Chapter 7: Having Momentary Peace
When Kit has finished his task, Shiro and Cyrus apply wind magic to speed up the drying process. Once complete, the collective looks upon the finished product – a sign sporting bold golden lettering announcing the name of the traveling troupe, accented by a deep blue background. Bordering both the background and letters alike is a fiery crimson outline, one that boasts a faux translucent visage as the sun beams down on it. Kit smiles upon the work, a visible satisfaction commanding his countenance. "It's always a pleasure to work with high-quality base materials."
A sharp whistle is loosed from Shiro's lips as his eyes study the detail of Kit's craftsmanship. "So this is your best…uh, do you take commissions?" Kit chuckles, shaking his head at the notion. "Aw…"
The impresario of the troupe, an older gentleman garbed in lavish maroon robes, emerges from the tent, turning around to look upon what seems to have the group so captivated. A soft breeze travels through the area, swaying his slickly combed blond hair in its wake. His eyes light up at the sight, though the others cannot see them. "My word…it looks even better than it did when we first got it." He turns to Kit, an unmistakable astonishment upon his face. He is at a loss, his voice conveying this notion as he asks, "Kit, did you do this?!"
He replies, "I did, sir," gesturing to Shiro as he follows, "with help from this kind gentleman; he synthesized the paint I used."
"But would that hue not require lapis lazuli?" Both Shiro and Kit nod to him. He looks at the refreshed sign again. "My, but I had no idea you were possessed of such artistic skill!" He nods, though to affirm an unvoiced notion. He turns his attention back to Kit as he says, "I knew you had some skill as a stagehand, but this here is a true talent, Kit; 'tis a work of magic." He adopts a nostalgic visage, one mixed with a hint of sadness. "I am glad that we could travel together, Kit. Though I wish you could stay, I'll be praying for your journey's success."
"Thank you, sir…and thank you for everything you've done until now." He takes a moment to bid the impresario and the troupe one last farewell before setting off for the crossroads. The travelers join him; they all soon halt progression at the branching point. Not heading towards Grandport or Goldshore, Kit must bid farewell to his friends in turn. "Now I can depart without any lingering regrets."
Tressa asks, "So what kind of lead did you get?"
"Ah, I never mentioned it? I have heard mention of a woman who knows of my father's whereabouts; it seems that she has been searching for me as well!"
Therion delivers a dry observation. "That seems kinda suspicious." Tressa delivers an elbow into his bicep for the comment. "Watch it, brat."
Though his expression does not show it, Shiro is internally concerned as well. 'That does strike me as sketch…' Therese pokes him in the cheek, snapping him from his thoughts. "Is something amiss?"
"Stop being so paranoid, Shiro." He motions to deny such a claim, only to be denied in turn. "No, don't try to hide it."
He adopts his practiced henpecked husband impression to accentuate his reply. "Yes dear." Primrose and Olberic get a chuckle out of this, bringing a blush to Therese's cheeks.
Kit continues, "I must find this woman and learn what she knows." He bows to the group, smiling as he says, "I will pray for your journey to be a safe one, my friends."
Ophilia performs a curtsey. "We shall pray for yours in turn. May the Sacred Flame guide your way." Kit takes his leave on this note, leaving the group with their own path to follow. For awhile, they travel in silence, one that is broken once a bridge is reached. The bridge spans the distance of a gap formed by a stream that leads into a small lake; many fish can be seen flowing with the stream, with the lake as their destination. Pointing at the stream, Ophilia looks to Cyrus. "Professor, might you be privy to that species?"
He takes a moment to stare at the fish, his eyes taking on a scrutinizing gleam. Directing his attention to their destination, the lake, he begins his valuation. "That lake is a source of freshwater." Directing everyone's attention to the northwest, he says, "That mountain there has one other entrance for the migrating fish; it would be a little difficult to see, but to the north of the shrine we visited is a short waterfall that flows into the ocean. During mating season, this species of salmon climbs that waterfall, fighting against the flow, makes way through the mountain's inner channels, and finally ends at this lake to lay its eggs."
Alfyn holds his chin in his hand, mapping out the route of the salmon in his mind. "Shucks, but that sounds like a journey and a half."
Olberic nods in agreement. "Just so. These salmon endure much hardship just to lay their eggs; I find it admirable."
