Your taste on my tongue chapter 01: So sayeth the traveler from another world

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Chapter One: So sayeth the traveler from another world

My gaze was fixed on the man eating in front of me.

The moment the banquet started, he impatiently reached for the savory meat and bit into it like a brute. After he was done, he began to gnaw on the leftover bone only to completely swallow it down after. With that gone, he moved on to the coiled meat wrap.

The way he ate was too repugnant and gruesome to be called enchanting, it was more like he’d been possessed by the spirit of the feast.

Everyone in the banquet was completely focused on the feast in front of them, just as the man was.

Everyone but me, anyways. I was different.

I violently pressed my nails into my skin until blood seeped out in an attempt to resist the evil temptation.

The man in front of me finished his meat and moved on to the entrail soup. His face was mostly hidden, preventing me from peeking at his expressions as he indulged himself.

I started to open my mouth to yell at him, but stopped due to the feeling of indigestion that filled my stomach.

I muttered the name of the girl in my mind while tightening my grip on the crumpled letter.

***

Suddenly, I shot up in my bed, realizing it was all just a dream. It seems I woke up early for a change; it was still dark out. In spite of the cool weather, I was sweating pretty bad.
I probably dreamt of that because today was the day.
I wiped the sweat from my forehead and got up to get some water. My husband was fast asleep in the next room.

It’s about to end.

Today is surely the last day I have that dream.

Clear Kay’s time is nigh.

This was the subject of the letter I wrote to the royal court at the beginning of the month. My husband, or rather his health, began deteriorating around the fourth month of last year. He tried his hardest to recover, but to no avail. According to the doctor, my husband was affected by a liver disease in an already advanced stage. The doctor supposed he had just under a year left to live.
His condition worsened by the day until he couldn’t even stand properly. I became accustomed to keeping our old acquaintances updated on his condition, but at this point, we decided it was time to make the call.
The first knock on the door sounded through the house a few moments after we finished breakfast. Cracking open the door, I saw someone I hadn’t seen for several years: Saliman, my husband’s ex-apprentice, and current royal chef.

“It has been a long time, ma’am.”

As I peeked through the door, I was greeted with a kind and courteous attitude. It was the same attitude I remembered from him while I was living in the royal court. A young man I didn’t recognize stood behind Saliman and greeted me in like manner. As I guided them to my husband’s room, Saliman and I had a brief conversation:

“My mother said that she would come as soon as she could. How is master’s health?”
“He’s fine, for now. He can eat with no issues, and has been in a stable condition today. The doctor, however, says he has only one month left.”

Saliman’s expression turned dreary as he heard my words. I knocked on the door to my husband’s room and waited for a response before opening, only to find him sitting up in his bed reading something.

“…Master.”
“Oh, Saliman. It’s been a while.”

My husband put on a weary smile as he saw the face of his apprentice. Adversely, Saliman gave off a face of silent grieving.

“I heard you were promoted recently, are you well? You appear to have lost some weight. Well, I suppose it may be strange for someone like me to be talking about your weight.”

My husband, who retired from the royal kitchen five years ago, was once a robust old man who now looked noticeably thinner than everyone else in the room, today, despite having on sleepwear. The eye sockets resting behind his glasses were sunken in. The arms that once swung the heaviest pots and pans with ease were now as withered branches.
Saliman stayed silent, still wearing the same downhearted expression while my husband laughed with a cheerful face. He reacted the same even after the doctor told him how long he had. I’m sure it wasn’t because he gave up, but rather he no longer feared death after everything that had happened.
The master and apprentice enjoyed their reunion as they conversed. By the time I’d finished preparing refreshments, Saliman finally began smiling some. As I served everyone my Torj-made blossom tea, my husband calmly gazed at us before speaking:

“Well then, as is written in the letter, shall we begin?”

The young man with us was a scribe, apparently here on assignment to record my husband’s story.

“Yes.”
“At your behest, master.”

Once Saliman and I confirmed, my husband reached for the windowsill and grabbed the binder he was reading earlier.

It was a diary containing the events of his youth. The damaged leather cover and loosened cords were a testament to the dozens of years it had seen. I’ve seen him read that journal countless times in the several decades we’ve been together, but this will likely be the last.

“What I’m about to share with you is the story of an old man about to meet his end. It may take a while, though, so please relax and enjoy some refreshments while you listen.”

My husband opened the binder and looked on the strange characters written inside:

Japanese – A language of another world that only he can read in this world.

“It all started in the fifth month of the 485th year… in the desert near this village. I still remember that day very well.”

My husband began to recount his early days while the young government official penned his story.

Clear Kay’s biography, the record of an aged traveler from another world, begins the moment he happened upon ours.

