Steam hit Erian's face the moment he lifted the lid from the pot, enveloping him in a thick scent of broth and herbs. The bubbling water, the crackle of damp firewood in the stove, and the rhythmic thud of knives on wooden boards filled the kitchen with life.
Erian leaned toward the pot to stir its contents. He moved naturally, approaching the fire without hesitation and reaching for the right shelf of spices without even looking.
It was almost impossible to believe that, just weeks ago, he had stood frozen at the entrance of that very kitchen, stiff as a statue, unsure whether to step forward or turn back.
