A soft morning light is filtering through the cabin's window. 

Nert stirs in his bed, the scent of sizzling meat wafting into the room, stirring him fully awake. 

He stretches, yawning, as the sound of clinking pans and knives becomes clearer. 

He gets up, rubbing his eyes, and heads toward the kitchen.

"Huh?"

In the kitchen, Jiighual is already up, busy cooking. 

The sight is almost comedic—Jiighual, the massive warrior known for his gluttony, is wearing an apron, his brow furrowed in concentration as he flips a thick, juicy steak on a skillet. 

A tower of cooked steaks already sits on a plate beside him, the savory aroma filling the air.

Nert leans against the doorframe, chuckling. 

He asks.

"Starting the day with a feast, Jiighual?" 

Jiighual glances back, a grin spreading across his face. 

"Ah, Nert! Morning! Couldn't sleep much. Thought I'd make use of the time. Want some?" 

He gestures to the pile of steaks with a spatula.

Nert steps closer, inspecting the array. 

"Did you plan to feed the entire village, or is this just breakfast for you?" 

Jiighual laughs, a deep, rumbling sound. 

"You know me. Always hungry. A warrior's got to keep his strength up. Besides," he says, flipping another steak with a practiced hand.

"Cooking helps me think."

Nert raises an eyebrow. 

"Think about what, exactly?"

Before Jiighual can respond, Gargeal's voice cuts in from the living room. 

"Is that steak I smell?" 

He looks up from a thick book he's been engrossed in, peering at the kitchen with an eager expression.

Jiighual smirks. 

"Morning, Master. You caught the scent, huh? Come on over. I made enough for everyone. Figured you'd both be hungry after yesterday's journey."

Gargeal chuckled, sliding into a seat at the kitchen table. 

"It's barely dawn, and you've already made enough food to feed a battalion. What's got you up so early?"

Jiighual hesitated, his hands momentarily pausing over the pan. 

He looked at the rows of steaks he'd cooked, a flicker of confusion in his eyes. 

"I don't know," he admitted. 

"I guess cooking helps me... clear my head."

Nert raised an eyebrow, pulling out a chair and sitting down. 

"Clear your head? Since when does the big glutton think so deeply?"

Jiighual didn't laugh this time. 

He glanced at the plate of food, almost as if seeing it for the first time. 

"I've been thinking a lot lately," he said quietly. 

"I eat, I fight, I cook... but it feels like no matter how much I consume, there's still this emptiness."

Gargeal exchanged a look with Nert, sensing the shift in Jiighual's mood. 

"It's part of who you are, right? The Warrior of Gluttony."

Jiighual shrugged, a frown tugging at his lips. 

"Maybe. But lately, I've been wondering if that's all there is to me. Just this... endless hunger. It's like I'm trying to fill a void, but I don't even know what's missing." 

He stared at the sizzling steak, the sound of it searing almost lost to him as he was deep in thought.

Nert took a bite of the steak, chewing thoughtfully before speaking. 

"So what do you think you're hungry for, if it's not just food?"

"I don't know," Jiighual confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. 

"I've been thinking about it a lot—about this constant need to consume, to fill myself with something. I used to think it was just my nature, a curse maybe. But what if it's more? What if it's pushing me towards something I can't figure out yet?"

Gargeal leaned back, crossing his arms. 

"Maybe it's not about the eating itself, but what it represents for you," he said thoughtfully. 

"You're always trying to consume, to take in more. Maybe you're searching for something bigger. A purpose?"

Jiighual sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"Or maybe I'm just lost," he muttered. 

"I thought becoming a Warrior of Gluttony would give me clarity, but instead, it's just made me more confused. I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever figure it out."

Nert watched him closely, the usually cheerful and insatiable Jiighual now looking more vulnerable than ever. 

"It's okay to be confused," Nert said quietly. 

"Sometimes, it takes time to find what you're really looking for. And maybe, it's not something you can just grab or eat or conquer. Maybe it's something you have to discover over time."

Jiighual gave a small, grateful smile. 

