"You said that it came from an orc collective," Wen-ci asked, looking up from the corn cob she held in her hand.
"That's what the note said," Parker-ye said with a nod. He turned towards the nearby table littered with glassware, documents, pens and stray grapes.
Wen-ci and Shal-ye took a preemptive step backwards as he rummaged through the pile. Grapes fell and rolled on the floor, some disappearing amongst the wine barrels near the wall.
"I know I have it here somewhere," Parker-ye assured them as he continued his search.
Wen-ci nodded and turned towards the huge painting that hung above doorway. She peered at the corner where the artist's sigil resided.
"That's a very elegant way to write the name," Shal-ye said, giving the picture another lingering look. She looked over her shoulder. Parker had moved from one table to another. "Is the blood corn true?"
"Very, very true," Wen-ci said absently. She sighed. "My personal seal looks nothing like that. I think I might be jealous." Wen-ci smiled at her friend. "This," she said, waving the corn cob in her hand, "is the purest blood corn I've seen outside of the Institute's ledgers."
Shal-ye's smile bloomed. The legendary ledgers kept track of every food stuff that had ever been known to the elves. Most of their contents were still in circulation, but a rare few had gone extinct over the millennia. One of those was blood corn. It, along with its cultivation, had disappeared from the lands of the elves, dwarves and humans during the Great War.
Most of the blood varieties had disappeared then. It was a grievous loss, especially to those who reared predators. Blood vegetables were most suitable for their diets, replacing the need for fresh meat.
If there was one thing farmers and ranchers longed for the most, it was to revive one of those lost lines.
"If it was an orc collective, then it must be from my brother, Tren-ye. He said that he was going to head towards Grundlebriar, so it must be Ufkim's collective."
"If it's Ufkim, then this is a sample for a future harvest." Wen-ci held up the blood corn so it caught a stray ray of sunshine. "The color is remarkable. So deep and pure."
"And you don't leave the Institute for longer than a day," Shal-ye reminded her with a laugh. "We can just ask Tren-ye to buy some ears when they ripen and work from there. Ufkim probably has them in a fast-gro box."
"Knowing Serene, she's built a fast-gro greenhouse by now," Wen-ci muttered with a roll of her eyes. "I still have to listen to the gardeners' grumbles about losing her to marriage."
"Orcs tend to marry young," Shal-ye said with a shrug. "Plus, they look down on children before marriage, says it shows a lack of dedication."
"Different species, different traditions," Wen-ci absently said, turning back to Parker. "I bet Kali-ye could make the best vegetarian dish with this."
"And no one is getting this until I show it to Mother," Shal-ye said, gently prying the corn cob out of Wen-ci's grasp. "This is going to be a sensation once it's fully released."
Wen-ci sighed as Shal-ye tucked the corn cob into the little bag hanging at her waist. She knew from long acquaintance that once Shal-ye decided her mother needed to see something, there was no changing her mind.
"Now, let's go see the ghastens before you go back to the Institute," Shal-ye said cheerfully. She glanced at Parker-ye who was now rummaging through a pile of stuff near the far wall. "Parker-ye! We're going to see the herd!"
"Fine, fine, go, but watch out for Nero. I think a few of the cows are pregnant, and he's been a bit protective," Parker-ye called back, waving them off with one hand.
"You even have pregnant ones," Wen-ci exclaimed in surprise as they left Parker-ye's little workshop.
"Didn't I mention that my father is absolutely ga-ga over him? He's been clamoring for Parker-ye to change his profession to rancher for days now," Shal-ye said.
The two strolled down the lane towards the Prime pasture. Soon, they approached an elaborately carved wooden fence that glowed with varnish and protective runes. Beyond it, a large herd of animals grazed on the emerald green grass.
"You even changed the grass?" Wen-ci asked with amusement.
"Those are premium ghastens right there, premium!" Shal-ye said, running a hand over the gate. "I'm not taking you further. If Nero gets nasty, there's no saving either you or I. Mother might even let us suffer for a day before sending for healers." Shal-ye sighed. "It's a pity that my status is lower than a ghasten bull's."
"Just for now," Wen-ci replied, laughing.
The laugher choked in her throat as a massive ghasten bull loomed next to the fence, watching her with a wary, assessing gaze. She swallowed as it leaned its head over the gate, displaying silently its size. The gate came up to chest height for her and Shal-ye.
