The Spice of Fire Wind

I could get used to uneventful travel. Never before had I craved the monotony of boredom. Apart from the occasional monster sighting in the rocky plains—odd little burrowing creatures Ulrich called dogmoles—nothing of any note happened. And thank Iliana for it!

It was difficult to keep tears of relief from flowing as we entered the town of Fire Wind that evening. We had successfully traveled between two towns without incident, and that alone was worth celebrating.

“I say we stop and find us something to eat!” I said, feeling better than I had been since leaving home. “I’ve earned plenty of gold working for the guilds, so why not splurge a little and enjoy some local cuisine?”

Dietrich gave a cry of agreement, but Lina raised an eyebrow. “That’s surprisingly easygoing of you, Anno.”

I wanted to lean back, but the pain in my chest prevented that. Instead, I rested my hands behind my head and looked at her with mock offense: “What, am I not allowed to be easygoing once in a while?”

She smiled, “No, it’s just that I’ve never seen you so relaxed before.”

I shrugged with my elbows, “Well, for once, we’re in a good spot. We leave tomorrow morning, but why not enjoy ourselves a little before we go? After all, we promised Dietrich those roasted walnuts, did we not?”

Lina giggled as she glanced at an eagerly nodding Dietrich, “I suppose we did.”

I released my hands, “Excellent! Ulrich, you have a better nose than we do. Why not sniff us out a good place to eat?”

Ulrich also gave a low chuckle, though I could only guess as to why. But he said, “Sure, Mr. Prince. I got you.”

Fire Wind was only marginally larger than Sunfield, though much more spread out as more than one road branched in multiple directions, but the general building shape–or lack thereof—was the same as the other town, each as vibrantly painted. Though there was no standout mural like before.

The name Fire Wind certainly was appropriate for this town. As the orange sunset washed over the painted buildings, each radiated with the glow of twilight. I could not help but be in slight awe at the sight. What I had thought was garish now possessed what I would describe as rustic charm.

It did not take Ulrich long to find a small, almost literal, hole in the wall with the name Fire Breath painted above it. Lina supported me off the wagon, but I had the strength to walk alone.

The interior of the eatery was humble as well. Its stone walls were sparsely decorated, and simple wooden furniture was scattered about. Even still, the few patrons looked as if they were enjoying themselves as they laughed and played music on small stringed instruments. All went quiet, however, as we entered. The eatery's owner was a stout woman with a severe pair of eyebrows, which were downturned as she surveyed us along with her patrons.

“Uh-uh, no way,” she said, coming from around her small wooden counter to bar our path. “Outsiders, I can handle. But if you think you can bring that animal in here, you ain’t gotta chance in a silver wind of eatin’ at my place.”

I turned a shrug towards Ulrich, whose head was poking through the doorway, “Sorry, sheriff. I guess—”

“I don’t mean him,” said the owner, “I mean him.” Her finger shot out in a vicious point toward who I thought was Dietrich, but which turned out to be a small and unassuming man standing in his shadow. He gave a small jump and tried to sneak past us, but the woman quelled him with a look.

I caught the distinct reek of alcohol from him, “Oh, he’s not with us,” I said.

The crease in the woman’s eyebrows deepened, “Anfried Bierhals, you have had enough tonight. Now, git on home. And no tryin’ to sneak in with guests.”

The man slumped, “Aw, but Gisela…”

“I said, git! You can come by tomorrow once you’ve slept it off.” It was easy to tell that there was no arguing with her. So, the man slumped away and out the door. When I turned back to look at the woman, Gisela, she was all smiles. The music and conversation started again as the patrons returned to their evening.

“Sorry ‘bout all that, dearies. Some folk need a firm hand to keep ‘em in line. Come in, come in! Sit yourselves down there.”

She indicated a large, round table, big enough for both Ulrich and Dietrich to sit comfortably. When we were settled, Gisela said, “What’s a buncha outsiders doin’ in this ol’ place?”

“We heard you’ve got the best food in town!”

The woman laughed, “Sure do! So long as you’ve got the stomach of a bore worm! We here pride ourselves on makin’ the spiciest dishes this side of White Wing Canyon!”

