3.30. A Long-Awaited Introduction II (Patreon)

Author's note: As promised, here is the second part of the previous chapter.

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The next morning, Yuki was all smiles. They chattered on and on about the stories they’d shared with Tegen and what he’d said back. There were some things that were apparently private too, and the uekisheile apologized—genuinely feeling sad—for having to keep them secret, at least until such a point Tegen gave his permission to share them. Which was fine with me; I was curious, sure, but friends didn’t have to be open about every little detail of their lives.

If there was something dark and heavy in Tegen’s past, I was willing to help him carry the burden, but only when he was ready. That was what good friends did for each other.

It was going to be tricky keeping the information safe when Yuki and I merged consciousnesses, but we both had our own ways. For me, I tucked anything I didn’t want to share deep within my mind, or just didn’t think about it. Yuki did something similar by shuttling the information into a more disconnected portion of their intelligence. The strategy worked absolutely fine too, as evidenced by the whole secret let’s-protect-Eight-from-marriage-proposals thing that’d been revealed by Teila.

Anyway, amid all the chatter was also the news that Tegen’s meridians were healed. Yuki tried to pass it off as no big deal, but I sensed the pride swelling under their qi. Plus, there was the perpetually stunned expression on Tegen’s face that gave it away. Another ten days were needed to fix the areas where the grafts had come from, but he had access to his spell casting again.

He reluctantly handed Yuki to Mumu, so that her meridians could be healed to. The plan was that once was done, he’d go back into Tegen to see if they could increase his qi capacity and give him access to mana magic.

“How long until you’re done with Mumu?” I asked aloud.

The area affected is smaller, and the damage isn’t as bad. Five hours maximum.

I relayed Yuki’s estimate to the others, but Mumu apparently heard them directly. She looked just as dumbfounded as Tegen had.

She’s okay, though? I asked privately. Not freaked out about you inside her meridians?

More than a little freaked out, Yuki said, but being brave about it. Mostly, she’s reluctant to disappoint Kesa and Inleio by disregarding their advice. Our Mumu is... surprisingly careful. Her qi is bold and adventurous, but there’s a layer of—

I felt Yuki sifting through my memories, and a sense of frustration grew within them as their search turned up empty.

We don’t know the word for it, but there’s a combination of respect-adoration-gratitude underlying her interactions with her mentors.

We already knew that, didn’t we?

Feeling cheeky, Yuki replied, Which is why it was all right to share the information with you. That, and she said it was okay.

You asked?

We had to, in case we misunderstood the situation. We’ve learned our lesson about that. Overcommunicating is one of the pillars of a healthy, trusting relationship.

Yuki wasn’t wrong, but their words left me wondering. That had sounded like a quote, but I didn’t recall Helen or myself saying anything like it. My memories were the source for their understanding of human relationships, so where had the insight come from?

Dr. Samson Young. You read his article ‘10 Ways to Fix an Oof When You’re an Oaf.’

I have no idea what you’re talking about. Nothing about the author or article sounded familiar to me.

You were at the dentist waiting for a routine cleaning, Yuki said, excited, and there was a magazine—Loving Today. Dr. Young’s article was featured on the cover. We can recite it for you if you’d like. We had to dig for the text originally, but have it handy now.

Uh... maybe later. I wasn’t kidding, either. The article sounded interesting, but now wasn’t the best time—not when Mumu had such a perplexed-curious-constipated look on her face. None of my family had reacted like that. Maybe it was because Tegen and Mumu were sensitive to qi?

“How are you doing?” I asked her.

“The feeling is very strange, like there’s someone else with me in my skin.”

“Ah, that. You get used to it.”

“You would know,” Mumu said.

“My best advice is to relax, and enjoy Yuki’s company. They really are an expert at manipulating qi. Your hands are in... ah... good hands.” I grinned and wiggled my eyebrows, hamming it for the joke, but Mumu only offered a pained smile back.

Behind me, I heard Teila groan. “How are your jokes so terrible? It’s like you’re trying to can make them as bad as you can.”

Ikfael had idly been watching the morning’s proceedings, but here she had to comment: “He is always like this!”

And those were the reactions I’d been looking for. I turned to smile at the two of them. “It’s an art.”

“It’s a fart,” Haol said, “stinking up the room.”

What-what-what? The diaksh words for art and fart rhymed? How did I miss that? Argh, I’m such a dunce. And my duncity had ceded a brilliant pun to Haol when it should’ve been mine to spread it. Still, the joke boded well for Haol—he’d make a fine father one day. A man after my own fart, as it were.

Unfortunately, the diaksh for fart and heart didn’t rhyme, so the pun’s only audience was Yuki, who dutifully snickered. Meanwhile, I pretended to be shot in the heart by Haol’s barb, and dramatically fell to the ground, dying in long sequence of shakes and gasps.

That got an amused smile from Mumu, and the tension around her eyes eased.

Yuki’s qi blipped. Thank you, her qi’s flowing more smoothly now.

De nada, I said, pleased with myself.

After that, the hunters settled down: Mumu meditated in order to better focus on her qi, while the rest of us moved through the hunters’ stretching regimen, along with a couple of repetitions of our marital forms—the bare handed and knife ones since they didn’t take up too much space.

Even then, there was only room for one person to go at a time, so people critiqued and offered guidance when it wasn’t there turn. Interestingly, Ikfael participated in these exercises, although she had to use Knight Otter to demonstrate the martial forms.