Continuing his lecture, Cyrus says, "This is a species of salmon whose origins lie in the Flatlands. Farming techniques birthed in Noblecourt were eventually passed to the city of Atlasdam, where it was then distributed across any location with freshwater." A smile forms on his face as he follows, "What fortune to find the destination the species seems to favor. Given the chance, I'd love to study the lake's properties."
Shiro looks about his allies as he asks, "Did you all have plans for dinner tonight?" The others shake their heads. "You lot in the mood for fish?" Linde gives a firm roar as her tail begins to wag at a greater pace. "Heh, no worries, kitten; we'll definitely procure a catch for you. Since we'll have to catch a fair haul, Professor Albright will have time to study the lake in earnest." Cyrus' eyes light up at the prospect, practically securing his approval. "This will also give Therese some time to practice."
"Hm? Are you trying to convert me into a fisherwoman?"
"Not quite. I'm referring to your magic training." She tilts her head at him, to which he chuckles. "I shall teach you a few ways of applying ice magic; fishing using ice magic alone requires precision, my dear. You'll improve your casting efficiency, resource management, timing, accuracy, and precision…among other things." She stares at him, her expression one of surprise. "I may not be certified, but I'm still a teacher in my own right, Therese." He gestures towards her, holding out a hand as if to reach out for her. "As Erdboden's Sage of Ice, I'll see to your development."
Resting his hands behind his head, Therion says, "Not to interrupt your lesson proposal, professor, but do you know how to cook?" He grins as he follows, "It's kind of a thing for the newbie to cook dinner on the night they officially join us."
A smirk forms on Shiro's face; handing a notebook and pen over to the group, he says, "Write down what salmon dishes you're in the mood for."
Therion can only chuckle at this, shaking his head as he starts writing down his portion of the wish list first. "Oh, this is gonna be good."
Cyrus takes his leave after contributing to the list, accompanied by Alfyn and Therion. As Shiro and Therese prepare to set off, they are joined by H'aanit and Linde. Ophilia takes a hesitant step forward as she asks, "Um, might I join you? I'd like to observe the lesson."
"As if you need to ask; by all means, Sister Ophilia." As if to supplement this, Primrose gives Ophilia a gentle push before walking alongside her. "You'll be joining us as well, milady?"
"I shall. I'm hoping I can learn Dark Magic from you as well, so this will be a good opportunity to gauge how suitable your teaching methods are."
Setting his belongings on the ground, Shiro rolls his shoulder and takes a moment to stretch. "I advise you to do the same, Therese; a proper warm-up improves aether flow." She does as instructed, removing her cape before passing it over to Ophilia. "I don't think you'll have to worry about your clothes getting wet."
"Oh, no, my cape improves ice magic…I wouldn't want to be caught cheating; oh the scolding I would get from Professor Albright." She giggles. "He'd be red in the face."
"Now then…before we begin, needs must I test something." He aims for a vacant space of land, one far enough away from the water to avoid startling any potential catch. He snaps the fingers of his right hand to cast a spell, which causes a pool of water to build on the ground before it transitions into a stalagmite made of ice rising towards the sky. "Alright, so I need not have the Scholar class equipped to use my natural spells from home; that simplifies things." Looking to Ophilia, a soft smile forms on his face. "It would seem that Kismet is smiling upon us today; Sister Ophilia, if you would like to join the lesson, you are free to equip the Scholar as a Subclass. Turns out I shan't be needing it for the lesson."
She nods to this, taking a moment to cup her hands together in prayer. Similar to when Shiro placed his fist to his chest before engaging Donovan in combat, Ophilia's form releases several blue lights; these lights disperse, changing her attire as they fade away. Her somewhat form-fitting cleric robes have now been replaced with flowing black robes befitting a scholar. A golden shoulder cape is draped from her shoulders, and her flowing hair has been done up into a bun; curiously, her brown gloves have disappeared, despite being on her person moments prior. She catches Shiro staring, his countenance stunned in its visage. "Do I look weird in these robes, Shiro?"
"Huh, what?" He realizes that he's been gawking like a fool, electing to quickly rectify the matter by clapping his hands to his cheeks. "No, no, not at all, Sister Ophilia; I was just captivated by your beautiful image, is all." Her face turns red at this, as does his own in kind. He rubs the back of his head in embarrassment. "Maybe I shouldn't have said that…" He scratches at his cheek. "My apologies. Professor Albright and I share a degree of looseness when it comes to compliments."
