Arin had only taken a few steps when Mira spoke. "Sit." Arin paused, looking at her. Then he looked down at the chair. Then back at Mira. "I’m fine." "I’m not injured." "That doesn’t mean you should be moving around." Arin sighed. "Fine." He sat and Mira crossed her arms. "Good." Saira stood nearby watching the exchange with a small smile. Ayan closed the door behind them. Arin gave him a look. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?" "I find Mira’s orders difficult to refuse." Arin sighed. "Of course you do." Mira circled him, inspecting his arms and shoulders. "Any pain?" "None." "Are you sure?" "Yes." "Dizziness?" "No." "Headaches?" "No." "Strange sensations?" Arin hesitated. Mira’s eyes narrowed instantly. "Arin." "It’s nothing." "Arin." He sighed. "My life is strange." Mira studied him for a moment then nodded. "Fair enough." Saira smiled. "She is learning." Arin looked at her. "Don’t encourage her."
Finally Mira sat down. For a moment no one said anything. Arin looked around the room. It was strange because only a few hours ago he had been in the dungeon. Now he was home. Not that there were any monsters attacking or tunnels collapsing, but still, the sight of sunlight streaming in the windows was quite something. Arin leaned back in his chair. "This is almost surreal." Mira looked at him. "What is?" "Being home." Mira’s expression softened. She looked down for a moment. "When you fell..." She trailed off. Arin said nothing. He knew well enough what she was going to say. Mira met his eyes again. "You’re here now." Arin smiled. "Yeah." Ayan suddenly cleared his throat. "You should eat." Arin gave him a strange look. "Eat?" "You have been fighting, traveling, and nearly dying. Your body needs nutrition." "I’m not that hungry." Ayan gave him a long look. Then he turned and walked towards the kitchen.
Arin watched him go. "What is he doing?" "Preparing food," Saira said. Arin blinked. "You know how to cook?" There was no answer but Ayan’s voice from the kitchen. "Of course." Arin turned to Mira. She shrugged. Saira crossed her arms. "He does." Arin got to his feet. "I’m going to see this." Mira pointed at his backside. "You should be resting." "I’m walking to the kitchen. That’s not exactly rest for you?" Arin sighed. "This is worse than the dungeon." Mira waved him off finally. "Fine. But don’t do anything." Arin wandered into the kitchen. Ayan was already working, peeling and preparing the food with practiced ease. He worked swiftly and efficiently, never pausing as he did so. Arin watched him for a moment. "You actually know what you’re doing." Ayan didn’t turn around. "I should hope so." "Where did you learn?" Ayan paused. "My former master."
Arin blinked. "Your former master?" Ayan nodded. "Cooking was among his many talents." Arin looked at him. "You were actually a butler?" "I served my master in many capacities." Saira entered the kitchen. "You were always good at it." Ayan glanced at her. "You remember?" Saira smiled. "I remember many things." There was a strange note in her voice that made Arin glance at her. "You two really knew each other before me, didn’t you?"
Neither said anything for a moment. Ayan continued preparing the food. Saira leaned against the counter. "We did." Arin narrowed his eyes. "Because of the previous Dungeon Master?" Ayan nodded. "Yes." That was the first time either of them had openly acknowledged the connection. Arin looked between the two. "So you two weren’t just chance acquaintances?" "No," Saira said. "We both knew the previous Dungeon Master." Ayan gave a small nod. "Actually, I served them." Saira looked at Arin. "And I was connected to them as well." Arin frowned. "What’s the difference?"
Saira’s expression was grave. "I wasn’t their servant." Ayan nodded. "She was someone they protected." Saira looked away and Arin said nothing. He could see the difference, but he would let them explain it on their own. "So that’s how you two know each other." "Yes," Ayan said. Arin looked at the food he was preparing. "Did the previous Dungeon Master teach you how to cook?" Ayan shook his head. "No." "Then where did you learn?" "I learned because my master required someone competent to run his household." Arin smiled. "So you’re basically a professional butler?" "Correct." Saira suddenly spoke. "He was always like this." Ayan looked at her. "Like what?" "Too serious." "I am serious." "You once spent an entire afternoon organizing books by size."
