Amara awoke the next morning to delightful smells of breakfast wafting into her room. For one fleeting instant—within the haze of just-woken-up sleepiness—she was almost able to believe that she'd never left home. In that single, precious moment, everything that'd happened since the soldiers appeared at Shiloh had all just been a strange dream. After all, she’d woken up in her warm bed to the smells of her mother's cooking more times than she could ever possibly count.
The recollection of enjoyable mornings with her mother caused an intense pang of loneliness within Amara, an empty void she knew wouldn't be filled. She wanted nothing more than to rush downstairs and jump into her mother’s arms, share a meal with her like they'd always done. But it was all so far away, now.
Mostly to escape from those feelings, Amara forced herself out of bed. She stopped for a moment to straighten out her clothing and stretch out the remaining lethargy in her limbs before stepping out into the hallway. Nothing about it had noticeably changed since last night, but when she looked towards the kitchen she spotted Mattias and Sunjata busily hauling trays full of food to and fro. Mattias soon noticed her and halted in place, holding a tray between his hands which contained a sizable pile of what looked to be slices of bread.
“Good morning!” he called out pleasantly. “I left a change of clothing and other things by your door.”
Amara looked down and saw that there was, indeed, a small basket full of clothing sitting against the wall beside the door.
“The guest bathroom is the room closest to the stairwell,” he continued. “Breakfast will be ready soon.”
She turned about to shoot a look down the hallway, glancing at Evander’s closed door before returning her gaze to Mattias.
“Thanks?” she offered. Something about seeing him hard at work preparing a meal had left her feeling utterly lost for words.
He gave her a perfunctory nod before returning to his task. Sunjata also nodded to her in silent greeting when they made eye contact moments later.
When did my life take such a turn for the surreal? she asked herself.
She knelt down to inspect the contents of the basket. It contained a few sets of clothing—simple blouses and shorts, all of which looked to be a perfect fit for her. There was also a hairbrush in the basket, along with a towel and some mild-smelling soap for washing. For a moment she wondered at how they’d acquired properly fitting clothing for her before remembering the obvious.
Did I ever change in front of him? she wondered, suppressing a shudder. It was something she definitely might’ve done at some point over the past decade, but couldn’t recall any specific instances. The rapidness of events hadn’t allowed her to fully absorb the enormous consequences of his deception just yet, but in that moment the revelation that Mattias had been a person all along finally began to feel like an awful betrayal.
Basket in hand, Amara hurried down the hallway towards the bathroom, urged on by a sudden desire to leave Mattias’s view. The room itself was just as small as all the others she’d seen in the guest wing so far, and it contained the normal things that could reasonably be found in any bathroom. A combination shower and tub sat in the far corner, and when she pulled on the handle to test it lukewarm water instantly began to spray from the spigot. She made a mental note to ask after how they’d brought running water to Raven’s Roost before preparing herself to hop in the shower.
The water quickly warmed up, and it felt wonderfully revitalizing to finally be completely clean. Once she was out of the shower she dried herself off and changed into fresh clothing before spending some time unknoting her hair. After placing all her things back into the basket she left the bathroom, and only managed to take a few steps in the direction of her room before Evander’s door abruptly cracked open.
His head peeked out into the hallway, and his eyes went wide with recognition once their gazes met. An impatient hand emerged from the crack beneath the eyes, beckoning her into his room. A frown crossed her face, but she complied, and he hurriedly shut the door behind her once she’d stepped inside.
“It’s him!” Evander hissed urgently at close range. “That black haired man! That’s Shaitan!”
“I know,” she said, still frowning, and used her free hand to push him back a step.
“You know?!”
“He admitted it. Who do you think saved your life?”
“He almost killed me!”
“No, I talked it over with him, Evan. Among a ton of other things. I don’t think it was him, but...how long have you been awake?”
“A couple hours. Well I think it's been a few hours, it's impossible to tell in this godforsaken place. Anyway, he was sitting next to me when I woke up. Mara, he transformed right before my eyes! There was this blinding light—”
“I saw him do that too,” she said. “Why didn’t you come and wake me up?”
