3.15 (1/2)

Erin Solstice carefully flipped a fish on the frying pan she was holding over the fire. She watched the one golden-brown side of the fish turn over and land neatly on the oily surface of the pan. Instantly, the uncooked side began to sizzle.

“Mm. Fish.”

That was all she said for a while. There was nothing else that needed to be said. She just inhaled and smelled the fillet as it cooked. When it was done, she had a plate ready. She slid the still-juicy, crispy-golden fillet off the pan and looked at it.

It was a bit of perfection, at least for her. Back home, she’d never made anything nearly as good as this, not even close. The old Erin wouldn’t even have known where to begin, let alone mix up the batter that gave the fish such a nice, spicy taste.

And indeed, this fillet could have probably won her an award if she’d entered it in a local cooking competition. Erin knew it certainly could have gotten her a job at a local restaurant.

And it was all because she had a Skill. Erin stared at the fillet as it gently steamed on her pan. It really was a wonderful bit of food she’d created.

But.

Erin turned with the plate in her hands, and then dumped the fillet she’d just fried to perfection onto a cutting board. She diced the fillet in a few seconds with a cooking knife, and then shoved the remains into another pot.

This pot contained soup. To be more accurate, it contained blue soup, thick as molasses, with bits of green and some kind of yellow substance that looked like mutated pond scum bubbling to the surface. Erin mixed in what had been the wonderful fillet and sighed.

“It looks awful. But I think it will work.”

Compared to the fillet the soup looked about as appetizing as dirt. Undeterred, Erin poured some into a wooden bowl. Carefully, she took it out of the small kitchen and into the shop. There she stopped and called out.

“Octavia? I’ve got more soup for you to try!”

No one replied to her voice. Erin frowned and looked around. Octavia’s small shop, Stitchworks, was fairly big, but it felt cramped because of all the shelves full of potions and alchemy reagents stockpiled everywhere. Thus, she quickly found the dark-skinned girl with braids hiding under one of the tables.

“There you are! Come out and try the soup!”

“I’m not going to. You can’t make me!”

Octavia refused to budge, even when Erin put down the bowl of soup and poked her a few times in the side.

“Come on out. I promise it’s not going to be that bad this time.”

“I don’t want to. You eat it!”

Erin put her hands on her hips and sighed.

“You’re the one with all the Skills that prevent you from being poisoned or dying, remember? And I don’t have a detachable stomach.”

“Just because I can eat it, doesn’t mean it tastes good! And I still feel the effects of what I eat! I was squatting over the toilet for hours after that last soup you made!”

“Aw, come on. You weren’t there that long…this time will be different, I promise! I didn’t add anything dangerous to the food this time.”

“No! Eat it yourself if you’re so confident!”

The girl hesitated, and stared at the bowl of soup on the table. It was probably safe. Her [Dangersense] wasn’t going off, at any rate. But she didn’t want to taste it, even so.

“Octavia…”

“No!”

“I’ll pay you.”

There was silence. Octavia slowly poked her head out from underneath the table.

“How much?”

“Four silver coins?”

“Hah!”

The head withdrew. Erin thought quickly.

“Fine! Two gold coins! If it makes you sick or does anything bad to you. Deal?”

“Deal!”

Octavia was out from underneath the table in a second. Erin sighed, but there was something gratifying about how easy it was to just pay Octavia to do things. The Stitch Girl had a refreshingly simple way of looking at the world. If it was profitable, it was probably worth doing.

Even if the it in question involved eating another one of Erin’s soups. But then, Ryoka had paid Octavia quite handsomely to help Erin, so in that sense, Octavia was actually earning more for just doing her job.

Then again, even Erin had to admit she’d been feeding Octavia a lot of horrible stuff over the last few days. She would have actually volunteered to eat some of it herself, but without Octavia’s Skills that helped protect her against acid, burns, poisoning, and other nasty effects, the [Alchemist] would have been dead from eating some of what Erin had cooked up.

Instead, she’d just gotten horribly, sometimes violently, ill. Which explained her reluctance to sample any more of Erin’s experiments. However, Octavia loved gold even more than her health, so she didn’t look that put out as she stretched and looked at Erin.

“Alright. What horror am I supposed to be eating this time?”

