You might think that after such a busy day, a father would let his son rest.

  ?You would be wrong.

  ?Oliver was relentless. He seemed to think that because I had shown an interest in "strength," I was now a recruit in his personal boot camp.

  ?'I just wanted to lift the baby,' I thought, glaring at his back. 'Not wrestle bears.'

  ?So, I decided to get my revenge.

  ?"Dad," I said, panting after my fifth lap around the yard. "Let's prepare some meat for tomorrow."

  ?Oliver stopped, wiping sweat from his brow. "Sure."

  ?"I need ground meat," I specified, standing tall despite my wobbly legs. "Actually, I need it minced. Like a paste."

  ?I made him chop the venison.

  ?And when I say chop, I mean I made him obliterate it.

  ?"Smaller," I commanded, sitting on a stool like a tiny tyrant. "It needs to be consistent. If there are chunks, it won't bind."

  ?Oliver’s arm was a blur. He chopped until the meat was a paste, his triceps bulging.

  ?"Good," I nodded. "Now the onions."

  ?"Onions?"

  ?"Yes," I said calmly. "Two of them. Grated into a pulp. Just like the meat."

  ?I watched him start, then I quietly slipped out of the room.

  ?Five minutes later, I peeked back in.

  ?Oliver was weeping.

  ?His eyes were red and streaming, his nose was running, but he was still chopping, driven by a stubborn refusal to be defeated by a vegetable.

  ?'Revenge,' I thought, suppressing a giggle. 'Sweet, stinging revenge.'

  ?When he finally emerged, looking like he’d been through an emotional breakup, I took over.

  ?I took the onion pulp and squeezed it, draining the pungent juice. You couldn't have wet onions for Koobideh. It would make the meat fall off the skewer.

  ?We crushed the black pepper. We minced the chilies I had bought.

  ?I threw it all into a bowl with the meat. Salt. Pepper. Chilies. Dry onion pulp.

  ?I mixed it with my small hands, kneading the cold meat until it was sticky and uniform.

  ?"We cook tomorrow," I told Oliver, patting the bowl. "It needs to rest."

  I snuck the bowl into my room and placed it in the "Fridge" box.

  ?The next day at the Hut was... educational.

  ?Alicia had apparently decided that since I was going into the wild soon, I needed to know what not to put in my mouth.

  ?"This," she held up a drawing of a leafy plant with purple veins. "Nightshade..."

  ?I nodded. I knew this. I had memorized the herbology book a year ago.

  ?"This," she pointed to a mushroom. "False Cap. You'll wish you were dead for three days."

  ?I listened intently anyway. Book knowledge was one thing, seeing the way a local expert described them was another.

  ?Lunchtime rolled around.

  ?I took charge of the kitchen.

  ?"Skewers?" I asked Nora.

  ?She handed me the thin, round metal rods we used for roasting things.

  ?I sighed.

  ?'Useless.'

  ?For Koobideh, you needed wide, flat skewers to hold the meat. With these round ones, the meat would just spin and fall into the fire.

  ?"Plan B," I announced.

  ?We made patties. Long, flat patties that looked like oval burgers.

  ?We placed them on the grill over the open fire.

  ?The fat dripped onto the coals. Hiss.

  ?Smoke rose, carrying the scent of spiced meat.

  ?It wasn't perfect. It wasn't the charcoal grilled skewers of my memories. But the smell?

  ?The smell was right.

  ?We served them.

  ?Kael, Rhys, Alicia, Oliver, Nora and the children sat around the table.

  ?They took a bite.

  ?There was a moment of silence, followed by the collective sound of chewing, and then... coughing.

  ?"Hot!" Nora gasped, reaching for water. "Vivian!"

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  ?"It has a kick," Kael wheezed, his face flushing.

  ?But they didn't stop eating.

  ?"The texture..." Rhys murmured, ignoring the heat. "It's springy. Juicy. How did you get game meat to be this tender?"

  ?Oliver just grunted, happily devouring his third patty. He was immune to the spice, or maybe he just liked the pain.

  ?When the platter was empty, Kael leaned back, wiping his mouth.

  ?"I admit defeat," he sighed. "That was...delicious. A bet is a bet."

  ?He looked at me. "Name your spice, kid. Cinnamon? Cardamom?"

  ?I shook my head.

  ?"No spice," I said clearly. "I want Rice."

  ?The table went quiet.

  ?"Rice?" Kael frowned. "What is... Rice?"

  ?My heart sank.

  ?'Don't tell me they don't have it.'

  ?"It's a grain," I explained, using my hands to describe the shape. "Small. Hard. It grows in water, like a grass."

