When I returned home, I told Granny Qi that I would be making dinner that night. She gave me a strange look, and warned me to be careful not to burn the kitchen down, but did not otherwise object to me borrowing her utensils so long as I remembered to wash them later.

And with that, I attempted to drown out my sorrows as I got to work.

In the soft glow of the sunlit kitchen capturing the last moments of the sun as it dived deep into the ocean, as I felt I could still feel the salt of the sea in the air, I found myself swept away in a reverie.

The gentle whispers of the sea seemed to beckon to me, urging me to create something that sung of the wonders of its depths. As I gathered my ingredients, it was as if I could feel the pulse of the tide echoing in my heart, each item a note in this culinary symphony I had decided to make.

I had never felt this way before while cooking, and I had rarely made anything more complex than macaroni and cheese, but I found my heart lit with passion. Perhaps this was a side effect of the [Poissonnier] skill? I found my hand moving subconsciously, as if I just knew what the right step was to take at each moment.

I laid out what I had bought while I examined it. I didn’t exactly know what species of fish this world had, but I had made sure to buy them from a human fisherman to prevent the scenario where I was handed something that was only safe for lizardmen to eat. Most of them looked like mackerels from back on Earth, though I had also bought some shrimp.

With a sharp knife in hand, I began to filet the mackerel, my movements fluid and reverent.

I ignited the stove with the help of [Create Flame], and the flames dance to life, flickering like the spirits of the sea. I poured a generous splash of golden olive oil into the skillet, expensive yes, but worth it for what I was making. The liquid shimmered like gold as I warmed it up. I tossed in finely diced shallots, their sweetness releasing a bouquet of aromas that enveloped the house. Granny Qi also began to notice as the mouth-watering smell spread all over the house.

As the shallots gently softened and caramelized, I gently laid out the mackerel into the skillet, the skin sizzling with a glorious crackle in response, sending tiny bursts of joy into the air. I turned my attention to the shrimp, which I slid alongside the mackerel, allowing them to mingle in the pan, sharing warmth and flavor.

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With a flourish, I sprinkled fresh thyme and parsley over the fish, their verdant green adding a burst of color and a touch of the earth to the fruits of the sea. A squeeze of lemon follows, its tartness brightening the dish, capturing the very essence of sunlight dancing upon the waves.

The mackerel and shrimp sit proudly atop the pan, their colors vibrant and alive. I garnished the dish with a sprinkle of sea salt, each flake sparkling like stardust against the night sky.

As I stepped back to admire my work, the flickering candlelight and the light from the stove casted a warm glow, enveloping the kitchen in a strange hypnotic light.

I had never been much of a cook, but I knew that I had made something remarkable here. I had not just prepared a dish; I had captured a moment of love, a celebration of life, a delicious testament to the bond between the land and the sea - a romantic dance of flavors, a sweet serenade to the ocean’s eternal embrace.

Or was I just hyping my own cooking too much?

There was only one way to tell.

I had cooked some rice on the side - the Arconians, at least the humans, ate almost everything with a side of rice, and fish with rice was a staple food here. Sometimes people would eat just fish - though most people with means would eat fish with rice, and Granny Qi and I weren’t hurting for money.

I waited, holding my breath as Granny Qi looked over what I had made. Her expression was undiscernible - I had seen culinary television shows before, and right now I felt like one of the contestants who was having one of their creations examined by the judges. There weren’t a million eyes trained on me via a few cameras, but the pressure was intense nonetheless.

It seemed that my work had passed her initial inspection, as she took a bite and then nodded.

“Just the right hint of crispness and salt, along with flavor,” she said. She sat down and motioned for me to do the same. We usually did eat dinner together, and this time was no different.

I ate what I had made, and I thought it was pretty good - though needless to say I was a biased judge after all.

“If you could cook this well,” Granny Qi said in the middle, “why didn’t you do so more often?”

“Ah, honestly, I was never this good,” I told her. “This is all probably thanks to the [Poissonnier] ability.”

She gave me a confused look and I explained what it was and did.

“I haven’t heard of such a thing before,” she said.

I started to get a rush of excitement. Had I discovered a new skill? “You think this is new?”

She shook her head. “There are countless ways you can arrange words in any given language, and countless grimoires that can be made - even at Rank One. The odds that you’ve made one that has never been done before are rather low if it is just Rank One; more likely than not, no one thought it was useful and so it was lost to time.

”Right, I thought. Anyway it wasn’t as if being the first one to discover it would confer any additional usefulness to it, but it might’ve lifted up my mood a little.