The golden light of the sunrise shone through the gaps in the wood. A clear blue sky appeared behind the wooden braces, and dust glittered in the sunlight like glinting glass. He blinked a few times to get used to the light. It felt to him as if a truck had hit him, and he had woken up in another universe.

Slowly but steadily, he arose and sat upon the makeshift bed that he lay upon. He was in a small hut made of wood. It was a cheap and dirty house, but it was equipped with everything one needed to survive. From his vantage point, he could see the whole house. The floor of the house was normal earth, and occasionally some stones were embedded in the floor in the places where people usually stayed or walked. To his left was the wooden entrance door. Directly in front of him, on the other side of the room, were two benches and a food table covered with a slightly dirty but white cloth. To the right, various tool utensils were spread out, and wooden boards hung on the walls, holding jugs as well as other pottery. On the right side of the house, encircled by stones, was an open fire. A steel pot stood on the embers, boiling away. On his side were the beds and a second door, which he did not know where it led. A rather sweet but lovely zesty taste hung in the air, and it was as if even just the odor of the food was replenishing his vigor. The atmosphere made him feel at ease, even though he had just woken up. But it only took a moment for him to realize that this was not a place to be excited. He didn't yet know how he had woken up or why he was in this house. The last thing he remembered was the forest, shining lights, and distant images.

As he heard the kettle and a man shouting in the background, he stood up and approached the pot. Steam was rising from it, and inside he saw a lovely arrangement - a soup with one onion, three carrots, two cloves of garlic, and some coriander, all boiling vigorously in stock. He leaned forward, his head directly over the pot, and lifted his head to take in as much of the smell as possible. At that moment, the door behind him opened.

“Guillalme! Look who's up and about!”, called a woman. “And you, young sir, don't go spoilin' your appetite before supper. Shoo now!” The Antithetical was perplexed and he went back 2, 3 steps. The woman had a round, cheerful face and a smile that was warm and welcoming. Her hair was curly and tied back in a bun. She had sparkling brown eyes that were mischievous but kind. She had a curvaceous figure, with rosy cheeks that seemed to glow with health and vitality. “Ah, yes, of course,” he said. “I didn't mean to cause any trouble, thank you for your kindness. I just couldn't…” He was not able to finish his sentence, because the door was slammed open.

“Ye be awake!” shouted the man as he stepped into the house. “By the Saints, I thought we were givin' ye a final restin' in the Lostlodge fer sure. What happened in them woods? Every soul 'round these parts knows ye shouldn't be touchin' what's there. Ye near 'bout scared the life from us with them ear-piercin' screams, even the cattle were roused! Finola, is that grub ready yet? Just look at the poor fella, he's near 'bout skin and bones, ain't had a good meal in a coon's age.” The man on the other hand, Guillalme it seemed, was tall and lanky. He had broad shoulders and rough hands that spoke of years of arduous work. He had a rugged, weathered face, tanned by the sun. He wore a mop of curly, silvery hair that fell just above his shoulders. His eyes were deep blue and always seemed to be crinkled with a smile. Guillalme approached the Antithetical and while he shook his hand he said, “Praise the heavens, ye've awoken! I trust ye don't mind my wife, Finola, changin' yer clothes whilst ye were slumberin'? Come now, join us at the table, let's break our fast and ye can tell us yer tale. What brought ye to these parts, wanderer? Who might ye be?”

“As I was starting to say,” said the Antithetical, “I didn't mean to cause any trouble, and thank you for your kindness and that heartwarming invitation. I think you've already given me much more than I can pay you back for, in fact, I can't pay you back at all.” His stomach began to grumble, as if it wanted to contradict him. His gaze flickered back and forth between Guillalme and Finola. Finola was filling the third bowl with pottage, and Guillalme was still holding his hand. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for what they had done, but he was careful and on guard. He decided to accept the offer, maybe his hosts were genuinely good people from top to bottom, or maybe they were hiding something behind their friendly façade. Since the Day of his Awakening, he had only felt pain, torture, and distrust. After his escape, it felt like he had stepped into a completely new world. Descartes and Silas were both enigmatic figures, but both spoke in riddles, knowing much more but sharing much less. Then there was Laverna, the most enigmatic of the three. He had no choice but to accept what she had told him. It was like having a newborn baby and telling it that the world it was placed in was cruel and terrible. That he had nowhere to go but in one direction, because he was the chosen one. It was like stepping out of the nuclear bunker you were born in, only to see that the world out there was still alive. You had to see it with your own eyes, and that was what he had chosen to do. To see what these people were like, if they were trustworthy, or if Laverna was the trustworthy one, but carefully. “All right,” he said at last. “I'll stay and eat with you. Accepting this offer and telling you something is the least I can do.”