◆◆◆

So this it, huh?

That was the only thing on my mind as I rested against a large rock.

It’s been three days since I found myself lost in this desert. No food, no map, no means of communication, alone. I walked this wasteland in search of civilization, but forget people, I couldn’t even find a single drop of water. No matter how far I walked, there was nothing but sand, sand, and more sand.
The intense sunlight scorched my skin, and dry air sapped away the few fluids left in me. The sand beneath my feet mercilessly drained my endurance as I struggled to take each next step. The only food I managed to find was two lizards and a single creature resembling a hybrid of a mouse and mole. I was at my limits.
My overworked legs were numb at this point, feeling as if they were stiff poles. I could only manage to walk thanks to a withered tree root I used as a makeshift cane.
My last big find was a giant rock I used for Shayde until nightfall. Yet, when night came, not only could I not get up, I was thoroughly wasted. Eventually, exhaustion set in and my consciousness started to fade.
The thought of dying crossed my mind countless times over these three days, but this time I was certain. I was going to die, just me and the sand.

How did this even happen?

That question loomed ever since I found myself in this desolate place. Unfortunately, I had no answer, or any idea how I even ended up here.

I just opened a restaurant in Tokyo three days ago, that was all I knew.

After graduating from high school, I went from job-to-job and used my savings to travel abroad and sharpen my culinary skills, apprenticing in restaurants the world over.
I honed my skill for ten years while working in countries in North America, Europe, and Asia before deciding to return to Japan and start my own restaurant. It was a dream I had since I was young, and it was finally coming true.
But that enthusiasm was partly to blame for why I was in this hell. The excitement caused me to overwork myself until I passed out of exhaustion. The last thing I remember was suddenly collapsing in my kitchen. When I awoke, I was in the middle of this seemingly endless desert.

I thought it was just a weird dream at first, but the blistering heat scorching my face and pangs of hunger wrenching my stomach made it a nightmare.

Every night, I’d bury myself in the sand to keep from freezing and gaze at the sky. I had hoped to use the stars to vaguely deduce where I might be, but I couldn’t recognize a single constellation. Aside from what looked like the moon, the sky seemed completely different from the one I had grown up looking at. The more I studied the night sky, the more I wondered if I was even on Earth anymore.

Please be a dream. Please wake up already.

As I prayed, my vision blurred and my body numbed. My hope for it all to be a dream vanished, along with my fear of death. I just wanted this nightmare to end.

Will anyone find me here?

I wondered if my family and friends missed me, or if they were even thinking of me. I felt bad for the colleagues who helped me achieve my dream, and my newly-hired employees. But, more than anything, I dreaded the thought of never finding what I’d been searching for all my life.

But, even as all my other thoughts drifted away, the one desire that drove me to become a chef remained:

I want to eat delicious food.

I opened my mouth to scream, but only faintness came. Death was walking its final steps towards me-

And then, it touched my tongue.

Savory, juicy, exquisite. No word could describe the flavor that just jolted me back to life.

The rich, mellow, savory fragrance passed from my mouth and nose to my nerves, and blood rushed through my entire body. It was a flavor that awakened the soul, and there was no doubt. Nothing could taste better.
When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the same desolate scenery as before, but now there was little girl at my side, gazing down at me. When my eyes opened, hers widened…

“Ah, uh… who’re…”
“-!”

As I tried to speak with a dried out voice, she responded in a language I’d never heard. She seemed relieved as she wrapped her small arms around me, snapping me into reality. By some miracle, I was still alive.
The evening sky that surrounded her remained engraved into my memories. That moment marked my first encounter with this world, and more importantly, with her.

Along with the little girl was a young man, older than her. It was fair to say neither were Japanese, but I had no clue where they might be from. The two seemed to have rode in on a strange animal resembling a hybrid of a cow and camel. With the amount of baggage loaded on it, it certainly fit the role of both creatures packed into one.
As I drank from a leather waterskin, the young man used a piece of cloth to shield my head and neck from the sun. It made a makeshift version of the sunShayde the other two wore. With the sun obstructed, I could finally feel at least the slightest bit comfortable for the first time in days.

After recovering a bit, they loaded me onto the strange creature and took me to a nearby town.

Some time later, we arrived at what appeared to be a desert oasis. Plants and animals adorned the town as it was built to mire the oasis. The town itself was considerably large and the buildings seemed old, but the more I looked, the more odd things felt.
The buildings were made from mud or clay, with no paved roads to be seen. Not a single car or bike could be found, instead there were wagons drawn by creatures similar to the one I was brought in on.
I’d heard of towns being archaically-styled to attract tourists, but this town went further than just ancient architecture. The citizens, technology, buildings, everything looked dated by hundreds if not thousands of years. I’ve never heard of a city in this day and age in which even its citizens live without gas and electricity.

