Chapter 11: Fairy-blessed Wine
A dozen or so minutes later, Alan and Veles stood facing each other in silence, both staring down at the roasted chicken in the basket on the floor.
Yes—Alan had, of course, agreed to Veles’s dinner invitation. In fact, faced with such an aggressive, intimidating invitation, it was hard to imagine anyone having the nerve to refuse.
Before long, however, both Veles and Alan realized that the empty house didn’t even have a table or chairs.
Alan sneaked a glance at Veles out of the corner of his eye, and then noticed something: even someone as powerful as Veles could look distinctly awkward and stiff when confronted with a situation like this.
…Ah. Even the tip of his tail was tensed up.
Alan couldn’t help but steal another look at the hem of the cloak and thought to himself.
And perhaps because of the overwhelming strength Veles had displayed earlier, seeing him look so at a loss gave rise to an indescribable feeling in Alan’s chest.
It was that sort of feeling where you couldn’t help wanting to reach out and touch the tip of his tail, then tell him, “It’s fine, I don’t mind—sitting cross-legged on the ground to eat is totally okay.”
Well. Alan felt that he might be getting infected by Veles’s weirdness too.
“How about we eat in the garden?” Alan heard himself say to Veles in a deliberately casual tone.
“I know a bit of garden magic. If you don’t mind, I think I can use some seeds to grow a table and chairs—just enough for two people to dine.”
…
Not long after, Alan and Veles were seated in the ruins… the garden behind the ranger’s cabin.
A garden that had gone untended for many years was naturally overrun with weeds and a sorry sight to behold.
But that wasn’t much of a problem for Alan. After all, back when he was still part of an adventuring party, their dining conditions had been far worse than a patch of wild grass.
Alan found a small stretch of relatively flat ground and buried a specially treated pumpkin seed in the soil. Under the influence of magic, the seed quickly grew into a pumpkin as large as a millstone, while the sprawling vines and broad pumpkin leaves served perfectly as chairs.
Veles took an extra look at the pumpkin table, seeming a little surprised.
Feeling slightly embarrassed, Alan explained, “These are seeds I’ve modified… um, if you don’t mind, once the pumpkin ripens later, you can harvest it and eat it too. It doesn’t have any magical effects, but it actually tastes pretty good.”
In truth, this wasn’t some exquisite piece of magical refinement. From the standpoint of the continent’s natives, someone like Alan who abused magic this way—wasting mana on ordinary food that couldn’t even carry magical enchantments—was simply absurd. Back when he was part of an adventuring party, Alan had been mocked more than once by his companions for such flights of fancy.
“What a very elegant piece of magic.”
Unexpectedly, the silver-eyed man said exactly that.
He reached out and gently touched the plump, oversized pumpkin. Veles’s expression remained unchanged as he spoke, but his tone was solemn and sincere.
Alan’s eyes widened in surprise. He stared blankly at Veles, instinctively trying to read his expression more clearly.
It must just be a polite compliment…
Alan told himself that, yet even so, he felt his heartbeat skip.
“It’s not really anything impressive. My mana is quite weak…” Alan said haltingly.
“This is clearly an excellent magical construction. You are very capable, Mr. Alan.”
Veles continued studying Alan’s pumpkin as he added this, and it truly didn’t sound like empty courtesy.
It wasn’t such a grand compliment, and yet, hearing Veles say this made Alan’s face start to warm in spite of himself.
“L-let’s eat dinner first. Otherwise the roast chicken will get cold…”
Even his speech had begun to falter slightly.
In truth, Alan never should have worried about the roast chicken going cold. This was a world of magic, after all, and Alan had always been particularly adept at everyday, life-oriented spells.
When the chicken first came out of the oven, Alan had already cast a small warming spell on it.
It barely consumed any mana, yet it kept the chicken at the perfect temperature.
As for maintaining the crispness of the skin, that was even less of an issue.
After taking the roast chicken out of the basket, Alan pressed his lips together and quickly cast a tiny fireball spell. A small orb of orange-yellow flame wobbled into existence above his palm, then drifted slowly down onto the chicken.
“Szz—”
At once, the golden skin began to sizzle, and the rich aromas of truffle and spices spread through the garden.
“It’s ready to eat now.”
Alan could feel Veles’s gaze resting on him, and he hardly dared to lift his head to look back.
After all, fireball magic was one of the most basic offensive spells there was—but Alan’s mana was so feeble that in his hands, it looked more like a cooking spell.
Heaven knew how laughable such a clumsy, low-powered fireball must appear in Veles’s eyes.
Alan could hear that voice in his head muttering away.
Normally, Alan wouldn’t have cared in the slightest. Ever since he’d crossed into this world, people had been reminding him in one way or another just how weak his mana was.
But at this moment, his state of mind was different. Just minutes ago, Veles had praised his magical construction techniques in such a serious tone. Somehow, that stirred Alan’s pride, leaving him flustered and unsettled, his thoughts in complete disarray.
In his panic, Alan failed to notice that the man beside him wasn’t faring much better than he was.
