Chapter 12: A Day in the Life
A week had passed since Asher's arrival at the church, and each morning had fallen into a rhythm, though it was still far from ordinary. The early sunlight filtered through the narrow windows, spilling over the worn floors.
Asher stretched, his muscles still sore from the previous day's exertions, but he pushed the fatigue aside. The morning quiet was something he had grown to appreciate, a moment of solitude before the chaos of the day began.
Kaspar and Otto were both early risers, the former already absorbed in tinkering with his mechanical contraptions, while the latter had his nose buried in a stack of books, as he usually did.
Today, like most days, the responsibility of food was shoved onto him. As much as Kaspar's enthusiastic suggestions had thrown him into the deep end in the past, Asher had started to find a strange sense of peace in preparing food.
The kitchen, though not much to look at, had become a space where he could let his mind wander, concentrating on chopping vegetables or stirring broths without distraction.
Kaspar and Otto had their own work to do, and Asher was content with the isolation.
With a few days of trial and error under his belt, Asher was becoming more confident.
Today, he had decided to surprise the two of them with a meal, not just the usual haphazard attempts they had been making together. He was getting better at using the strange local ingredients, the ones that didn't make sense at first but somehow worked together once he figured them out.
Asher's hands moved through the motions of preparing the food, cutting the familiar-looking lamb chops, which were much like the ones he would have seen back on Earth, their tenderness enhanced by a careful sear. The carrots were the same as he remembered them, their orange hue vivid and sharp, a comfort in their simplicity.
But there were the oddities, too—vegetables that didn't quite match what he knew.
The blue vegetable, for instance, resembled an Earth potato in shape, but its insides were an eerie shade of cobalt. When thrown into soups, it turned the broth an unappetizing shade and left a lingering bitterness, ruining the flavor. But when prepared properly, cut into thin slices and roasted, it made an excellent side dish—salty and firm, a surprising complement to the rich lamb.
Then, there was the nut, strange in its appearance with a thick, spiky shell that could only be cracked open using a special tool that Asher had only recently learned to wield. Inside, it revealed a sweet, soft centre, unlike any nut he had known before. At first, he'd mistaken it for something inedible, but once he got the hang of it, he had learned to treat it like a delicacy.
The most interesting ingredient of all was the purple salt—extracted from the same blue vegetable, but only after it had been processed in a machine located in the very church. The machine crushed the blue tubers into a fine powder, which then crystallized into a deep purple salt that tasted indistinguishable from any real salt. Asher had learned that a pinch of this made a meal feel more complete, adding depth to even the most basic of dishes.
Asher worked in silence, the steady rhythm of chopping and stirring filling the quiet air.
His hands were becoming familiar with the tools in the kitchen, and he no longer fumbled with the unfamiliar gadgets Kaspar had introduced him to. The ingredients—though still strange—had begun to make sense in his mind, and the process felt more instinctive than before.
An hour passed before Asher was finally satisfied with the dish. It wasn't a grand meal by any means, but it was something that might pass as decent, and he wasn't about to hold back from his newfound sense of pride. He set the pots and pans aside, wiping his hands on a rag as he surveyed his work.
Before beginning his sermons, Otto always made sure to have his fill. Despite the fervor with which he delivered his speeches, he remained a reserved figure outside of them, still carrying an air of skepticism towards Asher.
Kaspar, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of energy. Though they struggled with verbal impairments, they never seemed able to stay quiet about anything. Whether it was excitedly explaining how a doohickey and thingamabob had accidentally improved efficiency in sector A2, or boasting about their latest animal-themed robot, Kaspar's enthusiasm knew no bounds.
While his chatter was endearing, it was often less than appetizing—especially as every tangent came with bits of finely crafted meal spilling from his mouth.
After the meal, the two went about their day. Otto spent most of his time brooding, only breaking his silence to pray or deliver grandiose speeches to an adoring audience.
Though Asher never actively converted to the church—being a firm atheist—the messages in Otto's teachings were undeniably captivating. The god this church follows is known as the God of Steam and Machinery, though Asher had heard it used to be called the God of Craftsmanship before the name change.
Otto delivered these teachings in a rather neutral, public-relations tone, devoid of personal opinion. They also referenced several other religions from this world:
The Church of Evernight,
The Church of the Earth Mother,
The Church of Storms,
The Church of Knowledge and Wisdom,
The Church of the Eternal Blazing Sun,
and The Church of the God of Combat, which seemed to be Feysac's dominant religion.
