"Have you ever had squirrel before?" Jerome inquired as he mechanically set up what he called a small fire pit. I stood by, watching him work carefully.

"No," I said. "I've never...eaten, as you say, before."

He paused as he set down another stone and turned his entire body to look at me. His furry face didn't change but his tone sounded incredulous. "Truly? How have you survived all of this time? You must be starving, yes?"

I shrugged. "It's...complicated."

"I have nearly all the time in the world, you know," he chuckled. "A long story wouldn't take too much out of you, no?"

My stomach growled and the aches and pains reminded me of their existence. I gripped my gut, cold fingers digging into my gambeson. "Work and talk, Jerome."

"Oh! Yes, yes, yes." He went back to constructing a firepit. "So, tell me what you are about. "

Where to begin? It wouldn't do to tell him the whole story; I barely knew the furry man. What if he tried to take me back to the keep? I couldn't let that happen. Besides being unsure of how Flake might react, I might be imprisoned for abandoning my post. Would I be forced to go through Flake's brainwashing? Would I become hyper-aggressive to "invaders" and obsessed with guarding that stupid wall?

I dreaded the thought of being chained to a force superimposed against my will, ordered to die again and again. No. I wouldn't let that happen. No way was I going to spend the rest of my life at some obscure castle out in some frozen wasteland. Not when I had finally found somebody that might be able to help me find out what I really am.

"Um, Crystal?"

Snapping back to focus, I saw Jerome standing by a blazing fire. There was a pot that came from...somewhere, resting on a contraption that held it teeteringly close to the flames. He stared at my expectantly. "The squirrels?"

"Oh, yes," I mumbled. I held the tails of four dead Nutty Squirrels in my hand, clenched tightly in my fist. Passing them over to Jerome, I began regaling a tale I was rapidly thinking up on the spot.

"It started...when I woke up in a village. I, um, had a friend, I guess, who was very into...keeping the village safe. We had differing stances on whether or not it was worth it and, eventually, we split off from one another."

"Mmm," he said, absentmindedly tossing the squirrels - fur and all - into the pot. I knew nothing about the art of cooking but something told me that is not how it's supposed to go. "And where is this village?"

"Uh, maybe...four...thousand paces back?" I gestured behind me.

He stirred the pot with a wooden spoon that he'd grabbed from the thin air. Was that some sort of magic spell? What was it? It looked useful, although I didn't know how much in the future I would need to summon wooden spoons out of nowhere. Had he gotten the pot that way, too? I wonder what the spell name is and how much mana it costs...

"West?"

"Yeah....yeah, west, I guess."

Jerome chortled. "Did they not teach you the cardinal directions at your village?"

"No."

His laughter died off when he looked at my face. "Oh, well, erm, that is unfortunate, no? Was it a, ah, males-only sort of thing?"

I cocked my head to the side. Males, I knew, were referring to men. What Flake was. I'd seen his bits, before, when I'd gotten him between the legs with a lucky [Fire Bolt]. He had the wonderful idea of sticking them into the snow. His muffled screams a few seconds later told me all I needed to know about the wisdom behind that decision. "Why would teaching be restricted to males?"

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

He stared at me and then his body moved quite unnaturally. The spoon disappeared as the hand that held it slapped his forehead. Then he dropped the hand and magically grabbed the spoon once more. Jerome truly was a power [Mage], despite how strange he acted. "Nevermind, nevermind. Tell me more about your village, though. What was the name?"

"It had none," I blurted.

"Truly?"

"Yes, it was very small, and...there weren't many people there, besides me and my friend."

"A shame. I would have liked to travel there sometime."

"You wouldn't like it," I assured him. "It was bland."

"Of course," he agreed, his head bobbing up and down. "But it must've had something different about it, no? How else would a small village be able to produce a [Mage] such as yourself?"

I smiled for the first time at him, hugging my helmet to my chest. "I'm self-taught, actually."

"Ah. That explains the weak spells."

Scowling, I called a Magic Missile to my hands. "Would you like to test just how weak my spells are? I broke a tree branch with just one missile alone!"

Jerome scoffed as he added an orange, cone-shaped object to the pot and began stirring faster. "Oh, dear, the Devs made practically every tree in this area weak as utter garbage. Low-leveled Play-I mean, people would have trouble getting firewood in the first place." Pausing to add another orange thing, he continued with a sigh.

"It's more like you hit a critical spot with your Magic Missile. They're typically very weak in the beginning. That's why [Mages] move on to different, more powerful spells of the missile variety."

I huffed. "It's only because I've lost my fire magic. If I had it, I would've burned the entire tree down!"

"Good thing you weren't hired at a gender-reveal party beforehand," he muttered.

"What was that?"

"The stew is ready!" he said, ignoring my question. The furry man tossed his spoon back into whatever magical storage facility he controlled and stepped back. I watched, aghast, as the pot trembled and started to hiss as steam billowed out of the opening. Then, with a loud pop, the pot disappeared. In its place floated five odd creations. Jerome snatched them up, sending three into his storage, and held one to me. "Eat up!" he said. "I could only find some basic ingredients while I sea-um, traveled to that place I was telling you about earlier. But you will like it for your first meal!"

I couldn't hold both my helmet and Jerome's food. I didn't want to put it in the snow, either. But the immediate area surrounding the fire pit was mostly free of snow. The fire must've melted it all. Placing my helm carefully close to the ring of stones, I took the food from Jerome.

I stared down at it dubiously. Chunks of white squirrel meat and bits of the orange thing floated around in a reddish liquid, all contained by a shallow half sphere. It didn't look very appealing, but what did I know? The sphere was hard to the touch; I don't think it'll go down easy. How would I even bite into it?

Jerome was staring at me expectantly, watching for me to take my first bite. I shifted uncomfortably, not entirely thrilled at the idea of him watching me eat for the first time. I didn't want to make a fool of myself in front of some stranger. If only Flake were here to make a bumbling fool of himself instead...

Well, it's a good thing I'm not him and know how to ask questions. "How do I eat this?" I asked, tapping the side of the sphere. "It's very hard. I don't think my teeth would like biting into it."

"Oh!" he cried. His body bent unnaturally backward as he laughed. "Oh, no, no, no, you don't eat the bowl!"

I ignored him as he giggled over whatever he found funny.  I was more interested in how the stuff in his 'bowl' didn't slosh around inside of it. Intrigued, I tilted mine to the side. Boiling hot liquid sploshed over the side and onto my hand. Yelping, I dropped the bowl. Hot!

I brought my hand to my mouth, sucking on my burned knuckles. Some of the liquid was still on my skin, which in turn scalded my tongue. It hurt but...it tasted...if 'taste' was the right word here, good. I sucked up the last bit of juice, smiling at a shell-shocked Jerome.

"It's delicious," I told him. "Another bowl, please? I'd like to taste more than just the juice this time."

"Oh....oh, of course, yes, just...here."

He handed me his bowl. "Blow on it before you try to eat," he said hurriedly. "That's how it cools down."

"Thank you," I said, following his instructions. After a minute or two of blowing, I brought the edge of the bowl to my lips. Tilting it back, I took a small sip. I slurped up a healthy helping of liquid, meat, and that orange thing that was put in as well. I sloshed it around my mouth, chewing carefully.  Jerome watched my face anxiously.

"Well?" he asked.

My smile widened as I swallowed. "You have got to teach me whatever Skill that is!"

He gave a snooty little huff. "Ah, well, it's easy. All you need to do is pick up the [Chef] class and..."