Erin beamed as she showed Octavia the bowl. To her credit, the Stitch Girl didn’t even blink at the appearance of the soup. She sniffed at it cautiously as the human girl explained.

“It’s a variant of the last stew I made. This time I think it’s all mixed correctly.”

“Hmf.”

Octavia sniffed disparagingly; her nature as an [Alchemist] made her look down on all of what she called Erin’s ‘abominations of cooking and magic’.

“You found a way to stop the Stonelizard scales from mixing with the lemon juice and melting?”

Erin hesitated.

“I…think so. I kept the heat low and made sure to add a lot of mint. The soup hasn’t melted through the bottom of the bowl, so it probably worked.”

Octavia sighed. But she obediently picked up a spoon and gingerly spooned some of the blue glop into her mouth. She chewed a bit and swallowed as Erin held her breath—then Octavia made a face.

“It’s all mushy!”

“Eat!”

The girl did so, albeit reluctantly. Erin stared at the stitching around Octavia’s neck as the Stitch Girl slowly consumed the bowl of soup. It still seemed weird to her that Octavia was actually just cloth held together by string. Shouldn’t some of the soup leak out around the stitches, no matter how tightly it was sewn? But apparently, once Octavia’s cloth parts were connected, they acted like real flesh and blood.

The sound of the spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl made Erin look at Octavia sharply. The [Alchemist] sighed in relief as she put the spoon down and looked up at Erin.

“…Huh. It tasted pretty foul. Way too minty, and was that fish in there?”

Erin nodded, smiling.

“The pan frying and batter did the trick. The fish helped warm the soup without making it burn like last time.”

“Smart, I guess.”

Octavia looked grudgingly impressed. One of the biggest challenges Erin had had to overcome was the issue of heat. Octavia could regulate the temperature of her potions with ice and flame, but Erin had less options when it came to cooking. Just making the soup bubble in some cases could lead to dramatic—and dangerous—reactions.

“I think it might have worked.”

The [Alchemist] said this after a few minutes. She prodded at her stomach. Erin felt surprised, and immediately happy.

“You’re sure?”

“Pretty much. One of my Skills would have kicked in by now and I’d definitely be feeling the effects if anything harmful was in the soup. The only thing to test now is whether the effects were reproduced.”

“Oh. How are you going to test it? I could hit you—”

“No, thank you. I’ll use a pin instead.”

So saying, Octavia went up to her counter and rummaged around below it. She came up with a small box of pins, some scissors, and quite a few spools of thread. Erin guessed that was the equivalent of a first aid kit for Octavia.

“Alright, here goes.”

Octavia pulled out a rather long and sharp pin out of the box and extended her arm. Erin expected her to lightly poke at her flesh, so she was shocked when Octavia took the pin and pressed it straight into the center of her arm.

“Oh! Ow!”

“Hrgh.”

It looked as bad as it must have felt. The innkeeper winced as Octavia pushed the pin into her skin with all her strength, grimacing with pain as she did. Erin held her breath—it was almost hard to watch, but she had to know if the soup had worked.

“Well, would you look at that?”

Octavia’s grimaced expression changed to one of amazement. The Stitch Girl held up the pin, and Erin felt a jolt of elation in her stomach as she saw the pin was bent.

“It worked!”

“It did.”

Erin threw up her hands and shouted in delight. Octavia just stared down at the pin, blinking as if she couldn’t believe it. Once Erin had calmed down—she couldn’t really run around waving her arms in the shop without knocking over something delicate—she and Octavia sat together and discussed Erin’s latest creation.

“It really works, doesn’t it! Your skin is tougher—although it still hurt when you poked yourself with the pin, didn’t it?”

“A bit. I was more ready for the pain than anything else.”

Octavia studied the pot of blue sludge and Erin’s scrawled notes, shaking her head.

“This is—insane. It’s definitely a magical effect like you’d get from a potion, but how are you coming up with this stuff? First the strength stew and the Corusdeer soup that warms you up—now this?”

Erin beamed as she circled the particular combination of ingredients that had worked on the grubby piece of parchment.

“I’m on a roll. And you said it couldn’t be done!”

“I was wrong, clearly. That’s my mistake. Why does everything have to be a soup, though?”

Erin shrugged.

