The whole day, from afternoon to night, was spent cleaning the temple and making as many repairs as possible. Tristan, with sweat on his forehead, lay on his back, gazing up at the temple ceiling.
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"Dang, today was a long day," he muttered, taking deep breaths.
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"Tristan," Loraura's voice called from outside.
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Tristan lifted his head slightly as he heard her voice. "I'm in here," he replied, resting his head on the wooden floor.
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The temple door slowly opened as Loraura entered. "Tristan, are you okay?" she asked, concerned.
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"Yeah, just resting," Tristan replied with a smile.
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Loraura knelt down next to him. "You know, I used to sit in this temple for hours, just meditating, trying to concentrate on my inner self. I think that's what my dad used to say. Not like I understood what any of that meant."
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Loraura brought her right hand up to her chest and closed her eyes. "I understand," she said softly. "Up in the Unfettered lands, I would sit in glorious white temples, trying to open myself up to the outer void that makes up existence."
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"Uh huh," Tristan responded, not quite grasping her words.
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"I suppose such trials are an important part of life." Loraura said.
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"Yeah," Tristan agreed with an awkward smile. "I guess it is."
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Tristan rose to sit up straight. "Well, I think we've finished everything we can do today," he said, standing up. "How about we cook up some grub?"
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"Grub?" Loraura asked in confusion.
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"Yeah, you know, food," Tristan clarified.
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"Oh, I see," Loraura said, her excitement evident as she stood up. "I would love to see human cooking," she exclaimed, clasping her hands together.
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"Sure, how about you help me in the kitchen?" Tristan suggested as they both walked out of the large temple room and into the dining area.
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Tristan opened the fridge and took out some uncooked chicken. "I'm happy I went to the store today," he remarked with a smile.
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As Tristan began to wash the chicken, he noticed Loraura watching him with curiosity. "So, have you ever cooked before?" he asked while still preparing the food.
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"I haven't," Loraura replied, shaking her head. "Gods don't need to eat," she explained. "There are some who practice the art, but not a lot."
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"Not needing to eat, huh?" Tristan mused as he cut the chicken.
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"Not at all," Loraura replied. "I wouldn't mind feeling what humans feel, seeing what humans see, doing what humans do."
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"Would you?" Tristan asked.
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"Oh, yes," Loraura affirmed. "Living in your world, even for a day, would be an honor."
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Tristan's cheeks turned bright red as he smiled. "You want to live in our world, huh?" he thought to himself as he continued cooking. "I feel the same," he realized.
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Tristan and Loraura stood side by side, cooking, talking, and laughing together. For a moment, in both of their eyes and minds, they were like a family.
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That night, they sat together on the wooden floor, their food resting on a small wooden table that barely came up off the floor.
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"Loraura, please eat," Tristan urged, noticing how she wasn't touching her food.
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Loraura looked down at the chicken, almost as if she could see right through it. She slowly picked up a silver fork and lifted a small piece of chicken to her face.
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Watching Tristan eat, she was truly curious. Could such a small substance be fulfilling? Slowly, she pushed the piece of meat into her mouth and began to chew.
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Tristan paid close attention to Loraura, almost laughing at how careful she was being. He watched as she savored the taste, her curious face transforming into one of joy.
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"Delicious," she exclaimed, continuing to eat, her elegance never fading as she enjoyed her meal.
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Tristan smiled as he continued his own food. "Glad you enjoyed it," he said.
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Sitting on the porch while Loraura did the dishes, Tristan gazed up at the stars, relishing the feel of the night air on his face. He didn't know how any of this would work out for him in the end—Loraura, his new home, his life as a whole—but he was sure of one thing: he wouldn't figure it out today.
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Getting up, Tristan walked into the kitchen. "Loraura, I'm going to bed," he announced with a small yawn.
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"Good night," Loraura responded, approaching Tristan as she washed her hands with a small cloth.
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"Good night," he said with a smile. "We have a busy day tomorrow, so try to get some rest." With that, Tristan walked further into the temple, heading towards his bedroom.
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Loraura heard Tristan's door close behind her as she walked outside the temple. With a smile, she looked up at the starry night sky. "It's been a whole day since I've been home," she murmured. "I wonder how everyone is doing."
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Turning towards the temple, her eyes scanned the damage that was not yet repaired. "Shall I turn back the clock?" Loraura pondered, bringing her hands together. "Let the convent of time be broken here in this place."
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"I CALL TO THE FIRST FATHER, I CALL TO THE PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE ONE," she chanted, extending her hand. "EXTEND YOUR EVER-ENCOMPASSING HAND AND BRING FORTH THIS DESOLATE PLACE'S FORMER BEAUTY."
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Loraura's body began to glow with a white light as thunder erupted through the cloudless night sky. The temple, as if on rewind, began to move. The broken tiles on the roof repaired themselves, the overgrown weeds on the ground disappeared, and the cracks on the temple walls began to mend. Seconds passed, and soon minutes, until the temple that was once wrecked looked brand new.
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"I give my thanks," Loraura said, bringing her hands together in gratitude.
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Loraura walked towards the renewed temple, feeling a sense of anticipation for the next day to come. As she stepped across the threshold, she felt a surge of optimism, ready to face whatever the future held in store.
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"Home sweet home," Loraura whispered softly as she knelt down on her knees, feeling a sense of peace and contentment wash over her. With a serene smile, she closed her eyes and waited patiently for the coming morning.
***
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Author notes: Please support my work on Patreon for early access to new chapters. https://patreon.com/DarkMatteromniverse
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