A pale blue light leaked into the cave as day turned into night. The crackle of the fire burned as a calming constant in this bizarre situation. Quinn tended small slivers of meat over the flames. He had left Mary alone with some supplies, a silent display of trust, and she returned the favor by not running off with them when she had the opportunity.
Quinn had hunted down an Ancestral Deer, a common creature in most of these worlds, one that seemed to have some connection to a long-dead god. Quinn hadn't even known gods could die to begin with. Would the gods and goddesses of his world eventually succumb to death as well?
Quinn took a piece of meat. It looked cooked enough. He handed it to Mary. She sniffed it, inspected it, then threw it on the ground.
"Are you trying to feed me poison, you spoiled noble?"
"What? No! Is that not a perfectly fine meal?"
Mary shook her head. "Where are the spices? Where is the proper cooking technique, you fool? You can't just stick things over a fire and expect it to be edible, let alone taste good. I should've had some proper materials in my bag." She crawled over to the corner where all the supplies were stacked, scrounging through the bags before opening her own with a soft click of the latch.
She pulled out several small wooden boxes. When she opened them, the air filled with fresh, sharp, spicy aromas.
Bringing seasoning on an adventure? I just… I can respect that, I suppose.
Quinn was not a good cook. He usually bought meals at taverns, ate at the cafeteria of Luyen Academy, or, when he was at his estate, relied on professional cooks versed in preparing meals from all kinds of sources, whether monster meat, dungeon greens, or the like. Quinn wouldn't have been surprised if they could make a common hen look like the delicacy of the decade.
Regardless, Mary continued with her work. She was focused, honed in on every pinch of seasoning and every drizzle of some strange liquid Quinn couldn't name. She paid careful attention to the larger cuts while barely sparing a glance at the smaller ones. Quinn watched with befuddlement as her hands became blurs. At some point, she retrieved her dagger and began cutting the meat with quick, practiced motions.
She grabbed a sizeable iron pan, its four legs propping it steadily over the fire. She dropped in a small square of butter, letting it melt and sizzle, then laid the slivers of meat inside. Quinn decided to give up on comprehending what he was witnessing. Masters shouldn't be questioned, after all. He stood and walked out of the cave. The sweet aroma of cooking meat followed him into the night. He figured he'd take a breather and make sure no monsters tried to steal his hard-earned meal.
The aroma had settled by the time Quinn returned, drifting away into the cold night air. Satisfied, he stepped back inside. Mary had wasted no time biting into her share, letting out a satisfied sigh as she chewed. Quinn smiled involuntarily. With a bit of cleanup and a makeover, she would look just like his younger cousin.
Quinn sat down and prodded at the meat. After a tough decision between a juicier piece and a larger one, he chose the latter and bit down. It was rich and savory, threaded with a subtle sweetness. He didn't hesitate to take a second bite.
Mary glanced over at Quinn's… lack of manners was the best way to describe it. "Told you. Even a noble can be reduced to eating like a starving kid in the presence of my cooking."
Quinn brushed past the offhand insult and gave her a strange look. "How was your childhood? Rather, how is it? Aren't you way too young to be in these dungeons? No sane assigner would've let you pass."
Mary raised an eyebrow. "I got in through bribes. My party was uncertified. I thought you did the same?"
Quinn scratched his head. "Well, technically I skipped the process. But like I said, I survived the Shift, so I got a free pass."
Mary shrugged. "Keep your secrets, I suppose. And yeah, I am too young to be here. Yet here I am, trying to strike it rich. If I save up enough, I can move to a properly named town like Etra or Lipan instead of some nameless village."
"But you could die. Why not—"
"So what? I could die in the outskirts just by existing. What difference does that make? Besides, this is the fastest way to earn cash. It beats begging for cut-off pieces of moldy bread or drinking dirty pond water. At the very least, clean drinking water won't be an issue anymore."
Quinn looked her in the eye. She wore a bashful smile, as if all of this were completely normal.
"I'm sorry… I didn't know people were living like this." Quinn lowered his gaze to the fire. He wasn't in charge of the territory his house held, not yet, but he still felt an inexplicable guilt, like he had failed this girl.
Mary shook her head and chuckled. "Aren't you Quinn Ardanthe? Heir to the lands of Ardanthe? How can you be so blind to the hardships of your own people?" She clearly noticed his guilt.
She let out an annoyed sigh. "Ah… I guess I can't blame you. If I were in your spot, I'd be too busy living it up in my estate, attending rich academies, and eating delicacies instead of worrying about poor folk stuck in the middle of buttfuck nowhere."
"Are you trying to comfort me? You're terrible at it."
Mary grinned. "What did you expect? I was given very little sympathy growing up. Seriously, I think the gods and goddesses hate me with how ridiculous my life's been, even for an outskirts kid. My mom died when I was little. She did her best, but disease got to her. We could barely afford food, let alone a healer or medicine. My dad…" She paused. "He followed not long after. All I know is he woke me up one day, told me he was going to visit Mom, and walked out the door. He never came back."
Mary paused, glancing at Quinn. He couldn't tell whether she was gauging his reaction or simply seeking acknowledgment. Quinn nodded solemnly, and she continued.
"After that, I survived on puppy eyes and begging. I'm pretty sure I'm immune to most common sicknesses and injuries from how much I dealt with as a kid. When I was nine, I started learning magic, on my own. I'd go down to the nearest decent water source and just try to control it. Plasma came next. That was mostly intuition. After mastering those two, I learned to control my own blood. With a lot of effort."
Quinn's jaw dropped. A prodigy. He had stumbled upon an absolute prodigy. And she was going to work under him for free? What a boon. What a boon indeed. Mary smiled at his expression.
"Impressive, huh?"
Quinn nodded softly. "It sure is."
Mary took a deep breath.
"Then I found some adventurers planning to explore the dungeons illegally. I offered to carry their stuff and got promptly betrayed by a bunch of bandits. That's the short version of my life." She leaned back, laying against the cold stone floor, a content sigh escaping her lips.
"At least use one of the bags as a pillow."
Quinn dragged a leather bag over to her side. She rested her head on it. He scratched the back of his head as tendrils slipped from his shadow and rummaged through the bags, pulling out a soft wool blanket. He draped it over her.
"Don't worry about shifts. I can stay awake just fine."
Mary didn't respond. She was already asleep. Her shoulders remained stiff, her posture guarded. She had told him her life story, had even revealed her magic, yet she still didn't feel safe.
Quinn wondered why.
Did she tell everyone her life story?