To Feed the Cat

XANA CAN’T USE MAGIC.

At all.

In the world of Krysterios, magic is hereditary, at the expense of spellcasters having a fairly low fertility rate. However, children from non-spellcaster parents do have some innate talent in them. At minimum, everyone has enough magic to activate scrolls or magic items, and the luckiest 1% can become mages outright.

And then there’s Xana. For whatever reason, her mana capacity is so minuscule that she can’t activate even the simplest of magic items, let alone cast a spell. The magic arrows she uses are preprogrammed to detonate on impact, so she isn’t the one actually triggering them.

“It’s really bad,” Cerys said. “There are methods to increase your mana capacity, but none of them worked on her.”

“Not even Lord Silvano could help her,” Amelia added.

“Silvano?” I asked.

“He’s a hero of the realm,” Cerys explained. “Years ago, there was an S-Rank adventuring party called Lightbringer, led by him and the current Guildmaster, Godwin. After a certain mission, the party retired, and Silvano entered into service of the Crown.”

Ah. Cerys mentioned she’s a former court mage. Must’ve met the guy there.

“So even a hero couldn’t help Xana use magic…” I pondered.

“Not even a little,” Amelia lamented. “Xana was born with a birth defect that blocks her aether pathways. We did everything to help her at least use a scroll, but she remained as numb to magic as ever.”

“Say, what’s Xana’s relationship with the Crown anyway?” I asked. I know Amelia is a former paladin, and Cerys was a court mage, but I’m unclear about Xana’s role.

“She was a retainer of Princess Camila,” Amelia explained. “I’m not at liberty of telling you how she entered her service, but Xana and I met when we were young, and she worked for the Princess since then.”

It must be a delicate matter, if Amelia won’t broach it. Either way, Xana was close enough to the Princess that she’d ask a hero like Silvano for help, and even he failed at it. For all intents and purposes, Xana’s hopes of using magic are dead.

“That’s gotta be rough, being an adventurer,” I said.

From what I saw in the markets, magic items are ubiquitous in Sylphadim, but Xana can’t use any of them. To make matters worse, in her line of work, magic items aren’t a mere luxury. They’re a necessity.

“It is,” replied Amelia. “Xana has experienced a lot of hardship from this, and it’s still a sore point for her. But even though I know that, I can’t go easy on her. If I gave her a role she’s unfit to do, we could lose her.”

As the party leader, Amelia bears responsibility for her comrades’ lives, and this requires being harsh on them at times. The way she beat Xana was humiliating, but it drove the point across that she couldn’t play the combat role she wanted… and it’s better to have Xana crying in her room, instead of lying in a grave.

I understand that.

But no matter the necessity of it, it still feels like shit.

I’ve known Xana only for a few days, but I’m quite fond of her. She’s earnest, cheerful and unreserved, wearing her heart on her sleeve. So seeing her so crushed is playing a number on me.

I’d like to cheer her up, but the question is… how?

Solving the core of the problem is all but impossible, given Cerys and Silvano failed at it. Maybe, with my draconic power, I’d be able to do something, but I don’t want to blunder my way in with an improvised fix.

The last thing I want is to give Xana false hope. If I do try my hand at helping her, it’ll be until I’m dead certain it will work. So for now, that goes to the back burner.

In the meantime, I’ll deal with a more immediate problem. Xana is locked in her room, and she needs something to lift her spirits.

“Say, Amelia,” I started. “This isn’t the first time you’ve fought over this, right?”

“It isn’t,” she replied with a slump.

“How did you cheer her up last time?” I asked.

“We bought her cookies,” Cerys admitted with a wry smile.

“That so?” I pondered before playing my hand. “Then, let’s make a feast for her.”

* * *

I swapped into my raven form and went shopping with Amelia and Cerys, gleefully riding on the elf’s shoulder.

Even though I already have clothes to wear, we decided to keep my presence in Sylphadim a strict secret. The Cult may be looking for me at any given time, so lying low will not only keep me hidden from them, but also let me act as the girls’ trump card.