“Are you crazy?! You really think I’m gonna leave this room when fucking Shaitan is walking around out there?! Besides, I had no idea where you even were.”
A small smile crossed her face. “...So you’ve just been hiding in here?”
“It’s not funny, Mara, this is deadly serious. Where the hell are we, anyway?”
Amara carefully set her basket down, then walked over to the chair beside Evander’s bed and took a seat.
“It’s a long story, and you need to hear all of it. What do you remember?”
“Getting ripped to bloody shreds by the Sullied One.”
“Again, I doubt it was him. But we’ll get to that. I’m glad you seem to be feeling fine now.”
“My leg and arm are pretty stiff, and I have some ugly scars now, but yeah. Thanks.”
“What else?”
He went quiet for a moment, obviously thinking.
“After that, weird lights and smells. I felt something soft and warm.”
An irritated frown crossed Amara’s face as he continued. “Then I was being lifted up somehow. Next thing I knew I woke up in that bed and there was a raven perched on the chair you’re currently in.”
“He definitely saved your life,” she said. “After the attack, we walked through some kind of magic portal and wound up in a desert.”
Evander’s eyes went wide as she began to explain what had happened. She did her best to tell him everything, and he was mostly quiet during the telling, only interjecting on occasion to ask simple questions. Providing an accurate retelling of the conversation she’d had last night with Mattias was difficult because of the sheer amount of things they’d talked about, but by the end of the story Evander seemed to have gotten the gist of it.
“Do you trust him?” he finally asked.
“No, not really.”
“Good. Because he was intentionally trying to trick you.”
“Obviously.”
“And he probably still is.”
“I know.”
“Even if you want to trust him, you shouldn’t.”
“I know.”
“Okay. Just making sure we’re on the same page.”
“Evan, right now I’m just grateful that you’re alive. And that we’re relatively safe for the moment.”
“Yeah,” he said, and there was a new, odd tone in his voice. “You did just as much to save me as he did.”
“Not really. I just carried you a little.”
His gaze suddenly dropped to the floor by her feet.
“Thanks,” he mumbled. “Really appreciate it.”
An abrupt, awkward silence fell between them. Amara was suddenly very aware of Evander’s feelings for her, and what helping him might’ve meant in that context.
Mercifully, a knock sounded at the door a few moments later. Mattias opened it about halfway, poking his head inside.
“It's getting cold,” he said, raising an eyebrow.
“We’re coming,” Amara replied impatiently. “Just give us a minute.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
He responded with a light shrug before shutting the door. The silence stretched on for a little while longer before Evander finally broke it.
“Did you just take a shower?”
“Yep. There’s a bathroom down at the end of the hall.”
“I’ll take one too, then. Shai—um. Mattias. Gave me one of those baskets, too.”
“Alright.”
He stood up, making brief eye contact with her before his gaze darted away once again.
“I’ll see you then,” he said awkwardly before hurrying towards the door.
Amara cast a displeased frown at his back as he hustled out into the hallway. Once he was gone she scanned the room, and soon spotted a second basket sitting on the floor in the far corner beside the dresser. He’d clearly just forgotten to take it with him.
Well at least this is normal, she thought ruefully.
Sighing, she stood back up and followed Evander out of the room. He’d already disappeared into the bathroom by the time she returned to the hallway. She made her way towards the kitchen, enjoying the hearty smells emanating from it as she walked. There were sweet things mixed in with the richness of a meat that might’ve been roasted ham or bacon, perhaps both. Her mouth watered at the idea of eating freshly cooked meat for the first time in months, and her stomach let out a fearsome growl, which reminded her that she hadn’t eaten anything at all in at least a full day.
Mattias and Sunjata were seated beside one another at the dining table when she entered the kitchen, eating various items of food off of silver dinner plates. Arrayed across the table before them were several trays and plates filled to the brim with fruits, nuts, and a wide variety of meats and breads, many of which Amara hadn't seen before. She was taken aback for a moment at just how much food was present—not once had she ever seen so much on her table at home.
