not."

"But—"

"No." He shook his head and the tone in his voice became harsh. "I did not help you for money."

"I understand that but—"

"Listen to me very carefully." His voice softened and he lay one hand on top of Demenik's. "You don't understand."

"I did not mean to offend you."

"You haven't, but the point of what I did was to give with no expectations of getting back. Most will never understand this, but there is magic in that type of act, Demenik. Powerful magic. For you to pay me anything would cancel the effects, both to myself and, over time, to you."

"Interesting."

"It is a secret I learned a long time ago." He raised his hands to indicate the house. "I was a poor boy on the streets as well until someone did for me what I now do for others. It does not always work, but every once in a while"—he pointed at Demenik—"it does."

Demenik considered the baker's words. "I am not like you, Noah. I cannot help others selflessly."

"Of course you can."

Demenik shook his head. "I will not."

The baker's smile softened and after a moment, he shrugged. "Your fate is your own, Demenik. I cannot change that, nor would I want to. I am simply pleased that you are better off because of our time together."

Demenik retrieved the money from the table and put it in his pocket. "I am definitely in a better place, Noah."

"Good." Both men stood and embraced.

"I wish all the best for you, Demenik."

"I wish the same for you, Noah."