After these sermons a peculiar habit Asher noticed was Otto's suspicious, almost paranoid behavior towards the basement connected to his room. This strange conduct gave Asher a sense of déjà vu, though he couldn't pinpoint why.
Kaspar, on the other hand, spent the majority of his day obsessively tinkering with the machinery around the building.
Around noon, after Otto finished his sermon and Kaspar took a short break, Samantha often stopped by to check in, inquiring how things were going.
One day, she brought Nimbus along on a trip into town, and Asher witnessed an unexpected side of Otto. The usually composed man appeared genuinely terrified of the fluffy creature. Whether it was due to a severe allergy or a phobia, it was hard to say.
After that, Asher rarely saw the dog again, having received an earful from Otto after Nimbus chased some kids who had been throwing rocks at him.
From what Asher gathered, Samantha had given the parents a stern talking-to, though it was a surprise that she didn't escalate things further.
Every other day, Asher found himself sent into town to gather food and necessities for the church. It was a routine task, but one that often led to interesting encounters. Alongside the usual bread, meat, and vegetables, the errands included picking up trinkets and scrap metal from a sketchy homeless man in a shadowy back alley.
This man, who seemed to have formed an unlikely friendship with Kaspar, always had something metal related on offer—often through means that were better left unquestioned. Today, he presented a replacement gas lamp, one that perfectly matched the one in the church that had recently broken.
"Where you get?" Asher asked in shoddy feysac, inspecting the lamp's surprisingly good condition.
The man simply grinned, his toothy smile both unsettling and oddly disarming. "Don't ask too many questions, kid. Just tell Kaspar it's top quality. Honest work, you know?"
Asher doubted the "honest work" part but handed over the gold hoorn coins anyway. Kaspar would be thrilled to have the broken lamp replaced, and despite the man's dubious methods, his trinkets were undeniably reliable. Kaspar often claimed the man's finds were more useful than anything bought from a proper store.
On the topic of money, Asher had come to understand that Feysac's currency system was, at the very least, more practical than the neighboring Intis and Loen's convoluted denominations.
A gold hoorn was equivalent to 10 feysilver, which in turn was broken into 10 kopeks. This decimal structure made calculations straightforward. However, the currency's weakness created its own set of problems.
For instance, a single feysilver was barely enough to purchase a loaf of bread, and carrying large sums of coins became cumbersome quickly.
As a result, many merchants and traders in Feysac preferred Loen pound notes for high-volume transactions, as the gold-backed currency held far greater value and stability. This reliance on foreign money only devalued the native currency further, a sore spot for many Feysac nationals.
The church, on the other hand, largely sustained itself through donations. Some came from the townsfolk, while others arrived in the mail from the head cathedral.
These contributions were Otto's primary source of funding, but they had been shrinking recently. Otto often ranted about this during quieter moments, his temper flaring as he muttered about being disrespected after everything he had done for the faith.
Later, he helped Kaspar with some mechanical repairs, mostly handing them tools while they animatedly explained what each gadget did. Though much of Kaspar's rambling went over his head, their enthusiasm was infectious.
Asher also spent some time cleaning the main hall, rearranging the pews and sweeping up the endless layers of dust that seemed to settle overnight. By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, his arms ached, but at least the place looked presentable for Otto's next sermon.
In the evening, it was back to his Feysac lessons with Kaspar. Setting up candles on the desk, their warm glow illuminating a battered old textbook and Kaspar's scribbled notes. Asher found the language challenging but strangely rewarding, especially with Kaspar's enthusiastic, if sometimes scatterbrained, tutoring.
When Asher's questions veered too close to Beyonder topics, Kaspar grew uncharacteristically hesitant. "Otto said not to, uh…. go there again," they said, their usual chatter subdued. "He give rundown later… probably."
Asher didn't press. He had the feeling Otto's "rundown" would be anything but simple and figured it was best not to poke the bear for now.
After lessons, Asher took over the kitchen again, determined to spice up the usual fare. He added a pinch of dried herbs to the stew and tried his hand at roasting the blue, salty vegetables with a dash of oil and some crushed nuts for texture. The result wasn't groundbreaking, but it was a welcome improvement over the bland meals they'd been eating previously.
Finally, he tried to settle in for the night, though Kaspar's endless racket made that easier said than done. Between the clang of tools and the occasional muttered exclamation from their workbench, the noise echoing through the room.
Asher sighed, rolling onto his side and stuffing a pillow over his head. It was another exhausting, chaotic day, but at least it was his chaos now.
Authors Note: I use three asterisks to show scene transitions or time skips but gets rid of those for whatever reason, and im too lazy to fix those on each of these so sorry if some transitions seem jarring.