Chương 12: Dire-Rabbit Heart Skewer

I looked at the system and pulled up the new recipe: System Dire-Rabbit Heart Skewers Rarity: Common Type: Monster Meat Core Ingredient: Dire-Rabbit Heart Description: A simple hunter's dish made from the quick-beating heart of a dire-rabbit, sliced thin and skewered with fey carrots, wild onion, and moonleaf. When cooked properly over an open flame, the meat becomes tender and smoky, with a rich iron flavor softened by herbs and spices.

Dire-rabbits are known for sudden bursts of speed, twitch-reflexes, and an irritating ability to escape traps. Their hearts retain some of that frantic energy, making this dish popular among scouts and archers. Ingredients: Dire-Rabbit Heart, Wild Onion, Fey Carrot, Moonleaf, Cracked Pepper, Sourberry Juice, Wooden Skewers Instructions: Clean the dire-rabbit heart and remove any thick veins or tough membrane. Slice the heart into small, even pieces, thin enough to cook quickly but thick enough to stay tender.

Rub the meat with cracked pepper and chopped moonleaf. Add a splash of sourberry juice to cut through the iron-rich flavor. Thread the heart pieces onto skewers with wild onion and fey carrots between each piece of meat. Roast over an open flame until the outside chars lightly and the inside remains tender.

"Seems simple enough," I said out loud, more to myself than anyone else.

"Alright," Lina said, setting down two wooden skewers.

"This time, we have everything we need. Just to be safe, I'll let you handle all the prep." And so I set to it. On a small cutting board, I began the process of handling the various ingredients. The back room of Lina's shop smelled of dried herbs and the faint metallic taste of dire-rabbit hearts. Afternoon light slipped through the small window, catching on the edge of the knife and the damp sheen of the cutting board. First, the moonleaf. Finely chopped, it called for. I set it down and chopped at it.

The pieces were uneven and mushed more into a paste before long, staining the board green and releasing a sharp, clean scent that reminded me of mint. Lina laughed.

"Why, oh why, would the system give you a cooking job?"

"Shut it," I snapped back.

"Roll the moonleaf and then chop it." I did as she said, rolling the moonleaf until it looked like a cylindrical object. Now, when I chopped, the blade cut through nice and even, without mushing it. I set the moonleaf aside and chopped the fey carrots. They were thinner than normal carrots, pale orange with faint golden veins running through them. The knife made crisp little snaps as it cut through. Then came the onion, sharp enough to sting my eyes after only a few slices. Now it was time for the hearts.

I set them on the chopping board. They were smaller than I expected, dark red and glossy, each one firm beneath my fingers. It said to remove thick veins and a tough membrane. I felt it… the recipe was right. Just atop the surface was some sort of see-through film. I followed it with my fingers to the very edge, where there was a lip. I lifted up and placed the knife neatly underneath, following the length of the heart. The membrane lifted without incident. I did the same for the second one.

Next, I chopped them up into thin, almost similarly sized pieces, removing any particularly thick veins along the way. Lastly, I marinated the hearts in sourberry juice by squeezing some of the berries over the meat. The juice ran dark purple-red across the slices, bright and tart against the iron smell. I added some cracked pepper, which I cracked by taking a peppercorn and smashing it with the flat part of the knife. And finally, it was done.

It was simple enough and, in the end, I thought I did a well enough job. System Class: Glutton (Lvl 2) - EXP 20/100 Skills: Basic Cooking (Lvl 1) - EXP 55/100 Basic Butchery (Lvl 1) - EXP 30/100 Monster Butchery (Lvl 1) - EXP 20/100 Basic Herbalism (Lvl 1) - EXP 15/100 Knife Handling (Lvl 1) - EXP 80/100 I was gaining experience, but none had reached level two except my actual class.

It seemed that successfully creating recipe dishes gave me a burst of class EXP, but my lesser skills gained me a small amount as well. I could grow and learn new recipes without gaining stats, but I suspected that newer recipes would be more and more dangerous. Lina clapped her hands.

"Alright, looks good to me. Now we're ready to cook. And by we, I mean you." She handed me the wooden skewers. I followed the directions to the letter. First meat, then onion, then carrots, then meat again. Over and over again, which I repeated at least four times per skewer. The pieces slid onto the wood with a soft, wet sound, the onion and carrot bright between the dark strips of heart. Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

"Follow me," Lina said. Outside, in the back, away from the street and the townsfolk who would be prying, Lina had set up a small stack of wood. It glistened in some sort of powder she had sprinkled onto it. The little yard behind the shop was narrow and half-shadowed, with stacked crates on one side and a rain barrel tucked beneath the roof's edge.

"Alchemical fire," Lina said as if she read my mind. She leaned down and picked up two strange-looking rocks.

"Just a small strike—" As she said this, she struck the rocks together, a spark shot out, and the entire pile burst alight. The heat struck me immediately, and I took a step back. The flame burned quickly, blue at the base and orange at the tips, swallowing the powdered wood. Darwin, who had been staring on curiously, vanished entirely. I reached forward and put the skewers over the flame. I could feel the meat cooking; not physically, but like something inside of me.

The meat slowly started to sizzle and darken, crisp at the edges. Fat dripped into the fire and snapped. The carrots and onion blackened, letting out a sweet smell in the air. Smoke curled around the skewers, carrying pepper, sourberry, charred onion, and the heavy iron scent of the heart. It wasn't entirely unpleasant. When I felt it was done, I pulled them off and handed one skewer to Lina.

