Cooking Magic
By
Tiffany Park
"You want to learn to cook?" Baffled, Ashura stared at his foster son. Big, guileless blue eyes gazed back, lit with hope. Ashura quailed at the beseeching expression on Fai's upturned little face.
"Fai, you can have any food you want, whenever you want," Ashura said. "All you have to do is ask the servants to bring it to you. You don't need to learn how to make the dishes yourself. It's...it's..." He almost said, "It's beneath you," but caught himself just in time. Fai was insecure enough about all manner of things. Ashura was trying to build up Fai's confidence in himself, and saying something that clumsy would hardly be productive in that endeavor. There was no need to make Fai feel afraid of asking to learn a new skill, even if it was one that was totally unsuitable for a little prince.
Fai didn't notice Ashura's hesitation. "It's not the same. I need to know how to do it myself."
"Why?" Ashura couldn't fathom it. He wondered why Fai wanted to learn something so pedestrian…so common…as cooking. He doubted Fai would ever be so interested in learning, say, laundry, sewing, or scullery skills, and from Ashura's perspective those menial jobs were comparable with cooking.
The child already had his arguments marshaled. "You and Lord Suhail say it's still too early for me to learn to make potions and stuff, right? Because I might blow something up, right?"
"Yes," Ashura confirmed. There was a great deal of truth in that statement. Not just because Fai still had trouble controlling his immense magic, but also simply because a child as young as Fai really couldn't be trusted with the dangerous substances required for many magical potions, such as wormwood and mandrake and foxglove. Maybe if Fai were really that interested in the subject, he could be taught to make some simple hearth-magic tisanes using ordinary, safe herbs, like, say, chamomile or mint...
"So, cooking's a lot like making elixirs and tinctures and stuff, right? Except without using magic," Fai said eagerly. "It's just like alchemy. You still have to measure and mix powders and liquids, and heat them, and shape them, and you get a new result that's different and better than the original ingredients—"
Alchemy. Ashura froze with alarm. Fai wanted to learn alchemy? So young? It was Ashura's worst nightmare come true. He almost shivered at the idea of Fai in an alchemy laboratory. It would be utterly irresponsible to allow any child to handle substances like quicksilver and aqua regia, let alone Fai, with his enormous power and lack of training...and the mere thought of what Fai could do with Flowers of Sulphur, Dragon's Blood, and Astrum Solis made Ashura's blood run cold.
With single-minded determination, Fai continued to make his case. "So, baking a cake or preparing a custard requires the same kinds of skills, right? Everything has to be measured and mixed just right, and heated for the correct amount of time, and cooled and finished in certain ways. The cooks have told me before that creating desserts is a very precise art, and it sounds a lot like alchemy, and—"
Ashura held up a hand. "I get the idea."
Fai's enthusiasm was certainly unexpected. He was fascinated by all aspects of magic, true, but he was still working on the basics. And alchemy...alchemy was always restricted to more mature, experienced magicians. It wasn't something that Ashura wanted to encourage while Fai was still so young. Mastery of that art was not simply a matter of mixing random substances together to see what resulted. That was either a waste of time or horribly dangerous, even lethal. Alchemy also involved a great many mathematical calculations and precise, painstaking measurements. Indeed, this new interest was rather bizarre, as Fai disliked his lessons in mathematics a great deal and often tried to avoid them.
"Anyway," Fai went on, oblivious to his audience's alarm and bewilderment, "I thought cooking would be, like, good practice for alchemy, you know? And I could make really yummy food, too, so it wouldn't be a waste of time, right? So even if I can't make potions and tinctures yet, I can make desserts and soups and roasts and breads and stuff. Those things are really important."
"Well, yes, they are, but why..." Ashura stopped and stared at his child with sudden comprehension.
"Food is really important," Fai added quietly, but Ashura didn't need any further explanations.
Food.
No, alchemy was not the true motivation here. It was just the excuse.
"Maybe it's even more important than magic," Fai said. "And a lot of the techniques are the same..." He rattled on, again outlining his argument about the similarities between magic and cooking.