Ophilia giggles at this. "You admitted to that once before, but at least you're self aware."
"Dost thou haven trouble with womenfolk, Shiro?"
"I…wouldn't say that, H'aanit. I'm actually married." The eyes of the ladies, barring H'aanit, go wide at this. Linde expresses the same lack of surprise as her mistress, electing to scratch behind her ear before lounging on the warm ground. "It helps that my wives are all strong-willed; makes me wonder why they keep me around or what they see in me."
Arching an eyebrow, Primrose calls attention to his plural use of the word. "How many wives do you have?" When he yields the number – eight – Primrose recoils. "You're younger than I am, aren't you?!"
"Yes, I'm 21, same as Doctor Greengrass."
Therese giggles, seemingly unbothered. She gives a teasing remark. "Shiro, you animal…"
"Thou fancy thyself a hunter of women?"
"No, no, please don't view it that way. It's…complicated. I do wanna make it clear that all eight of them are aware of each other – we live together, even."
Despite the responses, Ophilia says, "You don't strike me as the type, Shiro. I would have figured you were a monogamous man."
"That's how I intended for all of this to go, but my lady and liege had other plans. The harem was her idea." The incredulous look Primrose adopts conveys everything Shiro needs to make his next reply. "Lady Gwenivere…has a curious way of conducting herself. She's of the belief that her duties as future ruler of the Province of Nature will force her into situations where she can't be there for me or our future children."
Folding her arms, Primrose takes a moment to consider that decision. "I take it she wanted you to keep your heart open to others willing to support you in your time of need?" He nods. "Hm, but would she not get jealous? We're all selfish creatures at heart, Shiro, and…"
He chuckles at this. "To be true, my liege desires everything, such is her philosophy. As a leader, she must be the envy of her subjects; she must live a fuller life than any other, standing as the example she wants others to follow." He rubs the back of his head as he follows, "That extends to her husband. If she's at her happiest, I must be as well."
"And for that to occur, she believeth that thou must haveth as large of a support group as possible. Curious."
"My liege is not entirely altruistic. While she loves me, she does have a distinct preference for her fellow women." They all shade their gazes at him. "She's taken a fancy to a number of the women who've decided to spend their lives with us."
Therese asks, "What's your take on the matter?"
"I…truth be told, I'm still quite wary of the idea, Therese, as I have been for most of my days. I told you before that I'm a dangerous man to be around; you've borne witness to one of my enemies. If people want to spend their lives with me, they need to know what they're getting into; despite all that I've accomplished, I might not be able to protect them, and that terrifies me."
"So thou wouldst taken womenfolk strong enough to stand at thy side; 'tis pragmatic."
"Oh, no, that's just personal preference, H'aanit. I grew up in an environment filled with a constant presence of strong women, so those are the types I gravitate towards the most."
H'aanit arches an eyebrow at this. "Thou doth not minde a woman boasting greater strength than thee?"
He tilts his head at this, suggesting that the concept H'aanit alludes to is foreign to him. "Of course not." He smirks as he follows, "I love the kind of woman who can kick my ass."
Shiro seems to stare directly into H'aanit's eyes as he says this, causing her to go red in the cheeks; she promptly wipes the implications from her mind. "…Fascinating." She speaks no further on the matter. 'I shalle storen that away for later; he doth possessen a different sort of strength.' She thinks on the matter for but a moment longer. 'I shouldst also taken care to recalle Primrose's warning; there aren only two sorts of menfolk.'
Primrose says, "You'll be sharing the rest of this tale with us in the future, Shiro." Her tone suggests that her statement is not a request, leaving no room for negotiation.
Therese adopts a contemplative countenance as she says, "Your wives must be strong indeed to be sharing you amongst each other. I don't think I could share my beloved with another, let alone seven other women."
"You speak the truth; I honestly don't deserve them, but I should take care to avoid saying that aloud…Lissa and Ha-chan were quite cross with me last time." He quickly shakes his head to rid it of the thoughts of the two chasing him through their shared home, wielding heart-shaped pillows and furious expressions. He shudders, his mind recalling the pain surging through his face as Lissa slammed one of those pillows into it. "Let's get to our training, shall we? Therese, show me your best attempt at the spell I just cast."
