Cold mud oozed against my cheek, gritty and damp, seeping into my skin like a slap from fate. I groaned, eyes fluttering open, head throbbing like I'd been hit with a rolling pin. In my hand, a cracked wooden spoon dangled, its splintered edge digging into my palm—a sad excuse for a weapon. Last night—or whenever—I'd been hunched over a counter at 3 a.m., piping cream onto a cake, chasing that perfect swirl until my vision blurred. Then nothing. Now, here I was, sprawled in a filthy ditch, my once-handsome face caked with dirt, brown hair plastered across my forehead in sweaty clumps. Perfect. I just wanted to curl up under a rock and vanish, but a heavy boot jabbed my ribs before I could even try.
"Hey, pretty face, move it!" The voice rumbled like thunder, rough and impatient. I flinched, peering up through tangled bangs. A bearded giant towered over me—Garr, I'd learn later—his scarred armor glinting dully in the gray light, a smirk twisting his weathered face. Something gray and hard thudded into the mud beside me, kicking up a splatter that stung my cheek. Bread? No, a lump of stone masquerading as food. "Cook something edible, or you're wolf bait," he growled, meaty arms crossing over his chest. My throat clamped shut, words dissolving into a tight knot of panic. Talk back? Me? Never.
I scrambled upright, knees wobbling, brushing mud off a shirt so torn it barely clung to my shoulders. Three pairs of eyes bored into me: Garr's, fierce and mocking; Lina's, the mage, sharp and icy under her hood, her lips curling like I was a roach; and Tev's, the skinny bowman, quiet but piercing, his fingers resting on an arrow like I might sprint off. I wished I could—my heart hammered, face burning—but my legs were jelly. "He'll poison us with that pretty-boy nonsense," Lina sneered, her staff tapping the ground with a hollow thud. Tev stayed silent, his gaze unnerving. I ducked my head lower, praying they'd lose interest.
The lump of bread sat in my trembling hands, hard as a brick and speckled with green fuzz. Nearby, a dented pot lay tipped in the dirt, spilling out a handful of speckled eggs—bigger than any hen's, shells glinting faintly—and a soggy wad of moldy dough. Cooking? In this mess? I'd rather melt into the ground, but arguing wasn't an option. I shuffled closer, knees sinking into the muck, and rummaged through the ashes of a dead fire. Twigs, a flint—good enough. My fingers shook as I stacked the wood, striking sparks until a weak flame flickered to life, orange tongues licking the air. The heat steadied me, just a little. People were loud and unpredictable; ovens weren't.
"Waste of time," Garr grunted, turning his back with a scrape of metal. Lina's laugh grated like nails on glass. I ignored them, scraping mold off the dough with my spoon, the sour stench wrinkling my nose. The eggs cracked open with a satisfying pop—yolks thick and golden, richer than anything I'd worked with before. No sugar, no honey, but a cluster of strange purple flowers poked through the mud nearby, their petals dripping with sticky, amber nectar that smelled of ripe fruit and sunlight. I plucked a handful, crushing them into the mix, the sweet tang cutting through the damp air.
My hands took over, kneading the dough with a rhythm I couldn't shake—years of muscle memory from a life I barely lived. The world shrank to the fire's crackle and the soft squish of dough between my fingers. I flattened it into a rough circle, golden flecks of nectar glistening on top, and set it on a flat stone I'd dragged over the flames. "Thirty seconds more, don't you dare burn," I muttered, voice barely a rasp, my breath hitching as I watched the edges crisp. Heat kissed the dough, and a scent unfurled—warm and buttery, laced with that floral sweetness, like a bakery blooming in the wild. The muffin puffed up, its surface cracking into a perfect golden-brown, steam curling off in delicate wisps.
"What's that smell?" Tev's voice sliced through, soft but sharp. I froze, head snapping up. The bowman's nose twitched, his arrow drooping. Lina's sneer faltered, her staff tilting as she leaned closer. Garr spun around, nostrils flaring like a hound's. "Some fancy trick?" he rumbled, but his boots thudded back toward me, eyes locked on the stone. The muffin sat there, a tiny masterpiece—crisp edges, soft center, a faint shimmer from the nectar catching the light. I yanked it free, the heat stinging my fingers, and dropped it onto a scrap of muddy cloth. "Done," I mumbled, shrinking back, face blazing hotter than the fire.
Garr stomped over, snorting. "This junk?" He snatched it, thick fingers tearing off a chunk with a crunch that echoed. I braced for the worst—yelling, spitting, maybe a fist. Instead, his jaw froze mid-bite. His eyes widened, pupils dilating, then watered like he'd been punched in the gut. He swallowed, a loud gulp, and shoved the rest in his mouth, crumbs tumbling into his beard. "What the—" Lina lunged, snagging a piece before he could hog it all. "You pig, save some!" Her first bite silenced her—her smug mask cracked, cheeks flushing as she chewed slower, savoring it. Tev darted in, swift and silent, popping the last morsel past his lips. His stoic face softened, just for a heartbeat.
Then Garr crashed to his knees, mud splashing around him, and roared, "More!" He grabbed my arm, yanking me forward. I yelped, stumbling, but his grip was iron. "Make more, kid! Now!" Lina nodded, dazed, licking nectar off her fingertips with a hungry glint. "Yeah… more," she breathed, her staff clattering into the dirt. Tev clutched his bow tighter, staring at me like I'd cast a spell. My face burned so hot I thought it'd melt off. "N-No… no stuff left," I stammered, scrambling back until I hit a jagged rock, my pulse racing.
They loomed closer, wild-eyed, a wall of armor and desperation. "You're kidding!" Garr bellowed, shaking me until my teeth rattled. "That was—that was—" He flailed, words tripping over themselves. "Heaven on a damn rock," Lina finished, her voice hoarse, still sucking her fingers clean. I wanted to sink into the earth, vanish under their stares, but they wouldn't let up. "You're with us now," Garr declared, clapping my shoulder with a force that nearly toppled me. "Cook like that again, or I'll haul you myself!" My stomach twisted—trapped by lunatics—but a flicker sparked deep inside, unbidden. They liked it. They needed it.
I ducked my head, hiding behind my bangs, but my eyes snagged on something past the chaos: clusters of red berries glowing faintly in the distant trees, like tiny lanterns in the gloom. Jam? Tarts? My mind whirred despite the panic, old instincts clawing free. This place was a nightmare—mud, wolves, loudmouths—but if a muffin could drop them to their knees, maybe I had a shot. Maybe more than that. "Uh… okay," I mumbled, voice lost in Garr's booming laugh, and for once, the noise didn't scare me quite as much.