Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Whoa. I Can Make Magic Food.

Nay, with one knee planted in the snow, was trembling as she mentally chose ‘Y’ for –

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[Would you like to unlock Marrow Ability for Tongue of the Hierophant [Y/N?]

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Opening Ability Tree for the Delicacy: Tongue of the Hierophant.

The tree looked like a 3D holographic poster or chart of a human digestive system. From salivary glands and pharynx to the intestines and pancreas, it looked like all the organs were there. And each one glowed in a white aura with a cube next to it, signifying open ability slots.

You have twelve open slots in this Ability Tree. You have consumed the Truffle Marrow of the Steksis. It has syncretized into the Chef’s Delight ability. Would you like to use a slot for Chef’s Delight? [Y/N]

Before she decided, she mentally opened up the description for the ability.

Chef’s Delight. Through preparation and cooking, can imbue food and drink with basic buffs and debuffs for whomever eats and digests it. Grants you access to recipes straight from the spiritual database of Jezabelle Childe. Access to recipes and quality of food and buffs will increase according to Rank.

“Whoa,” she said.

“What is it?” both Nom and Alric asked. They were each staring at her with concern.

She selected ‘Yes’ and felt a warmth growing in her stomach, as if there was a cinder in her belly. The heat grew in intensity and she thought she was either going to explode or give birth to an inferno. She tried to hold in her pain but she started to groan. She staggered and fell forward, curling up into the fetal position.

Her vision went wild, like she was seeing in three-hundred and sixty degrees all at once. It was disorienting and overwhelming. Not only did she see the forest in front of her, she also saw Nom and Alric to the side and the rock shelf behind her. She closed her eyes and the heat started to drift out of her, as if wisps of it were unfurling into the universe and connecting with something beyond her consciousness that was bigger than her. She felt tethered and connected to something, a presence or collective presence that appeared as a library full of cookbooks in her mind.

Then it disappeared.

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[Ability Activation]

[Delicacy: Tongue of the Hierophant 1/12]

[Ability: Chef’s Delight]

[Rank: Base]

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The Rank text was blinking red.

She opened her eyes and her body tingled from consuming the Marrow. It reminded her of a heavy body high which she would sometimes experience from some strains of indica or hitting a big dab. That was her closest frame of reference for it. She sat up.

Nom slithered up to her. “Are you okay?”

“I can make magic food,” Nay said.

“Whoa,” Nom said.

Seeing that she was okay, he went back to his food and immediately devoured his half of the mushroom. As he swallowed, his skin started to turn green. It started in his mid-section and began to spread up and down his stalk. Soon he was humming in happiness and emitting a green chartreuse glow like a neon Art Nouveau sign for absinthe.

“Is he going to be alright?” Alric said.

“He’ll…be fine,” Nay muttered. “He does that. Changes colors when he eats.”

Nay opened up the Rank menu where she saw the odd marking and red blinking.

Rank is currently Base Level.

Error Message: There’s been a Delicacy Activation without meeting appropriate Prerequisite. Delicacies require Prerequisite: Iron Rank.

Note: May experience errors or sense of dysphoria while using Marrow Abilities.

Diagnosis: Worldtripper Racial abilities seem to be creating Prerequisite Bypass. Please report to a DMA agent.

Alric helped her up and sat her down on the log.

Then he kneeled in front of her. “Listen to me very carefully. You can’t let anyone see or know what you can do. The Ligeia League doesn’t look kindly upon unregistered Marrow Eaters.”

She still trembled from the after effects of eating the Marrow. She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “What’s The Ligeia League?”

“The alliance of cities on the Ligeia Peninsula. Their government controls anything having to do with Delicatessa and Marrow. They like to control who is able to become a Marrow Eater. As you can imagine, Marrow Eaters have access to…resources others do not have. They represent power and wealth. Any Marrow Eater who has somehow bypassed their system is considered a threat.”

Nay figured that made sense. Why wouldn’t the government try to control magic users and the resources that made them magic users? It was power. Humans would always try to control and hold onto power. It was the one resource that people would go to any length to always try to control. Craving power was human nature.

“Got it, so keep a low profile with this stuff,” Nay said. “Shouldn’t be too hard, right?”

“Stitchdale and anywhere near the Spineshards is considered the wilds compared to the Peninsula. This is the world’s edge. It’s less tame out here, and there’s less law. DMA agents or those associated with them may be passing through, but they are rare. Still, it is better to err on the side of caution. You never know who may be watching or listening.”

He sat down next to her and passed her the bottle of Frostbite Ale.

She took a swig. Her sense of taste was gone again. Seems like Delicacies and Marrow were the only foods strong enough to get through her numbed sense of taste. The ale was just cold to her, but when it went down there was a nice crisp feeling, like the liquid was burning away phlegm in her throat. She handed him the bottle back. “Do you know any Marrow Eaters?”

“You mean besides you?” Alric said. “I’ve encountered my fair share, usually when I’m in one of the cities performing duties for the Veritax. Many of the important family lines in each city are comprised of Marrow Eaters.”

“Does the Veritax employ Marrow Eaters?”

“We do. Specific positions and posts require different needs. All of the higher-ups are Marrow Eaters.”

“But not you?”

“I do not possess the affinity required for Marrow. My body would just digest a Delicacy or a Marrow as normal food. My vigor is still Base rank.”

