"Help, help, someone help!"

The cry startled me, and I nearly cut off my finger while slicing meat for a pie. I suddenly wished for my sword, so whoever shouted could be run through with it. No, no, I scolded myself. My sword and shield were hidden deep in the recesses of my bank; I didn't use it anymore. I'd given up fighting long ago. But, somehow, I'd been wishing for the old days more and more lately...

A young boy of maybe sixteen burst into the kitchen.

"What's the idea, here, boy? You can't just come running in here!" cried one of my fellow cooks, flinging stray bits of vegetables around as she shook a soup spoon at him.

"I need help!" he repeated loudly."I need Zella Moon!"

I ducked my head down and carried the meat pie to the oven. I was Zella Moon, but he didn't need to know that. I was done with helping people. I wanted to live the rest of my life in peace.

One of the cooks threw a helpless glance in my direction before saying hastily, "Sorry, don't know her."

The boy missed the glance and cried out in exasperation, "Oh, but you must, you must! My father's missing, see, and he told me that she would be here..." He craned his neck, looking at the twenty or so heads in the Varrok castle kitchen.

The cook grabbed him by the back of his shirt and threw him outside, slamming the door in his face. Aware of the scent of something burning, I threw open the oven door. The pie was slightly burned. I took it out and tried to hide it, blushing to the tips of my red hair.

~*~

I didn't encounter the boy for two more days. I was on my way to the Cooking Guild when I saw him.

"Are you a cook in the Varrok castle kitchen?" he asked, bounding up to me.

I sighed and said, "Get out of here, you stupid boy. I prefer to be left alone."

"You didn't answer my question," he pouted.

I stopped abruptly and turned to face him. I grabbed the front of his shirt and snarled, "Leave me alone!"

He gasped and I let go. Just as I was walking away, I heard him exclaim in surprise, "You're Zella Moon!"

I stopped moving; I felt like I'd been punched in the stomach. So, he'd figured it out at last. Oh, why won't he leave me alone?! I thought frantically. But I stalked away, my face burning.

"Well, wait up!" he called. I heard his quick footsteps behind me and walked faster. I was determined not to get caught up in his troubles; my adventuring days were over.

I reached the door to the Guild and hammered on it frantically. "It's Zella!" I cried; the door opened and I ducked inside, shutting it quickly. A few seconds later, there was more knocking.

The Guild Master peeked outside and remarked to no one in particular, "No chef's hat. I'm not letting him in." I sighed with relief and ascended the stairs, gathering items for the kitchen as I went.

~*~

I thought about the boy as I laid in bed that night. "He's probably just some kid whose father left home," I said to myself. "I doubt I knew him at all."

But something nagged at me, and I laid there for several hours trying to figure out what it was. Finally, it came to me. I threw my sheets off, leapt out of bed, and grabbed the newspaper that was sitting on my nightstand. I flipped open to a page I'd marked and... there it was. The headline to the small article read: Two Monks Disappear From Edgeville Monastery; Black Knights Are Prime Suspects.

I laid the paper on my bed, still open to the marked article, and started to put on my clothes. I paused, halfway through searching my drawer for an extra shirt, when I spied a piece of brown fabric in the very back. I pulled it out and it unfolded; it was my robe. For ten years I'd lived in the monastery by Edgeville. But I'd left to go on a missionary trip to the Wilderness by myself and... never returned. And somehow I ended up cooking for the people in Varrok's palace, which is what I've been doing for the past three years.

Smiling at the memory of those happy years, I slipped the robe over my head. It still fit, to my surprise, and was as warm as I remembered. I pulled on my boots and was just tying my blue cape around my neck when I received another surprise: a glimmer of silver in my drawer. I let the cape fall from around my shoulders and reached in. I felt around in the bottom until my fingers found a cold chain. Pulling it out, I realized it was a holy symbol, another talisman from my monastery days.

I tied the necklace and my cape around my neck. Then, taking one last glance around the tiny room, I left, shutting the door behind me.