"Nice Nero," Shal-ye said, earning herself a disdainful snort before the ghasten bull turned its attention back to Wen-ci.
"You're the bull in the picture," Wen-ci breathed, not blinking. At her words, the bull pulled back slightly. "You understand me?"
The bull huffed, turning away from the gate. Then it paused, posturing with the herd behind it. Wen-ci grinned at it.
"Aren't you a handsome one?" Wen-ci cooed.
"Insane, you're both insane," Shal-ye said. The bull and Wen-ci gave her the same blank look. "Ignore me. Just being a silly wench, I am."
"Such a gorgeous ghasten you are," Wen-ci said with a roll of her eyes towards Shal-ye.
Nero snorted. Then he proudly lifted his head, showing off his classic lines. One long ear slowly cocked Wen-ci's way.
Wen-ci bit back a laugh.
"Such a gorgeous specimen of ghasten you are," Wen-ci said obligingly. "Look at all those lovely, strong muscles. Look at that glistening coat. Look at those perfect ears."
Nero snorted. Then it turned and slowly swayed back towards the main herd.
"Look at the very vain bull," Shal-ye grumbled in a low voice. "Only you, Wen-ci. Anyone else, and he'd have taken a bite out of them."
"Nero is a good ghasten," Wen-ci replied absently. "If he's one of the Aware, then what about the rest of the herd?"
"I would think perhaps anywhere from three to five percent?" Shal-ye replied. "You would have to ask Parker-ye. Nero is the one who culls the herd, and I have a sneaking suspicion that he's Parker-ye's pet or something."
They started the walk back to the main clan house.
"Nero is the one who chooses?" Wen-ci glanced back at the herd. Nero was chivvying a pair of cows to one side along with a young bull. "How does that work, exactly?"
"Well," Shal-ye paused, a conflicted look on her face. "I'm not really sure. Ghastens breed fast, so culling is necessary. You'd have to ask my father for the details. I'm not a rancher. I'm happy being a family representative."
"For which the world thanks you. If you were a rancher, the town would be drowning in angora rabbits," Wen-ci teased.
"It wouldn't be just angora rabbits. There are other animals that produce the material as well," Shal-ye continued, earning her an exaggerated head roll from Wen-ci.
They parted ways at the main clan house. Wen-ci had only taken a half-day off which she'd stretched a little. Shal-ye wanted to consult her mother about the cob of blood corn they'd confiscated from Parker-ye's workshop.
Wen-ci walked back to the Institute, thinking about the blood corn. The crop hadn't been seen in the Liannenken Kingdom in generations, even for the long lived elves. She wasn't so sure about the orc territories. They were scattered and along the farthermost borders of established territories. The orcs preferred it that way.
It made trading with them difficult. The Serene Ufkim collective was a relatively new company that traded with everybody to the general good. Plants and crops moved more fluidly thanks to them, but they were notorious about being picky about who they worked with.
Wen-ci wondered briefly just how Tren-ye had managed to coax them into trading the blood corn. It had to be a new crop for them as well. The fact that it was delivered in that box showed that it was a sample.
Wen-ci came to an abrupt halt. She really, really wanted the box the corn had come in as well. Orc craftsmanship was renowned, especially their woodwork. That was because it was rare. Most orcs preferred military or practical professions like farming or mining. Crafts were something you did when you were bored or were killing time waiting for something, a hobby.
Dedicated woodworkers were rare. That box had been exquisite with little carvings of plants all over it.
Wen-ci would bet that those plants were also representatives of samples the collective carried. The rumors she'd heard of its owners had never mentioned any sense of whimsy. If anything, most of them were grumbles about how hard it was to sign contracts.
Wen-ci continued on her way, absently greeting the guards at the Institute's gates. She wended her way through the throngs of students, ignoring a few importunate questioners.
"Office hours are posted," she said in response to them, almost automatically.
Reaching her office, she stopped in the doorway. Her eyes scanned over the contents in sudden discontent. She chewed her lip for a second before nodding abruptly.
Wen-ci decided that she needed a trip. A research trip. Perhaps to somewhere distant. Especially where they had blood corn.
A smile curled her lips as she reached for her second favorite pen and a piece of parchment. The deans were going to pitch epic fits.