Chương 544: Chapter Five Hundred and Twenty-Nine - I Scream, You Scream, We All Scream, For Poutine

It was early evening when we left the library. It wasn't shutting its doors yet or anything, but the lanternmen were going around outside, lighting the lamposts that lined the streets even as the sky started to darken at a rapid rate. If we wanted to make it back to the Beaver before it was completely dark out, we had to leave right then and there. So we did, but not before I said goodbye to Ophelia and the older grenoil lady at the counter. We decided not to sign out any of the books we'd scoured through.

Mostly because if we were leaving soon, then we might come back to Port Royal in the distant future to discover a team of miffed librarians waiting for us at the docks. Instead, we took notes where we could, and Ophelia came over with a stack of loose-leaf and copied entire pages and sections of books over instantly. It wasn't a perfect copy—the ink was kind of pale looking—but it was still a very impressive use of a skill.

So, we left the library with a stack of notes shoved into a small bag that Desiree had with her, and started to make our way over to the Beaver.

"Should we grab something to eat?" I asked.

"Could use a bite," Calamity said.

"Ah, sorry, I meant more like... something to cook with the others once we get back home," I said.

"Oh." Calamity pouted a little, then shrugged.

"I guess. Did you have anything in mind?"

"Well, it's a little chilly. So maybe some sort of stew? Or a nice warm veggie soup? We can grab some bread on the way, something nice and fresh." Fresh bread was so yummy it was scary.

"Broccoli, you hail from a land that is more distant than even the furthest isle on this green dirt," Desiree said.

"Are there not any foods from your home that you yearn for you could prepare for us?"

"Oh!" I said. That was a very neat idea.

"I guess so! I can't think of anything... well, I guess fast food?"

"Fast food?" Calamity asked.

"I have experience with that. You mean like flash gazelles and stuff, right?"

"No, no," I said with a giggle.

"It's food that you buy in places that make lots of food very quickly. So it's ready... fastly? Anyway, it's not good food, but it's sometimes not too expensive and it's usually fast."

"Like a vendor stall?" Calamity asked.

"Kinda!" I agreed.

"Now... burgers might be popular, but I think the beef would give me tummy-aches now. Oh! Fries! I bet I could make some of those if we find some potatoes. I don't know if they sell cheese curds around here, but I think I can whip up some gravy, that's half a poutine!"

"Half a what?"

"Poutine. You start by cutting potatoes into little strips and then deep frying them in oil..." I rambled on as we made our way through the city, though we stopped by a bustling little general store along the way with a market next to it where a nice old grenoil was selling locally-farmed vegetables and a few cooking necessities. So, when we made our way back to the Beaver, it was with a few bags filled with fresh produce.

Unfortunately, it started to snow quite heavily on the way back, and as the wind picked up, it made the walk to the Beaver a little unpleasant and hard to fill with chatter and talk. I really did need to invest in better winter gear. Like... big comfy boots.

I saw some grenoil with their feet wrapped in furs-topped sandals that looked kind of goofy over their wide feet, but also very warm, and it made me a little envious as I trudged along on a road that started with ankle-height snow and soon had snow up to my lower calf.

"Home!" I cheered as we made it to the docks. The Beaver looked cozy and inviting, a yellow glow coming from its portholes. Snow melted as it landed on the warm ship, rivulets of water running down the side and freezing into glittering icicles that hung from the hulls. We maybe needed to insulate the ship better, actually, if so much heat was slipping through the walls.

"Home!" Calamity said.

"I hope that food of yours is easy to make because I'm starving." I laughed, the good cheer helping me bounce up the gangplank past two sylph guards who stoically ignored the snow piling up on their heads. I supposed that made sense. The sylph lived high up on mountaintops and were probably used to a bit of a chill. Once inside the Beaver, I stomped my feet a few times to shake the snow off my Mary Janes, then hurried over to the kitchen to put down our supplies.

It was warm inside, a little steamy even, and I wasn't the only one who noticed. Calamity peeled off his coat with a dramatic sigh.

"I think my fur is still wet under this," he complained.

