Avara POV
Resting against the expansive window of the library, nestled on the cushioned corner. Engrossed in reading a book, In Search of Lost Time by Marcel Proust. I've been reading for hours, indulging in literature. My eyes stray to the view outside, waking me from my daydream. The canopy of stars scattered like elf fust across the breadth of the sky. It causes the penumbra of colors to reflect on the lake, mirroring the cosmos. I smile softly… then it starts to fade.
I sniff the air. A horrid smell like burnt toast but a thousand times stronger.
I discard the book, running out of the library and dashing down the corridor. I appear in the foyer and I race inside the chef-style kitchen, immediately bombarded by the smell of burnt onions. My eyes jump to multiple pots and pans on the stove, some simmering, most at a roiling boil. And a skillet looking close to being a fire hazard.
