Deviled Eggs

The kitchen was unusually lively when I walked in, the chatter of recruits mixing with the rhythmic clatter of knives against cutting boards. The scent of butter and fresh herbs hung in the air, a welcome distraction from the storm raging inside my head.

I'd just seen something. A memory? A warning? It didn't make sense, but the weight of it clung to me like a shroud. My chest was heavy with guilt and dread I couldn't shake, no matter how much I tried to convince myself it wasn't mine to bear.

"Ellen!"

I turned toward the familiar voice as I stepped into the kitchen. Fulgur waved, his broad grin lighting up the room. Eren and Willhelm were already there, gathered around a table cluttered with ingredients. It had become routine for them to visit Eren here, their camaraderie a rare pocket of normalcy after the intense recruitment process.

"You're pale," Fulgur said as I approached, his grin fading into concern. "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Just a nightmare," I replied quickly, trying to sound casual.

Willhelm raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. "Nightmares don't usually leave someone looking like that."

"It's nothing," I insisted, avoiding their eyes. I could feel Eren's gaze linger on me, quiet and observant.

Out of the group, Eren was the one who knew there was more to my story. A few days ago, I'd accidentally confided in him during a moment of weakness. He hadn't pressed for details then, and he didn't now, but I could tell he wanted to.

I gave him a small, grateful smile, which he returned with a subtle nod before turning back to the vegetables he was chopping.

"Fine, fine," Fulgur said, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "Keep your secrets. But you owe us some good gossip next time."

Willhelm chuckled. "Or at least some extra help with the dishes."

Their lighthearted banter eased the tension in my chest, and I found myself relaxing as I settled into the familiar routine of preparing food with them. The room filled with the clatter of knives, the sizzle of butter on the stove, and the occasional burst of laughter.

Midway through peeling potatoes, a question bubbled up in my mind, one I'd been too hesitant to ask before. I glanced at the others, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Hey, is magic rare?"

The room went silent.

I looked up to find all three of them staring at me—Fulgur with wide eyes, Willhelm frowning in confusion, and Eren's expression unreadable.

"What?" I asked, feigning innocence.

Fulgur was the first to break the silence. "You're kidding, right?"

"I… don't think so?" I said hesitantly. "I mean, in my village, we didn't really talk about magic much. But I've read about it in books since I was a kid, so I just wanted to know."

Willhelm let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair. "Books? Where in the world did you find books on magic?"

"Libraries?" I offered weakly.

His frown deepened, and Fulgur exchanged a nervous glance with him.

Eren finally spoke, his voice calm but firm. "Magic is considered taboo."

"Taboo?" I echoed, genuinely surprised.

"Especially here," Willhelm said, his tone somber. "In the Empire, magic's been outlawed for generations. The late grandfather of the current emperor was assassinated by mages. Since then, anyone caught practicing magic is either exiled or executed."

My stomach sank at his words.

Eren nodded. "Magicians are rare in the Empire, but outside of it? It's a different story. Magic is everywhere in the world beyond our borders. Some nations even revere it."

Fulgur leaned forward, his expression serious for once. "But here? Just mentioning magic can get you into trouble. Be careful who you talk to about it, Ellen."

I nodded slowly, my mind racing. So magic really is forbidden here? That explained a lot—and raised even more questions.

The conversation shifted after that, the three of them moving on to lighter topics. But I couldn't shake the unease that had settled over me.

Eren caught my eye as he handed me a plate of deviled eggs, his expression softening. "If you ever want to talk, you know where to find me."

I nodded again, grateful for his quiet support. But as I looked down at the food in my hands, I couldn't help but wonder: How long could I keep my secrets buried in a world that seemed determined to uncover them?