The faint glow of dawn crept over the horizon as Kaito walked through the cobblestone streets of Velin, his breath visible in the crisp morning air. The market was still quiet, with only a few merchants setting up their stalls. Today, he'd decided it was time to see if his skills as a chef could translate to this strange new world.
With the few coins he'd earned from helping Garrek, the dwarf vendor, the previous day, Kaito carefully selected ingredients. He picked up a bundle of sundew herbs, their leaves glistening with a faintly sweet dew. A vendor handed him a pouch of fire pepper flakes, which radiated warmth even through the thin cloth. His final purchase was a cut of griffboar loin, marbled with streaks of fat that promised a rich, juicy flavor.
He smiled to himself as he imagined the possibilities.
Kaito found himself back at Garrek's stall, which the dwarf had generously offered for his use. It was a simple setup—just a fire pit, a cast-iron pan, and a few basic utensils—but Kaito's excitement grew as he set everything in place. Cooking wasn't just about food for him; it was a form of art, a way to express himself when words failed.
He started by slicing the griffboar loin into even medallions, each piece thick enough to hold its juices but thin enough to cook quickly. The meat had a faintly earthy aroma, reminding him of venison but with a slightly spicy undertone.
Next, he prepared a marinade. Using a mortar and pestle, he ground the sundew herbs into a fragrant paste, mixing in a pinch of fire pepper flakes for heat and a drizzle of golden nectar he'd traded for earlier—a honey-like substance with a faint citrus tang. He massaged the marinade into the meat, ensuring each piece was thoroughly coated.
While the meat rested, Kaito turned his attention to a side dish. He had purchased a sack of cloud potatoes, pale and fluffy vegetables that resembled oversized marshmallows. He peeled and diced them, tossing the chunks into a pot of boiling water. As they cooked, their subtle sweetness filled the air, mixing with the smoky scent of the fire.
When the potatoes softened, Kaito mashed them with a wooden spoon, adding a splash of cream from a pitcher Garrek had lent him. The cream was richer than anything he'd ever tasted, with a buttery flavor that paired perfectly with the potatoes' sweetness. He finished the mash with a sprinkle of crushed sun salt, a golden mineral that added both flavor and a faint sparkle.
Finally, it was time to cook the meat. Kaito heated the cast-iron pan until it was scorching, adding a dollop of rendered drakefat to the surface. The fat sizzled instantly, releasing a savory aroma that made his mouth water.
He laid the medallions into the pan, each piece searing with a satisfying hiss. The fire pepper flakes in the marinade caramelized, creating a crispy, golden crust that crackled as he flipped the meat. The griffboar's natural juices mingled with the drakefat, forming a rich, aromatic base.
As the medallions rested, Kaito poured a splash of emberfruit wine into the pan, deglazing it and scraping up the browned bits. The wine reduced quickly, thickening into a glossy sauce with hints of fruit and smoke.
By the time he plated everything, a small crowd had gathered, drawn by the irresistible aroma. Sylvia was among them, her arms crossed and her sharp eyes fixed on him.
"What's this?" she asked, arching a silver eyebrow.
Kaito set the plate on the counter, his hands steady despite the growing audience. "Griffboar medallions with sundew glaze, served with cloud potato mash."
Sylvia looked skeptical but curious. She picked up a fork and cut into one of the medallions, revealing the juicy, perfectly cooked interior. The meat glistened, the marinade forming a thin, flavorful crust around the edges.
She took a bite, her expression guarded. Then, her eyes widened.
The griffboar was tender and rich, its natural gaminess balanced by the sweetness of the sundew herbs and the subtle heat of the fire pepper flakes. The glaze added a complexity that lingered on the tongue, a blend of citrus and smoky notes that danced with every bite. The cloud potato mash provided the perfect counterpoint, its light sweetness and creamy texture melting in her mouth like a comforting whisper.
"This…" Sylvia began, swallowing. "This is incredible."
The crowd murmured in agreement as others stepped forward to sample the dish. Even Garrek, notoriously picky about his food, clapped Kaito on the back. "Lad, you've got a gift," the dwarf said, his voice full of admiration.
Kaito felt a warmth rise in his chest, a mix of pride and relief. For the first time in years, he felt like himself again.
Sylvia set her fork down, fixing him with an appraising look. "You've got talent, but talent isn't enough. If you're serious about this, you'll need more than just good recipes. You'll need connections, reputation, and a way to make this work in a world that's not your own."
Kaito nodded, determination burning in his eyes. "I'll figure it out."
For the first time, Sylvia smiled—a small, almost imperceptible curve of her lips. "Good. Because if you keep cooking like this, you just might have a future here."