I could feel myself turning green at the thought. “Is everything you have spicy, then?”

“Naw,” said Gisela, “But ya ain’t much of an Altenian if ya order yerselves anythin’ plain. You’ll get some funny looks; I’ll tell you what.”

I already got “funny looks” no matter where I went, and I gave the sheriff one now.

He grinned back at me, “We can try another place, but they’ll all be the same. Altenians pride themselves on well-spiced food.”

Did Altenians ever pride themselves on anything normal? I smiled at Gisela, “I’ll take something mild if you don’t mind.” Judging by how Gisela’s lips pursed, I would say she minded a lot. But she nodded, which was enough for me.

Dietrich, who sat to my left, clapped me on the back, which sent a wave of pain through my shoulders, “What’s wrong, boss? Can’t handle a bit of spice.”

“I’d prefer to taste my food, thank you very much. And I’m hurt enough; I don’t need any more for my tongue.”

Dietrich removed his hand with a sheepish grin, “Whoops.”

Gisela looked at the rest of my companions, “So we’ve got one of y’all has no taste. What about you, bright shine?” she said with a sly grin at Lina.

Lina, who was on my right, was smiling as usual, but a crease between her eyebrows told me she agreed with my palette. Yet, to my surprise, she said, “What’s the spiciest thing you have? I’ll take that!”

Gisela’s eyes popped, as did mine. “Whoa-ho!” said the woman, “Well, color me blue and call me a sapphire! You’re somethin’ else!”

“Way to go, Lina!” said Dietrich, pounding the table in excitement.

“There’s no shame in wanting to enjoy your food,” I muttered in her ear. “Don’t give in to their pressure.”

“Oh, I’m not,” she muttered back. “I was always jealous that Silva got to eat authentic Altenian food. Even if it’s painful, I want to try it at least once. Gotta be a little adventurous now and again.” She giggled, which made my breath catch a little.

Gisela also laughed, “Good attitude! That’s the Altenian spirit right there! One Alten pepper and rice soup! The Fire Breath Special! I’ll tell the chef to give it his all!”

“I’ll take the same!” said Dietrich eagerly, “And some of those honey-roasted walnuts if you have ‘em!”

“Sure,” said Gisela, “I can add pepper powder to give ‘em a kick.”

“Do it! I want you to kick them in the face like a kung fu master!”

Her eyebrows knitted at that, then she shrugged, “Um…sure. I’ll do my best.”

She took Ulrich’s order of a sizable spiced salad before disappearing into a back room and coming back with clay steins full of a reddish-purple liquid.

“Here you are. Try some of our plum wine. It’s another Altenian specialty.”

She offered one to me, which I sniffed tentatively. It smelled delicious, and I took a swig. It was a mix of sweet and bitter, pleasant until the aftertaste began to burn my mouth. My lips were on fire, and I could feel sweat forming on my forehead.

“Why’s… it so hot?” I choked.

Gisela shook her head pityingly, “We age it with pepper extract. Not a lot, mind you. That’s our mildest thing on the menu, m’afraid. Besides the bread, of course.” She placed a plate of rolls at the center of the table, which I snatched and stuffed whole into my mouth. The warm bread was soothing.

I chewed and gave a huge swallow. “You can just not add the pepper, you know,” I said, fanning my mouth with an attempt at princely airs.

She gave me a bemused smile. “Yer the one who came to a place called Fire Breath, but I’ll see what we can rustle up fer ya.”

When Gisela left us, I looked at the others, who grinned at me. At least, Dietrich and Ulrich did. Lina, however, was not smiling. Beads of sweat were also beginning to form on her forehead.

I put my chin on my hand. “So, how is it?” I asked.

“It’s…ulp…delicious…” She said from behind her cup, though she couldn’t hide the slight choke between her words.

“You’re regretting this already?” I said with a slight smile.

“No!” she said before taking a large draught from her drink. Her face greened immediately, but instead of grabbing bread as I had done, Lina pressed her forehead against the table's edge.

“You alright, little miss?” asked Ulrich.

