The Emerald Legend (Book 1)

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Morning Dew Drops

Amalia stirred again in the same unfamiliar white sheets, in the same unfamiliar room. The sun was peeking through the three circular windows above the bed as she sat up and yawned. She looked into the depth of the room and noticed there was a set of clothes lying on top of the small wooden table next to the door. She thought Osirian must have put them there while she was deep in slumber.

She tore the covers off of her and slid her feet off the bed and onto the floor. She pulled down the white silk-woven gown she had been given the day prior, as it had become oddly adjusted on her body throughout the night. She shuffled over the shaggy rug, feeling the individual tassels between her toes as she did.

On top of the table was a white fabric, much like the one she was wearing, except it had a golden design woven into the ends of the sleeves and the collar. Beneath the long-sleeved top there was a pair of pants that were also white, but they seemed to be much too big for her at first glance.

She slipped the pants under the silk of her night gown and noticed that the waist and the ends of the legs were sown in such a way that the fabric sat snugly against her skin. The pants looked puffy around the bottom and did not show Amalia's body shape at all. In some strange way, she kind of liked that.

Amalia took off the soft silk night gown and placed it onto the wooden table. She grabbed the white and golden tunic and put it on. It hung lower than she'd expected; the end of the fabric stopped just above her knees and fit surprisingly well against her waist.

Amalia pulled her hair out from the inside of the tunic and it cascaded down her back. She ran her hands down the length of the fabric, feeling the woven design and silk against her palms. It was truly soft, elegant, and beautiful.

She folded the night gown neatly and laid it atop the wooden table. One last time she ran her hands down the fabric of her new garments, then stepped towards the door.

She grabbed the cold steel handle firmly and pulled on it, gently exposing the lit hallway before her. Immediately, a wave of scents came rushing past her. The scent of fresh burning incense and bread were the strongest, then the scent of something sweet, and the scent of cooked onions hung in the air. It reminded her of Varus and Mezia—of her home.

She shook her head trying to rid herself of those thoughts and moved into the cool, tiled hallway. She closed the door behind her and walked down the hallway into the main room. What she saw there warmed her heart.

Seian was sitting next to Osirian and his tail was twirling and twisting with delight. Osirian was sitting next to a very content Seian, and was petting and scratching his neck. Amalia hung back for a moment and watched them getting along so well.

Osirian scratched under the leopards neck and down his back, making the big cat erupt in a powerful purr. As Seian did so, Osirian noticed Amalia leaning against the wall watching them. He smiled at the sight of her and slowly stood up and wiped his hands on a damp cloth.

"Good morning," Osirian said politely. One of her eyebrows perked up and she made her way into the dining room.

"How did you—" Amalia trailed off for a moment seeing Seian completely ignoring her presence and wanting more attention from Osirian. "How did you get him to trust you like that?"

"I would not be much of a King of Spirits if I could not win the hearts of simple creatures," Osirian said, then chuckled as he moved around the large animal into the dining room. "I've prepared the morning meal." He motioned towards the table and Amalia moved her gaze downwards.

"Oh," she said realizing how oblivious she was. The table was full of breads and bowls filled with an assortment of different dishes.

"You are quite the chef," she said turning back to him.

"When you cook for others, you tend to seek perfection," he said.

"Thank you," she said softly, appreciating his kind gesture. Osirian' amber eyes rested on her face for a moment, then back to the table.

"Fill your plate, for you have a work-filled day ahead of you." He walked over to the wooden table and sat on top of the vermillion-orange seat cushion. Amalia followed his lead and sat parallel to him atop her own cushion.

Osirian closed his eyes for a moment and looked as if he was centering himself. She followed his lead out of respect; she wanted to learn from her new teacher. She felt a strange warmth around her belly, and after a few more seconds she opened her eyes. Osirian stared straight at her and she felt the fluttering in her chest come once again. His expression went unchanged as he reached for a flat piece of bread that was stacked onto a wooden plate. He tore a piece off and with it he grabbed pieces of the rainbow vegetable mix and then dipped it into the dish next to it. Amalia did the same and the taste in her mouth was warm with spicy and savory flavors. She swallowed and looked back to him.

"I've never tasted anything like this before," she said looking at him. "Surely you did not come up with this out of loneliness?" Osirian swallowed and looked up to meet her gaze. "Wise question," he said plainly. "I did indeed learn from a talented chef in Amir."

Amalia looked up at him while taking another tare of bread. "What part of the desert do you originate?" she asked.

"I was born in the village of Za'mir. However, these kinds of cuisines are mostly enjoyed in the southern village of Abu'bara— where I lived after the war."

Amalia was suddenly reminded of her own nation's history. Before she was born, their nations had been in a nasty war over land. For seventeen long months, Maijal, the second largest city in Gai, and Amir's desert capital, Mazan, were at war for the land surrounding them.

In an attempt to change the subject, she went back to the story of how he came about living within Mount Aga'ra. "It must have been quite the journey to get to this place," Amalia said.

"Quite."

"So, you must have visited the city of Ba'sool?" Amalia spoke of the capital city of her nation. Ba'sool was famous amongst men and had some of the best trading and entertainment in all of Gana.

"Yes, but it was short lived. I journeyed from Abu'bara through Korozan. I didn't go the obvious route through Gai. I followed the pass through Mount Ja'mal and took a ship from the city of Zana to Port Eynes," he said ripping another piece of bread and repeating the process.

"That sounds like an incredible journey," Amalia said endearingly. "What exactly drew you to this mountain?"

"There are some things best not talked about over a meal." His words left Amalia stung by the quick change in his demeanor.

"Ah, right," she said returning to her meal.

They finished their breakfast with a thick silence. And when they had both finished eating, Osirian took all the dishware off the table and walked into the kitchen. He placed them all in a sudsy bucket and left them to soak. He picked up Seian's empty bowl and placed it in the same bucket as well.

Amalia sat at the table in silence, feeling as if she had said something wrong. Osirian turned to face the dining room where she sat. "Come with me, you have much to learn," he said and walked towards the wooden exit.

Amalialooked towards Seian, who was trotting after him and exhaled as she stood up off the cushion.Surprisingly, a rush of giddiness and determination ran through her. It starts here, she thought, quicklymaking her way out the wooden doorway.