"I need to create a stalagmite out of ice, right?" He nods to her. "OK." She pulls a black tome from her hip, opening it to a page towards the middle. The words written upon the pages emit an icy blue glow as she holds a hand over them, chanting her spell. As she nears the end of her chant, she points to the empty space beside the location of Shiro's ice stalagmite. "Ice, rise and pierce the heavens!" At her command, a stalagmite, likening more to a pillar, rises beside the one conjured by Shiro. Whereas Therese's conjuring sports a thick base and tapers towards the apex, Shiro's is more akin to a needle, with the tip thinning out towards its own apex.
Shiro studies the sight, comparing both end results in his mind. "You're certainly no slouch." He looks to Therese as he asks, "What's your state of mind as you usually cast?" The face she dons conveys confusion at the question. "Where I come from, magic is cast via communication between caster and the spirits. The spirits can interpret efforts to cast through gauging intent and emotion." He holds out both of his hands, palms facing upwards. To the left is summoned a red flame, one that dances energetically and burns brightly. To the right is summoned another red flame, though this one burns gently with low intensity. "It would appear that the principle is similar here in Orsterra."
"I think I understand. I cannot hear the spirits as of yet, so I cannot properly instruct them."
"I see, then your spells are cast through emotion, necessitating a need to interpret." He closes his eyes to think on the matter. 'Her casting speed will improve with time. For now, let's focus on adjusting her area of effect.' He disperses the two flames in his hands as he says, "I have an idea of how we should proceed." He snaps his fingers to create a ring of darkness directly in front of the stalagmite Therese conjured. The area of this circle is much smaller than the stalagmite behind it. "The area defined within this ring is your casting area; your spells are not to exceed its boundaries."
'I'll be able to see my own progress this way, too.'
"Before you cast the next attempt, calm yourself. Putting in too much effort to zero in on the area restriction will result in the spirits lending you more power than you need." He gestures with his hand as he follows, "Considering the practice exercise I have in mind for you, you'll need to save your strength." Therese slyly backs away at the thought, eliciting a chuckle. "Worry not, my dear, for I have a remedy for when your strength fails you."
She nods to him, taking up her spell book once more in spite of the hesitation present in her gaze. She chants her spell again, taking aim at her newly designated area of effect. 'I can do this…' Her spell is cast, creating a thin pillar of ice, one practically identical to the original stalagmite conjured by Shiro. Of note is Therese's effort to slim the end result; her creation is within the boundaries of the circle, but perhaps more important is that there is plenty of space to work with. She looks to Shiro, somewhat nervous upon seeing his valuating gaze. "W- Was that alright?"
"You certainly did better than 'alright', Therese." He looks to her, a smile on his face as he asks, "Do you wish to take a few more practice shots, or shall we move on?" She elects to practice, prompting him to dispel his current ring of darkness to create another one. Therese's usual smiling face has been thoroughly replaced with one of intense focus. All of her efforts are put towards her betterment, granting her the visage of an individual Shiro is not accustomed to seeing. 'She's something else when her distractions are pushed to the side.' After five castings, Shiro can see that his temporary student is close to exhaustion, but intends to continue.
He steps over to lower her spell book, much to her chagrin. "Shiro, I'm fine; once more." He shakes his head to this, gently taking the book from her outright. She takes a few deep breaths in an effort to show that she is well and fit to continue – her efforts are for naught.
"There is no need to push yourself; it's not as if you're going to lose your chance to improve." He reaches into his pocket to pull out a vial containing a plum purple liquid. Handing it to Therese, he follows, "This tonic is made from inspiriting plums; it'll restore your reserves." She drinks the tonic without delay; color returns to her face shortly after the vial is emptied of its contents. She smiles at him, letting out a giggle to show that she's in better health. "Glad to see you're well, but you're done taking practice shots." She lets out a huff in response, puffing out a cheek and folding her arms. When it becomes clear that Shiro will not be swayed, she lets out one last huff before walking towards the water's edge. "That's the spirit."
