The Cook

****(POV)

I have been doing this for a long time. A really long time. Ah, I'm not saying that I'm old by any means. I don't even qualify as a middle-aged elf. But I've been scavenging for as long as I can remember.

This is what happens when one grows up without any kind of support. One learns to be self-sufficient early on. Even if that means eating disgusting critters that inhabit the slums. Well at the time even securing those was hard. After all, I wasn't the only kid trying to eat his fill.

I learned how to remove the skin or the carapace of anything remotely comestible. I still remember the teachings of a nameless old beggar. When I first met him, I was as feral as can be. I would eat anything, anywhere, no matter what the consequences could be.

That old man taught me many things. He showed me how to survive in the streets without letting go of my dignity as a proud elf. By that I mean he taught me how to cook. In order to teach me how to cook, he had to teach me some magic. We were too poor to afford any kind of combustible.

How the old beggar managed to even learn something as mystical as magic is something I'll probably never know.

It is because of him that I became someone worth anything.

The skills I learned from him made it so I was noticed. Made me join this group.

How it happened was kind of particular. The leader too was young at the time I met him. Disguised as a slum dweller, he went to explore an area where people go missing daily. I'm still not sure if he was foolish back then or simply had balls of steel already.

He saw me barbecue some mysterious meat and curiosity got the best of him.

We gathered, we ate, and he left as if nothing happened.

It was a total coincidence as I usually do not share my food with strangers. But that day I was in a good mood as I had finally achieved a new step in mana manipulation.

Anyway, I thought it was going to be the end of it.

When royal soldiers came searching for me the next day I was sure I was about to die.

I didn't even know why or how.

They brought me to the palace. Yes, me! A filthy rat in the sewers was cleaner than I was back then.

That's when we met again. He told me about his status as a prince.

He invited me to join him. Said something about needing a cook. Something about not trusting the ones that found him by themselves to offer their services.

I can still remember how flabbergasted I was. At the exact time, I realized I fed royalty something so unappetizing and frankly gross. Getting beheaded would have been a light punishment, yet there I was being offered a job.

It made no sense at all, but I took the opportunity. It was either that or eventually perish in the slums. Death is inevitable for elves, but it comes even more quickly when you reside there. Every day is a struggle.

I wanted a better life. For the first time in my life, I had something called hope. It was a new peculiar feeling. So amazing and strange. I found myself dreaming of eating good food, dreaming of sleeping in a safe home, and even dreaming of finding love one day.

Everything was going according to plan. I was the cook and that was it. Of course, I had to follow the same regiment as my colleagues. I had to learn how to fight.

It was but the logical step up from learning magic anyway. To use it for a purpose. Well, I was using it to cook already, but still.

At some point, there was a fight for the throne going on. We struggled until we succeeded. We made sure an ally took it because the leader didn't want anything to do with ruling.

It is relatable. If I was offered the choice between being a cook and ruling, I would choose the former.

For me, cooking is what defines me as an individual. It is how I managed to crawl from the very bottom to where I am currently.

Problem is something came up. Something really bad. The whole our evil ancestor is now possessing said ally and we are fucked part was bad. Anyone in our party could tell that story better than I can. I'm dedicated to my profession, after all. I'm no bard.

We seemingly lost everything, but it seems we have a new opportunity to rise up from the ashes. Earlier today they managed to defeat the biggest bear I've ever seen.

I mean I've seen stuff bigger, but never handled the skinning of such creatures myself.

The leader gave me the order to take care of the carcass.

Me the lowly cook.

I heard that since the day I joined a prince I became an artisan no one would voluntarily antagonize.

The first time I heard someone say to be careful not to make an enemy of the powerful Myrdin I started wondering if some guy had the same name as me.

I was confused for a while until I finally understood that they feared my connection to the leader. A simple word of mine while I serve dinner could have potentially affected their career is what they were probably thinking.

Not that I or the leader are this kind of people in the first place.

I lost all of that prestige when we were driven out, but it doesn't matter.

As long as I can do my job I will be happy.

If anything I do have one regret.

It is that I probably won't ever see the old beggar again. Actually, I'm not even sure if he was truly one. He smelled and looked like one but it might have been an elaborate disguise.

I tried many times to find him when I was serving the royal palace but without success.

Now, chances are I won't ever see our old home again.

As I busy myself working on my assigned task, Travan comes swaggering in. As usual, he talks way too much. I tell him to go away. Of course, he keeps talking so I threaten him with Rhinnase's name. It works and he leaves me alone.

A while later I see him enter the only house on the base.

The one that belongs to that spiritual bean. Truly a magical thing.

I'm still not sure, but either way, I don't think I'm allowed to try and cook it.

I keep working diligently. That's when I hear maniacal laughter.

I see Travan rush out of it seemingly having gone insane.

What the heck happened in there?!

From now on I think I'll stay as far away from both Travan and that house.

Yep, should be for the best.

But for now, time to keep working.

Until the bear's meat is completely processed and packaged, I won't rest.

Hopefully, no weirdo comes disturbing me again.