“Where are we?” I tried asking the young man in every language I knew, but to no avail.

The feeling of relief was slowly consumed by confusion as I realized just how different this setting was from anything I knew. As the confusion set in, I was taken to one of the mud huts that appeared to be a house. I entered with the help of the young man lending me his shoulder, and listened to him talk with someone inside. The man appeared to be a physician of sorts, as he was examining me soon after.
Once thoroughly examined, the young man led me to another room with a bed for me to rest on. It was stiff, but a hundred times more comfortable than the sand bed I made previously. Weariness hit and I fell into a deep sleep.
Quite some time passed, as it was already dark looking out the window. The young girl was now watching at me my bedside, and brought food the moment I opened my eyes.
Though it appeared to be a type of rice porridge, it was served with milk I’d never tasted. It’s possible it came from the animal we rode in on, but I had no way of asking.
Even if I could’ve asked, where it came from was the last thing on my mind. I drank it all down, as if this one meal was my saving grace.
Licking my chops clean, I turned to look at the little girl sitting next to me. She was a petite girl with a cute demeanor, probably in her early teens. Unlike the others in town with darker skin and black hair, she had long, beautiful silver hair and a flawless ashy-colored skin. Her bright blue eyes resembled the ocean in all its beauty.

“Ah… Um-”

I was about to try and thank her, but then I remembered I don’t speak her language. The girl noticed I was hesitating on what to say, and took a step pointing at herself:

“Aisa.”
“Huh?”
“Aisa.”

As she repeated the word while pointing to herself, I realized she must’ve been saying her name.

“…Kei. Kuria Kei.”

I placed the tray next to my arm and imitated the little girl by pointing at myself and uttering my name.

“Kay…?”
“Kei.”
“Kay!!”

Aisa grabbed my hand and called out to me in a cheerful voice. To someone who was prepared to die alone just hours before, her kind voice sounded so refreshing.

From that day on, Aisa’s family took me in their care and helped nurture me back to health.

The family consisted of Aisa, her parents, and her elder brother. Her father, Sazan, was the man who examined me; and a doctor like I suspected. Many patients would visit to see him for treatment everyday. Her mother’s name was Karajan, she seemed to be in charge of household chores like cleaning, cooking, and other various tasks. The elder brother, Shizam, was the one with Aisa when she found me in the desert. He lived in the neighborhood with a woman, I assume his wife or lover, and helped with Sazan’s work almost everyday.
After recovering thanks to Sazan, I was able to help with menial labor and began connecting with the locals. The language barrier was an obviously large hurdle to overcome, but I was able to learn more and more each day thanks to Aisa’s teaching.
I made time to walk around the village with Aisa everyday. She’d introduce me to friends and neighbors, have me help out around town, and slowly got me accustomed to their way of life. I never understood the conversations they had, but every time I heard her say ‘Kay,’ I felt kind of giddy.
Whenever we go to the market, we use a strange beast of burden to carry our stuff. According to Aisa, her family doesn’t own one, so they borrow it from the neighbors.
On our second trip, it slathered my face with its smelly tongue. Aisa, watching on, busted out laughing before saying something:

“Dendel,” she said, pointing at the animal.

Apparently, it’s the thing’s name. It wasn’t until later I learned dendel was its species and not its actual name. Either way, I kept repeating it to commit it to memory.
Aisa, looking annoyed, shook her head and sounded it out again. Seems I pronounced it wrong. I repeated while making sure to pronounce it right this time. After a couple more tries, Aisa nodded in satisfaction.
Spending out my days just like today, I gradually enhanced my vocabulary by taking notes of every word I learned in a book binder. The main idea was to write down characters in the book and see if people recognized them. Unfortunately, no alphabets, Chinese characters, Arabic, or even numbers were recognized, so I had to use it another way.
I noted everything from the names of our neighbors and any objects to the names of local flora, fauna, and any stars I could identify. Later I came to find out the name of this town, Asilia.
The main thing that attracted my curiosity while in Asilia was, as you’d expect of a chef, the local cuisine. The market I frequented with Aisa was always brimming with ingredients I’d never seen before.
Potatoes did exist, but in a myriad of forms compared to regular and sweet potatoes were of a red, spherical type. I was also drawn to a fruit that looked like a wrung out apricot and some black-leaved vegetables.
In terms of meat, there was beef, pork, dendel meat, and various types of fowl. Sometimes they’d even sell live lizards and the rat-like creatures that I ate in the desert.
Browsing the market came to be a favorite past time. I could feel excitement well up every time I’d head to the market, especially here in this new place.

