Completed [Towers' Respite] Simple and Sweet

[Arysana]

Simple and Sweet Autumn 25, 513 AV The sun was yet to rise above the mountains, but Sana's body clock over ruled the lack of light. The fact she lived in the Eastern wing didn't help much, either, with the faint streams of light dancing across the sky all but unnoticeable when your window caught all dawn light. She watched flecks of dust swirl in the air above, darting in and out light, and a pit of disgust and uncleanliness began to swell within her stomach. She couldn’t help but imagine the floating balls of dirt and grime drifting too quickly toward her nose or mouth, and ultimately becoming part of her breath. She pursed her lips and blew, watching the fall out that the gust of air caused to the scene above. ‘Maybe I should get my butt out of bed. I’m going to be late, at this rate.’ She pulled herself up with a heavy groan, and her body rippled with pain; knotted and pinched from a hard day's climbing the night before. "By the gods," she rasped, "why the hell do I keep doing this to myself?" She leaned forward and stretched her body, thankful her average stature allowed her bed plenty of wriggle room spare. She let her eyes adjust for another moment, and fought the sharp bite of the early morning breeze as she twisted, and turned, and writhed on her mattress. She found that shoulders were stiff, but working loose, as were the cramps in cramps in her calves, though the aches and pains deep in her bones would stay with her for a few days. Which meant climbing was off limits until then. There was a knock at the door, the four short taps practically screaming the name of the perpetrator. "Sana, you there?" There was an urgency to woman's tone, for whatever benign reason it was that morning. "Meet me at the kitchen," Sana shot back, "I'll need another moment," her words were sharp and quiet, mindful of her possibly light sleeping neighbours. Little good such caution and pleasantries did, she found, with many of her fellow Lhavitians accustomed to their short bouts of sleep; many of her peers were known to sleep so deep not even the shattering of mirror outside their own quarters could stir them. Sana’s own early life in Wind Reach had her slightly different, and although she typically complied with most customary rests, she at times did so with rough, broken sleep, and in need of thick curtains to blanket the room in darkness. The woman gave a soft sigh, the sound of footsteps quickly trailing down the hallway following her departure. "Good Morning to you too, Rima," Sana grumbled to herself, slipping off the low bed and dragging herself towards her wardrobe, pleased with herself for taking the time to plan out her simple outfit a day in advanced. She gave a quick, calculating look to the window, struggling to see little more than the soft glow of lanterns, with only a few other students caught between the worlds ruled by Syna and that of Leth. Some, she supposed, may have even been up at such an obnoxious hour on purpose, with the gardens surrounding the Dawn Tower's wing rightfully looking the most splendorous when the morning sun hit the many mirrors and ornaments that accented the spaces below; however there was still another few moments until that world awoke. She pulled her clothing on with weak tugs, mindful of the developing blister or two, and energy all but exuberant. "Gloves," she mumbled, shaking her head. "I need to buy gloves, damn it." She bit her lip and scurried on, lacing her shoes and snapping off loose threading in her shirt, reminding herself why she chose to cover so much work, and mentally listing the necessities she ought to buy. She took a couple steps towards the door, before sighing and doubling back, making haste as she scrambled through her bag of belongings, and locating her makeshift cloth tie. "The last thing I need is to be roused on at this damn hour," she mumbled, bitter in recollection of past events. She gave her room a final once over, hands combing through her messy mass of hair, prepping it to be tied back, before finally exiting the room. In a quick movement, she twisted her hair into a low bun, freeing her hands to shield her eyes from the unfortunately placed mirrors about the hallway, her height and morning hour prime for causing glare and disorientation. It was a pretty sight, she had to admit, with the décor surrounding her bright and ethereal, so similar to what many of the winding halls of the Dawn Tower itself, it was thought the consistency was set to bring a sense of comfort and 'home' to the students during their studies at the tower itself. Sana quickly found herself humming a soft tune as she made her way through the shimmering halls, thankful she was blessed with a voice not so rough and unrefined as to cause the pain and discomfort of those that heard her, even