Evan rose from the mat and gathered the guides, stacking them neatly before setting them aside as he had found them. He stretched once more, a simple motion this time, arms lifting and lowering as his body adjusted after the extended session.
The room remained quiet, others still engaged in their own practice, their presence unchanged from when he had entered. He stepped toward the door and paused briefly, taking one last breath in the calm down before moving out into the corridor.
The sounds of the training hall returned as he walked back through the passage, the controlled activity of the earlier sections carrying through the building.
His stomach tightened slightly as he moved, the hunger becoming more noticeable now that his focus had shifted away from the exercises. He glanced at the time once more, confirming what he had already felt. Around eleven.
Enough time to eat before continuing the day. Evan adjusted his path toward the exit, his thoughts already moving ahead to the arena district and the stalls that would be open by now.
The courtyard greeted him with brighter light than before, the space now filled with more movement as the day progressed. Groups had grown larger, drills more active, voices carrying a little farther across the open ground.
Evan moved along the edge without slowing, his attention passing briefly over the patterns of drills before shifting back to his own path.
He stepped out into the street and adjusted his direction toward the arena district, the route familiar now. The town had changed from its early quiet into a fuller flow, people moving with purpose between tasks, stalls opening wider, voices blending into a constant background.
The hunger in his stomach pressed more clearly with each step, guiding him forward as much as the path itself.
As he neared the arena district, the atmosphere shifted again. The large displays mounted along the outer ring had come to life, showing an ongoing match to the gathering crowd. People stood in small clusters, some watching with focused attention, others passing by with only a glance. The sounds carried farther now, reactions rising and falling with the flow of the fight, adding a layer of energy to the space that had not been present in the early morning.
Evan slowed slightly as he entered the outer ring, his gaze lifting toward the screen for a brief moment. Movement flickered across it, figures exchanging strikes with speed and control that drew attention even from a distance. He did not stop yet. The pull of hunger remained stronger for now. His focus shifted back to the stalls lining the perimeter, scanning for something familiar as he moved through the growing crowd.
Rovan's stall came into view along the outer row, the wide iron pan already in motion as he worked through a growing line of customers. The heat rising from it carried the same layered scent Evan remembered, richer now with the addition of new ingredients being prepared alongside the earlier dishes.
Trays had been set out along the side, holding prepared portions ready to be served quickly, while Rovan moved between them and the pan with practiced efficiency.
Evan stepped closer, waiting just off to the side until the immediate rush eased enough for him to approach.
His eyes moved briefly over the options laid out, noting the variety now available compared to the morning. Grains, meats, and vegetables arranged in combinations that offered both familiarity and something new.
He shifted his weight slightly, his attention returning to the stall as he prepared to order, the hunger that had built through the morning workout now fully present.
Rovan glanced up between orders and caught sight of him. Recognition came quickly, followed by a brief lift of his chin. "Back again," he said, already reaching for a bowl.
Evan nodded. "Yeah. I would like something filling."
Rovan moved with quick, practiced motions, scooping a portion of grain into the bowl before adding slices of seared meat, their edges crisped and slightly caramelized. He layered in roasted vegetables, darker from the heat, then finished with a spoonful of thick, savory sauce that coated the top in a light glaze. A small side of spiced lentil mash was added beside it, its texture smooth with a hint of oil shining on the surface. He slid the bowl forward across the counter.
Evan authorized the payment and took it. He stepped aside, moving toward a less crowded section near the outer edge of the ring, his gaze lifting briefly toward the arena screen again as the sounds of the ongoing match carried through the space.
Evan took a few steps away from Rovan's stall, then slowed again as the nearby options drew his attention.
A smaller stand to his right displayed skewers labeled "Spiced Ember Cuts", thin strips of meat threaded and grilled over open coals, their surface glistening with oil and crushed spices. He picked a few of them up, the heat still rising from it, and added it to what he carried.
A few steps further, another stall offered small folded wraps marked "Leafroll Bites", filled with finely chopped vegetables and a light, tangy paste. He took a few of those as well. The food began to crowd his hands, forcing him to pause.
The stall owner nearest him noticed and slid a flat wooden tray across the counter without a word. Evan accepted it with a brief nod, arranging the bowls and skewers onto it before moving toward a set of benches positioned along the outer ring.
He set the tray down on a small table facing the arena screen and added one more item before sitting, a tall cup labeled "Chilled Citrus Brew." The liquid inside carried a pale golden color with thin slices of fruit floating near the surface.
He took a seat, adjusted the tray in front of him, and let his attention shift between the food and the match unfolding above, the habit faintly familiar, like the way he used to eat back on Earth with videos playing on a screen.
On the screen, the fight had already reached a steady exchange. Two figures stood facing each other across a marked arena floor. One carried a slightly broader stance, his grip firm, movements grounded.
The display identified him as Brian. The other stood lighter on his feet, blade angled with a relaxed precision that suggested control rather than readiness. James.
They closed the distance in a measured step, steel meeting steel in a clean, controlled clash that carried through the speakers with a sharp, ringing sound.
Evan picked up one of the skewers and took a bite, his eyes fixed on the screen as the exchange continued. The meat held a crisp outer layer that gave way to a tender interior, the spices sharp at first before settling into a deeper, smoky flavor.
Above, Brian pressed forward with a series of direct strikes, each one carrying weight and intent. James responded with small adjustments, turning his body just enough to redirect the blade rather than meeting it head-on. The movement felt precise, each action placed with purpose, drawing Evan's full attention as he watched and ate in equal measure.
Evan set the skewer down and picked up the bowl from Rovan's stall, taking a spoonful as his eyes remained on the screen.
The grain carried a rich, savory depth, the sauce binding it together with a warmth that lingered. A piece of seared meat followed, its edges still slightly crisp, releasing a deeper flavor as he chewed.
Above, Brian shifted his approach, his stance tightening as he drove a heavier strike toward James's center. The force behind it showed in the way his body committed fully to the motion.
James responded with a step that came just before the strike landed, his body turning along a narrow angle that carried him out of the line of force. His blade moved in the same instant, not to block but to guide, redirecting Brian's swing just enough to pass.
The movement flowed into a counter, a quick extension toward an opening that had not been there a moment before but before James could capitalize on it, Brian was on him again. Evan paused mid-bite, watching the timing of it, the way each action created the next without hesitation.
Evan reached for the leafroll and took a bite, the crisp outer layer giving way to a cool, tangy filling that cut through the richness of the earlier dish. The contrast sharpened his senses, making the flavors stand out more clearly.
On the screen, Brian adjusted again, his movements tightening into shorter, more controlled strikes. His blade came forward in quick succession, each swing placed to limit James's space and James answered with movement instead of force.