“Holy, that’s a strong bird,” some passing adventurers would say occasionally. Cerys’ cloaking spell is hiding most of my mana, but even the bits that slip out are enough to draw attention. I don’t want to imagine what would happen if I walked alone.

I haven’t gotten the knack of how to conceal my mana signature, so Cerys must do it for me. It’s not a problem inside the Briar Hall, because George has a muffling effect, but in public that’s another story.

Anyway, the rhythm of life in Sylphadim sure is different from Earth’s. Most shops close after dusk, except for the inns and taverns, so Amelia and Cerys have to walk at a brisk pace to reach the markets on time.

Luckily, we managed to shop without incident, and made our way back home with our bags stuffed with groceries. Amelia is carrying most of them, being the muscle of the team. As for me, I’m a lazy little bird, enjoying the wind on Cerys’ shoulder, and indulging in the floral aroma of her hair.

* * *

The girls did the shopping, so the cooking falls on me. It’s for the best, too. This whole operation is about cheering up Xana, but she’s gotten used to Cerys’ and Amelia’s recipes by now, so a foreign dish from me ought to do the trick.

But what’s the dish in question, one might ask?

Fish, of course.

To feed the cat, it’s gotta be fish.

Back on Earth, I heard cats enjoy umami flavors, or a meaty and savory taste. This includes stuff like meats, seafood, cheese, mushrooms and more… so I went ahead and mixed them all.

Not like a dumb barbarian, mind you.

I made several dishes.

The first is made of a fish similar to salmon, with mushroom cream and cheese. The second is mainly pasta, with chicken, ham cubes and cheese sauce. The third is a salad, with greens, tomatoes, olives and — you guessed it — cheese!

When in doubt, add cheese. It might even work on catgirls.

It took me a while to prepare all this, so it’s getting late, and we’re all hungry. Amelia and Cerys took a look at the food, gave a nod of approval, and helped me carry everything upstairs.

There’s a large table in the strategy room, outside the girls’ bedrooms. We’re not supposed to eat there, but hey. An exception today won’t hurt anyone.

We laid out everything on the table, neatly arranged to let the feast look glorious.

After a job well done, I walked over to Xana’s door and knocked.

No answer.

I can pick her scent and breathing from the other side, so she’s definitely there. She’ll just need a bit of a push.

“Hey,” I called.

“I’m not hungry,” came Xana’s voice from the other side. It was muffled, probably from talking with her face to her pillow.

“Really?” I asked. “I could swear I heard your stomach grumbling in there.”

“It’s not,” she replied.

“That so?” I said, before using wind magic to blow the smell of the food under Xana’s door. Lo and behold, a loud grumble echoed from inside her room.

“You’re mean!” she cried.

“I am,” I admitted without shame. “And I won’t let you stay there crying yourself to sleep, so I’ll warn you only once. If you don’t come out, I’ll ask George to open the door for me, and I’ll carry you outside like a princess.”

Again, silence.

It took several seconds for Xana to answer.

“Then... make me,” she said, issuing a soft challenge.

I knocked on George, his wood acting as the frame around Xana’s door. The elemental obliged and opened for me, letting me through to Xana’s bedside.

Her eyes were reddish and puffy, still fresh with tears. Seeing her like this broke my heart, and I couldn’t help but pat her head softly. Xana closed her eyes, not resisting.

Then, I wordlessly picked her in my arms and carried her outside.

Amelia and Cerys awaited us, the latter covering her mouth with a light blush. Next to them, a lavish dinner was in full display, still steaming in all its delicious might.

Xana’s ears perked up as she saw it. I think she has realized who was the cook.

“John…” she said, her voice filled with emotion. “You made this for me?”

“Every dish,” I replied. “So. Are you still not hungry?”

Xana turned a little bashful, hesitating on what to say.

“Just a little,” she replied. “You’ll have to feed me.”

Amelia shook her head at the request, but I don’t mind granting her wish.

“As you command, Princess,” I said, holding Xana in my arms.

Watching her brighten with anticipation, I felt the tension of the day melt away. Today hadn’t been without mishaps, but with a little effort, we turned it into a night to remember.