A Recipe for Cake: Ereb

Ereb dreamt that he was home. The smell of mother's baking was in the air, mixed with the acrid scent of sawdust from the workroom, the crisp taste of cut green grass from the fields, and the comforting smell of lavender flowers. Mother always tucked lavender into their bed sheets to help them sleep. The bright sun and soft breeze told him it was late spring on the Amell property, and the birds were trilling a cheery tune outside the window. Ereb breathed in deeply and stretched, his long legs dangling over the too-small bed.

"Wake up, sleepy head," called a voice from the other room. Ereb yawned expansively and smiled. "I'm up," he called back, "It smells delicious."

"Made your favorites for your homecoming! Now get over here before your brother and sister come in so we can surprise them. They don't know you're back yet."

Ereb buried his face in the sheets one last time before giving up the pretense of sleep. He clambered out of the small bed frame, unfolding like a stork taking flight.

Things had not changed much since he left. His hand lingered on the smooth, carved surface of the bedpost as he rose, feeling down the side for the place where he and his father had carved their initials to identify their work. Ereb remembered fondly how proud he was to have helped cut and sand the wood. Across the room, a medium-sized chest stood next to a small folding desk of dark, rosey oak where he spent many a hour reading and writing stanzas in his youth.

A woman's voice was singing in the next room. Ereb pulled on his long blue robes and leather belt and went in search of the singer. He stepped from his bedroom into the well-lit, airy kitchen and spotted the short woman at the stove, a large shawl draped around her head. "Mother," he grinned, opening his arms to embrace her. The woman turned around. Ereb's jaw dropped.

"Oto? What are you doing here?" he asked, stunned. The dark-skinned girl with the long blond dreads looked at him quizzically.

"Is that any way to talk to your mother?"

Before Ereb could get another question out, Jowan walked in, a smirk plastered all over his face like he was sucking on a secret and couldn't wait to share.

"Hey, bro. Dubba-you bee. That means 'welcome back'." Ereb had not yet had time to close his mouth yet. He continued to watch, gape mouthed, as Jowan was immediately followed by Kylla, who inexplicably wore Ethel's favorite purple dress; only that it was too small even for her elfin frame, and the hemline stopped significantly short of her knees.

"Big brother!" Kylla cried, running forward into his arms. Ereb could feel the blood rising inside him.

"What's going on here?" He finally managed.

"Welcome home!" Chirped Kylla, uncharacteristically bouncing up and down while still holding onto his neck. "Just wait till Papa gets in to see you. He has a surprise!"

"Oooh! I have a surprise for him, too!" Squealed Oto, joining the fray. "A top-secret cake recipe just for you, my boy!"

At that moment, a loud thud drew everyone's attention to the door. Ereb blanched at the sight of the tall, gray-haired man and the stern, gray face. He immediately recognized the Knight Commander Greagoir, terror of the apprentices and the law and justice of the Circle Tower. In his hands was a large, wicked blade that was red with stains.

"Ho, my boy!" Shouted Greagoir, brandishing the sword, "I've been out in the fields cutting up strawberries for you!"

Ereb wrestled free of Kylla's grasp and began backing back towards his room, shaking unsteadily.

"I, uh – uh – uh, I huh – huh – huh – have to go now..." he stuttered. The family looked concerned. As one the group moved towards him, their faces cast in shadow they moved away from the light. Each step forward forced him a step back, deeper into the other room, backing away until his legs ran up against the bedpost and he was at the wall.

"Stay, son," said Greagoir, holding up his juice-stained sword, "Don't you like strawberries?"

"I haven't even given you my secret cake recipe yet," growled Oto, towering over him. Her hands reached out for Ereb.

"I don't want it!" said Ereb, stumbling backwards into the bed as he raised his hands over his head to ward her off.

Ereb hit the floor of his room with his arms still clutched around his head, heart pounding. The sudden jolt of the fall shook him awake. He thrashed about in his blanket, unable to see, gulping down air like a man rescued from drowning. He finally managed to pull the covers from his head and got a clear view of the dimly lit room with shabby bunk beds lined up like boxes and a half a dozen apprentices going about their morning rituals; some staring at him openly with curious looks. The same apprentices' room that he had slept and dreamt in for the past eleven years. The same shabby chest where he kept his paltry belongings. The same stuffy world he had lived and breathed in since the day he had walked through the foreboding, gray walls and watched the thick iron doors of the Circle close on the life behind him. Eleven years since he had left home.