Ophilia follows after the pair, ready to take part in the lesson alongside Therese. Shiro explains that, for this exercise, the two budding scholars are to procure enough fish to feed the group, with the restriction being that no proper fishing equipment is to be used. "We must secure our catch using that ice spell?" Shiro nods to this, causing Ophilia to gaze upon the flowing stream. Many fish are present, which is no surprise. 'Once our first spell is cast, they'll start to disperse…'
Studying the fish in turn, Therese endeavors to discern the best approach. Though she'd rather keep her musings internal, the notion that Ophilia might benefit from her positing pushes her to speak aloud. "We have to be careful with how we pierce the fish." She places her hands together, tenting her fingers; "A haphazard kill will ruin the flavor of any dish the fish is put into."
H'aanit's countenance lights up at this. "Mighten thou havest experience as a fisherwoman?"
Therese shakes her head at this before rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment. "Oh no, not at all; I learned that while I was at the market." She looks back to find Primrose assisting Shiro in pulling a long table from a portal of darkness. In each hand is a red glow stick, presumably provided by Shiro. The Dancer periodically calls out to her unseen companion, instructing him through the blindness generated by the portal's composition. "That's…peculiar."
As Shiro steps through from the other side with the final stretch of the table, he sets his charge onto the ground at his feet. Wiping his brow, he lets out a sigh. "I don't remember moving that table being so strenuous." He rolls his right shoulder; "Maybe I'm losing my touch."
A head topped with shiny black hair fashioned into a bob-cut pokes through the portal. A pair of red eyes akin to a faded flame stares at the back of Shiro's head, with a bright and warm smile beaming upon him. A cheery voice is loosed from these lips as the individual begins to speak. "That's because you usually carry the table from beneath the center, nii-chan."
Glancing behind to properly address the voice, Shiro's countenance brightens. "I had forgotten about that, actually."
"Know what else you forgot?" An arm emerges from the portal, carrying within its hand a tall bottle topped with a red cap. "Soy sauce. You can't cook your new friends salmon without soy sauce, nii-chan."
"You're absolutely right, Amy; thank you." He receives the bottle from her, setting it on the table.
The woman known as Amy briefly introduces herself to the group as Shiro's younger sister-in-law before returning to the other side of the portal. Before it closes, she pokes her head back over to the side of Orsterra. "Oh, and I appreciate you all looking after my brother; I know he's a handful." Shiro rests a hand on the crown of her head. "What's u-" She is promptly pushed back to the other side, her protests quickly silenced as Shiro disperses the portal in turn.
"That one's always been a bit cheeky." Looking towards the stream, he can see that both Ophilia and Therese are making progress. Their conjured ice stalagmites are pierced through the brains of their targets, safely avoiding the body to prevent unwanted damage. H'aanit offers to help with the lesson, coaching the pair on how to identify the best fish to target. Walking over, Shiro's attention is caught by Linde, who has secured quite a fat salmon for herself. He takes a knee to rub the snow leopard's head, eliciting a purr from the satisfied beast. "Quite the experienced huntress yourself, kitten; mayhap you could teach me paw fishing?"
Another purr escapes the large cat. "I shalle happily teachen one who doth wishe to learn, Shiro."
Six salmon are caught within the hour, plenty of time for Shiro to observe his students' methods of approach. His cooking station has been prepped in turn, thanks in part to Tressa and Olberic. Using magic, he prepares a bulk of dishes at once, eliciting curious gazes from Therion and Cyrus. Dinner is served soon after the setting sun places the sky at its darkest shade of orange. 'A round table would have been better, at least as far as eating at the table is concerned.' At the center of the table is a giant bowl of white rice available for free refills.
A large rectangular umbrella protects the entire table and its contents beneath the shade. An assortment of dishes line the table, accompanied by mugs of freshly poured green tea and small bowls filled with a generous amount of soy sauce. For Therion, H'aanit, and Olberic, they have been served a dish they've never seen before. Some sort of black wrapping that they presume to be edible paper holds together an outer layer of rice whose center houses smoked salmon and avocado; many small servings of this dish top their plates. Shiro explains the dish is known as a sushi roll, and that the black paper is actually a species of seaweed used to hold the dish together.
