We stepped back inside from the porch, the heavy oak door shutting out the morning chatter of the district. Elicia leaned her back against the doorframe, letting out a soft sigh that was equal parts amused and amazed.
"I still can't quite get over that, Ren, House 130 and 133 practically treating you like local royalty. After everything we've been through, seeing them wave at you like that... it really warms my heart." she said, a warm smile lingering on her lips as she smoothed down her academic robes.
I adjusted the cuffs of my forest-green kirtle, my crimson wings giving a small, self-conscious flutter against my back. The neighborly warmth had left a strange, unfamiliar tightness in my chest… a good kind of tight. It made me feel grounded, like I actually belonged here, not just as a weapon in the dark, but as a person.
"I was just doing my job, big sister," I murmured. My voice was still quiet and lacked the dramatic flair of Evelyn's speeches, but the old, robotic coldness was gone. There was a genuine, gentle earnestness in my words now.
"They paid for a service, and I ensured the kingdom's economy didn't collapse. But... it does feel nice not having to hide my face from them."
Elicia's eyes crinkled with deep affection before she clapped her hands together, purposefully changing the subject to break the emotional gravity of the moment.
"Well! Speaking of your very intense job, let's go tackle that kitchen. I love you dearly, little Ren, but I really don't want our kitchen and dining room looking like a lethal chemical laboratory anymore. A home should smell like tea and toast, not mustard gas."
A slight, sheepish smile touched my lips.
"Good idea, It probably isn't the safest environment for breakfast. Let's move my laboratory to the backyard." I admitted, looking down the hallway toward the kitchen
We walked back into the bright kitchen and immediately got to work partitioning the equipment. Elicia carefully gathered the delicate glass components, lifting the heavy brass Bunsen burners, racks of clean test tubes, and jars of neutralized chemical bases into her arms. Meanwhile, I took charge of the hazardous materials. I carefully packed my specialized tear gas canisters, volatile chemical mixtures, and a collection of round, spherical glass bottles into a sturdy wooden crate, lifting it effortlessly thanks to my augmented strength.
Pushing open the heavy back door, we stepped out into the backyard. As I crossed the threshold, Elicia's advanced continuous-nullification spell flickered invisibly across my skin, a microscopic pulse of white light shielding me from the glaring midday sun. The solar rays felt beautifully warm, completely harmless.
The backyard was just as comforting and unchanged as the rest of House 132. It was a sprawling, peaceful space defined by a vibrant vegetable farm that Evelyn had obsessively planted and maintained, surrounded by open green plains that stretched toward the property line. Down in the far corner sat a small, weather-worn wooden shed.
We walked across the grass, the blades crunching softly under our boots, and stepped inside the shed. It was currently cluttered with rusty trowels, bags of fertilizer, and old watering cans.
"Let's clear this out first," I said, setting my crate of volatile bottles down on a sturdy workbench.
Together, we systematically moved Evelyn's gardening supplies to a neat corner by the door, sweeping away the cobwebs and clearing off the wide wooden shelves. One by one, we began setting up the new laboratory. Elicia carefully arranged the Bunsen burners and glass tubing along the main counter, while I meticulously lined up the spherical bottles and tear gas canisters out of direct sunlight.
When the last vial was placed, I stepped back and looked around the transformed shed. It was rustic, but it was organized, functional, and most importantly, separated from our living space.
I dusted off my hands, stepping away from the newly arranged chemical shelf, and looked over at big sister.
"We are done, Now, you will not have to tolerate the smell of sulfur and volatile chemicals inside the house. The kitchen belongs entirely to your tea and toast." I said, a soft, genuine sense of accomplishment warming my voice.
Elicia let out a soft, beautiful laugh, leaning against the doorframe of the shed as she looked around the tidy new laboratory space.
"Thank goodness for that, little Ren. I love your brilliant mind, but my nose is thoroughly grateful to have this place relegated to the backyard."
As we stepped out of the small shed, my single jade-green eye caught sight of the expansive garden plot stretching across the lawn. Evelyn's pride and joy. It had been sitting here, thriving quietly for a solid two months, and the plants had fully grown into a lush, vibrant canopy of dense green leaves and twisting vines. I remembered the day I had handed her those exotic, rare seeds harvested from the deep oasis of the elven tribe during one of my long-distance bounty runs. She had taken them with such pure, breathless excitement, and seeing what she had turned them into made a quiet, fond warmth swell in my chest.
