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Liadon is cold. Really cold.
Ardent’s mother, Assurance, doesn’t really speak about where she’s from, where Ardent’s from. In a way, it’s a mercy that Ardent isn’t sure they’re actually from hell. That the rumors might not be true. But on the other hand, being a rootless child with no deep heritage, no ancestral camaraderie to fall back on is its own quiet torture. So Ardent tries to focus on what Assurance has chosen to share.
Suan la tang (a loose Common transcription of the original Infernal, or so Ardent believes), is a soup known to tieflings who were lucky enough to be raised by tieflings. It’s a simple, versatile soup, for which the only requirements are that it be both spicy and sour. In Ardent’s childhood, Assurance would go to market or disappear for a few weeks and come back with jars of the hottest peppers on the face of the continent, and little bottles of a dark, thick, fluid. On any day out in the cold, it was always reassuring to Ardent. They remember coming in from the snow with Axel, noses and fingers red and numb with the biting temperatures of Liadon. To Ardent, among other things, suan la tang is the taste of comfort and care.
Ardent couldn’t find any proper hot peppers or vinegar at Amastacias University even if they had thought to look.
Home ownership (or uh. squatting) has been growing on Ardent. It’s been really nice to have something stable again! Being on the road was . . . eye-opening in the way that a bucket of cold water is. Ardent valued the new life experience and the time traveling the mainland, but a sense of bitter anger and hatred had never truly left them. It still hasn’t, but spending their days at the manor is a temporary comfort that Ardent will allow themselves for the brief time it will surely last.
It’s just. It’s been a while since Ardent really felt safe. But this is close. Maybe close enough.
It’s not winter, but there’s a brief cold snap at Valentine manor, right during one of Aza’s infrequent visits. They’re really using it as an excuse to keep Aza here for a bit. It’s risky but god, Ardent’s glad Aza’s letting themselves be selfish just for a bit.
The idea to make suan la tang occurs to Ardent quickly and casually, through simple association. The meager manor fireplaces can’t really keep up with the size of the things, so the little trio living at Valentine have been really bundling up in old quilts and blankets. Cold means you need to warm up, and there’s nothing better for that than hot soup. And what do you know, there’s no better hot soup than the kind tieflings make.
Ardent goes to market. Luckily, they managed to find the right sort of vinegar, though they had to spend a Certain Amount of Aza’s money on it. The produce isn’t quite right, but tieflings are nothing if not resourceful people, and Ardent comes back with a basket full of goodies. They refuse to show Fost and Aza, barricading the kitchen shut with a coy, fanged grin.
At the market, Ardent had to do a quick calculation. Actual tiefling chilies would be both too hot and too hard to find, and the local chilies might still be too hot in the amount Ardent’s planning to use. They end up rummaging in their bag for a small, unused jar of white pepper optimistically packed before their Amastacias career. That’s perfect— spicy enough to add a kick to the broth, but not enough to kill Aza.
The vinegar is made somewhere out west from rice, and it’s black and a little thicker than the kind easterners use to clean. That’s about all Ardent knows about it, other than the fact that it’s absolutely delicious.
The rest is improvised.
When Ardent comes out of the kitchen a few hours later, they’re grinning in a much more earnest way. They set down a heavy pot onto a coaster on the far-too-big dining table, and inhale, burning a quick Thaumaturgy charge.
“HEY KIDS! COME GET SOME SOUP!” echoes through the manor at a very normal and sane volume that doesn’t shake any glassware at all.
When Fost and Aza stumble into the room, Ardent is calmly ladling a relatively clear, slightly orange soup into individual bowls. There’s also a lukewarm kettle of pretty weak tea on a separate coaster, along with two glasses and a shorter cup. Ardent looks up.
“Good evening! I’ve made some soup! Come sit down, you look cold.”
Fost and Aza look at each other, and sit down, still not quite sure what’s going on. Ardent sits down at the head of the table and gestures for them to get into the soup. They end up all picking up spoonfuls at the same time, and briefly make eye contact before trying it.
It’s cooled just enough not to scald, but the white pepper kicks in halfway through a mouthful of the broth so it tastes pretty hot anyway. It’s a thin, light broth that tastes faintly of chicken to a very discerning tongue. To a normal one, it tastes strongly of vinegar (but somehow sweet instead of poisonous), and moderately of pepper in a way that’s more powdery than the black pepper Fost and Aza have had before. Fost’s spoonful has two perfectly springy button mushrooms, and Aza ends up with something that turns out to be bamboo. There are no less than three kinds of mushrooms in the soup, and it rounds out to be a really solid meal with a flavor that stays interesting for the entire bowl.
After the white pepper kicks in, Fost and Aza chug half their glasses of tea while Ardent goes back in for a second spoonful and tries not to giggle.
“Good LORD, Ardent!”
