Dungeon? This Tree? Why Don't You Join Me for Lunch? (Dungeon Core)
Chapter 8: Home

Chapter 8: Chapter 8: Home

They were all so strange, I could not help but think, as I watched the villagers just speak with one another.

The soup was eaten up. They weren’t leaving.

I looked at Anne, who was wrapping the stone I used for the soup in paper.

"Why do this?" I asked the little girl. Her smile was all dimples when she handed me the wrapped stone. The paper was yellow, but sturdy. It was obviously not used before.

Just something one would use for butter.

But this was a stone. One I picked from the river. It did not have the value of butter.

"For the next festival!" She said, her voice was as chirpy as ever. "We’ll bring different stuff! Maybe even a pig!"

I blinked. Well, there were a few recipes I could use with an entire pig, but that would be wasteful.

No, the fat needed to be melted to give the meat a smokey aroma. The ribs would be good to get the bone marrow fat out of. And not to mention that the skin, when cured properly, was quite the snack!

I blinked.

Was I already planning the next festival? I, who was afraid of the humans, wish for them to come back?

"Anne, do you know what the best use of meat is?" I asked her. I had cooked a thousand meals, but I still wanted to learn more about cooking.

The little girl had shown care towards a stone. Had eaten her bowl of soup slowly, enjoying every spoonful. That was someone who was grateful.

I knew she would come up with the answer.

"Well, meat makes the veggies tasty!" She said, as she relaxed against my old girl’s tree. "Makes them smell nice!"

I could hear as Theanore giggled.

"You know, there was once a girl who wanted to live off nettle," I did not know why I was sharing this with Anne. Maybe it was because the soup had warmed me up. Or maybe it was because this little girl reminded me of my old girl. "But her best friend talked her into eating fish as well."

"Hm," the little girl closed her eyes. "She was kind."

I nodded.

"Yes, she was," a part of me wanted to tell this child about my old girl. The secret of the fact she was still alive was known to just a precious few people.

But I could not.

For the king was still alive, still in need of a heart. It was selfish of me to want Solas to keep chasing after Pan, but the man could grow strong.

My old girl was hanging between worlds.

I needed to heal her. Give her a human form.

See her smile.

"Anne? What do you want to be, when you grow up?" It was the spur of the moment question. I expected something like a nurse or a doctor because the little girl had light in her eyes.

Instead...

"A chef!" she said, which was followed by a giggle.

I blinked. A chef?

"And why is that?" I asked her.

"So, I can hold festivals and feed people! You made grannie smile! You made auntie Almira smile, and she is still sad about Uncle Elmar. You made us all smile!" She turned towards me, placing a hand over her chest. Right over the heart. "I want to make people smile!"

I stood silent there, trying to comprehend the words. I had not invited these people to make them smile.

I invited them here to bribe them with food and steal the good feelings that food brought forth in them.

"Sylvan," I heard her voice, carried by the wind. "You can’t unlearn years of selfishness."

I bit my bottom lip.

"But I want to," I told my old girl, as I looked at the cooking pits. There were still embers inside. I could...

"Then do so," she told me with a giggle. I could even hear Grumpy Pants snorting.

"Anne?" I asked, for the girl had grown on me. "I’m going to start making the dinner now. Could you please help me with that?"

The little girl jumped to her feet and rolled up the sleeves of her dress.

My mind began to swim with ideas for a feast.

Something hearty, something warm.

Rice it was.

0000

I was elbow deep in the pot with the rice. One of the best ways to end up with fluffy rice was to wash it.

Oh, sure, you could get something good enough to eat without washing the rice, but it was simply not the same.

Anne was washing the cabbage.

The villagers were drinking tea. Having made their own fires around the tree. Not a single one took the branches of a still standing tree.

No, they collected only that, which was fallen.

My smile was beginning to hurt, but I could not help it. The first water of the rice was thrown away, and I poured more river water inside the pot. Wanting to end up with something that was clear, instead of milky white.

"Does any of you know a song?" I asked them, for I wanted to include them in this. Besides, what was a festival without a song?

"Does a harvest song work for you?" One man said, setting his cup down.

I nodded.

Humans were strange creatures. They sang about golden grains, about tired oxen, about family.

I wanted to finally get to know their world. It was the only thing I could think of, as I started to cook the rice. As I placed inside the cut cabbage and the carrots, I knew that there was just one thing which was missing.

A special ingredient, which I was saving up for an eldritch horror with an axe. Or, as those people called themselves: lumberjacks.

But I was gifted a song.

I took out the special tomato-mushroom paste the gnomes were famous for. Got about half of it in the rice, saving the other half for breakfast the next morning.

The dream catcher was pinging like mad, but I ignored it.

And who could blame me?

No one wanted to harm my tree, and I was cooking!

Warm and content.

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