Veles also felt that his own state was strange to the extreme. From the moment he opened his mouth to invite Alan to dinner, things seemed to have begun slipping out of control.
Because of the peculiar nature of his body, up until today Veles had always been the most solitary kind of person. He never allowed others to get close to him, let alone eat together—anyone who knew his true identity would only worry about becoming his food.
Yet just moments ago, his body—no, even his soul—had become strangely unresponsive to his will. As he watched Alan about to leave his cabin, a surge of possessiveness rising from deep within his bloodline overwhelmed his reason in an instant.
He wanted to spend a little more time with Alan, rather than lying alone in that wilderness hut, extracting memories from the dragon vine over and over again.
And once Alan actually agreed to that clumsy invitation, things grew even stranger.
Veles felt as though his whole being had turned light and floaty.
He looked at the pumpkin table Alan had conjured with magic and thought it exquisitely beautiful—quite simply the most wonderful pumpkin in the world.
Then, when he saw the fireball in Alan’s palm, he became keenly aware that he must have gone mad: even the fireball Alan had rubbed together looked inexplicably pleasing to the eye.
After that, he began sharing the roast chicken with Alan.
Veles would swear he had never tasted roast chicken this delicious before. The skin was crisp and rich with oil; when he bit into it, the juices burst forth from the meat. And yet, as he ate, he found himself utterly unable to focus. Watching the human beside him, Veles realized that the more he chewed the roast chicken in his mouth, the stronger that strange hollowness deep within his body became.
He was clearly gnawing on bones already roasted to a perfect crisp, yet his teeth still itched faintly, unsatisfied.
Alan grew restless under Veles’s steady gaze.
He must think it tastes good, right? But then why was he staring at him while eating?
Nibbling at a drumstick in small bites, Alan wondered in confusion.
To distract himself, Alan took out the bottle of apple cider as well.
“Oh—right, I almost forgot the cider.”
He spoke a little stiffly to Veles.
“Mr. Veles, would you like some apple cider? I brewed it myself.”
Veles fell silent for a brief moment, then nodded.
“Very well.”
The wine glasses were produced by Veles using spatial magic, taken from somewhere unknown.
The tortoiseshell goblets were inlaid with ivory and gemstones, so lavish that one hardly knew what to do with them. Alan stared in shock at the two cups that had been produced so casually, even feeling that pouring a country-brewed apple cider into such vessels was a kind of sacrilege.
But clearly, to Veles, these priceless cups were nothing more than everyday items.
He opened the bottle for Alan, then solemnly poured the apple cider into both glasses.
At a moment like this, Alan really should have said something playful or offered a proper toast, the way those warm, outgoing villagers would. Instead, his mind went completely blank, and he found himself at a loss for words.
“To your health, Mr. Veles.”
In the end, Alan simply raised his glass, gently clinked it against Veles’s, and awkwardly squeezed out that blessing.
Veles froze for a moment, then copied Alan’s gesture.
He touched his glass to Alan’s and, gazing at him, murmured hoarsely, “And to your health, Mr. Alan.”
They both lifted the apple cider to their lips at the same time.
“Mmm…”
The moment the sweet-and-tart, refreshingly cool cider slid down his throat, Alan let out an involuntary sigh of satisfaction.
Though the cider had only been brewed to avoid wasting the misshapen apples from the harvest—those that couldn’t be sold to the townsfolk—it turned out to be unexpectedly delicious.
The balance between acidity and sweetness was just right, and the apple fragrance was preserved perfectly—enhanced by fermentation into faint notes of flowers and caramel. Despite its fine, dense foam, the cider slid into the mouth as smoothly as silk.
Paired especially with piping-hot roast chicken, the apple cider tasted even better.
As Veles drank it, his eyebrows lifted slightly.
He understood even better than Alan why this cup of cider was so delicious—within the liquid, he tasted a flavor that belonged uniquely to the fair folk.
The reason elven wines in the royal capital were worth a fortune was precisely because alcohol brewed by elves could, at times, receive the blessings of the fairies. Once blessed, every drop possessed a lush sweetness that went straight to the soul.
Such wine, however, was exceedingly rare. After all, fairies were notoriously capricious and eccentric; even the noble elves could only pray and hope they might occasionally deign to come and grant a blessing.
Yet Alan had clearly received the fairies’ special favor—so much so that even an apple cider brewed on a whim had been generously blessed…
Recalling his earlier experience of being harassed by fairies at Alan’s door, Veles’s tail gave a small sway.
Well. If he were a fairy, able to enjoy such delicious treats every day, he’d probably favor Alan a little extra too.
The thought arose unbidden.
No one disliked fairy-blessed wine—not even Veles… and certainly not Alan.
By the time Veles realized what was happening, the petite human beside him was already drunk.
“Shh… look, there’s a tail here.”
Alan widened his eyes, held his breath, and then suddenly reached out—grabbing the long, slender tail beneath Veles’s cloak, the one lined with bony spines.
He turned his head and smiled at Veles, whose entire body had gone rigid in an instant.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
Author’s Note:
Well…
Don’t go drinking with a man you’ve just met, Alan!!!!
(A heartbroken mom sighs in despair.)
