Chapter 511

Chapter 511: Elven Food Culture

The door of the captain’s cabin opened, and Duncan stepped inside. Goathead, who was in charge of the Vanished’s course, reacted at once and turned his creaking wooden head toward him.

“Duncan Abnomar, I am answering in advance,” Duncan said before the creature could speak. Then he walked straight to the liquor cabinet in the corner, poured himself a small glass of strong spirits, and downed it in one gulp.

The sharp, burning taste seared his nerves. The strong drink really did seem to have a calming effect. Duncan let out a light breath and felt his mood steady a little. Only then did he turn and walk to the enchanted sea chart, watching the plotted route stretch steadily toward the south.

Goathead’s head slowly turned as Duncan moved, as if carefully watching the captain’s every step. After a long while, it finally broke the silence, hesitantly: “Captain, you do not look to be in a very good mood… Do you need me to tell you a few cold jokes? I am especially good at elf style cold jokes. Many people think that race never smiles, but they actually have a special sense of humor. For example…”

“It has nothing to do with my mood, and I do not want to hear any cold jokes,” Duncan said, waving his hand. He knew Goathead really wanted to help him relax, so he did not say anything more. He simply sat down quietly, as if fully focused on studying the lines and markers spreading across the enchanted sea chart.

But his thoughts could not help drifting.

In the end, he still did not get more answers in his small studio apartment. The computer in its strange state did not respond to any of the questions he entered afterward. It stayed as silent as ever, as if the sudden image of the Moon that had appeared earlier had been nothing more than his own illusion.

Yet even without more answers, Duncan had realized that he had truly touched that very important part.

The Moon from his home world had appeared in this eerie, twisted world. Even if it was only a “model”, a drawing, or even just a concept, it was enough to prove one thing.

The two worlds he had once thought were completely separate were not as clearly divided as he had believed.

But there was no one he could share these secrets with, no one who could analyze this with him. That included Alice, who trusted him without question, and Goathead, who looked so loyal on the desk.

Duncan let out a quiet breath and lifted his gaze. He saw Goathead still watching him, the onyx eyes in its wooden skull seeming to hold bottomless shadows.

“Captain, you can always trust your First Mate,” it said very seriously.

“I know, but not every problem is something you can help with,” Duncan said, shaking his head slightly. This time, though, his expression softened a little. “I appreciate it. But let us talk about this voyage instead. We are heading to an elven city-state in the south. How much do you know about the race called elves?”

“I still remember them…” Goathead spoke at once, as if the words had been waiting in its mind for some time, but it stalled right after it started. It paused for quite a while before going on. “Ah, well, I did not have that much contact with them, but I know the elves have an excellent talent for mathematics and machinery. They also have a very unique historical legacy and some odd beliefs and customs. But more than that, they are best known for their strange understanding of ‘food’…”

“Their understanding of ‘food’?” Duncan frowned. “That sounds rather loaded.”

“Elven taste buds are different from those of other races, so they always make bold, local changes to any foreign food that reaches their city-state,” Goathead said in a very tactful tone. “So I wanted to remind Miss Nina before, and tell her not to have too high an expectation for the sweet pancakes of Lightwind Harbor. People do say that Lightwind Harbor brings together the signature dishes of many city-states in the civilized world, but no one ever explains how the elves mix those foods together.”

Duncan: “…?”

“In short, elves will stuff chili peppers and old fermented cheese that has started to bubble into the sweet pancakes,” Goathead went on. “In the end they create a flavor that shakes the soul. Personally, I think it is quite creative, and at least more normal than honeyed pig intestines and sour and spicy sheep eye pie.”

Duncan listened with a blank face. After a long moment he slowly said, “It seems Nina is going to be disappointed in the southern trip…”

…

Lucretia sat in Taran Ael’s laboratory, watching the famous elven scholar on the other side of the desk as he flipped rapidly through a pile of papers stacked like a small mountain, all while stuffing an egg wrap into his mouth with a blank face and wolfing it down.

The shocking smell of the egg wrap kept assaulting the Sea Witch’s nerves.

