Maybe his wife watched over him from Serena’s great fields, that Catli wasn’t going to demand he wait until he was further mended. The burns on his body, and the scorch marks in his veins from the backlash, had cooled to a faint, dull throb in the back of his awareness.
Alegan shuffled forward and looked in the bubbling pot as Catli moved away to fetch dishes. More hot cereal, bland beige, something close in flavor and texture to oats. Crockery clattered when Catli came back and Alegan finally stepped back as the other mage dipped a ladle into the thick concoction.
“What are those, anyway?” Alegan pointed at the red vessels sitting stacked on the sideboard Catli kept close to the stove. “They’re not quite the size of a standard bowl, but are larger than a cup.”
“This is a standard size