On our way home, when I decided to ask Aisa’s parents if they’d let me cook for them, a path extending from the main street caught my eye.

Further ahead, an orchard spread out on both sides, which was where the fruits came from. I was fixated on the trees until I eventually noticed a slightly elevated hill peeking out from behind the orchard. A large dome was built atop the hill that looked completely different from any other buildings in town. Giving into my curiosity, I asked Aisa if we could see it up close.

“You can’t… not there.”
“Not even to see it?”
“…Nope.”

Aisa shook her head with a rather guilty expression.

I wonder what that’s about. Judging from her reaction, I figured it might be a religious establishment or something of the sort. Maybe outsiders like me are meant to stay away from those kinds of places.

“Well, no need to bother with it for now,” I thought, and put it out of mind.

I made my first attempt at cooking the following day, though all I did was follow Aisa and Karajan to a public fire pit with a basket of vegetables.

There’re very few in town that have their own kitchens, most families have to go out to cook. If we needed water, we had to take it from the nearest well; and we had to maintain temperature by keeping enough wood on the fire.
Everything was too primitive compared to the modern kitchens I knew. That said, I’d get excited watching these women wield their knives and cook off their food.
Before long, I found myself pleading with Aisa and her mother to let me cook something by repeating the word Sãky, which meant cooking, until they understood.

Since they’ve never seen me cook before, Karajan was hesitant to give permission until Aisa managed to convince her.

I ended up sauteing some smoked dendel meat, vegetables, and a sand rat, the creature I ate in the desert. I chopped off the head, took out its entrails, then hacked it up with a thick cleaver.
I used spices, salt, and alcohol to erase the sourness and minced it until it became sufficiently sticky before molding it into balls and throwing them in with the vegetables.
Although it took some time to work into shape, the meat was surprisingly tender and gave a delicious flavor to the stir fry that was far tastier than the other types of edible rats, squirrels, and rabbits.
I didn’t think to take the time to savor it in the desert as I was busy worrying about viruses and parasites, so I was quite impressed to learn that it tastes this good.
Aisa’s family was surprised by my cooking and enjoyed it. I was happy to have slightly returned their favor. It was the first time I felt I’d contributed anything here.
Since then, I became responsible for cooking in Aisa’s household in addition to physical labor. The thought of having a job motivated me to grow closer to my surroundings, and as a result, my language improved a lot faster.
I led a fulfilling daily life since the day I started cooking. There was a time I even contemplated getting a real job as a chef in a local restaurant. The reason I put that plan on hold was that I still had two concerns regarding the food.
The first was about the supreme flavor I tasted when I was on the verge of death. I would definitely be dead had I not tasted it. However, Aisa and Shizam didn’t seem to have any food with them at the time.

“Did you feed me something back when you saved me? Something that tasted really good?” I asked Aisa, but her answer was negative.

I had one guess; my dying wish caused me to imagine a taste similar to that of a near-death experience. I decided to go with that for the time being as I had no other means to explain that divine flavor.
The second concern was regarding a particular custom related to food here. Around the time I became able to speak somewhat fluently, news of the death of an elderly person spread in the neighborhood. Aisa, along with all the family members, headed to that person’s funeral while I stayed to tend to the house. The funeral was closeby, letting me watch them make a fire. I watched smoke billow from inside the house, and eventually came to realize something:

I don’t recall ever seeing a grave in this town.

Admittedly, there was a good chance I never went to a graveyard, or the graves themselves look different. I also remembered the dome on that hill and figured it might be the cemetery.

Anyway, realizing it might not be the best thing to ask about in public, I decided to ask Aisa later.

“Where do you bury your dead?”
“…Bury our dead? We don’t bury anyone.”

I asked when she got back; I got a vague answer in return.

“We eat them, of course.”

It was then that I learned of a funeral banquet known as ganzara, a custom in which the corpse of the deceased is handled similarly to the meat of every other animal; butchered, cooked, and presented to all relatives at the funeral banquet.

“Okay, why do you eat them?”

Sensing a cold chill, I continued, posing another question. This time, Aisa replied immediately:

“Cause, from today on, a part of grandfather is going to be inside me. Wouldn’t you feel at ease knowing that a close person could become a part of you?” Aisa explained while rubbing her belly. It looks like she ate that person at the funeral, too.

Cannibalism. This serious act considered a taboo in most countries of the world was conducted by this little girl with a warm smile and emotional eyes.

I was utterly horrified to discover this, but then I remembered the day my parents made me place my hand atop the face of my grandfather’s corpse, and actually kind of empathized with the custom. I could almost understand it from a spiritual standpoint, but I couldn’t get past the idea of cooking and eating corpses.

“Will you have some, Kay?”