Ashura realized that he probably should have seen this coming. Since his arrival in Seresu, Fai had been enthusiastic about trying different foods. It wasn't surprising that he wanted to know how to prepare them, too. A child with Fai's history and insecurities would covet that knowledge in case he had to fend for himself.
On some level, Fai would probably always worry that he might not really be wanted, that he couldn't trust that he'd ever really have a real home, no matter where he went.
It all seemed a natural result of the child's past. Ashura's guts clenched as he unhappily recalled the starved, bedraggled, and terrorized waif he had taken from that horrific, death-filled pit in Valeria. For much of his young life, Fai had been the victim of monstrous deprivation: of clothing, food, warmth, kindness, stability and security, love—all the creature comforts required by human beings and taken for granted by most. He absorbed it all like a sponge, and sometimes it seemed like he could never get enough.
Ashura hoped that someday that sad desperation of Fai's would pass.
His argument made, Fai stopped talking and waited politely. That sweet little face blinked up at Ashura, and the child's eyes seemed to get even wider and bluer. Ruefully, Ashura admitted to himself that he always caved in when Fai aimed those particularly devastating weapons at him...
There wasn't any real reason to deny the child, was there? Fai would pick up a few rudimentary basics of cooking sooner or later, anyway. In his youth, Ashura had grudgingly learned some rough and ready cooking techniques. They had been useful in military camps, or as part of the normal social experience of a successful hunt. He could boil vegetables to mush, and roast an animal or bird carcass over a fire, or even make a simple stew...and usually not ruin the meal. At least, not too badly.
However, in Luval Castle, or any other residence for that matter, Ashura had never even made his own tea, let alone any kind of elaborate dish. And after he had become king, others always performed meal preparation and other basic maintenance services, even out in the field.
In time, Fai would acquire the same kind of rustic cooking techniques as part of his experiences with growing up, but he hardly needed to learn to prepare fine palace cuisine. Yet, despite the fact that princes really had no place in the kitchens, that seemed to be what he wanted—at least, it was right now, though he might lose interest when he discovered it was hard work.
Forbidden fruit was always the most desirable. Besides, the work might be ill-suited to a prince, but Fai's future life was going to be anything but typical. He would one day leave Seresu to travel across worlds. Ashura thought about that future, and wondered how Fai might explain to his travelling companions just how and why someone of his elevated station knew advanced and sophisticated culinary techniques that could only have been mastered through extensive instruction and long practice. It really wasn't the sort of thing most princes knew much about. Would he use that same thin excuse about magic and cooking being the same? Well, Ashura acknowledged, there were similarities, as Fai himself had just pointed out, but they really didn't go as far as Fai had claimed. Then again, a non-magician probably wouldn't understand the fundamental differences, so that explanation could pass muster.
Besides, on that future journey, elaborate cooking skills might well turn out to be useful for Fai. Ashura couldn't imagine how, though. Traveling from world to world was unlikely to require more than a simple knowledge of the basics, which would be more than enough to keep him and his future friends from starving.
But really, who knew what abilities Fai would one day require? He should be allowed to spread his wings and fly where he willed. Anything he chose to learn might turn out to be of immense consequence. His very existence was destined for great things, much greater than anything in Ashura's small life, which would always be tied to Seresu. Then Ashura smiled at the foolishness of his own self-deprecation. He was raising a child who would one day save all of existence. There could be no greater calling for him than Fai's welfare.
Fai would need to be adaptable for that journey, not forever mired in the rigid confines of court and royal protocol. Any interest of his was potentially useful, even necessary, and should be encouraged.
And really, when you got right down to it, where was the harm?
On the heels of that thought, Ashura winced inwardly. Every time he'd thought the words "where was the harm?" with regards to something Fai wanted, they usually came back to bite him in some way or another. He was very careful to hide his sudden dismay from Fai.
"I suppose it would be all right for you to learn," he allowed cautiously. "Say, once a week so it doesn't disrupt your other lessons?"
Despite the lack of a smile, Fai's face brightened like a glorious spring sunrise. "Oh, thank you!" he gushed. "I'll become the best cook ever! You'll see!"
Ashura nodded. "I'm certain you will." And I hope the cooking staff can handle what's coming their way, he added mentally.