"Yeah, maybe you're right," he said, though his eyes still held that flicker of uncertainty. 

He turned back to the stove, flipping the last steak. 

"In the meantime, I guess I'll keep cooking. It's the one thing I know how to do right now."

Gargeal said, trying to lighten the mood. 

"Hey, if it means we get to eat steaks like this every morning, I'm not complaining."

Jiighual chuckled, though it was softer than his usual hearty laugh. 

"Thanks, you two," he said. 

"I don't say this often, but... it helps. Talking about it, I mean."

Nert reached out, giving Jiighual a reassuring pat on the back. 

"We're here for you, Jiighual. And whatever it is you're searching for, we'll help you find it. Even if it takes a hundred more steaks."

They shared a quiet laugh, the tension easing slightly. 

Jiighual served them the last of the food, and they ate together in companionable silence. 

The sun rose higher outside, casting warm light into the kitchen as the three warriors sat together, sharing a simple meal. 

For Jiighual, it was a fleeting moment of clarity—

A glimpse into the possibility that his hunger—

Might lead him somewhere more meaningful than he had ever imagined.

But as the laughter died down and the quiet settled in, Jiighual couldn't shake the feeling that there was still a long road ahead before he found what he was truly searching for. 

For now—

He could only take it one bite at a time—

Hoping that someday—

The answer would come to him.

△▼△▼△▼△

As the three warriors finished their meal, the kitchen was filled with the satisfying silence of full stomachs. 

The plates were empty, the last scraps of steak devoured. 

Nert wiped his mouth with a satisfied grin, pathhing his stomach, while Gargeal leaned back in his chair.

"That was incredible, Jiighual," Nert said, stretching his arms overhead. 

"I don't think I've ever had a breakfast quite like this."

"Agreed," Gargeal added.

"I might just get used to waking up to a feast every morning."

Jiighual smiled faintly but didn't respond, staring at the empty plate in front of him. 

The room felt heavier now—

A lingering silence that neither Nert nor Andhur could ignore. 

The usual energy in Jiighual's eyes seemed dimmed, as if he were miles away in his thoughts.

Nert and Andhur exchanged a glance, sensing the shift. 

They had seen Jiighual consume meal after meal with an unending appetite, but this was different. 

This wasn't the satisfied exhaustion of a well-fed warrior—

This was the look of a man searching for answers he couldn't find on his plate.

Nert stood up, pushing his chair back quietly. 

"Hey, Master," he said with a light tone, trying to ease the moment. 

"How about we take a walk? Let's go check out the village, give Jiighual some space to, uh, digest."

Gargeal caught on quickly, nodding as he rose to his feet. 

"Yeah, sounds like a good idea," he agreed. 

Nert glanced at Jiighual, offering him a gentle smile. 

"We'll be back in a bit. Take your time, Jiighual."

Jiighual looked up, a small flicker of gratitude in his eyes. 

"Thanks, you two," he said quietly. 

"I think I need a moment alone."

Nert gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder as he passed by. 

"We get it. We'll be out exploring for a bit. If you need anything, just holler."

With that, Nert and Andhur stepped out of the cabin, closing the door softly behind them. 

The morning air was crisp and fresh, a stark contrast to the heaviness inside. 

The two of them exchanged a glance before walking off, leaving Jiighual to his thoughts.

Inside the cabin, the silence pressed in around Jiighual. 

He took a deep breath, the aroma of cooked meat still lingering in the air. 

He looked down at his hands, still stained with grease, and let out a slow, shaky breath.

Alone now—

Jiighual's mask slipped away. 

He slumped into a chair, his elbows resting on the table, and buried his face in his hands. 

The emptiness he had felt earlier surged up again, crashing over him like a wave.

The food had filled his stomach—

But it had done nothing for the hollow ache in his chest.

"What am I even doing?" he muttered to himself, his voice muffled. 

He lifted his head, staring at the remnants of their breakfast. 

The satisfaction he once felt after a hearty meal was gone, replaced by a gnawing sense of doubt.

His thoughts spiraled as he replayed the past battles, the countless meals, the moments of fleeting joy. 