“Your grandfather was already eaten by everyone else.”

There’s no possible way I could eat a cooked corpse.

Aisa, sensing a strong rejection in my answer, made a slightly sad face. For some reason, I felt a sort of implication in her question, though I didn’t find out about it until some time later.
Before that happened, there was another event which became a turning point in my life. It was set off by the messengers of this country hailing from the royal castle to the far east.

One day, a peculiar group of men came to see me.

They were all wearing an imposing uniform with fringed hats I’ve never seen elsewhere in Asilia. They asked if I was Clear Kay and declared their position as messengers of the king when I affirmed.

“The king was informed of an unknown man appearing in Asilia and is commanding you to stand before him. We’re going to have you come with us to the royal court.”

I was nervous for the first time since coming here, but at the same time, thought of it as a chance. Interacting with the heart of the country is the fastest way to get answers to my questions about this place. I still have no clue exactly where I am or how I ended up here, after all.

I was overcome with anxiety and couldn’t bring myself to consent until Aisa chimed in:

“It’ll be okay, Kay. I’ll go with you.”
“Uh, you can’t just go with me…”

There’s no way they’d approve the accompaniment of a regular citizen to the royal court, is there?

“Aisa-sama lives in the royal court,” one of the messengers explained as if he saw the uncertainty in my expression.
“She lives in the royal court?”
“Correct. Aisa-sama came to Asilia for only a brief period. Our original mission was to retrieve her and bring you if you were here.”
“Yep. So we’re going together, Kay.”

I couldn’t make sense of things. Maybe Aisa actually is a princess or something of the sort, but that doesn’t change the fact that she was born in this town. The attitude of her acquaintances, however, was much the same.
Unsure of the turn of events, I obeyed the messengers’ order and began preparing for the trip. I didn’t have the right to refuse, anyway, so best to just go along with it.
That night, we held a small banquet in which I prepared a feast for Aisa’s family and neighbors. Dendel stew, fried herbs, and stuffed chicken. I put more effort than usual into tonight’s banquet and had everyone enjoy themselves with the kumis I fermented from dendel milk. It was a fun and lively night.
The next day, we crossed the desert and arrived at another town by a large river. Crossing the desert that almost took my life was fairly comfortable thanks to having enough supplies and a dendel to ride.
The river was a vital transport route that traversed the entire country. We hopped on a ship setting off from town, spent two days sailing before we reached land, and finally rode a horse-drawn carriage to the capital, Ishq Band.
Based on what I heard, the capital was constructed 500 years ago. That was when the monarchy established by a tribe of travelers overthrew an important country in the age of their fifth king and built their new royal court in the conquered land.
Seeing things from above really illustrated the white townscape founded along the curved coastline, with ships of various sizes anchoring in the harbor. One of the messengers bragged about how the capital’s considered the “bridge of the world” due to it being a key point in international commerce.

Within this white townscape, two large buildings stood out in red and blue.

The red located on the hills near the harbor was the church, while the blue was the royal palace built in the center of the capital, our final destination.
High ramparts surrounded the palace. The only actual way to enter was through a giant lion gate. A gate which, as its name suggests, has the face of a lion carved on the side. Passing the entrance protected by armed soldiers, an area the size of a small town awaited us inside, where buildings of various sizes lined up.

A sweet scent assailed my nose while walking the path to the main palace.

“Do you want to know what that smell is, Kay?”
“Hm, yeah… what is it?”

Although she asked, Aisa kept quiet while only revealing a cheeky grin.

The main palace was majestic, looking up at it alone was overwhelming.

The clean, blue walls gave off a semi-transparent sheen, and the colorful glass had stunning paintings of flora and fauna inserted. The interior was meticulously decorated with delicate ornaments, and even the floor was polished with an intricate pattern. Castles and palaces were made as luxurious as possible to showcase the grandeur and authority of a ruler to others of similar positions. It was an overkill to a commoner like me, I haven’t been able to calm down since we stepped inside.

“I’m gonna go say hi to Isela and Hattie. See ya later, Kay.”

With that, Aisa parted with us. I was then guided to a room similar to a business hotel and had to go through a health inspection requiring me to change to the formal dress of the imperial court which consisted of a white coat and black trousers.
Finished with changing, I was told to slit my finger with a knife and pour my blood inside a small vial. I was also told, after inquiring why, that it was a necessity for an outsider to meet the king. It signifies that the outsider vows to never lie or act rudely before the king. In short, it was a blood oath.

It took a while to muster up the courage to cut my finger despite having once given in to death.

