You stir in bed, your body twisting, tightening, and curling as your mind floods with horrific nightmares, soon to be made real thanks to The Holy Grail war you’re expected to participate in. Yet as your mind further sinks, predicting and making up outcomes, you feel your mind be alleviated by the force pressure of fear, as the comforting, imagined touch of Archer, your servant, wraps around you, and just before you can register the thought properly, you wake up to the sound of a sizzling pan in the other room.

Archer continues with her cooking, wearing a simple pair of skinny jeans, and a dark grey shirt with rolled up sleeves, adorned with a black apron. She continues with the recipe she is preparing, a middle eastern dish that you once had in your once favourite restaurant that was relocated far away. It was a fire roasted chicken, heavily seasoned in Za’atar, and a side dish of hummus. She stares down at the food she had prepared, her eyes gleaming behind long white eyelashes, and long white hair.

“I think some Pita would go nicely with the hummus.”

She turns to behind herself, grabbing a bag of Pitas from the counter and taking out a couple of them, carefully placing them into the oven on a tray.

You slowly pull yourself out of bed, the smell of the fire roasted chicken being too strong for your appetite to allow itself to stay in bed. Dragging yourself through your bedroom, living room, and eventually finding the kitchen, you find Archer, standing tall, her broad shoulders intimidating, yet her posture and demeanour was so gentle and captivating.

“Oh? Master, you’re awake. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you so early.”

She looks towards you and bows her head slightly.