“Soup is easiest. I’ve tried batters, but I need to get all the ingredients right before I can use them. Now that I know the ingredients for this soup for instance—I could probably make a stir-fry or something out of it!”

“Huh.”

Octavia fell silent, drumming her fingers on the kitchen counter. Erin stopped and stared at the other girl.

It had been nearly a full day since Ryoka had run out of the city. It had been even longer since Erin had come to Celum—nearly a full week, in fact. And all that time she’d been splitting her time between Miss Agnes’ inn, the Frenzied Hare, and Octavia’s shop, Stitchworks. As a result, Erin was not only financially sound for the moment—Agnes had told her she was earning more in a week than she and her husband normally did in a month—but she’d managed to come up with some amazing new discoveries in Octavia’s shop!

Erin had been trying to cook with alchemical ingredients to create foods just as amazing as the soup she’d come up with that Ryoka kept using. And she’d made progress. Amazing progress, even Octavia had agreed. It was just that…

Some of Erin’s elation faded away as she stared at the soup in the pot. It had taken her nearly a hundred tries to mix this up, costing countless gold coins’ worth of ingredients. That wasn’t the issue, though.

Octavia didn’t seem to notice Erin’s feelings. She idly poked the pin into her hand as she stared at the soup.

“You know, if you want to try making the soup into an actual dish I wouldn’t mind trying it again.”

“Maybe later. I want to try and finish the other dishes, though.”

“More?”

The Stitch Girl frowned at Erin.

“How many more times are you going to come over and take over my shop? I do need to make potions myself, you know.”

Erin nodded absently.

“Yeah, but Ryoka bought out your time.”

“She did, but…”

Octavia waved her hands in the air, trying to express her displeasure.

“It’s been—how long? Nearly a week?”

“Something like that.”

Erin helped herself to her own bowl of soup now that she knew it probably wouldn’t kill her. She made a face as she tasted the horrible dish she’d made—the mint really was too powerful, but it was sour as well! She’d have to find some other way to combine all the ingredients—blend the mint into the fillet batter and keep the lemon juice out of it until the very end, or something.

But the dish was edible. Octavia shook her head as she stared at the small pot of soup Erin had brewed up.

“How am I supposed to deal with this? You’ve just created—what? A Thickskin potion? But you’ve used way less reagents than I usually do.”

“Mhm.”

Octavia glared at Erin, incensed by the bland response.

“Don’t you know how incredible that is? If you could do that with every potion I’ve made—just think of the savings! This is amazing! Revolutionary!”

“Yup. This really tastes bad.”

Erin made a face and Octavia made a sound of disgust.

“Well, I’ll admit that you have some skill at this. But—and I’m asking again—how many more times are you going to use my kitchen and store?”

“Ten thousand times.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ten thousand times. That’s how many times I’m going to cook. If I can, that is.”

Erin suddenly felt very tired as she turned to Octavia. The dark-skinned girl’s mouth was open in shock, but her eyes were flittering left to right in sudden calculation.

“If you did that, I’d have to at least charge you—”

“I’m not being serious! Jeez!”

The Human girl scowled at Octavia. Octavia scowled back.

“You could have fooled me! I’m just giving you a price quote. Why ten thousand times, anyways?”

Erin sighed. But she felt like explaining, so she took a seat and spoke to Octavia between spoonfuls of the horrid soup.

“Back where I come from—there’s this guy who said that the best way to get good at something was to do it ten thousand times. Or something like that.”

Wasn’t it ten thousand hours spent practicing? Erin couldn’t actually remember that well.

“Anyways, the idea is that if you want to learn how to do something well—really well, I mean, you have to practice that much. You can be as talented as you want, but in the end you still need to practice.”

“Oh. So that’s why you’re trying to make all this stuff?”

“Sort of.”

Erin nodded, stretching her neck out a bit and wincing at the cracks. How long had she been cooking today? Already three hours, probably.

“I have a Skill—[Advanced Cooking]. It lets me cook really well without practice. But lots of people have that Skill. I’m an [Innkeeper], but there are a lot of people with higher levels than me, I bet. They have better inns, more Skills…I want to match them, somehow. So I decided to try to learn something new—even if this is boring.”

“Boring?”

