Lion Fig Pie and Cloves

Gonyaul took a deep breath. There was a mouthwatering sweet and savory smell in the air that took him by the face and turned his head to look about the room. He was in a kitchen. Yes, a kitchen? It was clean, orderly and well stocked. The interior room was made of clay and stone with visible wooden Timbers framing the space and adding warmth to the color palette. It was well stocked with hanging plants from a garden, fruits and vegetables on an island space in front of him, and plenty of pots and containers throughout. There were objects as well. He recognized some familiar trinkets from The Desert, Fang, Ostiarium, Aquilos, and the Odsier Planes. Whoever lived here traveled well and enjoyed the combination of aesthetic styles.

Why was he in a kitchen on the ground, leaning up against another interior wall? And what was that sweet delicious smell that kept growing stronger? Even though he had never seen one, or tasted one, his mind said it was a Lion Fig pie. And like that he noticed it sitting on the window seal, barely viewable from his current vantage point.

Another gust of wind brought with it another inhale of the pie and something else this time. Cloves? A perfume that he quickly identified and it brought a smile to his face. Well he at least thought he was smiling? He heard a voice that sounded sweeter to his ears than his tastebuds imagined the pie. It was Voah and she was drawing nearer. He turned his head to look towards the living room doorway and sure enough he caught her form and shadow passing into the kitchen; however, it was quickly blocked by the island. She must not have seen him? Why would she, he was strangely enough sitting on the floor.

He was about to speak up when he heard another voice trailing behind her. It was a young girl’s voice and it spoke in Vauxian. He felt their presence pass by him as well and could swear they were speaking to one another, yet he couldn’t make out about what. He wanted to see them both so much that he tilted his body to the left and turned his head even more.

“Ahhh” he winced as the knot on his head, which was bruised and matted with blood, hit the wall and caused him further insult to the headache that was forming. His eyes closed from the pain and when he opened them he didn’t see Voah or the mysterious little girl in her wake. Instead he saw the dust and debris of a ruined interior, void of color, love and warmth. The sweet smell of Lion Fig pie mixed with Voah’s perfume had been replaced by the thick and nauseating smell of his own blood soaking the wrap tightly bound about the lower half of his face.

He had fallen asleep, or perhaps the rock skipping off his head had caused him to pass out when the adrenaline had a moment to subside. All the pain started to return to his waking form: the shoulder, the face, the head, the multitude of scrapes and bruises, the left leg. It was a lot to reprocess and he felt quite awake now.