Mori awoke to the late autumn sun shining through her window and onto her face. With a yawn, she opened one eye and then the other. Odd, she thought, why hadn’t Sahtra woken her up sooner? She pulled off her blanket and groggily walked towards her bedroom door. As soon as she opened it, her nostrils were flooded with the aromas of various herbs, spices, vegetables, and some sort of meat that had drifted their way upstairs. This had to be Sahtra’s doing, Mori was certain, what was he up to?

 

The young blood elf carefully tiptoed down the wooden stairs and entered the kitchen. Several pots bubbled vigorously on the stove, one smelling of cranberry, another of apples, and another whose scent she couldn’t quite make out. Perhaps she would lift the lid just a tiny bit and take a peek! Mori slowly reached for the steel pot and—

 

“Do not touch those, little one,” Sahtra’s voice came clearly from the backyard, “you will get to taste it all very soon.” The young necromancer frowned as she stepped back from the pots; the death knight had a knack for knowing when she was around even if she couldn’t see him. Mori wandered outside to find Sahtra had removed his shoulder armor and gloves and instead had tied an apron across his front as he stood at the grill. He poked at thick chunks of meat with his tongs and placed long strands of an herb Mori couldn’t identify on top. She stepped closer to him and peered at the mystery meat atop the grill.

 

“What are you cooking, Sahtra?” And why was he cooking, she wanted to ask. The death knight never ate food himself but often prepared decent meals for Mori. This display of culinary expertise was beyond anything she had seen from him before.

 

“This is lamb, little one,” he replied, “the taste is impeccable to begin with, but rosemary adds incredible aroma and depth of flavor.” He glanced down at Mori, who was still wearing her yellow pajamas patterned with baby green turtles. “Go change into something nicer,” Sahtra ordered, “and meet me at the dining table when you’re done.”

 

“Okay!” Mori ran back into the house and up the stairs, throwing her wardrobe wide open and placing her hands on her hips as she thought about what she should wear. But how could she figure that out when she didn’t know what the occasion was? It wasn’t Sahtra’s birthday – that was in the winter, and it wasn’t the Harvest Festival – that had been several months ago. Not wanting to be too under or overdressed, Mori finally settled on a simple purple dress (for almost all her dresses were purple) that looked nicer than her usual robe but was quite comfortable for moving around in. She quickly brushed her silver hair and ran back downstairs, eager to see what Sahtra had prepared.

 

And what a beautiful table it was! The rosemary lamb was carved into thin slices and dressed with a wonderful smelling sauce atop a fine platter. The roasted potatoes sat in a glass bowl, the steam still rising from the hot vegetable. Sahtra had also prepared a cranberry dressing, apple sauce, and – Mori’s favorite – spaghetti with a buttery cheese sauce.

 

“Oh my!” Mori exclaimed, her eyes widening as she took in all the sights, “I can’t wait to try everything!”

 

Sahtra had removed his apron and placed his missing armor back on. “I am certain you will find it all delicious, little one,” he spoke as he lit the green candles on the table, but you must tell me what you think regardless,” he winked.

 

“Yes, of course!” she nodded, climbing onto her chair, “But first, can you tell me what we’re celebrating? Why did you make all this food?”

 

Sahtra sat down and crossed his arms. “Today is a special holiday,” he began, “it is known as Pilgrim’s Bounty. Every year, adventurers all across Azeroth travel to their homes to eat dinner with their families and share what they are most thankful for.”

 

“I see! That makes sense—wait,” Mori put down her fork and looked Sahtra in the eye, “Did you say you eat dinner with…with your family? Does that mean…you’re my…father…now?”

 

The death knight said nothing but smirked, looking away from the young blood elf’s increasingly intensifying stare. He had been watching over and caring for her for much longer than she would ever realize.

 

“Yay! We’re a family!” Mori exclaimed with glee, a wide grin breaking out on her small face, “I have a family again!” She jumped out of her chair and walked up to Sahtra, grabbing his arm with her hands and holding tightly. “And you have a family, again, too!” The young blood elf began to sniffle, overcome with joyous relief, but she quickly blinked away the tears welling up in her eyes.

 

Mori still clung to the death knight’s arm as she looked up at him, her green eyes sparkling.

 

“What are you thankful for, Sahtra?”

 

“Oh, nothing special, really,” he replied, “a reason to keep fighting, a reason to keep living, and a wonderful daughter who brightens my days.” He affectionately ruffled her silver hair. “What about you, Mori?”

 

“That’s easy,” she answered, “I’m thankful for you!” She smiled widely, showing teeth. “I’m thankful for you when  you’re happy and also when you’re sad or angry or when I can’t tell what you are,” she rested her head on his upper arm, “I’m just thankful you’re here.”

 

Sahtra chuckled. “Now that we’ve shared what we are both thankful for,” he motioned at the food on the table, “it’s time for you to taste everything before it gets cold. Start with the lamb. Here, I’ll put some on your plate.”

 

“Oh right! I forgot about the food!” Mori hopped back onto her chair and poked at the piece of meat with her knife. “Hmm…” she frowned at the slice of lamb as she tried to cut off a small chunk to no avail.

 

“I’ve got it,” Sahtra rose from his chair and stood next to her as he sliced the meat, “be sure to chew thoroughly – it may be tougher than what you’re used to.” He sat back down and watched as she placed the small cube of grilled lamb in her mouth and pondered its flavor. A few moments later, she looked at him with wide eyes and smiled. “That was delicious, Sahtra! I’ve never had anything like it!”

 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it, little one,” the death knight smiled in return, “it was my favorite dish when I was still alive. Now, try everything else!” He began scooping some of the potatoes and apple sauce onto her plate.

 

“Aren’t you going to eat at all?” Mori looked at him quizzically, “Do I have to finish all of this by myself?”

 

Sahtra shook his head. “Food is not the same when you’re undead,” he replied, “but I still remember the flavors very clearly. I can almost taste the lamb just by looking at it!” The young blood elf nodded with a bit of gloom. It didn’t seem fair to her that he had cooked all the food but couldn’t participate in the meal. “Besides,” he continued, “you will have plenty of leftovers for the rest of the week. And, next year, you can try the cooking yourself.”

 

“Oh, yes!” Mori exclaimed, “I’d love that! But first,” she dug her fork into the roasted potatoes, “I’m going to try this!”

 

And they spent the rest of the day in good spirits, for there were few things on Azeroth better than food with family.