“Boring. I think making all this alchemical stuff is boring. I know you don’t—”

Octavia’s outraged glare was proof enough of her feelings. Erin just shook her head tiredly.

“—But I don’t like wasting food, and making all this complex stuff. But it’s all that I can do.”

The other girl paused before she could give Erin a tongue-lashing.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not like Ryoka. She can run around and do cool things—she’s even got Ivolethe as a friend.”

“Who?”

Erin ignored the question. She stared at the mostly empty bowl of soup and took another bite. It tasted awful. But it was magic.

“I can’t be a hero. I don’t like fighting, and I’m scared of getting eaten. Or stabbed. Or stabbed and eaten. All I can do is try and make my inn better. And if I had something magical to sell to my guests—no one would be able to copy that. That would make my inn unique. That’s why I’m doing all this.”

Even if it was hard. Even if it was exhausting. This was her big chance; Erin knew that. She raised her head and saw Octavia’s face. The girl didn’t look irate like she normally did around Erin. Instead, she looked impressed.

“That’s actually quite thoughtful for you.”

“Surprising, right?”

Octavia had to grin. Her teeth flashed in her dimly lit shop. Then she looked back at the bowl in Erin’s hands and her eyes narrowed in a calculating look that made Erin groan internally.

“You know—not that I’m trying to renegotiate the deal Ryoka made with me or anything—but you have benefited a lot from the recipes I’ve come up with. If you’d consider selling me them, I’d cut you in on a deal. In fact, why not let me sell them to other inns and taverns? Why, you’d earn a lot more if everyone was making this stuff and not just you. I’d only ask for a small commission on each sale—and I’m sure that the profits alone would—”

“It’s not going to work, Octavia.”

“You don’t know that! If you’d just listen to the rest of my idea—”

Erin shook her head, cutting the other girl off. She handed the recipe of the soup she’d just made to Octavia.

“Try making it yourself.”

The [Alchemist] was surprised, but she wasn’t one to turn down an opportunity to make something useful—and, Erin suspected, memorize the recipe. But although Octavia eagerly piled the ingredients into another pot and followed all of Erin’s instructions to the letter, her hands quickly slowed down as she frowned at the floating objects in the water of the pot.

“What’s happening? It—it’s not even reacting. It’s just sitting there. Like…”

“Like nothing happening?”

Erin nodded and took the spoon from Octavia. As she began to stir, the soup began to change. Octavia’s eyes widened as she stared at the way the individual ingredients suddenly began to dissolve, mixing together.

“How are you doing that? A Skill?”

“Yup. It’s my Skill. Without it, no one else can make this stuff.”

Erin watched as the mixture slowly thickened, and continued following her instructions, although she knew how to make the soup by heart. She explained to Octavia as she reached for a glass of lemon juice she’d painstakingly squeezed earlier.

“I tried to show Agnes how to make the Corusdeer soup. She couldn’t do it, even when she copied me exactly.”

“What skill do you have? [Magical Cooking]? I know it can create magical dishes but this—this is different.”

“[Wondrous Fare]. That’s what I have.”

Erin didn’t tell Octavia how she’d gotten it, but she explained how she could make the faerie flower drink. True, alchemy ingredients weren’t the same as hallucinogenic faerie flowers, but Erin thought what she was doing still made sense. Octavia nodded, finger on her lips as she thought out loud.

“You’re probably bypassing one of the natural steps in the creation process. Perhaps you’re skipping the need for a particular reagent? There are some high-level [Alchemist] skills that can do the same. Some really save on costs since you can practically create lesser healing potions for free by skipping on the need to mix up the proper base first—”

She broke off, shrugging.

“It doesn’t really matter. But there goes my idea of marketing this stuff and making a fortune. Only you can make it, after all.”

Erin nodded, smiling a bit. But the smile slipped.

“It’s good. I’ve finally got something only I can make, and it’s useful. It’s just—I wish it wasn’t so boring, you know?”

“Boring.”

“Boring. Even though I worked this hard—there’s still so much more to do, Octavia.”

Erin stretched out on her seat, feeling her tendons snapping as she tried to shake off some of the tiredness that felt like it was in her bones.

“I’m just so—tired thinking about it. I’ll get back to my inn, and then I’ll start selling this stuff. But even though I’ll probably get more customers, I still need a new helper, to build up my inn, buy some magical runes—there’s just so much to do and I can only take one small step at a time. It’s exhausting.”

