“Mr. Souya, this stressful situation has reduced my capabilities by fifteen percent. I’ll share my video feed just in case, so please let me know if I’m about to make a mistake,” the AI bot announced. Video footage of Machina’s point of view while cooking appeared on my glasses’ screen.
Éa had completely switched over to cuddle-monster mode, nuzzling up against me as she held on tight. A guy could use something like this every once in a while.
“Now, I’d like to prepare a meal to thank you for kindly saving me and as an apology for our rudeness. Oh, also, to cheer Lady Éa up and calm Mr. Souya down! I’m going to put my whole heart into this! First, we fry the ingredients together,” Machina explained, then pulled out a slab of thoroughly spiced pork thigh. “I’ve marinated this pork in a spice blend Mr. Gaslark kindly gave me.”
“Wait, what kind of spice?” I had to know. I didn’t have the best history with Remlian spices. Tongue-burning and sour, they drew up foul memories in me.
“It’s a mixture of several plant species the goblins raise underground that are similar to cumin, coriander, cardamom, and turmeric. It also contains a blend of herbs foraged in the Heuress Forest; these are kind of like cloves, nutmeg, and cinnamon. Together, they combine to form one Other Dimensional seasoning, hereafter known as ‘Long-Ears Seasoning’!”
Yeah, that name needed to go. “Machina, long-ears is a derogatory term for elves. Don’t use it.”
“Known as ‘Remlian Seasoning’!”
“Good bot.”
“Ooh, that smells good.” My little sister perked up. The aromatic seasoning tugged at my heartstrings. It was a nostalgic fragrance, the kind that lured children home from a day out playing. It also happened to be my late grandfather’s best recipe. Though to be fair, my grandfather made nothing but the best.
“The meat has been parboiled, so it only needs a tiiiny bit of grilling. Then all that’s left to do is add a generous helping of crushed tomatoes, a good splash of white wine, and grated apple, and this part is done.”
The metal chef then took out a frying pan. “Next, we make a paste to add more flavor. Simply add grated onion, garlic, and ginger to your pan and sauté them juuust like this,” Machina continued, cheerfully stirring the ingredients around. She’d worked as a cooking robot back in the modern world, and it showed; she expertly handled the task with her metal arms and fingers. “Once they’re nice and fragrant, add the spices and milk, then mix, mix, miiix ♪, mix, mix, miiix ♪, mix up real good, mix up real good. ♪ Moe—”
“I’m gonna stop you right there.”
“Yes, Mr. Souya.” She’d gotten dangerously close to showing an aspect of Japanese culture that would be misunderstood here. Even so, some damage had already been done. “Now that the paste is done, we add it to the pot and let it simmer for a little while.”
She dumped the paste in and stirred everything together. Once I got a good look, I saw she was using the pressure cooker. Machina covered the pot and left it to do its thing. She then stepped away from the cooking and turned to set up our folding table and chairs. The Dark Lord laid out the tableware.
Wha—? Huh?! No, no, no, this is all wrong! We can’t let our guest set the table!
“Éa, I have to help out as well. Can you get down?”
“Nuh-uh.” She refused to leave my side. In fact, she doubled down on her viselike grip. How is it that both sisters react the exact same way?! I can’t stand being trapped!
“So, uh, I’m pretty sure I heard you say somethin’ wild before. Did you really get hitched to an elf?” the laid-back goblin inquired.
“Oh yeah.”
“What clan’s she from?”
“Heuress.”
“Huh? Wait, Heuress? As in, the forest over there?” he asked, surprised. “Ahhh, yeah, you know what? Now that you mention it, I’ve seen that gauntlet somewhere before.”
“Yes, as in the Heuress Forest. Her name is Laualliuna Raua Heuress, daughter of Mellum Raua Heuress. And this one’s her younger sister, Éa,” I explained, gesturing to the crybaby on my lap. “King Remlia gave us his blessing, but my wife’s father was against our marriage and even disowned her because of that.”
“Ahhh, yeah. Elves do that, don’t they?” Éa looked like she was about to say something, but I squeezed hard to keep her quiet. A few strokes over her silky hair, and she calmed down again. “Gotta say, you’re kind of an oddball, dude.”
“Um, thanks.” I’d bet money I was the only Japanese person to ever have a goblin call him weird. Though to be fair, most non-Japanese people probably saw us all in a similar boat.
“Here, for you.”
“Huh?” The little green man handed me a small pouch. I peeked inside and saw a bunch of seeds.
“You’re into flowers, right?”
“Not exactly. I was just curious about those red ones.”
“Perfect, then; those are seeds for the crimson mortalis.”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.” Were these something he should be giving out so freely? “But aren’t these pretty valuable?”
“Naaah. Oh, but I doubt the above-grounders round here got any. You can harvest ’em from the flowers, though.” Interestiiing.
“If you’ll allow another ignorant question, would you by any chance know how to lift a curse afflicting a human?” People from every race and every culture had their strengths and weaknesses. Maybe for goblins, removing a curse was as easy as—
“Not gonna happen, dude.”
Scratch that.
“You mean a heim hex, right? Yeah, I don’t know much about those.”
“Of course, silly question.”
It’s never that easy, is it? Still, flowers that purge curses, huh? They probably only work on the soil where they grow, but that in itself is a worthwhile discovery.
The hook-nosed goblin walked away to join his regent, who was currently setting out bowls and spoons. Thanks, guys. Also, I’m really, really sorry, guys.
For a while after that, I passed the time sitting on a bed of crimson flowers, gazing up at the tranquil skies. I felt the gentle rays of the sun luring me to sleep and heard the goblin and Machina chat, noting the gentle clattering of dishes. Enticing aromas of deliciousness wafted over the meadow. Éa had fallen asleep, her chin still resting on my shoulder.
A black-caped skeleton and a green gremlin sat plopped down at a picnic table while a cylindrical AI bot spun around singing to herself in front of a pressure cooker. Talk about surreal. This had to be the strangest scene I’d encountered so far in the Other Dimension. Yet lulled perhaps by my sister’s body warmth, I felt drowsiness creep over me, and my eyelids slowly grew heavy.
Oh yeah. I hardly slept last night. Man, I’m beat. So tired.
………