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"You may be wondering why I've called you here today," says Aglaea from the dais at the Chrysos Heir Bathhouse. "I am pleased to announce that it is with good news from Tribbie: She has found evidence that suggests the Ocean Titan may have made contact with the Death Titan near Styxia before they disappeared."
The words have an immediate effect on the room. Phainon and Castorice exchange a glance, looking moments away from breaking into frantic whispers, while Mydei keeps his eyes on Aglaea, trying to read her. He assumes this will be a new mission briefing, but her voice doesn't seem to carry the weight that he would expect from such a large announcement. Perhaps there were more failed attempts to locate the Death Titan prior to his arrival in Okhema that have made her cautious.
"As you all know, this lead offers a potential new direction for our search for Thanatos's whereabouts. Although we likely won't find the Hand of Shadow today, this is an imperative step in reclaiming Death's authority. We must investigate this clue to help progress the Flame-Chase Journey.
"Thus, I plan to send a team of willing individuals to this locale. Speak up if you wish to participate in the mission."
Phainon is the first to step forward. "I, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae, wish to push forward the Flame-Chase Journey through the search for Thanatos."
"I, Castorice of Aidonia, also would like to join this mission as the inheritor of Death's authority," says Castorice. "Perhaps I may be able to communicate with any lingering spirits in the area..."
"I, Mydei from Castrum Kremnos, volunteer to join as well. Additional combat power will likely be necessary in a remote area like Styxia."
Aglaea nods. "Your assessment is correct, Mydeimos. Which is why, unfortunately, I will have to ask you to remain here, Castorice. Your conviction is admirable, but I fear you are unprepared to deal with enemies potentially corrupted by the black tide. Let me also remind you that this mission is unlikely to involve the coreflame and is more of a reconnaissance task than anything else; there will be better opportunities for you to aid in our search for Death. You also must be alive in order to attempt its trial."
"... I understand," Castorice says, looking down at her feet as she takes a step back. Disappointment is written on her face, though she doesn't try to argue. Part of Mydei wishes he could forfeit his position for her, but Aglaea's concerns about Castorice's safety are reasonable.
"Then it's settled: Phainon and Mydei will go to the edge of Styxia with Tribbie as gatekeeper. And I, Aglaea from Okhema, will remain here in the city with the other Chrysos Heirs to protect its citizens. May the golden thread guide you on your journey and bring you safely home."
Mydei glances at Phainon—it's unusual for Trianne not to be the one operating the gate—before they both follow Tribbie to a large area suitable for opening said gate.
"Are you all set, De? Snowy?"
"Yes, let's set off, Teacher."
With that, the three of them step through the Century Gate into the dark, crumbling ruins of Styxia. After the never-ending light of Okhema thanks to Kephale's Dawn Device, it takes a moment for Mydei's eyes to adjust to the sprawling blackness of the world beyond the Holy City. Water laps at the edges of walkways, a remnant of the floods that drove waves of Styxian refugees out of their homelands. He suspects that, except for the water, Castrum Kremnos looks much the same now. A pang goes through his chest at the thought of it.
Tribbie guides Mydei and Phainon to the suspected meeting place of Phagousa and Thanatos, which lies beyond several looming doors. After determining the relative safety of the place, they decide to split up to search the large, open area. Mydei follows the path along the left-most wall, taking in his surroundings. The structures are more intact than he would have expected outside the city proper; the buildings are abandoned, certainly, but nothing appears in danger of collapsing any time soon.
A few rooms and right turns later, Mydei even stumbles upon what appears to be a large, communal kitchen. Pots and pans and braziers are stacked on shelves and counters, the remaining space taken up by individual dishware. A stone oven sits in one corner of the room, and a couple of fire pits are dug into the ground. Ceramic containers of all shapes and sizes sit along one wall. Some of the taller ones are painted with images of people celebrating the Ocean Titan with a feast.
"... Mydei?" comes Phainon's voice from down the hall. "Where did you go?"
"In here," he answers, straightening up from the squat he adopted to examine the painted jars.
"What's that? I can't hear you. Keep talking so that I can—" Phainon breaks off, having come around the corner and into view. "Ah! There you are." He crosses the room to join Mydei. "Have you found anything yet?"
"I don't think there's anything of use in here."
"That's a shame, but I suppose it means you haven't one-upped me this time. Maybe we should—"
Phainon doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence, though, before a loud groaning interrupts him. The two of them exchange a look, shifting into defensive stances in tandem. Then, Mydei realizes in dawning horror it's not an enemy but the door closing. He rushes at the shrinking gap, Phainon close on his heels, but is a moment too late just as the heavy stone slab slams shut with a resounding thud. He tugs at the seal to no avail, even with all his strength and body-weight behind it; he just can't get the right angle to force it open. Mydei turns to glare at Phainon.
"This is your fault!" they say in unison.
Mydei's mouth drops open in disbelief. "My fault? How by Nikador is this possibly my fault?"
"You were the one who first came in here!"