He had always been the Warrior of Gluttony—the one who could never be sated, whose appetite knew no bounds. 

But now, he wasn't sure what that even meant anymore. 

Was he just a vessel for endless consumption? 

Was that all there was to his existence?

Jiighual's fists clenched, his knuckles turning white. 

The idea that his entire purpose boiled down to an insatiable hunger felt suffocating. 

He had been content with that identity for years—thriving in the heat of battle, indulging in the spoils of victory. 

But now, it all felt meaningless. 

He wanted more—

But he didn't know what that "more" was.

He pushed away from the table, standing abruptly. 

He moved to the window, staring out at the village. 

The people of EmberWind Village were going about their morning routines—children running, villagers tending to their gardens, the distant sound of laughter reaching his ears. 

It was a simple, quiet life, far removed from the bloodshed and chaos of the battles he had fought.

Jiighual whispered, his breath fogging up the window. 

"What do I want?" 

He closed his eyes, leaning his forehead against the cool glass. 

For the first time in his life, the hunger he felt wasn't physical. 

It was deeper, gnawing at his very soul.

Memories of his past flooded his mind. 

The countless battles he had waged, the food he had devoured after each victory, the fleeting moments of satisfaction. 

But now, looking back, it all seemed so hollow. 

He realized he had been consuming not just food, but everything in his path—victories, moments, experiences—yet none of it had filled the void inside him.

Tears welled up in his eyes, surprising him. 

He hadn't cried in years, hadn't allowed himself to feel this vulnerable. 

But now, the weight of his uncertainty pressed down on him, and he couldn't hold it back any longer.

"What am I supposed to do?" he choked out, his voice breaking. 

"What do I even want from this life? Is there something beyond this... endless need?"

For a long moment, he stood there, letting the tears fall. 

He had been the Warrior of Gluttony for so long that he had lost sight of the man he once was, the man he could still become. 

The hunger had defined him, but maybe it didn't have to anymore.

Slowly, he wiped his eyes, taking a deep, shuddering breath. 

"Maybe..." he whispered to himself.

"Maybe it's time to stop consuming and start giving."

The thought startled him. 

It was a new feeling, an idea he had never considered. 

What if his role wasn't to take, but to give back? 

To use his strength, his knowledge, his skills not to fill his own void but to help others fill theirs?

Jiighual's gaze drifted back to the window, watching the villagers as they went about their day. 

He thought of Haerak, Aina, the Renaissance Band—his friends who had stood by his side, who had fought battles together, shared laughter and pain. 

Maybe this was the answer he had been searching for. 

Maybe this was the missing piece.

He let out a shaky laugh, a strange mix of relief and fear bubbling up inside him. 

"I don't know what this means yet," he admitted to himself. 

"But maybe, just maybe, it's a start."

For the first time in what felt like ages, Jiighual felt a glimmer of hope. 

It was small, almost imperceptible, but it was there—a spark in the darkness he had been lost in. 

He didn't have all the answers, and he knew the road ahead would be long and uncertain. 

But for the first time—

He felt a sense of purpose—

A purpose that went beyond his own desires.

Jiighual took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. 

He wasn't sure where this new path would lead him, but he was ready to find out.

And perhaps, in giving to others, he might finally discover what he had been searching for all along.

With a newfound resolve, he turned away from the window, a small but determined smile on his face. 

There was still much he didn't understand, but he felt lighter somehow, as if a burden had been lifted from his shoulders. 

He didn't need to figure it all out right now. 

For now, taking the first step was enough.

Just as Jiighual was turning away from the window, lost in the first inklings of a new purpose, he heard a soft knock at the door. 

He blinked, momentarily surprised, then wiped the lingering moisture from his eyes and made his way over.

When he opened it, he found Yzavynne and Leeani standing there, both with somewhat sheepish expressions. 

Yzavynne's gaze was sharp as ever, but there was a playful smirk tugging at her lips, while Leeani gave a small wave, her eyes drifting to the kitchen behind him.

"Hey, Jiighual," Yzavynne started, tilting her head slightly. 

