"Take a look at this."
After saying goodbye to Murphy, Elina brought Luciel to her home. He hesitated to follow her at first, but she promised they'd return to the bakery every week to try out everything it had to offer.
"See? It looks just like mine," Elina said as she examined the stigma on Luciel's wrist. "That's how I knew. We're the same."
"So... other people have a mark like this too?"
Luciel had always thought that only he had this mark. If he were a normal kid, maybe he'd have been excited to conjure fire when no one else could. But for him, it only acted as another tool for survival. A beautiful fire he happened to have, that was it.
"People with that mark are called Resonators. It means... well, we're destined as humanity's soldiers. But it's a long story, so I'll explain as we go. You'll be able to understand more in time," Elina said, patting his soft white hair.
"What does this mark mean, really?" Luciel asked. He'd hidden this mark ever since that weird dream. A kid with a weird mark and wielded fire on top of it? That was the kind of thing that could have him killed. It was safer to stay invisible and remove any evidence pointing at him.
Elina smiled gently. "You needn't worry for now. I'll show you how to live with it. You just have to accept that power."
"Then what should I do now?"
"Don't you want to look at the house first? It'll be your new home," she said, leading him around the house.
"Home..." Luciel mumbled softly.
Elina's house was the definition of cozy, every corner overflowing with her stories and personality.
To the right of the living room, musical instruments filled one corner. Two guitars hung on the wall next to the old wooden piano. One guitar had its string popped.
Just beyond that, a perfect reading nook sat by the window—leather armchair, fluffy rug, warm blanket, scented candles, and a small bookshelf for finishing touches.
To the left, the walls were pulled out to make space for the wooden recessed shelves, each displaying items of different shapes and origins like a miniature museum. Luciel noticed the bakery boxes with distinct designs side by side on the second level, arranged like a little neighborhood.
"I poured all my heart and soul into this place. I'm proud of how everything turned out," Elina said warmly, her smile blooming. She treasured the idea of having a home to live in. Murphy had taught her that, and now she wanted to teach Luciel this too.
"Luciel, I suggest you start learning how to cook."
"Why?" Luciel asked, puzzled by the sudden request.
"Because..." Elina hesitated, averting her gaze as he cheeks flushed. "I... can't cook."
Luciel had no clue how to reply. He could only stare at her, his eyes dumbfounded.
"I built a full-fledged kitchen but couldn't even use it. I order take-out every day. It's to the point where the food delivery girl has become my close friend already," she rattled off her explanation, barely pausing for breath.
"Why don't you try learning yourself, then?"
"I can't!" Elina blurted, cheeks reddening further. She considered herself a competent woman, but somehow, cooking always defeated her.
"I've tried, I promise! I just can't get the hang of it. Anyway, I'm sure you have the talent for it."
It didn't sound bad for Luciel. Being able to cook meant eating delicious food from his own hands—and it was a way to repay Elina's kindness. He didn't outwardly show it on his face, but he was grateful that Elina had taken him in.
He'd always wondered what it would be like to have an ordinary life—the kind he saw through lit windows as he wandered the city at night.
"Okay. I'll learn it for you and myself," Luciel firmly said.
"Great! I'm looking forward to it."
Elina then led Luciel to the spacious kitchen, where moonlight glinted off spotless counters. This was the kitchen people dreamed of—a state-of-the-art stove, shelves of spices and shiny utensils lined the walls, yet everything looked more like decorations than anything.
Elina hovered by the doorway, cheeks pink. "All this, and I still can't make toast without nearly burning the place down," she admitted with a sheepish laugh.
She stepped aside, gesturing as if presenting a stage. "No pressure, okay? I just want you to experience new things. If it's too hard or you don't like it, that's perfectly fine. Take-out food is also delicious, you know?"
"No. I'll do it," he said, his voice showed determination.
Elina showed a gentle smile filled with a tenderness she rarely let herself feel nowadays. As a Resonator, death of comrades was common and inevitable. Her heart had turned to steel, her soul had become numb. It was a basic necessity.
Now with Luciel, she might have found a reason to come home with a smile. At twenty-four, she was more like a big sister than a mother, but the affection was real, and she didn't even know why.
She ruffled Luciel's hair, feeling that sense of unconditional love.
Luciel also shared her sentiment. He hadn't expected to form a connection like this. He'd planned on eating free cake before escaping when she wasn't aware.
However, after hearing her childhood stories on the way to her house, he decided to trust Elina. They'd essentially lived the same life, born in the slums and survived.
Besides, her head pats weren't too shabby...
"Don't give up halfway, okay? I'll buy ingredients for you to experiment with a bunch of recipes online. It's going to be fun. I can help as well if you want."
"I think it's best for you to stay away from the kitchen," Luciel said, his voice monotone.
"Why you little—!" Elina spluttered, momentarily speechless.
'This kid is going to be a problem,' she thought.
Luciel was the genius of geniuses. He'd awakened the Echoing Stigma, something that only appeared after sixteen years of age. Besides that, Luciel already had impressive control over his Echo Energy.
'He's aloof, blunt, and a prodigy. Luciel, please, don't turn into a heartless person.'
Elina sometimes overthought in the strangest ways. If she'd seen him turn those crazy men into ashes, she might have worried more. Luckily, she didn't witness the scene.
As Luciel averted his eyes, Elina flicked his earlobe as payback. "Be kind to people, okay? Don't joke around like that, or people might get angry."
"I'm serious, though..." Luciel stopped himself as he noticed the veins popping on her forehead. He felt a disaster befalling on him, so he decided to listen.
"Yes. Understood."
Elina sighed heavily before changing the subject. "So, what do you want to eat? I don't have anything in the fridge, so we'll have to do take-out tonight."
"Didn't we just eat?" Luciel still remembered the flavor of the delicious strawberry shortcake. A thought of it could fill him up for a whole day.
"That's like a light dessert. It's not a meal. People must eat three times a day to be healthy. Luciel, you, however—" she grabbed his shoulders—"must eat four times a day. It's mandatory."
"That much? I feel like my belly would explode."
"No. You have to be healthy! Look at you right now. You might be strong because of the Echoing Stigma, but you're still human. Until I see you get better, you're eating four meals a day. No exceptions."
"But then I'd have to cook four times a day," Luciel muttered, already imagining the workload.
"I said I would help already."
"No. I told you to stay away from—"
"Don't say it!" Elina grabbed his hair and tugged gently, red-faced with embarrassment.
After a few minutes, their playful struggle ended, both of their hair a mess.
"Okay. Choose which one you like."
"I like this one," Luciel said.
"Oh! Great pick. This bowl of noodles is Guizhong's specialty. The thick noodles covered with homemade chili sauce and stir-fried vegetables are amazing." Elina said, eyes sparkling, her mouth drooling as she described the food. "But you know what makes it more perfect?"
"What is it?"
"A side of deep-fried pork with sweet lemon sauce. It goes perfectly with the spicy noodles!"
"I see..."
She seemed to be very knowledgeable about food, yet couldn't cook to save her life. Was she cursed? Luciel was puzzled, but he decided not to push further, lest he incur her wrath.
"Order it. What're you waiting for? I'm hungry!"
'She's like a different person when talking about food...'
Just like that, ordering take-out every day became one of their first traditions. Luciel was also relieved that his workload had just gotten a little lighter.