“Sit, please,” Mattias told her eagerly through a mouth full of food, then pointed his fork towards a plate filled with slices of a brownish bread. “Try that dish first. It’s amazing, trust me.”
“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” she said, walking over to take the seat across from him. “How did you get all this food?”
“Sunjata took care of that, of course. I could’ve acquired it myself I suppose, but even in my fastest form most of this would’ve gone stale by the time I returned from Lucyra.”
Sunjata took a moment to swallow a bite before speaking up.
“...My part of this was easy. Master Mattias was the one who did all the cooking.”
Amara nodded absently while surveying the food before her, lost in a sudden realization.
Sunjata knew who Sattami really was. He went along with the deception.
“Here—” Mattias said, shoveling a few slices of a delicious smelling bread onto her plate. He then dug a tiny spoon into a small bowl filled with a white powder, and sprinkled the powder atop the bread.
“What is that?” she asked warily.
“It’s only powdered sugar! This dish is called French Toast. It’s sliced bread soaked carefully in an egg broth and cooked with butter. Try it!”
Hesitating, she picked up a fork and knife and used them to cut off a small corner piece from the bread. The flavor was intense—sweet and savory with an eggy undertone, and unfamiliar spices she’d never tasted before but definitely enjoyed. Visually at least, the powdered sugar made it seem almost as if she were eating dessert rather than breakfast.
Mattias had a look of inordinate pride on his face as she dove into her plate for more.
“I knew you would like it. French toast has always been my favorite. The Cataclysm caused an incalculable amount of amazing recipes to be lost forever, but this is one I’ve managed to keep alive through the power of perseverance.”
“Your cooking has definitely improved since I first arrived,” Sunjata said, smirking.
Mattias gave him a dramatic roll of his eyes before turning back to Amara.
“I’ve never had any talent for cooking. Trust me when I say that these results are a product of many long years of miserable toil and barrel upon barrel of wasted ingredients.”
“What’s French mean?” Amara asked while eagerly transferring more pieces of toast to her plate.
“That’s an interesting question. It was a nation once, an extremely long time ago. Back when ideas like nationalism were free to proliferate across the human sphere. But the place, and the people, now exist as nothing more than faded memories in the heads of thirteen people.”
Amara gave him a brief frown to signal her lack of understanding before diving back into the toast. It was so delicious that she could hardly control herself.
“You’ll learn very quickly to be careful with your questions,” Sunjata said with mirth. “He’ll take any excuse to ramble on, especially about the ancient times.”
She paused before taking another bite, and her gaze shot between the two men. Something about the familiarity they displayed towards one another seemed very odd.
“Are you two, um…?”
Sunjata raised an eyebrow at her, and a merry grin soon exploded across Mattias’s face.
“Sun has always been deeply fond of me,” he said, chuckling.
“...As much as I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, Master Mattias, I would like to remind you that our friendship is based on mutual need. Not mutual affection.”
“Sunjata. My dear Sun. I’ve always—”
“He’s joking,” Sunjata told Amara hastily.
She looked between them again as they both resumed eating, unsure if their banter was genuinely spontaneous or calculated theater. After a few bites, Sunjata’s gaze lifted from his food back to Amara.
“Raven’s Roost has been my home for more than a decade. Master Mattias offered me safe haven here when my relationship with my father turned…sour. For lack of a better word.”
“He was going to kill him,” Mattias said in an offhand sort of way between mouthfuls.
Amara absorbed his statement in silence for a moment before turning to Sunjata.
“Who is your father?”
“Ndomadyiri. He rules—”
“Jeriba. I know that. I almost never paid any attention during temple, but even I know who the Seraphim are.”
“I really do appreciate you, Sun,” Mattias said. “It was so hard to get fresh food here before you arrived.”
A small scowl crossed Sunjata’s face, and he shot a glance loaded with irritation at Amara before his focus returned to his food.
Mattias forked a piece of bacon, but instead of bringing it to his mouth he held it aloft, studying it as though it were some odd, fascinating object.
“Cooking is a very interesting skill, don’t you think? It’s an ability no other creature has ever developed in spite of the obvious nutritional benefits heat draws out of food. Who knows what the world might look like now if our ancestors had developed in some other direction.”