"Got any food left?"

Leeani nodded in agreement, a hopeful glint in her eyes. 

"Yeah, we're starving. Figured if anyone had reserves, it would be you."

Jiighual chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. 

He couldn't help but feel a warmth spread through his chest at the familiar teasing. 

"I actually have a lot preserved. You know me—can't leave without stocking up," 

Jiighual asked, his brows furrowing in concern.

"But why are you two looking for food here? The village doesn't have enough supplies?" 

Yzavynne's smirk faded slightly as she exchanged a glance with Leeani. 

"We just got word from Captain," Yzavynne explained. 

"He was out speaking with some of the villagers. The situation here is pretty dire. They've been running low on resources—food, wood, you name it. Apparently, they've been struggling for a while."

"Fishes aren't coming in like they used to, and they've lost a lot of their livestock," Leeani added quietly, her expression tinged with worry. 

"It's why we came by... We thought you might have some spare food."

Jiighual's expression softened, a strange sense of understanding filling him. 

This was his moment—

The first real chance to give instead of take. 

He stepped aside, gesturing for them to come in. 

"Come inside. I'll cook you both something."

Yzavynne raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised by his offer. 

She teased lightly.

"You? Cooking for us? Did we enter an alternate reality or something?" 

Jiighual snorted, rolling his eyes playfully. 

"Yeah, yeah, make your jokes. But trust me, I've got plenty, and I want to share it. Besides, I need to practice my cooking skills."

Leeani laughed softly, her usual reserved demeanor melting away a bit as she stepped into the cabin. 

"Well, we won't say no to a meal," she said, glancing around the cozy space. 

"It smells good in here already."

Jiighual smiled at her and led them to the living room. 

"Take a seat. I'll whip something up real quick."

Jiighual moved to the kitchen with a sense of purpose he hadn't felt in a long time. 

He rummaged through his supplies, pulling out strips of dried meat, herbs, and a couple of vegetables he'd managed to forage during their travels. 

He worked quickly, slicing the vegetables and soaking the dried meat in a pot of water to rehydrate it.

Yzavynne leaned back on the couch, watching him curiously. 

She commented.

"You really have a stash of supplies, huh? It's like you're prepared for an apocalypse."

Jiighual shrugged, focusing on chopping the vegetables. 

"Old habits die hard," he said with a small smile. 

"Back in the hideout, I was always the one stocking up. Figured it would be the same out here, even if I didn't know what to expect."

Leeani glanced over at Yzavynne, her eyes softening. 

"He's always been like that, hasn't he? Planning for every situation, making sure he's never without," she said quietly.

Yzavynne nodded, a rare, fond smile on her lips. 

"Yeah. But I gotta say, this is new—Jiighual sharing his stash without us having to barter or beg."

Jiighual chuckled, stirring the pot. 

"You make me sound like a greedy merchant."

"You were," Yzavynne pointed out, smirking. 

"But it's good to see you like this, Jiighual. I'm glad you're choosing to share."

There was a beat of silence as the weight of her words settled in the room. 

Jiighual looked up from the pot, meeting Yzavynne's gaze. 

For once, there was no teasing in her eyes, just a quiet understanding.

Jiighual gave a small, almost shy smile. 

"Yeah. Me too."

As the stew simmered, the cabin was filled with the comforting aroma of cooked meat and herbs. 

The three of them sat together, the crackle of the fireplace providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation.

Leeani broke the silence first. 

"You know," she started, her voice soft.

"I never really understood why you always had this need to hoard food. I mean, I get it now—you were preparing, making sure we were all fed. But it always seemed like more than that."

Jiighual took a deep breath, his eyes fixed on the bubbling pot. 

"It was more than that," he admitted quietly. 

"It wasn't just about having enough food. It was about control. In a world where everything felt chaotic, where we were always on the move, fighting battles, and surviving one day at a time, food was something I could hold onto. It was something I could control."

Yzavynne nodded slowly, her expression thoughtful. 

"Makes sense," she said. 

"And now?"