"Might need to dry off before I help with anything." This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Desiree, still wrapped in her layers, simply nodded.

"I will be in my quarters until the meal is ready." That left me with an armful of groceries and no immediate helpers. I didn't have to wait long, though. Amaryllis was already in the kitchen when I arrived, perched on a stool and nursing a cup of tea while she read through some documents. She barely looked up as I clattered onto the counter.

"You bought food?" she asked.

"Yup! Hungry?" Amaryllis looked up at that, then shrugged a shoulder.

"I could eat," she said.

"It's finally warm enough to move. There was a terrible chill earlier, but Awen has been tinkering around the ship and we worked out a way to warm it up."

"Oh, it is nice in here," I said.

"Any fire danger?"

"What? No, of course not," she said.

"What are we cooking?" I grinned.

'We' meant she'd help, right?

"We're making fries and gravy! And a veggie soup! Something nice and warm and tasty... I hope. And maybe not too long to cook." She sniffed, then took another sip of her tea.

"If you need my help, I'll consider it. But only if you promise not to make a mess." I grinned at her.

"I don't have S-Rank Cleaning for nothing, you know."

"I thought it was to compensate for being such a mess?" With that, I got to work. The first order of business was prepping the potatoes. I started scrubbing them down in the sink while Amaryllis watched. I thought she'd go back to her reading, but instead, she sighed, set her papers aside, and joined me.

"If you're making something new, I'd rather ensure it's edible," she said, grabbing a peeler. I bounced a little in place.

"You're the best, Amaryllis!"

"Obviously," she muttered, rolling her eyes. But I caught the tiny flicker of amusement in her huff. As we peeled and chopped, I decided to bring up what I'd been reading.

"So, I found out some cool things about the Black Avatars."

"Oh?" she asked.

"The search wasn't fruitless, then?"

"Not at all! There's this book by some historian, a grenoil who I think lives in Deepmarsh? He did a lot of research on them. Maybe we should visit him, actually, there might be more that wasn't in his book. Anyway, I didn't read the whole thing, but it sounds like the black Avatars were kind of like us." Amaryllis blinked owlishly at that.

"Like us?" she asked.

"They were higher-levelled than most people, and they went around trying to help. No airship, though, but still. They were all kinds of different species too." She nodded.

"That is how the stories tend to portray them."

"Yeah, and there's this cool account of them fighting the entire city guard of Port Hazel, which almost sounded like something we could've done, you know?" I kept slicing the potatoes into strips, and it took me a moment to realize Amaryllis had gone silent. I glanced over at her. She was staring at me in total confusion.

"Uh--" I started.

"Broccoli," she interrupted me.

"This... account. It sounds like you're talking about something that actually happened."

"Um... well. Assuming the author was telling the truth, I think it did."

"Broccoli, the Black Avatars are fairy tales."

"I know, but I think they might also have been real." Amaryllis held my gaze for a long moment before sighing wearily.

"Knowing the stuff we keep getting mixed up in, I guess I should've expected that."

"Yeah, getting mixed up in crazy stuff is another way they were like us!" I said.

"But they wear all-black, which sounds real annoying in the summer. Also, it's a bit edgy?"

"Edgy?" Amaryllis asked.

"As in... sharp but also embarrassingly awkward? Your translation came across strangely there." I nodded.

"Yeah, both of those. Anyway! I think they might have been fighting against rogue dungeons."

"Rogue dungeons?" Amaryllis asked.

"I don't think there's such a thing. Root-cursed dungeons aside."

"But it is possible, right?" I asked.

"Maybe the Evil Roots are an older problem than we thought?"

"It's possible," Amaryllis said.

"But if so, I think I would have heard of them by now. Even the king of Sylphfree seemed unaware of them, and I'd expect a head of state to be aware of such a threat, at least."

"So it's a mystery!" I cheered. Amaryllis glared at me, then sighed.

"We... might actually have to research this with more depth. You mentioned that historian lived in Deepmarsh?"

"Yup," I said.

"Well, that's a day's flight from here. Less if the winds are favourable. I suppose it couldn't hurt to speak to him directly."