"Werf, Jil, get inside and help with dinner," Hild called from the doorway.
The children exchanged grins before racing back inside, Fenr trotting after them. The smell of boiling broth already filled the air, rich and comforting. Inside the kitchen, a large pot bubbled over the fire, and the wooden countertop was covered with fresh vegetables and dried herbs.
Hild handed Jil a wooden ladle. "You're on soup duty. Stir, don't let it burn."
Jil nodded enthusiastically and climbed onto a stool to reach the pot. She gripped the ladle with both hands and carefully stirred, the fragrant steam curling around her face.
She inhaled deeply, her eyes widening as the rich, layered aromas filled her nose. "This smells amazing," she murmured. "Like… like the market stalls but better."
Hild smirked. "That's because it's fresh. Keep stirring."
Meanwhile, Hild turned to Werf, placing a knife in his hands. "You. Chop these. And don't lose a finger."
Werf set to work, slicing carrots, onions, and potatoes. His newly enhanced senses picked up every detail—the slight crunch of the blade cutting through vegetables, the earthy scent rising from the ingredients, the way the knife glided smoothly against the grain.
The vibrant orange of the carrots, the deep purple of the onions, and the rough texture of the potatoes all seemed more vivid than before.
Every motion felt more precise, his hands moving instinctively as if they already knew the best way to handle the blade.
Fenr sat by his feet, ears perked, eagerly gobbling up any scraps that fell from the table. The soft gnawing sounds from the wolf cub made Jil giggle as she peeked over her shoulder. "Hey, you better not feed him too much, Werf. He's going to get fat."
Werf scoffed. "He's growing. He needs food."
Jil gave Fenr a fond look before turning her attention back to the soup. Hild walked over and sprinkled in a handful of dried herbs, their aroma instantly intensifying.
The scent of thyme, rosemary, and a hint of garlic filled the room, making both children's mouths water.
Werf finished chopping and slid the vegetables into the pot. Jil stirred them in, watching as they softened and melded into the broth. She frowned slightly, then turned to Hild. "How do I know if it's ready?"
Hild grabbed a small wooden spoon, dipped it into the soup, and tasted it. She smacked her lips, then nodded. "Needs salt. And a little more stirring."
Jil grabbed the salt jar eagerly, pinching a small amount and sprinkling it in, watching the white grains dissolve into the bubbling liquid. She stirred again, humming softly. "This is kind of fun," she admitted. "It's like making a potion."
Hild chuckled. "Cooking and alchemy aren't so different. Just one fills your stomach, the other might kill you if done wrong."
The dining room was dimly lit by candlelight, casting soft shadows on the walls. Werf and Jil placed wooden bowls on the table while Fenr hopped onto a small rug by the fireplace, tail wagging.
The warmth of the room, the scent of good food, and the crackling of the fire made the orphanage feel more like a home than it had in a long time.
When the soup was finally ready, Hild ladled generous portions into each bowl. The moment Werf took his first sip, his eyes widened in shock.
The flavors were overwhelming. The richness of the broth coated his tongue, and the sweetness of the carrots balanced perfectly with the savory notes of the onions and herbs.
It was like discovering food for the first time. Every layer of taste was distinct—the gentle warmth of garlic, the faint bitterness of the rosemary, the comforting depth of slow-cooked vegetables.
Jil had the same reaction, eyes sparkling as she took another spoonful. "It's so… warm! And strong! And—it tastes like home."
Hild chuckled as she ate. "That's because you can finally taste it properly. Your bodies are waking up."
Between bites, they talked about their day, their excitement over their new abilities, and what training might be like tomorrow.
Werf described how sharp everything looked outside, how even the smallest movements in the grass caught his eye.
Jil excitedly shared how different scents were now—how she could pick out the individual herbs in the soup just by smell alone.
Fenr, meanwhile, was happily licking the bottom of a wooden bowl, oblivious to the conversation.
Hild listened quietly, her expression unreadable as she finished her meal. Once they had eaten their fill, she set down her spoon and leaned back in her chair.
"Enjoy it while you can," she said. "Tomorrow, you'll be too sore to appreciate food properly."
After eating, Jil scrubbed the dishes while Werf wiped the table. Even these simple tasks felt different—easier, clearer, as if their bodies were moving with newfound precision.
Werf noticed how the cloth dragged smoothly against the wooden surface, how even the tiniest crumbs were easier to see. Jil, meanwhile, marveled at how effortlessly she could scrub away even the toughest bits stuck to the bowls.
As they finished up, Hild stretched and stood. "Sleep early. I'll wake you at dawn."
Werf and Jil groaned but nodded. Fenr let out a small woof, making Hild smirk.
They made their way to their shared room, where a single bed large enough for all three of them awaited. Werf and Jil climbed in from opposite sides, while Fenr curled up in the middle, his small body warm between them.
Jil yawned. "What do you think training will be like?"
Werf stared at the wooden ceiling, his mind already racing with possibilities. "Hard."
Jil grinned. "I hope it is."
With that, the room fell silent, save for the quiet crackling of the fireplace. Soon, they drifted into sleep, the scent of herbs and warm soup still lingering in the air.