Lina smacked the table and sat upright. “I’m fine!” Though she said it with enthusiasm, her eyes watered. “That wasn’t… so bad!”

“Glad to hear it, bright shine.” With arms full of dishes, Gisela placed a steaming bowl of earthen red soup in front of her. “Here’s yer Fire Breath special.”

I could swear I saw part of Lina’s thick, red eyebrows singe black as she stared into the bowl like it was filled with lava.

“And here’s yours,” said Gisela, who placed another bowl before Dietrich. “And your salad, stranger.” She placed a massive plate of greens and red peppers in front of Ulrich. Then her lips pursed again as she placed a bowl and spoon before me. “Here.”

My bowl was filled with a watery white gruel with sliced, soggy bread and fruit.

“That there’s what we feed our toddlers here in Alten,” said Gisela with a wry smile, “Let me know if it’s too much fer ya.”

Behind her smile, her eyes were disapproving, but I took up the spoon and sipped the broth. Though bland in appearance, the gruel had a hint of savoriness and sweetness that complimented each other. I was surprised that such a simple dish was so appetizing.

“It’s quite wonderful, thank you, madam.”

Gisela let out a small laugh through her nose and said, “Sure,” before turning her attention to Dietrich, who picked up his bowl and drank his soup in only a few gulps, after which he slammed the bowl onto the table. “Hoo! That was great! I think I like spicy food!”

The woman brightened at that, “You must’ve Altenian blood runnin’ through yer veins, stranger! I’ll get you some more.”

Meanwhile, Lina grew paler with each second she stared at her soup. Her fingers trembled slightly as she picked up her spoon and raised it to her lips. She paused momentarily before putting the whole thing in her mouth. Her face brightened at the taste before darkening again. Slowly, she removed the spoon and lowered it back into the soup with a thousand-yard stare.

Whereas her eyes watered with the wine, full and fat tears streamed down her cheeks as she swallowed. “I might have made… a huge mistake. Excuse me.”

She was up and out of the eatery before we could say anything. I was feeling half concerned for Lina and half validated that the soup was a weapon designed to kill anyone not immune to fire like Dietrich.

“Oh dear,” said Gisela as she returned with more of that infernal broth. “I’d better get some medicine fer the poor thing.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Where was that concern for me?”

Her face soured at that, “Least she dared to try it without complaint. That’s about as close to the Altenian spirit as an outsider can get.”

Gisela disappeared. Dietrich, who had already finished his second helping, was the first to speak.” Do you think Lina’s gonna finish that?” He said, pointing at her bowl.

“Somehow, I don’t think she’ll mind,” I answered. A slight clatter made me glance at Ulrich, whose plate was empty except for a single fork.

“Now that hit the spot,” he said. I shook my head in disbelief but would not take the obvious bait. Instead, I focused on my meal and hoped Lina would return to us soon.

It was not long before I felt someone sat down beside me. “Are you feeling any better?” I asked as I tore a piece of bread in half. “Here, that’ll help.”

I proffered the roll only to find that the one who took it from me was not Lina but the brown-haired girl from earlier. She now wore a headscarf that did nothing to keep her messy bangs out of her face.

“Thanks!” she said before putting the entire half in her mouth. The girl smiled at me before her eyes widened in revelation. She gave a huge swallow, “Wait a second! Don’t think you can bribe me with food! We’ve got an ax to grind with you, Headband! It took us all day to catch up to you!”

“We?” I looked across the table where the girl’s tall companion, Moog, sat between Ulrich and Dietrich, silently partaking in a roll. He wore a bandana similar to his companion's.

My heart began to race at the sight. I had not heard him approach or sit, and judging by the surprise on the other two’s faces, neither had they. If they really wanted to pick a fight, he would be more trouble than not.

“That’s right!” said the girl with fiery bravado, “Y’all outsiders ruined our plan this morning with yer meddling! Take responsibility!” She snatched the other half of the roll from my hand and stuffed it into her mouth, “Sho, teh uff. Wha diff you hea abouff fe Sta caffa?”

She stared between us, chewing expectantly. “Weu? Tawgh!”