“So what? ”

Octavia just looked blank. Erin glared at her.

“Don’t you wish you could be more like Ryoka? She doesn’t have to do stuff like this. She just—runs. She can do amazing stuff. I wish I could do something cool so quickly.”

Erin sighed. She didn’t like fighting or anything like that. She wasn’t athletic as Ryoka was. She knew that. It was just that this was—well, it had been fun. But now she was just tired.

But Octavia just snorted in derision.

“Only adventurers and crazy people like Ryoka can become rich and famous quickly. Everyone else just has to work hard and gain as many levels at they can. I’m going to save every coin I can, level up and learn as many recipes as possible so I can expand my stores, make better potions, and do more business until I’m the highest-level [Alchemist] on the continent.”

She gestured around her small shop.

“I might not reach my dream for years, but it’s a lot safer than swinging a sword around. Well, safer when you’re not around, that is.”

“But that’s…”

She realized she didn’t really have anything to say against that. Erin let her voice trail off unhappily.

What Octavia was saying was right. She was taking the smart option. Even if being an [Alchemist] was slightly dangerous, it was nothing like being an adventurer. It was just so boring to think of, though. But part of Erin thought that was just what being an adult was like. It was thinking about the big picture. She knew that.

So then why did hearing it all laid out like that make her so depressed? Erin didn’t know, but she did come to one conclusion which made her sit up in her seat.

“I’m done cooking for the day.”

Both she and Octavia brightened up when she said it. Erin was fed up with making useless soup, and Octavia was tired of eating it.

“Good! I’ll just pour your horrible soup into a jar, shall I? I can probably sell it—at a markdown of course…I can give you a good split of the profits if you’d agree to oh, a vendor’s fee of—”

Erin left Stitchworks and Octavia behind mid-sentence, shaking her head. She didn’t mind Octavia—well, she did sometimes. But there were just some days when she needed some alone time. Or more precisely, not-Octavia time.

The sky was still gray and the streets were still snowy when Erin left the shop. She walked carefully so as not to slip as she wandered down the busy streets. Celum was always bustling, even if it was a smallish city. Erin walked past countless faces who didn’t seem that different from hers—Humans, going about their daily lives who didn’t give her a second glance.

That was reassuring, but also disheartening for some reason. Erin missed Liscor. She missed seeing Drakes and Gnolls, fantastic creatures going about their everyday lives. Celum was nice because it was reassuring, but it was also boring for the same reason.

Boring. That seemed to be the word of the day, didn’t it? Even though Erin had come up with an amazing discovery—she still felt the word in her soul.

Bored. She wanted to do something exciting. No—not just that. She wanted to be with someone exciting. She missed Ryoka already. And not just Ryoka. She missed all of her friends.

They were back in Liscor. And Erin was far from there. She kicked miserably at a patch of snow and then looked up. What about the Horns of Hammerad? That nice Runner guy had come by yesterday and told her Ryoka was going to see them. They were close by!

But just as she had that idea, Erin’s face fell. She could go meet them—Erin knew they were still probably in Remendia—but going there would be dangerous, wouldn’t it? Everyone was still talking about the Goblin attacks and besides, Ceria and the others would probably come here instead, if Ryoka had told them where Erin was.

All she had to do was wait. And practice her alchemical cooking while she still had time. Erin knew that.

But…she didn’t want to.

The sky was grey. The people wore thick clothing and walked briskly to get about their business as quickly as possible. Few people stopped to chat in the cold weather, and no one talked to Erin. She walked alone, staring at the city and feeling that this was all wrong.

This world was missing something.

Fun.

Octavia had said it: the people in this world didn’t really have much fun, did they? Back home, well, Erin knew there were crummy office jobs or backbreaking jobs with bad pay all over the place. But at least people could go back home and drive to a pool, or watch videos on the computer, or play videogames or—or do things.

But here? What did the people here have to do in their spare time? As far as Erin could tell, they just kept working. They worked hard to earn more levels, or to be rich, or to enjoy themselves. But that was always for ‘later’, never now.

There was just something so wrong about this idea that Erin couldn’t stand it. How could anyone live like this? Was this really what life had been like back in her world, back before the modern era?