For Primrose, Cyrus, Ophilia, and Therese, a baked dish has been provided. A large cut of salmon sits beside a few cuts of green vegetables; in addition to being topped with lemon slices, the salmon appears to have been coated with a blend of glaze unfamiliar to them. Tressa and Alfyn each have a bowl sitting in front of them. Within these bowls are a collection of scrambled eggs, onion slices, fried rice, and thin cuts of salmon. The onion slices sit at the bottom soaking in a small amount of soy sauce; the eggs are evenly distributed atop the onions, with the fried rice topping them in turn. The cuts of salmon rest atop the rest of the dish, with a few bits of minced garlic used as garnish.
Taking his own seat, Shiro lets out a sigh. "Before you all dig in, please keep in mind that the soy sauce is to be consumed in moderation." Everyone tilts their head at the notion, having never sampled this condiment before. "While an excellent accompaniment to the dishes you'll be eating, soy sauce is incredibly high in salt content; consuming too much at once will pose health risks." Looking to everyone at the table, he follows, "If you're going to apply soy sauce, it is best done by dipping your food into it; you get just a dab this way – enough for flavor, but not so much that rapid consumption will risk killing you."
Cutting into his meal, Cyrus says, "Two of these dishes are foreign to me, and I should like to think that I've read my fair share of culinary encyclopedias."
Shiro chuckles at this. "Most of these recipes originate from the Far East of Erdboden; they're quite different from what is typically served in the west." Gesturing towards the trio dining on sushi rolls, he says, "Sushi is the first of the bunch that I learned how to make. When I was a lad, I used to think the seaweed wrapping was edible paper." He chuckles at this, turning his attention to Alfyn and Tressa. "That dish is a type of rice bowl called 'donburi'. A lot of my friends consider it my specialty, but really, I work best with eggs, not fish."
Taking a bite into her meal, Primrose notes a torrent of flavors bursting from the salmon. She sets her knife and fork down, taking a moment to wipe her mouth with a cloth. "I've dined on baked salmon before, but this glaze is unfamiliar to me…it's delicious, too."
"Heh, I learned how to make that from a woman named Dalla." His mind briefly flashes back to his time in the city of Tharsis within the World of Odyssey; visions of a dinner table, much like the one he sits at now, return to him. His four comrades dining as a family, with a smiling innkeeper asking about their most recent trip into the Second Stratum of the Yggdrasil Labyrinth. He smiles at the memories as he returns to the present. "The glaze is made from a combination of soy sauce, salt & pepper, olive oil, brown sugar, and garlic. Normally you add lemon juice, but since I put lemon slices on top of the salmon, I went with a touch of cinnamon instead."
"Shucks; I've never had a meal this complicated before." He looks to Shiro, an awkward smile on his face as he asks, "Am I eating this right?"
"You need not worry about that, Doctor Greengrass; enjoy the dish at your leisure…though I do recommend taking a sip of your tea every so often." Alfyn arches an eyebrow at this, with Tressa ceasing her efforts to eat as she reaches for her mug instead. "I went with a vegetal flavor since you're having seafood; it accentuates the dish in a way similar to how drinking water before eating fruit improves the succulence and sweetness therein."
Olberic says, "Should you ever grow weary of the battlefield, a career as a gourmet would suit you well."
"That's kind of you to say. I had to practice seafood dishes quite early to satisfy my liege; Lady Gwenivere adores her seafood more than any other." He has a short laugh before briefly recounting a tale of Gwenivere boldly proclaiming, as a child, that she'd establish a fishermen's union under the protection of her family name. "It was hard work, and I often screwed up the finer details back then, but seeing her elated expression, as well as the expressions you lot wear now…it was worth the effort."
H'aanit elects to point something out. "While there is enough fish for the group, I've noticed that thou art not joining us." A quick glance at the table brings her to a revelation. "…There is only enough fish for everyone except thyself, Shiro…"
"My system doesn't handle seafood too well, so I try to refrain from eating it."
Tressa expresses concern over this. "Wait, what are you gonna eat then, Shiro?"
Before him sits a bowl filled with scrambled eggs and rice. Shiro takes a moment to sprinkle shredded cheese on top of the food before mixing it together. A small flame is summoned to his hand, which he then holds over the bowl to melt the cheese. Dispersing the flame, he lifts the bowl as if to toast his companions. "A dish fit for a king, my dear Tressa!" She snickers at this, with Therion covering his mouth with his fist to stifle his own.