I looked at Moog for help. He wouldn’t look me in the eye, but he did smirk, “Swallow, Nova.”

Nova rolled her eyes but obeyed before saying, “Tell us what you know.”

“Sorry. About what again?” I asked. Even when I could understand her, I couldn’t understand her.

Nova looked around her at the other patrons before leaning in closer. Ulrich and Dietrich leaned in as well. “You know…” she said in little more than a whisper, “...about the Starcastle. Y’all must have heard something while you were gawking at my mural.”

“Your mural?” asked Dietrich, his excitement growing, “You mean you painted that?”

“Sure did!” said Nova with a smug nod, “Took me aaaaallll night, too.” Then she scowled, “But it was all fer nothing ‘cause y’all were asking too many questions! By the time we got there, their mouths were shut tighter than a Rock Clam sucking on a hunk of bronze.”

Now that they were free of bread, I clasped my hands together, “Well, I don’t know what that means, but we did not hear much of anything before they noticed us.”

“Really?” Nova slumped, “Not a clue or hint of the legend?”

I shook my head.

“Awww,” said Nova, slumping further. “What a waste.” Then she brightened. “Oh well! Guess we’ll have to try again, don’t we, Moog? I doubt there’s anyone here who sells blue paint. If that’s the case, we’ve got just enough fer one more before we head fer Elliptical Seasons. C’mon, let’s go find us a good painting spot!”

The two made to rise but stopped when Dietrich gave a disappointed groan, “What? You can’t just leave! What about the Starc—” With a speed ill-befitting of his size, Moog pressed his hand over Dietrich’s mouth, pushing his words back down his throat. The man shook his head, eyes darting from left to right.

“Shh!” said Nova, her eyes imitating Moog’s as she pressed her finger to her lips. “Not so loud! You wanna ruin our plans again?! You can’t just go around saying that name, Big Grey. People’ll get suspicious. Got it?”

Dietrich nodded, after which Moog removed his hand, which revealed Dietrich’s grin. “You’re pretty quick, guy,” he said, “And strong.”

Moog went red with embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck, but Ulrich was not as impressed. His ears were flat. “Jest who are you two? You’re unusual fer Altenians.”

The two exchanged looks before Moog nodded. The pair sat back down, and Nova smiled. “Well, if you really want to know, Hooves, people call me Nova, and this is my older brother, Moog.” Moog gave a disgruntled frown, to which Nova rolled her eyes. “Though he doesn’t act like the older one. He’s really shy and doesn’t talk a lot.”

And you talk way too much, I thought, although I said, “Nova and Moog, eh? What unusual names you have. Tell me, what even is a ‘Moog?’”

“He is, of course!” answered Nova, “I’ve been calling him that since I was a baby. It fits him, right? He doesn’t think so, though. But he doesn’t complain enough to change my mind. He’s too moogish.”

These two grew odder with every word Nova spoke. As I figured, Moog was merely a nickname, like Big Gray for Dietrich or Headband for me. Why she fixated on as minor a detail as my leather regalia—the only remaining piece of my original clothes from home—was beyond me. Frankly, it made me feel somewhat self-conscious about my fashion choice.

“Well, I am Prince Anno of Cross. Though I doubt that means anything here,” I added, “And these are my companions, Dietrich and Ulrich.”

“What about the other one?” asked Nova, “The pretty red one?”

A loud cough from Ulrich returned our attention to him, “Y’all never really answered my question, missy. You can’t’ve come to the outskirts jest to paint a pretty picture.”

“We’re not just painting pictures for the fun of it,” said Nova, her tone becoming hushed. “We’re on a hunt to find some answers. And the only way Altenians talk is when they think no one’s listening.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” said Ulrich, “So, yer tryin’ to stir up gossip, eh? All fer this…place y’all don’t want us to talk about. You must be some of those treasure hunters we were warned about. Your kind was called ‘unsavory.’”

Nova waved a hand dismissively, “Nah, we’re more like miners looking for unusual specimens. People jest don’t like us because we poke our noses in unusual places.”