  ?I described the paddy fields I had seen in documentaries. I described the husk.

  ?Kael scratched his chin. "Water grass grain?

  ?"Get it," I said firmly. "Please. It's important."

  ?Kael looked skeptical. He clearly thought I was asking for birdseed.

  ?"Fine," he shrugged. "I'll ask my contacts. If it exists, I'll bring some next time."

  ?Then, Rhys leaned in.

  ?The Head Chef of the Elendor Academy was looking at me with eyes that sparkled with something bordering on fanaticism.

  ?"The recipe," he whispered. "The meat. How did you make it bind like that? Usually, minced meat crumbles."

  ?I smirked.

  ?"I'll trade you," I said.

  ?"Name it."

  ?"Skewers," I used my finger to draw on the table. "I need flat, wide, metal skewers. Not these round wires."

  ?"Done," Rhys agreed instantly. "I'll have the smith forge them."

  ?Oliver took over the explanation, describing the chopping, the draining of the onions, and the kneading.

  ?He left out the Fridge. He didn't know about the Fridge.

  ?The merchants left the next day.

  ?I spent the following week preparing.

  ?I reviewed the jungle plants. I practiced with my slingshot.

  ?And every night, I meditated.

  ?I could feel it , I was close.

  ?On the eve of my birthday, I sat on my bed.

  ?'Tonight.'

  ?I closed my eyes. I pushed.

  ?Ting.

  ?[Analyze].

  ?

  ?'Three rings.'

  ?I focused on the "Blanks."

  ?a new window popped up.

  ?I froze.

  ?'I'm the first?'

  ?I focused on the descriptions.

  ?

  ?The system prompted me for names.

  ?I thought about calling them Protons and Electrons. But this wasn't physics. This was magic.

  ?"Alpha," I whispered. "For the angelic."

  ?"Delta," I whispered. "For the demonic"

  ?"Binders," I said.

  ?The moment I confirmed the names, darkness took me.

  ?I woke up to the sun hitting my face.

  ?It was my birthday.

  ?My head felt clear. Sharper than ever.

  ?I walked into the kitchen. Nora and Oliver were there.

  ?"Morning, birthday boy!" Nora chirped.

  ?I looked at her.

  ?[Analyze].

  ?I blinked.

  ?'I can see their stats.'

  ?I turned to Oliver.

  ?

  ?I stared at the numbers.

  ?Oliver was stronger. Significantly so.

  ?But looking at my own stats from the night before... I was catching up.

  ?"Here," Nora handed me a wrapped bundle.

  ?I opened it.

  ?A basket.

  ?It wasn't just a basket. It was a symbol. It was her permission.

  ?"For your foraging," she said, her voice a little tight. "You can put your herbs in it."

  ?Oliver handed me a box. Inside were tough leather boots, reinforced with metal toes.

  ?"To kick things," he grinned.

  ?I hugged them both. "Thank you."

  ?We went to the Hut.

  ?I expected a party. I got a lecture.

  ?Apparently Alicia didn't care about birthdays.

  ?"I know you're excited," she said, leaning against her desk. "But listen to me closely, Vivian."

  ?She held up a picture of a small, bright red berry. It looked delicious. Like a raspberry but smoother.

  ?"The Blood Berry," she said.

  ?"It's sweet. The village children love it. They eat it by the handfuls."

  ?She leaned in, her eyes serious.

  ?"But you must never eat it."

  ?"Why?" I asked. "Is it poisonous?"

  ?"Only to us," she explained. "It reacts with active mana rings. If a ringless child eats it, it's just fruit. If you eat it... the reaction will shatter your core."

  ?A chill went down my spine.

  ?"One berry, and you're a cripple for life. Maybe dead. Do you understand?"

  ?"Yes," I whispered. "No red berries."

  ?"Good."

  ?She reached into her drawer.

  ?"Since Oliver tried to beat me to it," she smirked, pulling out a sheathed object. "Here."

  ?She handed it to me.

  ?A knife.

  ?It was small, perfectly balanced for my hand, with a curved blade for harvesting herbs.

  ?"Foraging knife," she said. "Don't cut yourself. Oliver was pissed I got it first."

  ?I took it, feeling the weight.

  ?"Thanks, Alicia."

  ?Just then, the door opened.

  ?Lily walked in, followed by the children.

  ?They were holding sticks, looking ready for adventure.

  ?Nora knelt down and fixed my collar. She kissed my forehead.

  ?"Go," she whispered, giving me a gentle push toward the door. "Take Vivian with you."