"Heeeey, are you okay?" asked a familiar female voice by his side. Ereb clutched the blankets to his chest, suddenly self-conscious that he was wearing nothing more than his threadbare under robes and some scanties. Oto thrust her face at him. "You were screaming pretty loudly, there!"

"I – I – I – I'm f – f –f – f – fine," he managed, his eyes wide with anxiety as the older girl peered down at him.

"Hey, what? I'm not going to molest you." Oto made a face. "Unless you wanted me to." She seemed to consider the idea. "Mmm, no. On second hand, no, not even if you wanted me to." A mischievous grin crept across her face. "But you know who we should get to molest you?"

Ereb slapped both hands to his face and tried to bury himself behind them. Oto prattled, blissfully unaware of the mortification she was causing him, or perhaps deliberately talking so loudly so that she would be overheard, as she followed him about the boy's dormitory while he prepared for the day. He grabbed a robe from the small chest at the base of his bed and did his best to get out of the room as quickly as possible. He stepped into the hallway, a stack of notes under one arm, and tried to tighten his leather belt with the other. Oto followed him down the hallway as he walked to his novice lecture class in the library.

"Do you remember what day it is today?" she asked.

"Yes. We're starting the new apprentices on summoning today. I need to help Senior Enchanter Wiggum with the rune preparations."

"No. I mean, do you remember why it's *special* today?"

"Special?" Ereb was confused.

"Aren't you going to see Kylla today?"

"What? W – w – w – why would I do that?" Ereb pulled at his belt nervously. Did he buckle it too tight?

"Because you like her, don't you?" Oto pulled at his arm so that Ereb had to stop to look at her. She leaned in, close enough for him to feel her warm breath on his cheek. Ereb blushed to his ears as the girl's long pale hair brushed against his brow, but it was the words themselves that made his heart beat about wildly like a caged animal in his chest.

"You - should - ask - her - for - a - kiss." Oto drawled. The very thought sent the blood boiling Ereb's head. Oto smirked. "C'mon, you know you want to. Plus... it's your birthday!"

"B - b - b - b - b - b," Ereb managed to stutter. He wasn't having much luck with vowel sounds.

Oto leaned in again, speaking in fast, clipped speech. Ereb's head swam. He heard the words, "First... confession... always wanted to... and love." The word "kiss" came up more than once, but the maelstrom of words had stopped making sense. He was sure Oto could hear the loud beating of his heart through his thin chest, and was embarrassed that she appeared to be pretending not to notice.

"Hey, Ereb. Hey! Are you listening to me?"

"B - b - birthday...?"

"C'mon! You can't let her get away from you like that!"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Haven't you heard anything I've been saying? Your girl is going to confess her love to someone else! She told one of the younger apprentices last night that she was 'making a very special date' this morning with someone named Gutten. You can't let her get away from you like that, right? You have to tell her first and be a man. Win her love back!"

Oto punctuated her enthusiasm with a slap to Ereb's arm that made the younger man stumble. He rubbed the area sheepishly, feeling stunned and out of place.

"I... I must protest?"

"Yeah, but don't you like her? You do like her, don't you?"

Ereb twisted the sleeve of his robe a few times before he responded. "But isn't that rather forward? I don't think that sounds like something Kylla would..." he paused. A gnawing, aching pain was making it hard to breathe. He forced the next words out of his mouth, "Well, if it's someone that would make her happy – "

Oto's sudden arm about his neck nearly choked him on his own words.

"Buddy, take it from me. This guy's got nothing on you. You just need to approach her the right way. What any woman wants is for a tall, strong man to take her around her little waist, like this, and to pull her close to him, like this, and then, with a great, big, dashing grin, plant his mouth squarely on her lips like - "

Oto blinked as the space where Ereb had been emptied itself. Ereb slide from her grasp in a dead faint, his forehead knocking the ground with a muffled splat as his cheek kissed the floor. Oto's mouth twisted a thoughtful pout. She hadn't even finished her courtship demonstration yet, and this was the clothes on version of the lesson. Oto sighed. Twenty though he now may be, the twitching boy on the ground still had a long way to go before becoming a man. She began looking around for Jowan to help her carry Ereb back to his room.