Niviene Larethian

Of Cookies and Colors

Every surface was coated with a light dusting of white, almost as if it had snowed indoors. Two blonde heads bent over the table, using cutters to make animal shapes of the dough. “Did you know I used to not know how to cook?” Niviene asked.

Korissa looked up, her blue eyes narrowed in disbelief, “Nuhuh. Really? Did daddy teach you?”

The priestess laughed and shook her head, “You think daddy’s a good cook?”

The girl nodded as she brushed a strand of hair from her face, leaving a trail of flour behind, “He makes the best pancakes ever.” She replied.

“That is true.” Niviene agreed. “Actually Madam Eva taught me a long time ago.”

“Madam Eva?” The girl’s eyes had grown round as saucers, “You know her? She’s scary.”

“Why do you think that?” Niviene asked as she placed the cookie dough onto the baking sheet.

“She’s tall, and has silvery black hair, and she’s old.” the girl replied, climbing down from her stool to help carry the pan to the oven.

“And that makes her scarey?”

Korissa looked up at Niviene and rolled her eyes, “Not just that.”

Niviene blinked, biting her lip to keep from laughing at the all too familiar gesture as she closed the oven door. The two of them sat back on their heels to gaze into the tiny window of the oven, admiring their handiwork for a moment before Niviene rose and wiped her hands on her apron. Her gaze took in the flour dusted kitchen and she gave an inward groan, “Okay, we’ve got a mess to clean up.”

The girl mimicked her mother’s actions, causing the priestess to once more bite her bottom lip to suppress a chuckle. As the two of them set about righting the chaos of cooking making Korissa continued, “How come everybody listens to Madame Eva? She just runs a boarding house and makes clothes but everybody treats her like she’s important.”

“Madame Eva has lived here a very long time sweetie, she’s seen a lot of people come and go. She’s very wise and people respect her. She’s not a gossip like some of the people in town.”

“How come she taught you to cook? Is she a teacher too?”

Niviene paused for a moment, her hands held still over the sink full of dirty dishes. She gave herself a mental shake then continued with the task, schooling her voice to neutrality, “I used to be married to her son.”

Korissa, perched on the stool beside her so she could reach the sink, nodded, “Noctifer Eva. He was Banny’s grandpa.” the girl rinsed dishes in silence for a moment then looked up quizzically, “If you married Banny’s grandpa that means you’re his grandma. But now you’re married to daddy so you’re his momma too.”

Niviene cast a wry glance at her daughter, “It’s complicated.”

Not overly concerned with the convoluted workings of adult relationships Korissa asked, “Was he a paladin like daddy?”

“No, he was a warlock.”

The girl paused, her eyes wide, her voice almost a whisper, “But warlocks are bad. You were married to a bad man momma.”

At this Niviene stopped and turned to the little girl, “I used to believe that too honey but Noctifer taught me that it just isn’t true. Warlocks are people, some are bad but others are good. Just like there are good and bad priests and paladins. What we do isn’t necessarily who we are. The world isn’t all black and white.”

Korissa gaped at her mother for a moment then burst into giggles, “Silly momma. Of course it isn’t.” she pointed out the window over the sink, “There’s all kinds of colors out there.”