It was a traditional elven convenience food, made mainly from flatbread, eggs, fermented cheese, and a kind of fungus called “black finger mushroom”. It smelled a bit like badly rotted wood, and tasted like it too. After pickling, the black finger mushrooms had the awful texture and odor of an old rag. To Lucretia, it hardly counted as food at all.

But it was Master Taran Ael’s favorite, not only because it suited elven tastes, but because it was quick and easy to eat. A Grand Scholar who was not afraid of dropping dead could finish a meal with it in three minutes. Eating three of them a day covered the basics of nutrition, and all the time saved could be poured into endless research and into matching wits with the doctors.

“Oh, found it. I knew it had to be here…”

Taran Ael finally shoved the last bite of egg wrap into his mouth. As he struggled to swallow, he spoke around the food and carefully pulled a bound stack of papers out from the swaying “mountain”. The pile wobbled under his hands and looked ready to collapse, but in the end it settled again in a position that seemed even more dangerous than before.

“Here you are, Lady Lucretia, the material you asked for about the ancient kingdom of Critt and its link to Vision 001. If you had come to me yesterday, I would have found it at once. Back then I had not stuffed it into this ‘mountain’ yet…”

Lucretia took the stack of notes and could not help glancing again at the elven scholar across from her. By age, Taran Ael was in the “golden period” for an elf. He had just entered middle age, and with a little care he would no doubt have been a refined scholar who could charm countless maidens. But his habit of working to the point of forgetting sleep and food had completely ruined all that.

Most of the time, for example right now, this elven Master’s image was all huge eye bags and dark circles, hair that was a mess and shedding every day. It had once been golden, but now its color and texture were closer to yellowed dry straw. His complexion was terrible.

Lucretia had worried more than once that this Grand Scholar would drop dead right in front of her, but luckily, or unbelievably, Master Taran Ael was still stubbornly alive today.

“I very, very strongly suggest you pay attention to your health and try to build at least a slightly normal routine,” the Sea Witch sighed, flipping through the pages in her hands as she could not help speaking. “Even if it is only so you can live longer and keep doing research, you should take care of your body.”

“I do pay attention,” Taran Ael said casually, then carefully corrected himself. “I mean, at least more than before. But special times call for special standards, Lady Lucretia. You know what the fragments that fell from Vision 001 mean for the civilized world. We have to uncover its secrets, and the sooner the better…”

“But it is obvious we have hit a bottleneck now. Until a new breakthrough appears, your ‘forgetting to eat and sleep’ looks more like wasted effort,” Lucretia said, lifting her eyelids. “Unless we can find someone from the ancient kingdom of Critt, or a manual that explains exactly how Vision 001 came into being, I still suggest you take a few days off.”

Taran Ael waved his hand irritably, as if he wanted to argue but could not find any good reason to refute her. After a few seconds of sullen silence, something suddenly occurred to him. He looked up with a trace of hesitation and said: “Lady Lucretia, as far as I know… your father is on his way here, and he is coming for that ‘fallen relic’, is he not?”

“Yes. As soon as he heard about the ‘Visitor from Beyond the Sky’, he set off at once. He seems to take this matter extremely seriously,” Lucretia said, her expression a bit awkward. “I was completely unprepared for that. In fact, I still am not ready for it. But why are you bringing this up now?”

“Your father hurried here as soon as he learned of the ‘fallen relic’, so he clearly knows something, Lady Lucretia. Do you think… he might be the breakthrough we need? Maybe he knows what the stone sphere at the center of that luminous geometric body really is. Maybe he knows the exact connection between the ancient kingdom of Critt and Vision 001, or even…”

“Master Taran Ael,” Lucretia cut him off, “you may be misunderstanding something. My father is an outstanding explorer. What interests him might only be the ‘strange object’ itself. And please do not forget, he spent a century in Subspace. Even my elder brother and I have to be extremely cautious when we deal with Father. Your attitude right now is a bit too… optimistic and bold.”

Taran Ael laughed. “Ah, then which do you think has a higher chance of killing me: an unhealthy lifestyle, or boldly getting close to your father?”

The corner of Lucretia’s eye twitched. She opened her mouth, about to say something, but before she could, a sudden burst of shouting and exclamations from outside the window cut her off.

“The Sun! The Sun has gone out!”