Grocery Adventures

Owen had always thought grocery shopping was one of life's most mundane rituals. A chore so dull it barely registered on his list of Things That Could Potentially Ruin My Day. But apparently, he'd been wrong about that—because nothing could prepare him for taking Lilith Alaric, Princess of All Things Overdramatic, to buy milk and eggs.

"Let me get this straight," Owen said as they approached the sliding doors of the local supermarket. "You've been standing under streetlights for six months, surviving off... what? Rainwater and existential dread? And now you expect me to teach you how to navigate this?" He gestured vaguely at the fluorescent-lit aisles stretching before them like some kind of labyrinth.

Lilith tilted her head, her crimson eyes scanning the rows of canned goods and produce with an intensity usually reserved for ancient prophecies or impending doom. Several shoppers nearby glanced nervously in her direction, as if sensing something fundamentally wrong with the way she observed ordinary objects.

"This is where sustenance comes from?" she asked, her voice carrying that aristocratic lilt that made even simple questions sound like royal proclamations.

"It's where people get food without having to wrestle bears or summon magic," Owen replied dryly. "Welcome to modern civilization. Try not to break anything."

She arched an eyebrow at him, clearly unimpressed by his attempt at humor. "Your world values convenience over strength. How curious."

"Yeah, well, we also value not starving to death while debating the philosophical merits of hunting versus shopping," Owen shot back. "Come on. Let's grab what we need before you start trying to bargain with the cashiers using riddles or whatever."

An announcement crackled over the store's intercom system about a cleanup needed in aisle three. Lilith's posture immediately stiffened, her hand instinctively reaching for a weapon that thankfully wasn't there.

"Relax," Owen muttered, steering the cart toward the produce section. "It's just an announcement, not a battle cry."

"In Elarion, disembodied voices typically herald catastrophe," Lilith replied, still scanning the ceiling suspiciously. "Or invasion."

"Well here, they typically herald spilled milk or spontaneous toddler vomit," Owen said. "Though I guess you could consider both catastrophic in their own way."

As they ventured deeper into the store, Lilith became increasingly fascinated—and increasingly dangerous. She paused in front of the cereal aisle, staring at the colorful boxes like they were artifacts from another dimension (which, to be fair, they sort of were).

"These contain nourishment?" she asked skeptically, picking up a box of sugary puffs shaped like cartoon animals.

"No, those are just sugar bombs designed to rot your teeth and give kids ADHD," Owen explained, grabbing a loaf of bread instead. "Stick to actual food if you want to survive longer than five minutes in my apartment."

"But these illustrations suggest otherwise." Lilith turned the box around, examining the mascot—a grinning bear wearing a scarf—with suspicion. "Is this creature real? Or is it a spirit bound to serve humanity through consumption?"

Owen pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's Tony the Bear. He's... look, it doesn't matter. Put it back and focus."

Reluctantly, Lilith returned the box to the shelf—but not before muttering something about "corrupted mana signatures." Owen decided it was better not to ask.

Things only got worse when they reached the dairy section. Lilith stared at the refrigerated cases filled with milk cartons, yogurt cups, and cheese blocks, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Owen thought she might actually cry.

"What is it now?" he sighed.

"This..." She gestured helplessly at the display. "It's too much. Too many choices. In Elarion, milk came from goats. You took care of them, milked them yourself. This..." She waved her hand again. "This feels... weird."

Owen blinked. He hadn't expected sentimentality from someone who once casually suggested murdering him to save her world. "Uh, okay. Well, good news: you don't have to milk anything here. Bad news: you're still gonna have to pick one."

After several minutes of deliberation—and a brief argument about whether skim milk counted as "real food"—they finally moved on. Unfortunately, that's when things really went off the rails.

At the checkout counter, Lilith insisted on paying for their items herself. Owen tried to explain that credit cards weren't exactly enchanted talismans, but she refused to listen. When the cashier politely informed her that her Alarician currency wasn't valid, Lilith responded by offering to trade magical favors instead.

"I can bend reality," she announced proudly, as though this was a perfectly reasonable alternative to cash. "Would you prefer guaranteed good fortune? Perhaps enhanced physical prowess?"

The cashier, a teenager whose primary concern seemed to be finishing her shift early enough to catch the latest anime episode, stared blankly at Lilith. "Uh... sure. Just... scan your card?"

Owen intervened before things escalated further, shoving his own wallet across the counter. "Ignore her. She's new here. Doesn't speak fluent reality yet."

By the time they left the store, both of them were carrying bags full of groceries—and Owen was carrying a fresh headache. As they walked home, Lilith remained unusually quiet, lost in thought.

"You know," she said eventually, breaking the silence, "your world isn't entirely without merit."

"Gee, thanks," Owen muttered sarcastically. "I'll alert the Nobel committee."

"Thank you for helping me back there."

"Don't make it weird."

She ignored him, continuing her train of thought. "There's a simplicity to it. A rhythm. Back in Elarion, everything was layered with meaning. Every action carried weight. Here... it's different. Lighter. Almost frivolous."

Owen glanced at her sideways, surprised by the wistfulness in her voice. "Yeah, well, don't let that fool you. Life here isn't all rainbows and Tony the Bear. People struggle too. They just do it differently."

Lilith nodded slowly, as if considering this revelation. Then, after a pause, she added, "Still, I think I prefer your way of obtaining milk."

Owen rolled his eyes so hard he was pretty sure they might never return to their normal position. "Glad we've found common ground. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to lie down before my brain explodes."

But despite his protests, Owen couldn't deny that something had shifted during their little outing. Maybe it was the way Lilith had looked at the cereal aisle, equal parts awe and confusion… Maybe because he expected her to challenge a dragon, not get defeated by yogurt variety. Or maybe it was the fact that she'd chosen whole milk over skim because "it felt more honest." Whatever it was, he found himself wondering—not for the first time—if maybe, just maybe, there was more to this whole hero business than he'd originally thought.

Of course, he'd never admit that out loud. Not even under threat of demonic possession.