"Elicia, look at the garden," I murmured, gesturing with a tilt of my head as I walked over to the edge of the tilled earth. Big sister followed closely behind, her silver hair shimmering under the bright sun as her curious crimson eyes scanned the leaves.
I crouched down beside one of the large, broad-leafed bushes, parting the foliage with my pale fingers. Hanging gently from a sturdy green stem was a plump, teardrop-shaped fruit.
I carefully snipped the stem and lifted it into my palms, my jaw tightening in sheer, unadulterated disbelief.
I knew, botanically speaking, that this thing was a fruit. But its existence here was supposed to be completely impossible. In the context of my entire life, this specific crop only existed in the memories of my past life on Earth. I was looking at it for the very first time in this world. But instead of the deep, glossy purple color I remembered from my past life, this one was a smooth, pristine, milky white. It looked exactly like a large, dangling bird's egg. A literal, cosmic joke of a name brought to life.
A soft, breathy chuckle escaped my lips… a highly human reaction that I rarely displayed.
"You have got to be kidding me..." I whispered to myself in English.
Elicia knelt down beside me, her robes pooling on the grass as she tilted her head, staring intently at the strange white crop resting in my hands.
"What is that, little Ren?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine academic curiosity.
I turned the smooth, white fruit over in my palms, a soft, bemused smile breaking across my face.
"An eggplant," I replied simply.
Elicia blinked, her crimson eyes scanning the perfectly oval, egg-like structure, completely baffled by the terminology.
"What is an eggplant?"
I turned the smooth, milky-white crop over in my palms, carefully formulating an explanation that wouldn't betray the ancient memories of my past life.
"The name is derived from its early developmental structure, When the fruit first buds on the vine, it resembles a small, white bird's egg hanging from the branch. The elven tribe must have cultivated this variant in the isolation of their oasis to preserve its unique properties." I explained, my voice carrying a soft, thoughtful cadence.
Elicia tilted her head, her face contorting into an expression of utter, hilarious confusion. She stared intently at the smooth white teardrop in my hands, then down at the green bush, completely baffled.
"An... egg plant? Ren, plants don't lay eggs, and birds certainly don't nest in bushes. Are you sure the elves weren't just playing a joke on you when they gave you these seeds?"
I let out another soft, genuine chuckle, shifting my gaze away from her puzzled expression to scan the rest of the overgrown garden plot. Just a few feet away, woven tightly among Evelyn's wooden stakes, a cluster of vibrant green vines caught my attention. Hanging in thick, fragrant bunches were dozens of tiny, dark green citrus fruits, barely the size of a marble.
I reached out and plucked one, rolling the miniature citrus between my fingertips. The moment my nail pierced the glossy skin, a sharp, incredibly sour, and intensely fragrant aroma burst into the air.
My single jade-green eye widened in quiet shock.
Calamansi.
I didn't bother trying to explain this one to Elicia… trying to rationalize two distinct, highly specific Earth crops appearing in a fantasy world's elven oasis would probably make her administrative brain melt right there on the grass. Instead, a profound wave of excitement and deep nostalgia washed over me. Looking at the white eggplant in one hand and the fresh calamansi in the other, a legendary recipe from my true homeland flashed vividly in my mind.
Tortang Talong.
The classic eggplant omelette. It was a beloved, comforting staple of morning tables and quick lunches in the Philippines… a dish made by roasting the eggplant until smoky, flattening it out, dipping it in seasoned beaten eggs, and pan-frying it to golden perfection, usually served with a splash of soy sauce and a squeeze of fresh citrus.
With our kitchen finally cleared of toxic chemical supplies, and with these pristine, familiar ingredients resting in my hands, the desire to cook a real meal for my big sister completely overrode my usual quiet passivity.
I stood up from the garden dirt, holding the fresh produce securely against my kirtle, my massive crimson wings giving an eager, happy flutter in the sunlight. I looked at Elicia, my expression bright, alive, and thoroughly human.
"Big sister, I have a magnificent dish to make, Let's go inside. You are about to experience a culinary masterpiece."