Next, I was taught the gestures of bowing and told to repeat them for twenty minutes before, at long last, I was led to the throne hall. The hall was surprisingly plain and straightforward, unlike every other place in the palace.
It was spacious, but that was it. The walls, the pillars, almost everything inside was devoid of decoration. The only furniture was a small chair placed in the middle of the hall. On the other side, a man sat surrounded by royal soldiers and servants to his left and right.

“Clear Kay.”
“Y-Yes.”

Hearing my name called in a solemn manner, I inadvertently straightened my back.

“Take a seat over there.”
“…Yes.”

I worked my way to the round cushion chairs in an awkward fashion and sat down after bowing as taught.

“You can raise your head.”
“Yes?”
“Raise your head.”
“Y-Yes!”

The man I was facing was indeed the king of this country.

“I am the seventeenth king of this country, Shayde.”

Shayde, the king himself was dressed in a simple way. A dark red cloak resembling a yukata with white trousers; no adorned accessories.
He appeared to be older, but the beefy arm peeking out from his sleeve said otherwise. His characteristic red hair was long and stretching like the mane of a lion while his glaring eyes exhibited his fierce dignity and pride.

“Clear Kay.”
“…Yes.”
“No need to be nervous. Have some tea.”
“Yes.”

Yes was the only word that came out of my mouth in the last minute. The king couldn’t help grinning when he saw me thoroughly freaked out.
I picked a teacup placed before me and took a sip. The tea had a similar odor to Chinese tea. I couldn’t tell if it had a soothing effect, but I felt a little relaxed after drinking it. The king waited for me to place down the teacup before speaking again.

“It appears you understand the words of our country.”
“I do, just enough to get by.”
“I see…”

A moment of silence engulfed the hall before the king continued. He spoke at a slow pace while choosing words I could understand.

“You’re a cook from a country called Japan. You showed up in the Asilian Desert without prior notice and were rescued by Aisa. Is that true?”
“It’s as you say, your majesty.”

After nodding in confirmation, the king exchanged looks with an old man standing next to the soldiers. The old man carried something to the table near me.

It was a sphere that looked like a globe.

“This is a world model. It’s a modular map created based on findings from a sage from the west that discovered the world is an enormous sphere. It reflects the world’s structure, deduced by thorough investigations and scientific measures in great detail.”

It was evident this globe was an important piece, but what attracted me most was the fact that it didn’t look anything like the one of Earth. There were no axes and most importantly, the shape of the land was unusual.

“Do you know any of the lands in that model, Clear Kay?”
“…I don’t.”

The geographical structure seemed elaborate. That being the case, their measuring technology must be quite advanced for them to be able to generate such a work. Seeing this globe would clear the many doubts I’ve had until today and would leave me with a single conclusion.

“This suggests you do not originate from this world.”

The king declared that conclusion as if he read it from my mind. I couldn’t help but agree. This is not the Earth I know. I’ve been in an entirely different world since the day I was brought to the desert.
I figured this was the case since I arrived, but to be safe, I put it in the back of my mind and never mentioned it. Now that it’s out in the open, I see no chance of returning.

“Your majesty.”
“Speak.”
“Were you aware… that I came from another world?”

The king nodded. I guessed that much from his composed attitude and the way he talked.

“I knew about you from Aisa’s letters. A man wearing strange clothes and speaking a mysterious language appeared in Asilia while mentioning the name of an unknown country.”

A letter from Aisa, I see. She must be why I’ve been summoned. There’s one I’m not sure of, though. It’s not normal for someone in their right mind to assume I came from another world. Only the one who experienced it would readily accept it. The king, having only read about me in Aisa’s letters, should naturally conclude that I’m delusional. That’s what should be said, but he’s not the least bit surprised from my story.

There must be something that gives him reason to believe me.

“Could it be I’m not the first?”
“…Oh~ Quite sharp, aren’t you?”

Looks like I was right on the money.

Impressed by my guess, the king laughed and downed a mouthful of wine.

“Did you know the origin of this country stemmed from Asilia?”
“Yes.”
“Hm… there’s a story regarding a certain man from that period.”

500 years ago, Shadin, chief of the desert nomad tribe, encountered a strange man.

He spoke words nobody understood, his looks and dress unfit for the desert heat. He was a wise person and learned to speak the language as soon as he integrated into the tribe. He told everyone he didn’t know how he ended up in the desert and likewise mentioned the name of an unknown country.
While he wished to return to his homeland, the man shared his wisdom and knowledge with the tribe. From military tactics, psychology, and nonverbal communication to governmental organization and management. He taught them everything a person needs to be a ruler.
The tribe members who abided by his words grew stronger over time, making Shadin naturally desire for him to stay and continue supporting him, even to the point of offering his daughter for marriage.
Eventually, the tribe conquered the Asilian oasis, on top of which they established their country. That was the rise of the current monarchy inaugurated by the first king.