if it was still nowhere near sweet enough to be called 'good'. It was another few moments, and several subtle changes in her hummed melody, until the heavy kitchen doors were in sights, with the chatter and of those already 'hard at work' heard several meters in advance. A small smile tugged at the girl's lips, oddly optimistic about the day to come; a feeling that, unfortunately, slipped away in an instant more. The door swung open, and a tall, short haired woman beckoned her in. "You're late," Rima hissed, taking a quick glance about the bustling place behind her, giving a curt nod to an older man by the pots and pans, as though announcing Sana’s arrival. "I'm sorry, Rima," Sana breezed, sliding past the woman with practiced ease, "But I did say I'd need another moment." "That's what you say every morning," she sighed, wild blonde hair falling into her eyes, "I really don't know why you slotted yourself in for the dawn shift, when you can scarcely get up on time," she grumbled, taking Sana by the elbow and leading her towards the stoves. Her grip was harsh and pointed, Sana needing to bite down on her lip to save face. She quickly sought distraction, eyes fervently searching the surroundings and people. Most were familiar, though there were the odd few that seemed like little more than drowsy students making the most of the self-service aspect of the kitchens, their hair messy and gazes distant. Her thought was shown proven by the fact that many lumbered around with little knowledge of where they were or what they were doing, managing to somehow function the cupboards to make a meagre meal. Her gaze then wondered to the regular attendees of morning kitchen shift, the main chef and Rima in particular. Sana didn't care for the former, but she had a penchant with Rima. The woman's short, golden locks and testy attitude reminded her some of her mother and sister Kanna, and her pragmatic 'let's get it done' attitude was motivating in such a distractive environment. All around, it seemed, there was movement and rhythm in all shapes and manners. There was always a sound of work, of food preparation or cooking; be it the slicing of vegetables or the boiling of broth, or the sizzle and simmer of food in cooking in pans. More than anything else, it was the smell of the place was what coaxed Sana to choose kitchen duty, with a wall of peppers, herbs, sweeteners and spice, most of which was grown in the gardens of the Respite itself, filling the room with an exotic aroma. The days the young woman loved most were those when sweet bread was baked and savouries for festivals, when the air so sweet it was palpable, and the winter and late Autumn nights that were dominated by the spicy scents of broths, noodles, and soups. "Now," Rima smiled, rounding on Sana. "We're going to start of small, then work our way up. The students will just have to deal with a rather paltry part of Dawn supper." Sana nodded twice, processing the words spouted at her. "Well, it’s not like you guys are really required to cook for- what?" "Pardon?" Rima asked, her tone cool and professional. "Did you really think you could get away with cleaning duty?" There was an increase in the pitch of her voice, a strange sweetness that could be seen as much condescending as it could be amused. “We have enough students using kitchen duty as a freebie as it is,” She continued, though Sana herself wondered just how many such students actually existed, “So we’ve-“ ‘You’ve’ Sana internally corrected, biting her tongue as a smile threatened her stoic expression. “-decided that we’re going to have at least you play a larger role in the preparation and cooking of meals.” There was a short silence, and Rima stood tight lipped and focused, leaving Sana to assume it was her turn to speak. “Right,” She said finally, nodding once as she spoke, “So, what? Dawn meals now and other fun stuff, like midnight meals, later on?” There was an edge to her tone, couple with a concerned look in her olive eyes. Her thoughts quickly ran to her other responsibilities, doubt striking her in regards to her ability to find the time to trade morning shift to noon or evening. “Yes,” Rima spoke, much sweeter than her previous harsh words, “That is correct.” “Ok, then… what first, Miss Rima?” Sana giggled, deciding that if the woman was going to act to formal, then she was to be addressed in an appropriate manner. Rima screwed up her face in response, before a rush of air shot out her nose, and a dear smile broke her hard expression, “hands must be washed and ingredients gathered, it’s good to see you had enough sense to tie back that lovely mass of hair of yours.” Sana gave a slight smirk, and turned on her heel, making quick of journey to the other side of the stone room. There was an old hand basin there, kept separate for the washing of hands, with