What did people do for fun back in the Middle Ages? Erin couldn’t remember. Go to festivals? See jugglers and performers? Get drunk?

This wasn’t the Middle Ages of course—there was a lot more handy technology, not to mention magic. But magic seemed so far away in day-to-day life, even in Octavia’s shop. Oh, there were [Mages] around who cast spells like [Message] all day, but that wasn’t real magic. That was just more work.

If she’d been back home, what would Erin be doing right now? Thinking about college, or being in college no doubt. But if she’d just been back at home, she would have been practicing chess, debating calling one of her friends, watching a Youtube video, talking with her pare—

Nope! Can’t do that! Erin stopped in the street and slapped her cheeks hard enough for them to sting. She couldn’t think about home or friends or fa—

She couldn’t think about it. She’d done well so far, but being in a city full of Humans was making her nostalgic. And Erin didn’t need nostalgia right now. She needed…

“A distraction.”

So saying, Erin set off walking in a specific direction. She wasn’t far from where she wanted to go, so in a few minutes she was pushing open the door to the Frenzied Hare.

“Miss Erin!”

A welcoming voice instantly called out her name. Erin turned, smiling, to see Miss Agnes bustle up to her, all cheer and good humor.

“Why Erin, it’s a surprise to see you this early! Are you already done with your business at the [Alchemist]’s? Or—don’t tell me, Miss Octavia’s concocted some nasty brew that’s set her store on fire again?”

“Nothing like that Miss Agnes. I just finished up early. How’s Mister Cumin doing?”

Erin smiled at the older woman as she took a seat at the table. While it was true she was sort of the new boss around here—at least when it came to cooking—Miss Agnes was the one always running the inn, and Erin was gone outside of breakfast and dinner most days.

Miss Agnes smiled at Erin as she always did when Erin asked about her sick husband. Ryoka never asked, even though Erin kept reminding her to. Although…Erin wasn’t sure Ryoka even remembered Mister Cumin’s name, or Agnes’ some days.

“He’s doing as well as can be expected. Still feverish and he sleeps too much, but I’m hopeful the new alchemist’s potion we bought will sort him out. We have you to thank for that of course—we’d never have been able to spare the coin if you hadn’t come by.”

“Oh, it’s—I’m really glad I could help.”

Erin smiled and waved her hand. Agnes smiled at her, and then glanced at the kitchen.

“You know, if you’re done with work, I’m sure the morning crowd would love to sample your cooking—”

There it was again. Erin’s smile twisted a bit on her face. It was always work, work, work. Even here.

Agnes saw Erin’s expression and hurried to reassure her.

“We don’t have that many guests, and I’m sure if you’re not feeling up to it—”

“I’m just a bit tired today. Um, I was wondering if I could have some eggs?”

“Of course! Why, you must be tired—Maran! Some eggs for Miss Erin please!”

The [Barmaid] glanced up from one of the tables and waved at Erin in acknowledgement. Soon, she was back with the eggs, and she and Agnes sat with Erin and talked. The inn wasn’t at all crowded and Safry was cooking whatever was needed in the kitchen while she served the tables as well.

Erin chewed the decent eggs with a bit of pepper and salt added for flavoring and chatted with Maran and Agnes. They didn’t have much to say, to be honest. Business was good—but Erin knew that. Maran was dating another guy, a young [Cook] whom Agnes wanted to lure to the inn, but Maran wasn’t even sure if they were serious about each other—soon enough, Erin felt compelled to bring up the issue on her minds.

“Hey, I’ve been wondering…what do you guys do for fun?”

The two women exchanged a surprised glance.

“Well, what do you mean, Erin? If you’re asking about fun things to do on a date—Maran would know more about that.”

Erin shook her head.

“Not like that. I mean—what do you do for fun, when you have time, I mean? Read books?”

Agnes chuckled.

“Free time? There’s precious little of that here. And books? I’m sure Cumin and I don’t have the coin for that, even if I wanted to spend hours reading. No, that gives me a headache.”

“Then what do you do?”

Maran smiled.

“The other day I went shopping and bought a pair of earrings. The gemstones are just quartz—but they’re so beautiful and they sparkle in the light! I’ll show you tomorrow.”

“Okay. But…did you do anything else?”