“Consequently, the citizens of Asilia believe that those who wander the desert bring great fortune with them. That’s exactly why they treated you so well.”
“The man… what about the man? What happened to him?”
“I can see you’re curious, but be patient.”

I only realized that I was leaning forward when the king set me straight by lifting his hand. He then gulped down his cup of wine while I drained my teacup and prepared for what came next.

“About the man, it is said he disappeared.”
“Disappeared?”
“While celebrating the establishment of the country and the marriage of Shadin’s daughter, it is said that they both abruptly vanished to never be seen again.”
“S-So, this means…”
“Nothing happened after. The only information worth mentioning is that the country recounted by the man wasn’t on the model later unveiled by scientists. There was nothing confirming that he was even a human. Some say he might’ve been a prophet sent by God. Well, the fact that you’re saying similar things now is the most important.”

The king wrapped up the story by pointing at me with his chin.

“Is this to say that this man came from another world, too?”
“If what you’re claiming is true, it is likely.”

All that’s left is to confirm whether the man came from Earth. At least I now know someone from another world came to Asilia before me. If that’s true, then a lot of things will start making sense. There’s even hope for me to return if the story’s accurate.

“Did the man return to his world?”
“It is said he disappeared. Only God knows what happened to him and his wife.”
“…God, huh?”

It’s most likely due to my Japanese roots that I felt suspicious of the whole thing once God was brought up, but considering the scale of all this, I can’t really disclude the idea that a god of some sort may be behind it. Either way, I should be sent back to Earth at some point in the future.

“I wonder why the man disappeared.”
“If God sent him, he may have been sent back after fulfilling a duty given to him.”
“A duty…”
“He supported the first king with his wisdom and served as the cornerstone in establishing the monarchy. Once the country stabilized, he vanished. Perhaps you’ve likewise been sent here to accomplish something.”

The king halted his words there and simply gave me a gaze full of expectation.

Perhaps you have been sent here to serve this country and save it.

However, I don’t think I have what it takes to save a country. Even if I used to live in an advanced world, I don’t know politics, economics, or technology near well enough to help this country develop.

“I don’t have the wisdom of the man in the story… I’m just an ordinary chef.”
“That’s fine. Aisa!”

As soon as the king called Aisa, she came out from the opposing door of the hall.

“Ehehe, I was waiting. I missed you, Kay.”
“Ah, yeah…”

It’s only been an hour since we parted, but Aisa looked entirely different.

She was applying a thin makeup to her face and pinning her long, ashy hair with a silver barrette. Her large eyes and lipstick covered lips only helped accentuate her white skin.

“How do I look all dressed up?”

Stretching her arms, she spun around, causing the gold-stitched hem of her dress to gently swivel with her.

“…You look- beautiful…”
“T-Thank you.”

Aisa looked down at the floor as her white cheeks turned a rosy hue. She looked surprisingly cute, as one would expect a thirteen year old to look. The dress only further complemented her youthful visage.

“I’m aware that you know each other already, but I will introduce her to you anyway. This is Aisa, a sakla, and my daughter’s best friend.”

Sakla. I heard it from Aisa some time ago. It’s apparently a term referring to her position in the royal court. Perhaps, it’s her role as the princess’ best friend. I assumed the meaning of her title in my head and continued the conversation.

“I heard from Aisa that you are a skilled cook. Our country deeply values its food culture. I’m sure you noticed a large, white building along the way. That is the royal kitchen which manages all the court’s food matters.”

I finally understood Aisa’s meaningful grin on our way here. I bet she’d be making the same face right now.

“I want you to share your world’s food culture with this country. If you accept, I shall guarantee comfortable accomodations until you return to your world. Nevertheless, you are still welcome in my palace should you decline.”
“I-”

Assuming the story of the man to be true, if I were to immediately be sent off upon fulfilling my duty, it’d be quite the convenient ending.

Even if that is the case, I can’t say that mine is to cook for the country.

Many questions still filled my head, but I can only accept my fate and hope for the best. Besides, if there actually was a god who sent me here to share my cooking skills, that’s something to be happy about.

“I understand. I shall do my best to fulfill my duty.”

“Yay!” Aisa shouted while clapping her hands and giving me a fright.

Henceforth, I became a chef of the royal court; we celebrated with a small banquet that night.

The only participants were Aisa, the king, the princess, and me. Princess Isela was the same age as Aisa and had red hair like her father. She has three elder brothers who rarely visit the palace and spends most of her time together with Aisa.
She seemed grumpy when her father introduced us, but that was only before she sat next to Aisa. They seemed to get along very well. Isela loved her steamed fish and shared with Aisa at her side. The menu was easily the most exquisite cuisine I’ve tasted here.

