The aroma hit Elara first, a warm, yeasty hug that chased away the chill of the morning. It pulled her from sleep, a siren’s call leading her down the creaky stairs and into the heart of the bakery. "Almost ready, little sparrow," a voice rumbled, followed by a chuckle that shook the flour dusting from the rafters.
Old Man Tiberius, his hands gnarled like the roots of an ancient oak, was already at work. His bakery, "Tiberius' Treats," was a legend in the small village of Oakhaven. Not for its fancy decorations or trendy pastries, but for the soul infused into every single loaf. He baked with stories,...