The Reckoning

Chapter 3

The hut was small. The atmosphere inside was warm, a strong smell, reminiscent of sandalwood was present. Not much furnishing was set. A small table with a couple of chairs, a sleeping mat, and boxes were visible. Everything was made with similar materials as the hut.

Though the space felt empty, it was comfortable. The strange sense of calmness he felt at the moment felt weird to him. Suddenly, it dawned on him the amount of exhaustion he felt. He sat on the sleeping mat and realized it'd probably been the first time in his life he felt at utter peace.

Unconsciously, he dropped into the mat, face looking upwards. His eyes closed themselves and his mind drifted away. He enjoyed the silence around; nothing flared his nerves or triggered his fear. It probably was stupid to fall asleep in such a place, his defenses completely down, but at that moment, Izahr didn't care. He needed to rest; his body demanded it.

A delicious smell woke him up. He felt disoriented, and it took him a second to remember where he was. Unlike the last time, he didn't have any fuzzy dreams.

He got up to his feet and exited the small structure. Walking outside, the sunlight momentarily blinded him, it was stronger than before. The heat kissed his skin, and he felt his cheeks slightly blush from the warm air. The humidity was strong, making his caramel skin feel sticky. He noticed the cuts and marks in his arms had disappeared. The pain has subdued, but there was still a slight soreness that would dissipate eventually.

He spotted a small campfire, the lack of smoke showed it had been burning for a while now. A pot was placed on top of a medium iron grid, which was supported between some stones. The smell was good.

"Good thing you are awake" A voice sounded from behind. Instinctively, he turned his head around and spotted a woman approaching him. She wore a beautiful white gown. It seemed like it was sown with the finest of silks. It was simple, but it fit her like a glove.

The woman was stunning. Her beauty made Izahr felt warm inside. She had long hair, black like the nights, her eyes colored as the richest honey and her skin resembled the purest of pearls, flawless like porcelain. Never before, had he seen someone who resembled a similar level of perfection. Her smile was welcoming, something in it made the boy feel secure. Maybe it was the exhaustion or all the blows he had taken to the head that day, but he didn't feel the need to keep his guard up.

"Please, sit with me." She gestured with a hand, pointing at a couple of wooden mats laid beside the burning campfire. "It seems like you haven't been properly fed for a while"

"Okay?" Izahr answered, it sounded more like a question. The situation was slightly bizarre. He wasn't used to people being nice to him or offering things in such a manner. He plopped down, sitting with his legs crossed. The woman passed him a bowl, filled with what looked like a stew. It smelled like a mix of many spices, most unbeknownst to him. He couldn't describe what it looked like or what was in it, but he recognized perfectly cut vegetables and perhaps some sort of fish.

"This used to be my secret recipe, that everyone loved," She said, a smile plastered in her mouth. "Foreigners crossed the seas just to taste my fish stew. Many demanded to know my secret, but I never shared" She answered with a teasing wink.

"But..." Izahr trailed "There is no one around" He responded, quickly realizing how rude his answer probably came across. "Sorry, I just... I meant..." He tried to apologize, but was cut off by the woman's amused laugh.

"I'm not offended, you are right. No one is here, and they haven't come in years" the mysterious woman admitted, a nostalgic look covered her face. "It's a punishment I earned because of my greed"