“Yeah . . . agreed! It’s really good though!”
“I’m absolutely going to finish this, it’s excellent, but I might need some more tea.”
“I don’t remember trying something like this in Liadon?”
Ardent winks. “Old family recipe! Great on cold days! Keeps the frostbite off.” They smile knowingly.
“Please warn us if you’re going to do this again. Please do it again, but also please warn us.”
Aza just puts their head down on the table. Eventually, though, they all finish the soup.
It tastes like pepper, with a sweet, sour twist. It tastes like mushrooms. It tastes like a warm ending to a cold night. To Ardent, it tastes like family.
It’s close enough.
Not even six months later, things have gone horribly wrong.
Ardent doesn’t know it yet, but the market Assurance went to every Wednesday for pepper and thread and vinegar is burning to ash. Ardent doesn’t know it yet, but Sylvi and Aza are in unfathomable danger.
What Ardent does know is that they’re with Fost and Sift in a haunted desert city leveled by Ardent’s god and their old Potions professor , who’s also a water god , who’s also Fost’s girlfriend/lover/it’s complicated. Who’s also kind of the reason Fost went through unimaginable torture in his own mind from one Keravin Sylithar and continues to see the ghosts of the people he wishes he could have done better by.
Ardent knows that Fost could use some comfort right about now.
Ardent also knows that they’re in an abandoned ancestral drow city, with a drow death priestess who travels regularly. After making sure Fost is comfortable for the time being, Ardent cautiously approaches Sift.
“So. Uh. I know we’ve put you in an uncomfortable situation-”
“What do you want?” Sift is straight-faced, but Ardent thinks that question wasn’t as sharp as its last iterations. There’s a shot.
“Well, it gets cold at night here, right? Have you ever made suan la tang ?”
Sift stares. “I don’t speak that much Infernal.”
“Ah, sorry. Hot and sour soup! The tiefling kind, with the peppers and the vinegar? If I have some veggies to make the broth with, we can just put mushrooms in it and it’ll be fine. I still have some leftover white pepper and black vinegar!” Ardent cuts themselves off when they realize they’re rambling. “If you want. No pressure, we can just grill vegetables again.”
Sift pauses. Then she comes to a decision. “I haven’t had an adequately seasoned bowl of soup in over a month. You’re going to walk me through making it so I can make sure you aren’t trying anything funny, and you’re going to eat it first.”
“Deal.”
At first, the cooking process feels kind of like a hostage situation, but Sift is skilled and relatively well stocked, and they end up with a very solid soup that Assurance would be mildly suspicious but ultimately supportive of. Ardent brings it to Fost, who’s been talking, but not much. He’s lost a little of his characteristic bravado, and Ardent understands but is still very disconcerted. A bowl of good soup can’t heal his emotional wounds. It can’t solve his problems, or make the world make sense again in a way it hasn’t for some time. But it can help, just a little, and that’s a start.
They’re sitting on the floor in Sift’s hideout, a cozy abandoned building in the lost city of Kaz, and they’re quietly taking mouthfuls of a pretty good soup. Sift even managed to scrounge up some wood-ear, which has always been one of Ardent’s favorite parts of the soup: a curly black fungus with a very interesting texture halfway between jelly and a leaf. Everyone’s been a little shaky from learning things today, but finally halfway through his bowl Fost takes a shuddering breath from where he’s curled up in a blanket. Ardent tries not to make it obvious how much of their attention is on him (the fog on their glasses from the hot soup helps).
“Do you guys have any water? This is so fucking spicy.”
Ardent and Sift burst out laughing immediately. Fost gives a shaky grin through the burning mouth pain and tries to speak again.
“No! I’m sorry! It’s really good soup! It’s just so fucking spicy please-” Ardent does not stop laughing. It’s very clear that the spice is keeping him from fully enunciating. “Ice? I heard milk is good? Please, I’m doing my best-”
Ardent half-recovers, still giggling. “It’s okay, that’s fine, that-” Another wave of laughter seizes them. “It’s really understandable, don’t worry, sorry! Sift has a really good spice selection and I kind of forgot. Let me get you some water.”
The bowls are warm in their hands, and the soup has a more interesting depth of flavor from small amounts each of ginger, sugar, turmeric, and some other stuff Ardent trusted Sift on. There’s a really good selection of mushrooms, but Sift had some more vegetables to use, so there’s also some snow peas and carrots. It might be a little chaotic, but it’s one of the best meals Ardent’s ever had, here in the abandoned basement of a long-dead civilization.
It tastes like spices. It’s kinda sweet. It gives Ardent and Fost a hit of warmth and comfort, a scrap of healing from the events of the past. It gives them the energy to move forward.
To Ardent, it tastes like the start of something.
Distantly, they hope Aza and Sylvi are getting some comfort too.