"They were not properly sorted." Arin laughed. "You’re serious about everything." Ayan nodded. "It is a useful quality." Saira rolled her eyes. Arin looked at the two of them. They had clearly known each other for a long time. It wasn’t just the glances they shared or the way they spoke to each other. It was in the way they interacted, as though they had spent years together rather than only a few months. Ayan set the food down on a plate. "Please eat." Arin sat down and took a bite. He paused, then looked up at Mira who had entered the kitchen. "Is it bad?" Arin shook his head. "No."
He took another bite. "It’s really good." Mira tried some and her eyes widened. "This is amazing." Ayan nodded. "I’m glad." Saira crossed her arms. "You’re showing off." Ayan looked at her. "I am preparing food." "You know what I mean." Arin looked between them. "What’s going on?" Saira gestured at Ayan. "He’s showing off." Ayan looked at her calmly. "You are simply upset because you cannot cook." Saira’s expression darkened. "I can cook." Ayan paused. "You burned water." There was a pause. Arin looked at Saira. Mira blinked.
Saira’s mouth twitched. "That was once." Ayan nodded. "It was still impressive." Saira shot him a glare. "Ayan." "Yes?" "Stop talking." Arin burst out laughing, as did Mira. Saira crossed her arms and glared at them both. "This family is ridiculous." Arin stopped laughing. "Family?" Saira stiffened. Ayan looked at her. Mira looked from one to the other. Saira slowly turned to face Arin. "I didn’t mean..." Arin smiled. "It’s fine." The moment passed and Arin shook off the strange feeling. It was time to move on to more important matters. "Can I ask something?" Ayan looked at him. "Of course."
"What happened to the previous Dungeon Master?" There was a hush in the room. Ayan’s face darkened. Saira stopped smiling. It took a few seconds, but finally Ayan spoke. "They are no longer here." Arin frowned. "Dead?" Ayan said nothing. Saira looked out the window. "We don’t know." Arin’s brow furrowed. "You don’t know?" Ayan shook his head. "Their passing was not simple." Arin frowned. "What happened?" Ayan was silent for a long time.
Finally, Saira spoke. "You are not ready for that story." Arin sighed. "Everyone keeps saying that." "Because it’s true," Saira said. Arin looked between the two. "So there was another Dungeon Master before me?" "Yes." "And you both knew them?" "Yes." "And there’s something about their passing that you aren’t telling me?" Ayan nodded. "Yes." Arin looked at him. "You’re surprisingly honest." "I have no reason to lie." Arin leaned back in his chair. "Fair enough." Mira looked at him. "You’re just going to leave it at that?" "For now." Arin looked between the two. "But eventually, you’re going to tell me." Ayan nodded. "When you are ready." Saira smiled. "And when you’re strong enough." Arin sighed. "That sounds suspiciously like ’not now.’" "It is," Ayan replied. Arin stared at him. Then he laughed. "You’re impossible." Ayan went back to cleaning the kitchen. "I have been told."
_______
Far away from their home in another town there was a man sitting alone in a quiet room. A report lay on the table in front of him and he slowly opened it, reading the name written on the page.
Name: Arin Rahman
Race: Human
Rank: F
Level: 12
His eyes trailed down the page, taking in the additional information. Additional information: Possesses a black mark on the right hand. The man’s expression darkened slightly. He reached under his coat, removing an old pendant from his vest. On it was an ancient symbol, one that was identical to the one on the paper. The man held it for a moment before speaking.
"So..." He closed his fingers around the pendant. "The Dungeon Master has appeared again." The man standing across the room from him lowered his hood. "What are your orders?" The man set the paper aside. "Find him." "Yes." The other man hesitated before speaking again. "What about the dragon?" The first man’s expression became grave. "Do not approach it." The second man looked surprised. "Why?" The man looked out the window at the distant mountains. "Because the previous Dungeon Master’s records contain one warning they never heeded." He paused for a moment. "Never mistake the servant for the master." There was a pause as the two men stared at the paper. The man looked back at it. "And if the old records are correct..." His eyes narrowed. "...the boy may be far more important than we know."