Jiighual looked up, meeting her gaze. 

"Now... I think I'm ready to let go of that control a bit. I'm realizing that it's not just about what I can take, but what I can give. Maybe it's time I start giving back, especially to those who need it more."

Leeani's eyes softened, and she reached out, placing a gentle hand on Jiighual's arm. 

"That's a big step," she said quietly. 

"And I'm proud of you, Jiighual."

He felt a swell of emotion at her words, a lump forming in his throat. 

"Thanks, Leeani," he managed to say, his voice rough with emotion. 

He turned back to the stove, focusing on dishing out the stew to give himself a moment to compose.

When Jiighual finally set the bowls down in front of Yzavynne and Leeani, he felt a strange sense of contentment. 

It wasn't the usual satisfaction of a full stomach—

It was deeper—

More fulfilling. 

The two women took their first bites, their eyes lighting up at the rich, savory flavors.

"This is amazing," Leeani said, her smile bright. 

"You've outdone yourself, Jiighual."

Yzavynne nodded in agreement, her usual teasing expression replaced with genuine appreciation. 

"You really have. Thanks for this."

Jiighual gave a small smile, sitting down with his own bowl. 

"It's my pleasure," he said quietly. And for the first time, he meant it. 

The act of giving, of sharing something he had once hoarded so fiercely, filled him in a way he hadn't expected.

As they ate, the room was filled with easy conversation and laughter. 

It was a simple moment, but it was one Jiighual would carry with him. 

△▼△▼△▼△

As they finished the meal, Jiighual set down his empty bowl, letting out a content sigh. 

He glanced over at Yzavynne and Leeani, who were both leaning back, looking equally satisfied.

"That was fantastic," Yzavynne said, wiping her lips with a grin. 

"You're really getting good at this, Jiighual."

"Yeah," Leeani agreed, her eyes twinkling. 

"We don't doubt you when it comes to such talent for cooking."

Jiighual chuckled, scratching his head. 

He admitted. 

"Well, you two definitely helped me realize it tonight."

His expression then shifted, a flicker of concern crossing his face. 

"But now I'm thinking... what about the others? Andhur, Ruby, Captain, Qarek, Kazaks—they might not have had anything to eat."

Yzavynne exchanged a quick look with Leeani before responding, a hint of worry in her voice. 

"They don't have plenty, that's for sure. The village's supply is so low, and—"

Before she could finish, Jiighual interrupted, his voice firm with determination. 

"I'll cook for them. And not just them," he added, his eyes lighting up with a new resolve. 

"I'll cook for some of the villagers too. If they're lacking food, it's the least I can do."

Leeani's eyes widened in surprise, while Yzavynne blinked at him, clearly taken aback. 

"You're serious?" Yzavynne asked, leaning forward. 

"You'll cook for the entire village?"

Jiighual gave a decisive nod. 

"Yes. If I have the means, then why not use them for good?"

Yzavynne raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk forming on her lips. 

"Just how much food do you have stored away, Jiighual? Did you rob a merchant on the way here?"

Jiighual laughed, shaking his head. 

"No, but I've always made sure to stock up wherever we went. Let me show you."

He stood up, gesturing for them to follow him into the kitchen. 

The three of them moved together, and Jiighual led them to a large wooden chest against the wall. 

He opened it up to reveal an icebox, lined with carefully packed snow and chunks of ice he had collected along their journey.

"Wow," Leeani murmured, peering inside. 

"You've really thought of everything."

Jiighual gave a small, proud smile. 

"It's a technique I picked up from an old trader. If you pack snow and ice tightly and keep the lid closed most of the time, it preserves the food longer. It's not perfect, but it works well enough."

He began to pull out various items, laying them on the kitchen counter. 

There were several thick cuts of salted beef and pork, tightly wrapped in leaves to preserve their freshness. 

He had smoked fish, dried herbs, and spices in small pouches. 

There were root vegetables like potatoes and carrots, a bundle of fresh ginger, and even some leafy greens he had managed to keep cool.