little more than a bar of soap and rough towel accenting the bland corner. The smell of lavender nipped at her nose, and she wasted no more time in collecting the bar and scrubbing her hands. She needed to be more thorough than she’d originally thought, with fragments of bark and earthern debris clinging within her nails, and the odd light grazing requiring a good clean. Nothing painful, she was glad to find, but not a task swiftly completed. Upon drying her red raw hands, she gave another look about the room, scanning the expressions and placement of those around her, eyes flitting from one students overwhelmed gaze to another’s frazzled expression, before spying her superior. She briskly returned to Rima’s station, where bags of oats, rice, and cartons of okomo milk were diligently lain out in wait. “Grab two of our larger pots, while you’re there,” Rima’s voice rung out, a little too late. A heavy breath escaped Sana’s lips, and she swivelled and made her way back to the centre bench and cupboards. She knelt down and braced herself, bringing a hand up to catch the tumble of pots and pans as she opened the door. She felt the cool of the pans as they brushed against her skin, and flinched as the ripples and edges worn through from avid use brushed sharply against her arm. She then peered into the darkness before her, eyes catching the metallic shine of the desired pots not a moment before her patience wore out. It was a mightier effort to retrieve them than it was to spy them in the first place, with a mountain of other containers standing in between the young woman and her goal. A fresh scratch rose up on Sana’s arm as she dragged the pots towards her, the price she had gladly paid to keep her work as quiet and undisruptive as possible. She gave a haphazard smile to stumbling passer-by, acting as though she had all well and under close control. She had almost untangled her two targets when tanned hands snatched them well out her reach. “Too slow,” the voice rung, Rima’s form towering well above. “Hey-” Sana complained, calling after Rima as she took the pots herself to the station, “I was getting there.” “Yes, but nowhere near fast enough. You’ve already wasted at least a dozen chimes, how much longer do you wish to delay?” A sudden sense of foreboding struck deep in Sana’s stomach, with Rima’s look hard and focused. “You’re going to need to step up quite some bit to make the cut with these new responsibilities.” Sana opened her mouth to protest, but found no use in the action. She wouldn’t fight a battle she couldn’t win, nor one wherein she knew she was wrong. “Yes, Ma’am. What task shall I first complete?” Rima gestured to the larger of the two pots, ignoring Sana’s quip and tone, “Fill it halfway with water, we’ll start with rice.” Sana took in a deep breath, before retrieving the pot so wrongfully taken from her, and doing as asked. ’Rice. Right. I can do that. What’s so hard about it?’ The pot was heavier than she’d thought it’d be, given with what ease that Rima had seemed to lift it with. Her next destination required little thought, with only a single basin in the room deep enough to allow room for the colossal vessel. It filled rather slowly, and Sana was rich with time to waste, all of such spent in a futile attempt to ignore the stare that Rima was giving her. Apparently when you had a new trainee, the only thing you really had to do was observe and give orders. ‘She’s probably enjoying this more than anyone. I wonder if she’s-’ “That’s enough,” Rima rung out, and Sana flinched as she was thrown back into reality. “Now you’ll need to bring it to the boil, before we add the rice.” “Alright,” Sana mumbled, only just coming to process the challenge the next battle – she had to get the giant, heavy, pot of water to the nearby stove; without dying and or collapsing under the sheer weight of the thing. She cracked her knuckles and took in a breath, eyes quickly darting from the pot to her path, making a mind map of the many obstacles ahead. She nodded to herself, and took action before she could fathom a second thought. The weight she carried was incredibly heavy, and she could have sworn she heard laughter bubble from Rima’s general direction. For a moment Sana forgot to breathe, mind a whirl of thoughts along the lines of ‘Damn, shoot. Sugar. Oh Gods. My Gods. This is so heavy. What the hell. What the hell. I’m going to drop it. I’m going to drop it. I’m going to die. Rima will kill me. I’m going to die- wait, how the hell am I supposed to get this up onto the stove? Sugar. Gods damn this. What am I doing. Oh god its spilling- its spilling, no one slip or notice, no one slip or notice, No. No, no, no. You, random kid, out of my way- out of my way. Thank you. Wait, stop. No. Stay there. I’m not slowing down for you- Gods, kill me now I can’t feel my fingers or my hands, ow- am I bleeding? No its water false alarm. It felt like an eternity by the time the pot of cool water was finally in place upon the stove, and Sana wasted little time in turning the burner on. ’Task one, successful.’ She looked back to Rima, who stood still back at her station, a single eyebrow cocked and smile crooked. The woman then motioned her head toward the rice, leaving Sana to assume her next step. ‘Right into the deep end, first day? I’m not surprised. Sana took half a dozen steps towards Rima, cautious of her actions. ’Is she waiting for me to do something, or…?’ Carefully, she studied Rima’s expression and body language, looking for some sort of tell that she was on the right path – or than she wasn’t. If she’d have blinked, she would have missed it. It was only a small look, a passing frown accompanied by the narrowing of Rima’s eyes. Sana stopped, and raised her eyebrow at the woman, who returned her confused look with something far more pointed and condescending. ‘Ok,’ Sana thought, slowly turning on her heel, ‘I must be forgetting something.’ She eyes scanned the benches and cupboards, retracing her steps to pinpoint the area she should focus her attention. ‘New form of attack – what in this area would have to do with the next-’ Her eyes fell on one of the heavier draws, one that held the measuring supplies and containers, ’Bingo.’ She moved with a jolt, excitement perhaps too much for someone who had merely done as she was meant to. The draw was a weighty, and the cupboard itself some strange combination of stone, skyglass, and wood. She wasn’t much learned in the ways of architecture, nor did she ever intend to be – but with her mother’s artisan blood within her, she could at least appreciate fine work. Perhaps it was just her own bias, but the young woman always thought the Dawn Tower’s work much more of a marvel than any others’. She eyed the contents in front of her, surprised somewhat at the vast array of utensils before her, so much so she shot a look back at Rima, who gave little aid but a curt nod. Sana took the movement to mean that anything before her would do, and she wasted little time in grabbing one of the larger, more cylindrical measures. She couldn’t deny that she was thus far pleased with herself, and moved on towards Rima with less confusion than she’d started with. It also helped that the used of lamps and lanterns was becoming less and less required, with the sun making its presence more known with each passing chime, the warmth of Syna always brought with her a certain productive vigour. But the rising of Syna meant that Dawn Rest was soon to end, which mean that Sana’s incompetence had cost them dear time. They were a quarter bell behind schedule, at least, and the worry was wearing quickly into Rima’s expression. “Hurry up, we need to work double time,” Rima scolded, not able to afford the loss of a single chime, and deciding to bring the large woven bag of rice to Sana. “Quickly,” her voice was more rushed that time, slamming the bag down on the bench next to her. “How many do we need? You’ve watched make this at least a dozen times yet – how many measures of rice?” Sana floundered, eyes quickly moving from the rice, to the cylinder, and to the simmering pot. ‘Gods, Rima, do you really think I’ve ever paid that much attention?’ “Four,” she said, the elevating of her pitch hinting that she was giving no more than a rough estimation. “On with it, then,” she said, accenting her words with a dramatic gesture. “I’ll bring the rest of the ingredients to you in the meantime.” A wave of regret washed over Sana, and it wasn’t for the first time that she wished she could punch herself in the face for not being quicker about getting to work of a morning. Light caught her eyes, and in it she caught a dash of Rima’s urgency, and couldn’t help but scramble together the rice and cylinder, and less than gracefully make her way towards the pot. “Right,” she spoke to herself, needing to hear something she was used to. “Four measures of rice, and…” she had to get onto her tip toes to spy into pot, glad she was bright enough to keep her distance and narrowly miss a face full of steam, “The pot looks ready enough.” It was a simple enough task, and Sana completed it quickly, disregarding the number of time she spilled the rice and her lack of talent in the untying of knots. If Sana had turned around any latter, she’d have balled Rima over, the frantic woman near missing her protégé as she dumped the oats and okomo milk on the bench next to Sana, before doubling back for a pot and collection of sweeteners. “I could give you a-” Sana began, before cutting herself off as it became apparent she was speaking to empty space. She let out a sigh and turned her attention back to the boiling pot, biting the inside of her lip as she realised she’s