As the crowd dispersed and the sun climbed higher into the sky, Kaito looked out over the bustling market with renewed purpose. This world was unfamiliar and unpredictable, but it was also filled with opportunity.
Kaito stood behind the stall, the lingering smell of roasted griffboar and sundew glaze hanging in the air. The crowd had thinned, but he could still feel the weight of the stares and whispers. It wasn't every day that someone stumbled into the market and served food that silenced even the harshest critics.
Garrek leaned on the edge of the stall, picking at his teeth with a small bone. "You've got something special, lad," the dwarf said, his tone gruff but approving. "A dish like that, you could charge two crowns a plate and people would line up for miles."
Kaito tilted his head, thinking. Two crowns a plate. It sounded promising, but he didn't have enough ingredients left to make another round. The coins he'd spent earlier had barely covered what little he'd bought. If he was going to start something here, he'd need a proper plan.
"Garrek," Kaito began, "what does it take to open a stall in this market?"
The dwarf let out a bark of laughter. "A stall? Boy, you think it's that easy? You'll need a license from the guild, a place to store your goods, and enough coin to pay off the market steward to give you a decent spot."
Kaito frowned. "How much are we talking?"
Garrek scratched his beard, thinking. "For a decent spot in the square, you'll need at least fifty crowns upfront. And that's before you even buy enough stock to keep cooking."
Fifty crowns. It might as well have been fifty thousand for all Kaito had. He sighed, staring down at the empty plate Sylvia had left behind.
"Don't look so defeated," Garrek said, slapping Kaito on the back. "You've got talent, and talent has a way of drawing opportunities. Keep cooking, lad. You'll find a way."
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, Kaito finished cleaning the stall and returned the borrowed utensils to Garrek. With nothing else to do, he decided to explore more of the village.
The streets grew quieter as night fell, lanterns casting a warm glow over the cobblestones. Kaito passed by a row of small houses, their windows glowing softly with firelight, and finally found himself at the edge of the village. Beyond the last house lay a sprawling meadow, its tall grass swaying gently in the evening breeze.
He sat down on a weathered log, staring up at the unfamiliar constellations in the night sky. The air was cooler here, filled with the scent of wildflowers and damp earth. For the first time since arriving in this world, Kaito allowed himself a moment of reflection.
Cooking today had been exhilarating. For once, he felt alive, his hands moving instinctively, his mind focused. Back in his old life, everything had been routine, predictable, and suffocating. But here, in this strange world, every moment was filled with possibility.
"Lost in thought?"
Kaito turned to see Sylvia approaching, her silver hair catching the moonlight. She moved with a quiet confidence, her steps barely audible on the grass.
"A little," Kaito admitted.
Sylvia sat down beside him, her gaze fixed on the horizon. For a while, neither of them spoke.
"You handled yourself well today," she said finally. "That wasn't just cooking. That was art."
Kaito chuckled softly. "Thanks. But I still have a long way to go."
Sylvia glanced at him. "Do you have a plan? Or are you just winging it?"
He hesitated. "I'm figuring it out as I go. I want to start a business—maybe a stall or a small restaurant. But fifty crowns…" He trailed off, shaking his head.
Sylvia smirked. "Fifty crowns isn't impossible. Not if you're willing to take risks."
Kaito raised an eyebrow. "What kind of risks?"
She leaned back, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Velin isn't the only place in the region. Travelers pass through here all the time, but the real money is out there." She gestured toward the dark expanse beyond the village. "Small towns, trade routes, even adventurers' camps. They're always looking for good food. You could set up a temporary stall, sell a few plates, and move on before anyone asks too many questions."
Kaito considered her words. Traveling could be dangerous, but it would also give him access to new ingredients and a wider audience. It wasn't the safe, predictable option—but then again, he wasn't looking for safe anymore.
"Let me guess," he said, glancing at her. "You've got a job in mind already."
Sylvia shrugged, a sly smile playing on her lips. "Maybe. I know of a caravan leaving tomorrow morning. They're heading toward the trade city of Lysmar. Big markets, plenty of opportunities to make money if you're clever."
"And you're going with them?"
"I was planning on it," she said. "They're paying for extra protection, and I could use the coin."
Kaito hesitated. The thought of leaving Velin so soon made him uneasy, but the idea of staying and doing nothing was worse. If he was going to make something of himself here, he needed to take a leap of faith.
"I'll go," he said finally.
Sylvia nodded, as if she'd expected his answer. "Good. Meet me at the eastern gate at dawn. And bring your cooking supplies. You're going to need them."
As she stood and walked away, Kaito stared out at the horizon, the faint glow of moonlight illuminating the path ahead. This world was still strange and unfamiliar, but he was starting to find his footing.
For the first time in years, Kaito felt a sense of purpose. And he wasn't going to let it slip away.