"You've got meats, fishes, vegetables... even spices?" Yzavynne asked, her tone tinged with amazement. 

"Where did you get all of this?"

"I collected bits and pieces from every stop we made," Jiighual explained. 

"Some of it's from the hideout I stocked by myself, some I foraged myself. The smoked fish is from the river we passed before Aeolantis. The ginger and herbs I picked up from the forest before we met Haerak and Aina. And the salted beef? That's from a mountain we passed a few days back. I always make sure we have enough in case we hit hard times."

Leeani looked up at him, her expression a mix of admiration and surprise. 

"You really have thought this through. You've been preparing for something like this for a long time, haven't you?"

Jiighual gave a small nod, a contemplative look in his eyes. 

"Yeah. I guess I always knew there would come a time when we needed to be self-sufficient. I never expected to share it with a whole village, though."

Yzavynne let out a low whistle, shaking her head in disbelief. 

"You've got enough here to feed an army. And you're just going to give it away?"

Jiighual met her gaze, his expression serious. 

"Yes. I am. If this is what it takes to help these people, then so be it. I've spent so much of my life hoarding, thinking only about what I could take. It's time I learned to give back."

The kitchen was filled with the soft clinking of utensils as Jiighual set to work, pulling out ingredients and laying them out neatly on the counter. 

He moved with a practiced efficiency, slicing vegetables and seasoning the meats with a variety of spices. 

His hands were steady, and his focus was intense, like a true chef in his element.

Leeani watched him with a small smile, her eyes warm. 

"You really do have a knack for this," she said softly. 

"It's like you were meant to be a chef."

Jiighual chuckled, shaking his head. 

"Maybe in another life," he said with a smile. 

"But for now, I'll settle for feeding everyone and making sure no one goes hungry."

Yzavynne leaned against the counter, watching him with a thoughtful expression. 

"You know," she began slowly.

"You're different now. I've known you for a long time, Jiighual, and I can see that you're changing."

Jiighual paused, looking up at her. 

"Changing?"

Yzavynne nodded. 

"Yeah. The old Jiighual would have offered to share his food like this, but not too many. You would have hoarded it all for yourself, just in case. But now... now you're willing to give it all away to help others."

Jiighual's eyes softened, and he gave a small nod. 

"I guess I am. I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be the Warrior of Gluttony. It used to be all about taking, about satisfying my own needs. But I think I'm starting to realize that true strength, true gluttony, is about having so much that you can give it away. It's about abundance, not scarcity."

Leeani smiled, a light of understanding in her eyes. 

"That's a beautiful way of looking at it."

Jiighual turned back to the food, a small smile playing on his lips as he continued cooking.

"Maybe it is," he said softly. 

"Maybe it is."

The three of them worked together in the kitchen, Jiighual guiding Yzavynne and Leeani through the process of preparing the meal. 

It was a simple, yet fulfilling experience—

Sharing the act of cooking—

Of creating something together that would bring comfort to others.

△▼△▼△▼△

As the first batches of stew and grilled meats were ready, Jiighual set aside portions for Andhur, Ruby, Zach, Qarek, and Kazaks, packing them neatly into containers.

"These will go to our friends," he said, handing them over to Yzavynne. 

"Make sure they get enough. I'll finish up here and start preparing the food for the villagers."

Yzavynne took the containers with a nod, her expression warm. 

"Thank you, Jiighual. I know they'll appreciate this more than you know."

Leeani gave him a soft smile as well, her eyes shining with gratitude. 

"You're doing a good thing here."

Jiighual felt a lump form in his throat at their words, but he pushed it down, giving them a small smile in return. 

"Go on," he said, his voice rough with emotion. 

"I'll take care of the rest."

As Yzavynne and Leeani left the cabin to deliver the food, Jiighual stood alone in the kitchen, looking down at the remaining ingredients. 

He took a deep breath, a new sense of purpose filling him.

This was what he wanted—to give, to share, to be a source of strength for others. 

And in that moment—

He realized that he was no longer just the Warrior of Gluttony. 

He was something more.

═════ ◆ TO BE CONTINUED ◆ ═════