forgotten a grab a utensil to stir with. At first her turn was quick and panicked, but she slowed herself down as she completed her one-eighty, mindful of a certain blonde cook running madly about the room. Once she found the coast clear, and mentally made a note of which sections Rima seemed to be tearing apart, she moved towards another section of utensils – hoping that stress was not having her memory fail her. With a hint of luck, she found what she needed, although not exactly what she sought – one of the longer, wooden spoons, not the one with holes it like she thought she ought to use, whatever technical name Rima liked to call it. Satisfied with her discovery, and largely unsure as to how long a pot of rice was allowed to be left alone, she made her way back to the stove, seeing Rima do so as well from the corner of her eye. Rima must have been moving at some insane speed, Sana figured, making it to the stove before her with such time to spare, she was able to dump and sort the sweeteners, and inspect the copper haired girl’s work. Sana’s stomach dropped as Rima stilled, before spinning and frowning at her. “Did you clean the rice?” ’Did I what the what now?’ “Uhh,” Sana began, her rush slowing to steady pace as she neared the narrow eyed woman, “It wasn’t clean before?” Rima sighed, extended her hand, and Sana offered the wooden spoon. “It isn’t required…” she mumbled, before tending to the rice – her higher stature granting her a better view of the contents brewing. “If you are serving rice plain, as we are now, it is best to wash off an excess starch before cooking. You’ve seen the state of the pots when amateurs cook their own meals, have you not?” Sana struggled for a response, taken aback by Rima’s sudden question. “Yes…?” “Then you’ve noticed the difference between myself and someone who knows little of what they’re doing?” “Yes,” she said, feeling as though it was the correct answer, before actually giving thought to the words said. “If we were planning on adding milk and sweeteners to make a form of creamed rice, it’d be desirable… however it doesn’t matter too much. I’d just rather things done right.” “I understand,” Her words were slightly dismal, much more submissive than she would be with any another – but this was Rima. The first person she really spoke to in the Tower’s Respite, the first one that mentioned the whole chores gig, and the one that suggested she take up kitchen duty and library work. She was someone who’d sigh and scold, and at least make an attempt to understand – unlike those like Armitican, who demanded and complained and refused to given a second thought. “I’ll do better next time.” Rima turned her head to the side slightly, and Sana caught a soft smile, an almost motherly look unfitting her age. “Put half a dozen measures of okomo milk into the other pot, and set it to simmer. We’ll give it time to heat before we add in the oats, but milk is different to water, we can’t have it burn.” “Right,” Sana moved towards the pot, shortly wondering whether she should measure the milk into the pot before or after she set in onto the stove. She gave a quick glance between the pot and stove, deciding on the later due to sheer ease. The second pot was smaller, lighter, and easier to move, but still great in the scheme of things. She left the stove off for the moment, wanting to get at least a small amount of liquid into the pot before she set it on, and quickly collected the oats and milk. Rima made no further comment, so the copper haired woman left herself to assume that it was up to herself not to screw up and fall out of favour with the other students. Pouring out the milk was far easier than the rice, she found, with the young woman concluding that each carton was around the same as two measures, and ultimately only using the cylinder twice, before deciding to just pour the entirety of the second carton into the pot. This practise warranted a sour look from Rima, however, and Sana found herself feigning ignorance and continued on her way. Once the milk was in and set on, she felt a ghost of annoyance hit her, remembering that Rima had stolen her wooden spoon. It was only a chime out of the way, but she couldn’t help but sigh as she sought after some other form of mixing device. What she managed to salvage was similar to the wooden spoon, but its shape was rather odd. She lacked the skill to be able to tell if it was in such a way for aesthetics or function, but she wagered it didn’t care too much, and hurried on mixing the milk and checking the rice. She could really see what Rima had meant, then, with a strange, opaque substance lining the pot and attempting to form upon the surface. “Mind your own pot, Elthorne,” Rima scolded, Sana screwing up her face in retort. “Right, right.” “Add in the oats while you’re at it, the rice is almost done