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The food was steaming, and his mouth was watering. The food looked a little bit different than before; it now had a distinctive orange color. The smell of carrots, onions, leeks, and poultry hung in the air. The soup was seasoned with herbs such as thyme, rosemary, and bay leaves. It was thickened with starch. It seemed like an eternity before Guillalme and Finola finally sat down. As soon as they sat, he wanted to start eating, but Finola said in a sharp voice, “Hold on there, dearie, we can't tuck in just yet. We must say grace first, it's only right. I know ye must be famished, but these things must be done proper like. Surely ye know that these things must be done, don't ye now? “A skeptical look spread across the faces of the two.

“No of course, I know about that!” he said with as much confidence as he could muster. “Pardon me,” he added, “my stomach got the better of me. “ The suspicious look in Finola’s face disappeared but not yet in Guillalme’s face. Still, it seemed like both were satisfied with his excuse. Finola grabbed her husband’s hand and reached out to grab The Antithetical’s hand as well. She grabbed it firmly, looked at Guillalme, and nodded. Both closed their eyes. She started praying.

> "Queen Danielle, in grace so divine,

> Your blessing we seek, and for guidance we pire.

> With thankful hearts we gather at this board,

> For the unending gift of life, you made the accord.

> We shun the lost, and these that bath in despair,

> That your wrath may repel, and so that you care,

> For us in all four wisdom, and for you holy grace,

> That we may always bask in your warmth and you to transcend space."

They released their hands, picked up their spoons, and began eating. Unfortunately, The Antithetical was unable to fully concentrate on the food as the grace Finola had spoken was quite lengthy and while eating, he thought carefully about it. It was obvious that he had learned several things through the prayer. Queen Danielle was the spiritual leader of the country, but she was also the highest authority. It was also clear that these people were grateful to their queen, but most importantly, they knew about the curse plaguing the land. No, in their eyes, it was not a curse, but rather a gift that they received. As he considered the other meanings of the prayer and the feeling in his mind that told him there was something familiar about it, he became lost in thought and time. When he snapped back to reality, he realized that his bowl was empty for a long time and that he had been scratching the bottom of it for a while. He looked to his right and left and saw that Guillalme and Finola were missing. Through the gaps in the roof, he could tell that it was late midday and he had sat there for at least three or four hours. Then, the door opened and Guillalme entered the house. “Ah, you're finished. Good,” he said. “Finola and I are both pleased that we could help and nourish you today. We understand that you don't trust us much, and that's understandable. To be truthful, I kept a close eye on you too. So, we have been thinking, there's a church service tomorrow morning, and after it, the pastor has time for anyone who wants to speak. We think it's best for you, considering what you touched that is forbidden, to confess. The church will help you, by Queen Danielle's grace.”

“Ah, I see,” The Antithetical responded in a controlled tone, trying to hide his true thoughts. “I suppose attending the church service tomorrow and hearing what the pastor has to say wouldn't hurt. I am grateful for your hospitality and your concern for my well-being.” Inwardly, he was still trying to make sense of everything that had happened since he stumbled upon Glisford. While the couple seemed sincere in their hospitality, he couldn't help but wonder about their strict religious views, particularly regarding the “curse” they referred to. He remembered their prayer, with its references to Queen Danielle and her grace, and wondered what role she played in this world. He thought that the church service and confession might offer some answers to his questions, but at the same time, he remained cautious and guarded.