"You first this time," she said. I looked at the dire-rabbit heart. It was blackened, but otherwise looked fairly normal. I took a bite. It tasted like…Sour blood. I spat it out, coughing. Lina had expected this and had already handed me a water jug. I drained it. The sour, iron taste clung stubbornly to my tongue, thick and awful, like I had licked a rusty coin soaked in vinegar. Once again, the cooking had failed.

The next day, dejected from my failure and still unsure of what to do with myself, I made good on my promise and visited Tavian at the Hearth and Hen. The inn was warm, low-ceilinged, and smelled of fresh linen and old ale. A few locals sat scattered around the room, nursing mugs and speaking in low voices. The rain from earlier had left muddy footprints near the entrance, and the windows were fogged slightly from the heat inside. I saw Tavian sitting at a small wooden table next to a window.

He looked so much like Ebbin as he stared out the window, and yet I knew in my heart that it wasn't him. Tavian, to me, was little more than a stranger. Yet I still felt I owed him… Something. I sat and greeted Tavian. The man smiled and slid over a cup of coffee. It was dark and bitter, clearly worse than anything I could get back on Earth. Yet they had provided cream at least, although sugar was absent. The cup was chipped near the rim, and steam curled up from the surface, carrying a burnt smell.

"So," Tavian said while I sipped my barely edible coffee.

"I'm glad you decided to see me."

"Of course," I replied. We sat in silence again. Tavian began to laugh.

"This is awkward, isn't it?" I nodded.

"You look just like him, you know." Tavian frowned.

"Do I? Truth be told, I hardly remembered what he looked like. We've been estranged for… many years."

"What happened?" I asked before I could stop myself. I sputtered out my coffee.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked that. It isn't my business." I wiped up the drops with my sleeve, leaving small streaks on the wood. Tavian held up a hand.

"No, it's quite all right. Now that I've gotten to know you a small bit, I don't mind sharing. But first, two questions… One: how much of himself did my father tell you?"

"And the second?" Tavian stared up at Darwin, who hovered just above my head.

"Second… What the hell is that thing?" Truthfully, I'd started forgetting Darwin was even around at times. He'd become like my shadow, only letting his presence be known when he wished to.

"Darwin, Darwin," the fish-hybrid tadpole said, bouncing back and forth in the water globule.

"As he said, this is Darwin. My companion, I suppose."

"And what exactly is it?" I shrugged.

"Your guess is as good as mine. He was a fish… not so much anymore."

"You certainly keep strange company, but I suppose that is expected of a special grade class."

"Pretty sure this has nothing to do with my class," I replied.

"And as for your father… I just knew him as Ebbin, a simple farmer who took me in and taught me everything I know about this world. Why?" Tavian swirled his coffee around in his mug. The dark liquid sloshed against the sides, leaving a thin ring behind.

"I thought as much. The townsfolk did say you just showed up one day, completely clueless about the world. So you likely didn't know that my father was classless?" That sent a shock rattling through me. Ebbin was… Classless?

"No," I replied, not bothering to hide my shock.

"He never said anything. What happened?"

"He met a woman," Tavian replied.

"My mother, if that wasn't apparent. She was the true farmer. Had an uncommon farm-based class. Ebbin, I mean my father, he was a soldier for the Kingdom of Varganth to the north in the mountains. War was his bread and butter and his claim to fame."

"Fame? Was Ebbin famous?"

"Not legendary, but yes… well-known in his day. A long time ago, of course. Varganth and Karnoss were in a bit of a scuffle. Some would call it a war, but it was mostly smaller villages involved. Ebbin was sent to keep the peace, and, as an offering, agreed to slay a mighty beast that had taken home near here. He slew the thing and just so happened to meet my mother. He was so enthralled by the plants and harvest she grew, and in his heart, a seed of love was planted. He abdicated his duty…

and refused to fight again. He said he could not see himself taking a life now that he had witnessed such beauty. And that, my friend, is the story of how my brothers and I came to be."

"Thank you for telling me," I said, "but why? You don't know me… and this all seems rather personal." Tavian sighed.

"Because as much as I disagreed with Ebbin, I felt I could understand him. Classless… worth less in society than dirt. I sense that you are lost yourself." He drained the rest of his coffee and stood, staring out the window. Outside, the village road was wet and gray beneath the clouds, people moving past in cloaks and hoods, their shapes blurred slightly by the fogged glass.

"Ebbin would have wanted you to live life as you pleased, just as he did. But I am here to warn you of the repercussions. We lived poorly and were treated unkindly, being born of someone who was classless. My brothers and I have had to scrape and grind the days away to wash the stink away. We even had to leave our homes behind to escape the bias. So now that you've received a class, even a special grade one, you should follow the path. Consider this a final piece of Ebbin's wisdom.

And with that, I feel we are even in all things. I thank you for taking care of my father in his later years… and for being there with him in the end."

"About that—""No need; Aldric explained everything to me. He told me how you killed the bastard goblin who did it. Good. You did what my father had refused to do to protect my mother. Never forget that survival triumphs over all. Thank you, Rook." Tavian turned and left me sitting in the booth alone. I stared down into my disgusting cup of coffee and smiled… It felt as if Ebbin were standing there beside me, showing me the way forward.