Normally, Light worked alone, however, the opportunity had presented itself to see new places and [i]finally[/i] use his spells. In his home country, mages were often disowned, especially ones of the destruction magic like himself. People were always, 

[i]'Light, you blew that tavern up.'[/i]

[i]'Light, that library is on fire.'[/i]

No one appreciates destruction magic. There could be a battle or bandits, and they couldn't do a thing. What are they going to do, heal someone to death? 

So anyway, here Light was, sitting by a window in the Wrangled Drunkard. He was there first since he was always early. On time, to him, meant 15 minutes before arrival. Being late, was highly upsetting, to say the least. The bar was crowded, but that was okay. It was interesting. The people of Carthus were completely different. Their clothes, their accent, even their hair was odd. He kind of expected the table placement to have three spoons. 

Since Light's trip was being paid for, he got the most expensive thing on the menu he could find. It was some sort of... lamb. Whatever it was, it was delicious. After eating the swill that people on the boat dared to call food, this was a very welcome change. Flame outside the window caught his eye. He turned to look at the source, sweet drink still in hand. The crowd gave oo's and ah's. 

Light scoffed into his cup, "I could do that." 

Yet, he was mesmerized. The things that he'd witnessed today had been astounding. There was vender just selling cheeses. Every kind you could imagine. It was a miracle that someone could base their entire livelihood around cheese. Light swished his glass, recalled how much cheese he had purchased. Five blocks. On second thought, it suddenly made sense how people could sell cheese for a living. 

Light looked at his pocket watch. Why didn't others share his love of being early?