They stepped into the kitchen, a low-ceilinged stone room lined with old cabinets and two wood-burning stoves. Steam hissed from a giant pot in the corner. And there she was, Nana. Stooped over a chopping board with a rusted cleaver in her hand, apron covered in flour and broth stains, her silver hair tied in a loose bun.
"You two finally decided to join the living?"
"Sorry, Nana."
"Sleep’s a luxury for folks who don’t need to chop vegetables."
She pointed the cleaver toward the counter.
"Get to it. And don’t you dare ss up the carrots again, Jiana."
"That was one ti!"
"One very mushy ti."
Johnquis grabbed the basket of potatoes. Jiana took the carrots. Side by side, they began peeling in silence, only the sound of the fire crackling and blades tapping the cutting board filling the room.
Jiana whispered,
"You think it’ll be stew again?"
"It’s always stew."
"Maybe soday we’ll get sothing fancy. Like roasted at. Or those spiced rice balls they talked about in the upper towns."
The chopping went on for nearly half an hour. Carrots, potatoes, onions, soft vegetables that had barely held together in the baskets were all peeled and tossed into the bubbling pot. Jiana wiped her forehead with her sleeve. Her hands were stained orange.
Johnquis stirred the stew slowly with the long-handled wooden ladle, careful not to spill. Nana hovered behind them, occasionally sniffing the pot, muttering to herself, adding a pinch of salt or dried herbs from the little tins she kept on the shelf.
The air in the kitchen ward with the scent of cooking broth.
"Not bad, still thin. But that’s not your fault. That’s the world’s."
She turned, walked over to a cabinet, and pulled out old tin bowls most dented, so slightly cracked. She handed six to Johnquis, six to Jiana.
"Serve it while it’s hot. And don’t give the big kids more than the little ones. You hear ?"
Both of them said at once.
"Yes, Nana."
They left the kitchen and walked back into the cathedral’s wide main hall.
The pews had been pushed aside long ago, replaced with a few makeshift tables and benches. The kids were already gathering, drawn by the sll. They ranged from toddlers barely able to hold spoons, to quiet-eyed boys and girls not much younger than Johnquis.
The youngest one, barely four, waddled over and tugged on Jiana’s sleeve.
He mumbled, eyes round.
"I’m hungwy."
"You’re always hungry."
Jiana teased, kneeling and handing him the first bowl.
Johnquis moved fast, careful not to spill as he handed out portions, starting with the smallest children first. The older ones, used to waiting, sat patiently, bowls in hand.
There wasn’t much at just scraps of dried jerky softened in the stew but the warmth was real. And the kids lit up once they had their bowls. Steam rose around the room. Chatter filled the space.
"Thank you, big brother!"
"Thanks, Jiana!"
Jiana sat cross-legged next to the smallest girl, helping her scoop up the carrots.
Johnquis leaned back against one of the old pillars and finally let himself smile. The ache in his arms and shoulders didn’t matter. The hunger didn’t matter.
This feeding the others, making sure they were safe, warm, and full this was what being the oldest ant.
He watched the younger ones eat. Their smiles were crooked, teeth missing, faces dirty but they were alive. Laughing. And for a mont, the world outside the cathedral didn’t exist.
Nana called from the back
"Eat now because who knows what tomorrow brings."
"Okay, Nana."
Johnquis counted the kids.
"One, two, three... nine... Twelve minus nine..."
Jiana told him,
"Three are missing again. Let guess, our little ghosts?"
Johnquis sighed.
"Of course it’s them."
They both knew exactly who. The sa trio of troublemakers always slipped away when food was ready, not out of rebellion but out of habit. A ga. A ritual. Hide and seek before every al, with Johnquis as the seeker.
He turned, cracking his knuckles, and raised his voice dramatically.
"Alright... little snacks. You sll that stew? That was bait."
A few of the younger kids squealed and giggled, even though they weren’t the targets.
Johnquis’s eyes narrowed as he stepped toward the darker side of the cathedral.
"The Eater is hungry. And he only eats children who don’t co to the table..."
He dragged his foot along the ground.
"Stomp... stomp... the hungry Eater hunts..."
He slipped behind one of the thick stone columns near the altar. The old cathedral had plenty of cracks, forgotten crawlspaces, and wooden nooks left over from the world before. He crouched, peeking beneath a warped floorboard near the organ.
"Not here..."
Then he tiptoed behind the prayer lectern, pull aside a tattered curtain.
"Aha!"
A small boy let out a scream and bolted, knocking over a pile of old hymnals. Johnquis gave chase with exaggerated, beast-like growls.
"Graaagh! Gotcha now!"
"Nooo! You can’t eat !"
Behind a row of broken benches, two more kids huddled in a blanket fort made of old pew cushions. Johnquis leapt over and landed, arms spread.
"All three in one nest! Jackpot!"
But the third kid darted from the side, laughing, and sprinted across the hall.
"I’m not food! You’ll have to catch first!"
Johnquis paused, panting dramatically.
"He escaped!"
Jiana called. She dropped the dishes with Nana and gave chase. Giggling,
"Leave it to ! Eater’s assistant activated!"
The last kid squealed and tried to climb a pile of collapsed chairs near the back door.
Jiana catch his ankle mid-climb and pulling him gently down.
"Nope! You’re stew now."
"Noooooo!"
The whole cathedral rang with laughter.
Johnquis marched them back in line like captured prisoners, each kid giggling and pretending to be terrified.
One of the little girls turned and whispered,
"Mr. Eater... will you really eat us?"
"Only if you don’t finish your food."
Jiana rolled her eyes.
"Stop scaring them."
He chuckled and ruffled the girl’s hair.
"Alright, alright."
All twelve kids were seated now, a few still giggling, others red-faced from running.
Jiana and Johnquis sat down too, and together with Nana, they all shared their food.
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