Arlo's Cooking

"If nowhere is safe, we should get stronger," Iris calmly said.

Arlo couldn't accept Iris's answer. He removed Iris's hand from his head and sighed deeply.

"Then why did you lead us here?"

"Well, if the mages of this temple weren't killed, we could have achieved something significant, such as tracing the lord's whereabouts."

"But now that they're gone..." Iris paused before continuing.

"I can't be your disciple," Arlo interrupted.

The sword wielder shook her head, "She's not forcing you either."

Arlo's hands were fidgeting with each other, indicating nervousness. His hazel eyes looked to the ground, avoiding everyone's gazes.

"I just... I'm sorry if it sounds impolite. I can't learn magic skills from anyone. I've tried it before, but it was useless. I can only use my healing ability because it came to me naturally."

I winced at Arlo's statement, "What does it mean?"

"It means that his learning skill sucks; he can only utilize a certain ability that came to him as natural as breathing," The sword wielder said.

"Right, that's why I'm just a farmer," he sighed.

"Do whatever you want, but I hope you'll give it a shot. Who knows? Maybe you'll be able to learn a new ability," Iris shrugged.

The atmosphere was tense and awkward. Arlo gulped, hearing Iris's answer.

"Fine, I'll give it a shot."

Iris smiled and said, "That's the spirit."

"Iris, what should we do now?" I asked her.

"We should eat now."

"Are we going to hunt for food?"

"This place is where the most powerful mages lived; wouldn't it be weird if it doesn't have food and a kitchen?"

Ray left us and headed for some stairs. The lady from the library followed her and signaled for Arlo and me to come along.

We took the staircase to go downwards. We were met with a basement made for storage. We could see supplies of food displayed on the shelves: vegetables, herbs, spices, and meats.

Arlo's eyes were beaming with excitement at the sight of food. He took some steps closer to the shelves.

"I can cook you guys something," he said with a determined face.

He quickly took some food and looked at it. Iris and I looked at each other, wondering why Arlo wanted to cook so much.

Ray, who was looking around the room, said, "I'm hungry. I hope he makes something good."

"I'll make a soup with vegetables and meat. It's easy, but it'll make us feel better," Arlo said, cutting vegetables fast.

He kept cooking, and the smell of fresh food filled the room. We felt less worried and more hungry.

Iris stood by a shelf, smiling at Arlo. "You learned from someone good, Arlo," she said.

"My mom taught me how to cook," he said with a confused face.

"Or did she? I don't know. But I promise, I can cook."

Ray chimed in, "Just don't set the whole place on fire."

Arlo's hands worked well, and soon the soup was hot on a small fire. The nice smell of plants and vegetables made us want to eat.

"I think it's done," Arlo said, mixing the soup and adding more taste.

We came to a small table with joy. Arlo gave us the soup in bowls, and we sat down to eat a meal in a strange place.

The first taste of the vegetable soup showed Arlo's cooking skills. It was yummy and warm, a sign of his hidden talent.

Iris, taking a bite, nodded approvingly, "Not bad, Arlo. Looks like we've got a cook in the group."

Arlo blushed but smiled with satisfaction. "I'm glad you like it."

After we ate, Ray and I helped Arlo by washing the dishes while the librarian lady roamed the temple.

Then, a loud thump was heard. Ray immediately stood up and withdrew her sword with alertness.

"I'll check upstairs," she said, her voice wasn't wavering at all.

Arlo and I nodded, and the sword wielder went upstairs. I cowered at the possibility of another shadow entity emerging out of nowhere.

"I think we're going to be okay," said Arlo with an unsure smile.

"You don't look convincing, Arlo. You're shaking," I pointed at his hands.

He gulped and sighed, "I can't fool you, can I?"

"Hey... why did you say that you don't know whether your mom taught you to cook or not? I mean, why are you not sure?"

He frowned, "I can't remember my mom vividly. It's almost as if my memories of her were false."

He sighed as he was wiping a plate, "And every time I try to remember my mom, my head hurts so badly."

"Even the people around me seemed to forget my mom. They don't remember what kind of person she was. It's as if she never existed in the first place."

I caressed his back, trying to reassure him. "I'm sorry if it's a sensitive topic."

"No, no... It's okay. It's just a weird thing, it doesn't hurt me at all." He smiled.

"Alright..." I couldn't lie; I wanted to know more about what truly happened to him.

"If it's okay to ask, what about your dad?"

He frowned again as if he was trying to remember something important but couldn't.

"My dad? Um, I don't even remember having a dad."

"Oh, I see."

"People said that my dad-"

His words were cut by a loud thud. Ray screamed from upstairs, "ARGHH!"