“Do you see my mistake?” Sunjata told Amara dryly.
“It’s what truly sets us apart from the other animals,” Mattias continued. “Higher reasoning isn’t entirely unique to us, and neither is communication for the purposes of coordination. How our bodies adapted to the art of cooking is what has placed us near the peak of evolution's pyramid. You two couldn’t possibly know, but I’m old enough to remember a time when that peak belonged to us alone.”
Before Amara could ask after that, Evander finally stepped into the kitchen from the hallway. His hair was still a bit wet, and he’d changed into a plain green shirt and gray shorts. She was surprised at how good the outfit looked on him, despite how simple it was, and she found her gaze lingering on his exposed neck and collarbone for a few moments before their eyes met.
“Please, take a seat,” Mattias told him. “Breakfast isn’t completely cold just yet.”
Mistrust filled Evander’s expression as he looked between Mattias and the food on the table. He locked eyes with Amara once again, and after some visible hesitation walked over to sit at the table beside her, across from Sunjata.
“What were you just talking about?” Evander asked.
“Our communal fate,” Mattias said with an impish smile. He popped the bacon he’d been studying into his mouth, and chewed it slowly.
Amara frowned at him. “What did you mean by evolution?”
“Hm! It’s a very old theory that was widely subscribed to before the Cataclysm. I’m no expert, but from what I remember it relates to how life develops in accordance to environmental pressures over long periods of time. The theory originated from an age when people still cared to learn about the world around them.”
“Is evolution as old as French?” she asked.
“No. The state and the culture it represented were both older by a significant margin. The idea of it, anyway.”
“God created life,” Evander said. “It’s part of His design.”
“Oh, is it?”
Anger instantly entered into Evander’s expression, and Amara was suddenly very aware that he’d yet to touch any of the food.
“You’ve personally seen the face of God. How can you just ignore His truth?”
“Have I seen it? Hm, I don’t recall. Perhaps He had a forgettable face.”
Evander scoffed with disbelief. “...Is this all just a big joke to you?”
“The idea that a God played an active role in creating your stated beliefs is amusing to me, yes.”
“You’re a part of His hierarchy,” Evander said, incensed. “I saw you transform with my own eyes. Where exactly did your powers come from if not from Him?”
Mattias forked another piece of bacon and took a small bite.
“Maybe I evolved them?” he said through his food.
“You’re vile,” Evander spat out.
A hint of anger appeared in Mattias’s voice. “Your God certainly takes a great deal onto himself, doesn’t he? All that blind love and adoration. Perhaps we should go and ask Him why it is He grants powers to unworthy little boys and not to anyone who actually deserves it.”
“The only one taking on a great deal here is you! All that lying—it really must be so hard on you to have to go around constantly tricking people in order to get whatever the fuck it is you want.”
A loaded silence fell over the table. Mattias and Evander glared at one another, and for a moment it seemed as though their argument might escalate into violence. For his part, Sunjata looked very uncomfortable, and Amara looked on as he used his fork to aimlessly push around a piece of ham on his plate.
She couldn’t decide which side of their argument she fell on. She’d never really cared about or believed in any of the things the Seeker had preached during temple. The scriptures were boring at best, and irritating at worst. God and the Seraphim clearly had the power to help out suffering families like her own, and yet they rarely did. But on the other hand, something about the way Mattias had engaged Evander left her feeling very angry.
Even if he’s right about God, Mattias should be way above this, she decided. Why in the world would he bicker like a child with someone who is a tiny fraction of his own age?
“You should eat something, Evan,” she eventually said, breaching the silence. “It's really good.”
Evander finally broke eye contact with Mattias and turned his gaze to Amara. After a moment of studying her face, he turned his attention to the food before him and began to transfer some of it to his plate. He cut off a piece of the French toast, and after chewing it for a moment let out a small approving noise.
“You’re right,” he said sullenly.
Mattias said nothing, and soon turned to his own plate. A new silence fell over the table as everyone else did the same, one that was distinctly uncomfortable but far less hostile than the one which had preceded it.