“Kay’s cooking is really delicious, too. Why don’t you try some, Isela?”

Aisa recommended my cooking to the princess and gave me a look as if to say she had my back.

I hesitated on how to respond for a few seconds before getting interrupted as I was about to speak.

“No… I’m fine.”
“Gee…”

Isela glared at me for a second and immediately averted her eyes again. I sensed a hint of hostility in that gaze.

My culinary training started the next day.

The knowledge and skills I cultivated on Earth were naturally based on the ingredients, equipment, and tools there. Thus, I couldn’t make use of them until I familiarized myself with this world’s food culture.
As expected of the center of commerce of the monarchy, the variety of ingredients in the capital was incomparable to that of Asilia. Every type of food was brought from different regions of the country, or even imported from outside and put up on the market. There was also an abundance of seafood not available in Asilia.

I made a point to check local street vendors to get a better idea of food preferences within and without the palace.

The old man with a white beard standing next to the king when we first met was Hagan; he became my newest culinary arts instructor.

He looked older than the king, but had a straight back. His cooking gestures were sharp and polished. If I may be so bold as to compare the people of this world with those on Earth, not many chefs back on Earth are as proficient as him.
I practiced the cooking techniques he taught me everyday, and once I had some free time, I’d go to the kitchen and observe the other chefs. I did this for three months until I was officially admitted as a chef of the royal court.

This was when my second life-altering event in this world occurred.

The king, Hagan, Aisa, Isela, and I participated in a small banquet held in celebration of my admission. The buffet was all prepared by my hands.
Dendel stew, stuffed chicken, sashimi, steamed chicken marinated with seaweed, wine-steamed seafood, and finally a dessert sweetened with rice, molasses, and milk. I exhibited the result of my training on the banquet table by including the most famous dishes in the capital. The party was more of a graduation test.
Both the king and Hagan nodded in satisfaction when they tasted the stew. Aisa cut the Asilia-famous stuffed chicken in half and took a bite before recommending it to Isela.
I watched Isela’s lips begrudgingly approach the second half of the stuffed chicken in hopes that it wouldn’t taste bad. Considering the fact she ignored me everytime I greeted her these past three months, it was safe to say she hated me for some reason.
Luckily, my worries turned out to be for naught. Isela ate the second half of the stuffed chicken and reached around to the other plates, captivated by the taste.
I let out a sigh of relief and set my worries aside, fully immersing myself in the food and company. Until a certain bomb was dropped, anyway.

“Do you remember the time my brother and I found you in the desert?” Aisa asked all of a sudden.

“Of course. It’s because of you that I’m alive and well now,” I replied in a casual manner, quickly realizing her question was just leading into the actual issue.

“You once asked if I fed you something when you were about to die, right?”
“…Yeah, I remember.”
“I told you I didn’t give you anything, but that’s not true. I wasn’t supposed to, so I lied.”

My eyes widened in astonishment. The supreme taste that restored life to my soul, the flavor I thought I had and only could taste in my dreams actually turned out to be real.
I looked at everyone surrounding the table. Hagan was making his usual stiff expression while the king unveiled a broad smile; Isela not quite so much.

My chest ached. I carefully asked, trying to rein in the shaking from a terrible premonition I felt about to come:

“…So, what was it you fed me?”
“Blood. My blood.”

It took a second to register what she said. She then showed me her wrist on which I noticed a little scar.

I racked my brain trying to imagine Aisa cutting her wrist, feeding me her blood, and bringing me back to life.

It was unbelievable that such a flavor could come from her blood, human blood.

“There’s a custom in Asilia in which parents taste the blood of their newborns to see if they are sakla, sakla being children rarely born with exceedingly delicious tasting blood said to revive even the dead. Aisa is exactly one of those children. She is a sakla.”

King Shayde cleared my confusion with his explanation. It wasn’t something easy to believe, but having tasted it personally, I naturally couldn’t deny it.

“I never tasted my blood, but I was really happy when you told me that it was delicious, Kay.”

I still remember that flavor vividly.

“Sakla are believed to be gifts from god and are brought up in the palace until they ripen.”
“T-they ripen… ?”

What happens after they ripen?

I imagined a plausible, but terrifying answer I couldn’t bring myself to utter. The king guessed what was on my mind and didn’t speak a word as if to affirm my assumption.
I recalled my conversation with Aisa back when I discovered the culture of their funeral buffet, ganzara. Could it be the sad expression she showed at my rejective attitude wasn’t so much about my dismissal of their custom, but something more… personal?

“Hey, Kay.”

I turned to find Aisa looking me dead in the eyes with a bright and cheery smile.

“I want you… to make me into a delicacy.”