Afterward, everyone except for Mumu sat in a circle to play bastalt, a game involving the tossing of a knife from hunter to hunter. There were two ‘tricks’ to bastalt: The first was that when it was your turn to toss the knife, you had to share an animal fact, which the person catching the knife had to repeat. Then, it was the person with the knife’s turn, and they had to state a different fact before tossing it to someone else. The choice of targets was up to the person with the knife, but most hunters—at least those in Voorhei—generally kept things moving around evenly.

The second trick to bastalt was that knife’s edge was always keen, even if you were a brand-spanking-new apprentice and it was your first time playing. That was what made the game at once terrifying and exciting.

I simultaneously looked forward to playing and dreaded it too, so much so that I sometimes wondered if I’d turned into an adrenaline junkie after arriving in this world. I’d grown accustomed to the thrill of danger.

Partway through the game, there came a knock on the door. As Ikfael handily caught the knife out of the air using a water pseudopod, Miri poked her head inside to let us know the cooks had made us a special meal.

The hunters brought in a pot of chocohoytes in a creamy broth. No squab, though; the cooks had made it with chicken. Well, whatever, the soup was delicious—spiced more lightly than I would’ve preferred, but a solid effort.

I went downstairs afterward to make sure Agath and Moon had gotten some, and it looked like the whole dining room was enjoying the soup for lunch.

An innkeeper came over to ask if I wanted to use of the kitchen again for another dinner for Ikfael. His wry smile made it clear the offer wasn’t entirely selfless, but I agreed anyway—on the condition we’d get our room free of charge for the rest of our stay. After all, they had the honor of hosting a spirit of the land... and they’d get to watch me cook every night.

His smile turned even more wry, but it held and he agreed. So, I went to the kitchen to see what they had in stock.

There was a shoulder of something about the size of a horse. The cooks explained that it came from a guatoon, a big lizard with sharp teeth and two tails. I’d never seen one before, and was fascinated by how marbled the meat was. I shaved off a thin section, and it tasted mild and a little lemony.

Hmm... it’d make a good chicken-fried steak, except I didn’t have access to wheat flour. My go-to substitute was barley, which was imported from the nathlein in the north. It’d add a sweet-nut like flavor to the dish. And if that was the case, then I could make fried guatoon and waffles.

There was no vanilla for the waffles, but maple sugar would serve instead. I’d add maple syrup on top too for a decadent mix of crunchy, soft, salty, sweet. Throwing in some chili pepper for heat, the dish would have it all.

As soon as I described what I wanted, the cooks got the appeal right away. The people of Diaksha weren’t stupid—they knew how to put good food together. My only advantage was that my world had had more time to experiment with ingredients and techniques.

The cooks were stiff at first, not used to working with a kid as an equal, but they eventually loosened up. We experimented together to get the proportions right, and after a handful of test dishes, we had the recipe good enough to serve. It’d be pricy because of the barley flour and maple, but the innkeepers were willing. The chocohoytes had apparently gone over well; people were talking about them.

###

That afternoon, Yuki finished patching up Mumu’s meridians, and she left for the lodge to consult with the grandmaster. Aslishtei had dropped a couple of bombs the night before, and we needed confirmation the land knight was trying the Voorhei Hunter’s Lodge in absentia.

Mumu was combat capable again, but took Dura and Miri with her as guards, just in case. We briefly considered having her take Yuki too, but caution won out in the end. Silasenei’s eyes were keen, and there was a chance Aslishtei’s Little Red was surveilling us from some hidden vantage.

As for the rest of us, we rented one of the inn’s big rooms to practice our spear forms. It was a ridiculous expense given that the Butchery was just a short walk away, but we were in the unenviable position of having to be careful of assassins while also feeling stir crazy.

The only one not training was Tegen. He sat in the corner, with his eyes closed and an intense look of concentration on his face. A portion of Yuki was inside him, and occassionally there’d come the scent of their un-aspected mana.

###

The meal that night was fried guatoon steak with waffles and maple syrup. The cooks beamed as the dinner crowd buzzed in delight. Upstairs, Ikfael’s reaction was even more pronounced—she shivered at the first bite and her eyes rolled up in pleasure. Then, she visibly fought to eat at a moderate pace, so that she could enjoy every single bite.

Afterward, she sent me downstairs for more, and I retrieved two additional plates of the guatoon and waffle, which she promptly stored in her pocket. I would’ve gotten even more, but they’d already sold out by then. The cooks apologized profusely, and insisted on coming with me upstairs.

Ikfael had to bring out Knight Otter to receive them, as well as their promise to make more tomorrow. They also expressed their immense gratitude to her for sharing the recipe with them. They’d heard from Voorhei’s hunters about how much Ikfael appreciated good food, but the level of expertise she’d demonstrated was beyond their expectations. They hoped to be able to visit her again to learn more recipes from her.

So yeah, they thought it was Ikfael telling me what to cook and how, and I was just passing the information along to them. She’d gotten the credit for both the chocohoytes and fried guatoon and waffles. That stung a bit, but I squashed the feeling. It was probably for the best, and who knew... maybe they’d one day make a deal with Ikfael. That’d be reward enough for me.

###

Mumu didn’t come back until three in the morning. The news wasn’t good.