and so is Dawn Rest.” “Uh-huh,” Sana chimed, giving the pot a swift, massive swirl, not satisfied to leave it until the contents were a whirlpool of white. She’d made the stupid decision of not cleaning out the cylinder after measuring the okomo milk, and had to ignore another annoyed sigh from Rima as she rinsed and dried it, before she was ready to measure out the oats. “Just a couple of measures, I’d say three at most,” Rima advised, as though it needed to be said. “It should only take about half a dozen chimes, give a couple.” Sana nodded away and continued with her orders, diligently stirring away once the oats were thrown into their milky doom. There wasn’t too much there, she thought, before thinking it time she checked up on the head cook, and noting that he himself was making some strange staple. She couldn’t help but catch the time as she did so, with the room bathed in morning light, and the lanterns and lamps put away until mid-afternoon, when the shadows crept once more. She figured that Dawn Rest still had a few more chimes left in it, with still only a few students milling about in the kitchens. ’I wonder if I’m expected to stay behind and clean, as well.’ She groaned at the thought. Scrubbing pots and pans was only a bearable task because that was all she had to do, and there wasn’t any way in particular that she could screw it up. The oats in the pot were thickening nicely, or at least she hoped they were. From what she could tell they were looking more and more like the final product that was served, but apart from that she didn’t have the slightest idea what to look for. Rima grabbed the rice from the stove, giving Sana a stern look, “I trust you to finish up there, I need to get this ready to serve.” Sana nodded, wondering how many times that morning she’d been given such a responsibility. Her eyes then wondered around the stove, and her gaze locked on the array of sweeteners. ’Damn, were those supposed to be put in?’ She mentally failed and looked about the room, reasoning that Rima wouldn’t have brought them to the stoves if they were not meant to be used, and grabbing the closest one. She took off the cap and smelt it – sickly and sweet, stronger than anything she’d had her hands on. She took a quick survey of the other bottles and pots, each a stranger shape and colour than the one before it, before concluding that there was little difference between them. She sighed and took another look at the oats. They didn’t look quite right. On the verge of being cooked well, she hoped, but painfully bland. The oats that Rima served always smelt much sweet, and more golden in colouration. She warred with herself, go out on a limb and see if she could do it, or ask Rima, and probably get scolded for being incapable of doing something so simple. She hated her own indecisiveness, and grumbled as she took hold of one of the less ornate bottles, and pouring in some of the sugary powder. Then she did the same with another, and another, and another. By the end of her little craze, the oats gave off such a sweet aroma is was almost sickly. ’Oh, Gods.’ She scolded herself, ’Now I’ve gone and added too much. Damn it.’ She took a cautionary look around the room, feeling a jolt of regret hit her as Rima made her way towards her. “You finished?” “Uh, yeah.” “What’d you do?” “What? Nothing.” “Really?” “Yes.” “You sure?” “Not a clue.” Rima sighed and examined the pot, tutting and turning off the heat. “How much sweetener did you put in this? You’re lucky it’s not badly burned, too, by the looks of it.” She then sighed and carried on, collecting a nicer looking container and prepping the oats to be served. “Well, then,” Sana began, deciding it not best to bring up the fact that she hadn’t even noticed it begin burn, “I guess it’s a good thing there’s extra sweetener to cover up the taste.” Rima raised an eyebrow, before sighing and shaking her head. “Dismissed, Elthorne. I expect you back tomorrow morning.” “Right,” she said, a gush of air leaving her lungs, "You sure you don't need a hand cleaning up?" ‘Please say no, please say no, please, please, please-’ "Oh, no," Rima said, a touch of conspiracy in her tone, jerking her head in the direction of an unfamiliar face, "New guy can do it." Sana smiled and headed for the door, calling out her final farewell at the last moment.

[Trickster]

Hello Arysana! Here are your treats!

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Singing	1
Bodybuilding	1
Cooking	3

Lores

♪ Lhavit Location: Dawn Tower
♪ New Responsibilities: Prepping & Cooking Meals
♪ Pots Are Heavier Than They Seem
♪ How to Cook Rice
♪ Boiling Oats: Too Much Sweetener!

Note :

I love how you described Rima! You made her seem very realistic. ^^

If you have any questions, comments or concerns, feel free to shoot either Elysium or myself a PM. Happy RPing!