I could relate to that last part, though it was usually not my nose that was doing the poking. Before I could get a word in edgewise, Nova continued, “But treasure hunter sounds more exciting, doesn’t it, Moog? Some might call us mercenaries on account we take odd jobs to pay fer our expeditions.”

“I see,” I said when she paused for breath, “Miners, treasure hunters, mercenaries, and artists. My, my, you certainly are well-rounded individuals.”

“We have a lot of hobbies,” said Nova. “Anyway, too much talking. I’m hungry! Miss Owner! Bring us the Fire Breath Special!”

“On it, hon!” we heard Gisela call back.

I was unsatisfied with Nova’s answer, “You claim to be hobbyists, but you managed to track us down rather quickly. I don’t like that, not at all.”

“You weren’t too hard to follow,” said Nova, picking at her dirty nails, “Anyone would stop at Fire Wind after leaving Sunfield. And not many people travel by wagon. It was just a matter of guessing which place you’d stop at. And there’s not many choices.”

Ulrich grunted at that, “You made yer point, but how do we know that yer not gonna show up again lookin’ to take our head fer reward money? Having mercs on our tails can never be a good thing.”

Nova blinked, “Why? Are you wanted?”

“Not as far as we know,” I said, “Let’s just say we’re the curious type as well. You can never tell whose enemy we might become… or already are.” My mind was on the False Hero. If his influence became wide enough, I wouldn’t put it past him to eventually place a bounty on us.

Nova’s grin became playful, “I knew you guys were interesting. Outsiders always are. Moog and I are not that type of mercenary. We don’t take the dirty jobs. We just want to wander, free to explore our interests, that’s all.” Her eyes darted between all three of us. “But that doesn’t mean we aren’t afraid to get our hands dirty if we have to.”

We stared at each other. I was unsure of where this conversation was going. Did they take my words as a threat? I certainly didn’t mean it that way. Though we technically outnumbered them, I was in no condition to fight. Even still, I stared without wavering.

Nova opened her mouth to say something. But Moog interrupted her with a grunt, signaling something to his sister with his eyes when she looked at him. Nova grinned. “Really? With them? You think they can handle it?” He nodded, and then she shouted, “Miss Owner! Add a jar of yer driest peppers on the side fer our new friends!”

Our fellow patrons, whom I suspected had been trying to eavesdrop on our conversation this entire time, began a buzz of excited murmurs. Some even began to beat their fists on their tables. Nova grinned at us, “I like you guys. You’ve got grit! So, how ‘bout we play ourselves a little game?”

“A game, you say?” said I. “What kind of game?”

Nova’s grin became playful, “It’s an old Altenian favorite: Death Pepper. Whoever eats the most peppers without puking their guts out wins. Fun, right?”

“Not even a little,” I could feel my stomach churning at the idea. “What brought this on?”

“Jest a bit of fun,” said Nova, “You talk tough, Headband, but is talk all you are?”

“When it comes to spicy food, I’m not even talk,” I said. “I think I’ll pass.”

There were boos and jeers from the crowd, but I was going to stand firm. “I won’t play. But I know someone who will.”

Dietrich stood excitedly, mouth drooling, “Are these peppers even spicier than the soup?”

“You bet they are,” said Nova, “It’s said that the juice alone can ignite paper. If you can manage to beat my brother. We’ll tell you whatever you want about any treasure. We might even let you tag along fer the big prize, if you wanted.”

“You mean it? Even the—?”

“Yep. But you ain’t got a chance in Rhine of ever beating Moog!”

Dietrich threw out his hand for Nova to shake. “You’ve got a deal!”

“No, not yet!” said I, raising my hand between theirs, “I know how these games are played. What do you get if you win?”

Nova exchanged a look with her brother, who reached a hand into his brown coat.

“You’re a shrewd one, Headband,” said Nova, “We had another reason for following y’all.”

Moog slapped a large piece of paper upon the table.

Ulrich, Dietrich, and I looked down in astonishment. Moog’s giant hand blocked the center, but the word “Wanted” was printed on the top of a poster made for a reward of 2,000,000G.

“We want… the girl.”

Moog removed his hand to reveal a black-and-white drawing of Lina.