“What does that mean? Base rank?”

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“You truly don’t know?”

Nay shook her head. “I assure you I have no reason to lie about it.”

Alric finally started slurping up his vegetable stew. “Hey, your soup is pretty good, too, you know.”

“Give me more time, some animal fat and flour, and I’ll show you a suitable stew.”

On the other side of the campfire, Nom’s skin had shifted towards purple again, but there was still a faint green aura around him. He was completely focused on a fried potato patty, eating slowly and with total concentration, like he didn’t want to miss a second of getting to enjoy the experience.

After Alric got down a few bites, he began to explain the concept of vigor to Nay. “Okay, so where do I even begin? Vigor is like, that thing inside of us, a measure of our souls.”

“Like our spirit?”

“It’s the…energy our spirit generates. Vigor is the breath of life. It flows through everything.”

“Okay, I get it. What did you mean when you said ‘Base rank’?”

“There are ways to make one’s vigor stronger, more powerful, more voluminous. Everyone, well most people, are born with the Base foundation of vigor. It’s the bare minimum one needs to live. But there are those who wish to go beyond that Base level and build upon that foundation. Some people dedicate their whole lives to cultivating their vigor. There are schools and guilds and organizations devoted to this.”

“It sounds intense.”

“It is. But to measure the different vigor levels, there’s a ranking system. The first step after Base is Iron. You have to be an Iron to be a Marrow Eater. That’s where most stay. But if one were to advance past Iron, the next rank is Bronze. Followed by Silver, Gold and Diamond. But honestly anything past Bronze is pretty rare. At least that I know of. But like I said, most people aren’t cultivators and are just satisfied with their Base-level vigor.”

“Why though? Why wouldn’t you want to try and climb the ranks? Wouldn’t that essentially mean more power?”

“Sure,” Alric said. He munched on a fried potato patty and washed the bites down with more Frostbite Ale. “But it’s not exactly easy.”

“My mama would always say nothing easy was worth doing.”

“It’s not exactly cheap either. Instructors, training, the right food, the right tonics, the right herbs…all that stuff. That stuff costs serious coin. Then there’s the DMA and their monopoly on it all. If a Marrow Eater wants to climb ranks they need DMA approval, so there’s also politics involved. They’ll hunt down anyone who tries to skirt the system. So it can also be quite dangerous.”

“Sounds almost as bad as the federal government from where I’m from and their old Prohibition policies on alcohol or their current policies on marijuana.”

“What’s marijuana?”

“It’s a type of leaf you can smoke out of a pipe. It can have a relaxing effect.”

“I would like to try this…what did you call it?”

“Marijuana.”

“Marijuana.”

He burped and said, “Excuse me.” He patted his belly. “That was a fine meal.” He had saved half of his fried potato patty.

He tossed it at Karka and the fauglir snapped it out of the air and began chewing happily. The large animal looked content, eating Nay’s cooking while stretched in front of the campfire.

“So, now are you going to tell me where you’re really from?” Alric said.

Nay looked up at him. The high of consuming the Marrow was still lingering. She held out a hand and nodded at his pipe. “Can I try?”

He grabbed it and tamped out the old contents. “I just answered a bunch of your questions. So maybe now you can answer mine.” He put in a fresh plug of silverbell leaf, lit his wick in the fire, and got the pipe going. He handed it to her.

She took a hit of the silverbell leaf and coughed. She was sure her lack of taste buds muted the flavor, but a rush of spearmint tickled her sinuses. It was odd, taking in the smoke and getting both a warm and tingly cold feeling. It was nice. She took another puff and exhaled. She wondered if the silverbell contained nicotine or its analogue on this world.

“I’m fairly certain I’m from another world,” she said.

He didn’t seem surprised by this. He just nodded, watching her, as if she confirmed his suspicions.

She continued. “Because I’m pretty sure, me, here with you now…this isn’t my world. And the things I’ve seen and done here already don’t exist or are not possible where I’m from. So I don’t know if this is like…another planet…or another reality…or an alternate universe. I have no idea. I just know it’s a different place than where I’m from.”

“As implausible and as fantastic as it sounds,” Alric said, taking another sip of ale, “it does kind of make sense. It at least explains why you don’t know anything about how things operate here. It also explains why someone as clueless as you is wandering up in the Spineshard Pass with no equipment or proper clothing. And it kind of explains why you have a tentacle as a traveling companion.”

“The tentacle has a name, buddy,” Nom said, coming up for air from his bowl of soup.

“Have you ever heard or met people from other worlds here?” Nay asked. “Is this like a normal occurrence for you guys, here?”

“I’ve never heard,” Alric said. “It is not an occurrence I’ve heard of. Although, we do get strange new breeds of monsters every now and then. But that’s usually attributed to The Scar. But never people.”

“So this must be as strange for you as it is for us,” Nay said.

“It is most strange,” he said.

He held out the bottle of ale to Nay but she declined. Then he held it out to Nom. The tentacle moved so fast he may as well have teleported over. He hugged the bottle with his protuberances and poured the rest of the ale down his beak.

Nom burped loudly, loud enough for his burp to echo throughout the mountain pass.

“Excuse me,” he said.

In the distance, there was an answer. But not an echoing burp.

A howl.

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