"Because I was just following the mission, and everything was fine before you showed up and—"
"Snowy! De! Are you both okay?" comes Tribbie's voice from the other side of the wall.
Phainon turns in the direction of her voice, though she obviously cannot see him. "We're both fine, right Mydei? Just a little, um, stuck."
This is ridiculous. They're Okhema's two greatest warriors. They shouldn't be stopped by a damn door. Mydei sizes up the heavy stone slab in front of him, then casts his eyes upward. Given the integrity of the structure, breaking the door likely won't cause a large-scale collapse. Especially if he hits near the center of it.
"Get out of the way, Deliverer. You as well, Lady Tribios. If the door won't open by itself, I'll just have to make it open."
He might break a few bones in his hand for the trouble, but they'll heal relatively quickly. Besides, he's dealt with far worse over the course of his life.
"Wait, De! Don't hurt yourself!" exclaims Tribbie. "Snowy, do you see anything that might help the two of you get out of there?"
"Hmm, let me see..."
Phainon begins looking around as instructed and finds a scrap of paper on the counter that apparently has a riddle written on it. He brings it over to the door so that both Mydei and Tribbie can hear when he reads the contents out loud.
"Welcome, heroes, to this kitchen and game of mine. My request is simple: transform my bounty into something new, sublime. Please me, and soon you shall know: all that you seek and a way home.
"Oh, this must be a challenge left by the great Phagousa," Phainon says. "It makes sense—they are the Titan of Banquets in addition to oceans and wine, after all." He scans the clue once more. "I think... we need to cook a feast in order to get out of here and obtain the information Aglaea sent us here for."
Mydei only stares at Phainon. How by the River of Souls did he get all that from such a cryptic bunch of words?
"You're so smart, Snowy!"
"... I still think you should just let me break down the door," Mydei grumbles to himself. "This is a lot of work just to get out of here. And probably a lot more riddles."
"We don't want to upset Phagousa, De. We need their good will if we want to locate Thanatos."
"Hmph."
"Come on, Mydei," Phainon cajoles, bumping their shoulders together. "Just... think of this as another battle, but in the kitchen this time. We could even make this a competition."
"Do you even know how to cook?"
"Of course I do."
"You've never volunteered before."
"You kick me out every time I linger too long," Phainon protests.
"That's because you—" Mydei cuts himself off, heaving a sigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. "You know what, forget it. We don't have time to waste on pointless arguments."
"I can agree with that."
"Let's set up the kitchen first," Mydei continues. "It will take a while for the oven to heat up, and we need to boil water for sanitation purposes. There's a pile of firewood over there."
"Got it," says Phainon. He scoops up an armful of logs. "Shall we split up the work? I can fetch all the wood."
"Not like that. I'll prep the oven, you do the fire pit. You can boil water without being a nuisance, right?"
"Your lack of faith wounds me, Mydeimos."
He takes that as a yes. "Get the largest pot you can find for the water. Go take a look at the pool across the room and tell me how it is. Don't take anything from there if it looks too dirty—I don't want anyone getting sick. We'll figure something else out if we have to."
Phainon salutes, then the two of them split off to their tasks. Mydei begins arranging the wood in the oven and uses his personal flint to start a fire. He pokes at the burning logs with one of the metal tools nearby, stoking the flames to an appropriate level. Then, something white catches his eye. A scrap of paper. With directions for some sort of dough on it. Are they making bread?
"Hey, Mydei?" Phainon's voice interrupts his thoughts. "You might want to come over here..."
So much for the idea of Phainon not bothering him.
He lets out a sigh and crosses the room to the pond. "Is it really that bad, Deliverer? Or can you not tell when—" Mydei breaks off in disbelief, staring down into the water.
"Yeah," says Phainon. "That was my reaction, too."
Inside the pool, there are five large fish swimming in circles and a squid propelling itself through the middle. Small shellfish sit in the shallows, occasionally releasing a couple of bubbles. The water itself is also remarkably clean, nothing like the inky blackness they saw before, despite there being no obvious other source.
"How by Nikador did this happen?" Mydei mutters to himself. "I've never heard of a kitchen pond before."
"Who knows? Maybe Phagousa blessed these people. The city did worship them. They probably have all sorts of strange water magic." Phainon reaches into his pocket and produces a piece of paper. "Oh, by the way, I found this by the fire pit. Should I catch the squid and a few of the fish for the recipe? I saw a net we could use back there."
Mydei reaches out a hand to stop him. "Not yet. We don't know exactly what we're making and the fish will stay fresher if we leave them in there until we need them. Hopefully Phagousa prepared the clues in a sensible order to ensure everything finishes cooking at the same time."
"Surely the Titan of Banquets would have that level of foresight. Well, I'll just get the water for now, then. If you're done with the oven, maybe you could look for our first clue?"
"I know that." Mydei crosses his arms. "You're not the only one with a brain, Deliverer."
"Says the guy who would rather break his hand than solve a few riddles," Phainon counters.
"There's no reason to not just say what you mean."
Phainon's laughter at his weak response is high and bright, and Mydei turns away so Phainon can't see the smile forming on the edge of his lips. "Go boil the water," Mydei tells him. "I'm going to look for the flour."
Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be any readily accessible. Or at least none in Mydei's line of sight. He tries opening some cabinets and the chest that looks promising, only to discover that all of them are locked. While he normally would try to break them open instead of wasting time looking for a key, Mydei thinks back to Tribbie's earlier words. We don't want to upset Phagousa, De. We need their good will if we want to locate Thanatos.
Mydei sighs to himself before turning his attention to the issue of sanitation. He finds soap near a big wash basin and clean-looking towels in a nearby basket with a lid. He should probably wash them just to be safe, though.
"Phainon, how's the water coming along?"
"Almost ready, just a little longer... Aaand done. Where do you want it? And how much?"
"Just enough for cleaning, in the basin over here." Mydei watches Phainon heft a medium-sized pot over to the counter as he asked. "You split the water into two?"
"Oh, right," he says. "We learned at the Grove that water boils faster when more of its surface is exposed to the fire. Same principle applies to cooling, but with the air. I thought we might save some time since there's no shortage of firewood here."
Mydei nods along to his explanation, wetting a cloth and scrubbing it with the soap. "Good idea. Maybe get another pot going while you're at it."
"One other thing." Phainon reaches into his coat pocket and fishes out a key. "I found this in the pool with the fish. Maybe it unlocks something useful."
"I have a feeling I know what that thing is."
Sure enough, the key fits perfectly in the keyhole of the large chest he found earlier. Inside are a sack of flour, a small jar of yeast, an additional key, and another piece of parchment.
"Let's start off simple," Mydei recites. "I'll give you all you knead. Just find the right ingredients in order to proceed. But combine carefully, lest you make someone ill. You're not the only ones who need to eat their fill.
"Step one. In a large bowl, combine warm water, yeast, and sugar and stir until dissolved. Add half a cup of flour and let the mixture sit for fifteen minutes, until it begins to foam."
He looks up to see Phainon frowning. "... I'll admit, this time I have no idea what the second half of the riddle means."
"Not so high and mighty, after all," Mydei says, crossing his arms with a smirk. "The answer lies in the directions we were given: yeast has to be fed. I'm assuming we're being warned not to accidentally kill it. We'll probably have to distinguish between sugar and salt in the upcoming puzzle."
Before they proceed, however, the two of them decide to finish readying their workspace. Mydei removes his gauntlets while Phainon discards his arm guards and glove. They wash their hands, then the remaining towels, all the counters, a few bowls, a cutting board, and a large spoon. Next, they turn their attention to the second key. This one opens a cupboard above the counter to reveal two small jars filled with white crystals, proving Mydei's earlier theory. Phainon tastes each in turn to find the sugar before passing it to Mydei, who prepares the yeast mixture as outlined.
Another step is pasted inside the cupboard door, instructing them on how to finish preparing the dough, but there are no other hints to be found. Phainon and Mydei turn over every inch of the cabinet and other containers, looking for any false panels or scraps of paper they could have missed. But all the two of them come up with are the individual letters painted underneath the lids of the salt and sugar. They don't spell anything, nor are they enough to open the combination lock to what they suspect is more ingredients.
Eventually, they return to the previous clue.
"... start off simple... give you all you knead," Phainon mumbles, reciting the verse to himself. "Just find the right ingredients in order to proceed.
"It has to be in the first half of the riddle, right? We already used the second half to feed the yeast." Mydei nods at this logic, and Phainon begins pacing. "'Knead' obviously refers to the dough. Find the right ingredients—oh! What if there are more of those jars hidden around the room?"
"And if we find the rest of them, we get the rest of the letters for the combination lock," Mydei finishes.
Phainon crosses the room, counting the rotating letters on the lock. "There are six spaces here, so we need to find four more. Assuming we don't also need to determine which out of the lids contain the correct password."
Mydei groans. Multi-layer puzzles? Did Phagousa enlist Zagreus's help here?
"Now, where did that Kremnoan tenacity go? Are you ceding your victory to me already?"
"Like Thanatos I am," Mydei grits out.
"Then you better be quick," Phainon teases, holding up a container. "I've already found one."
The two of them quickly get swept up in the competition, searching through baskets, the wall of pottery on the floor, dark corners, and anywhere else they can think of. Mydei finds one tucked away with the braziers, then another stashed in the basket of towels. Then, he looks over to see Phainon scaling a wall to grab the jar sitting on a narrow ledge before jumping back down.
With six jars located, they decide to give the combination lock a go with a few possible orderings of the letters. It unlocks on the second try, giving them access to various oils, vinegars and sauces, as well as the next step for the dough and another hint. Mydei adds the oil, salt, and flour to the bowl with the yeast, stirring until everything is integrated nicely, then kneads the dough until it becomes smooth.
Phainon, meanwhile, gets to work on solving the next riddle. It leads him to a prophecy tablet across the room, which doesn't take him all too long to solve. Mydei looks up at his victorious shout just in time to watch the air beside the tablet ripple and reveal a wooden trap door set into the floor.
"Mydei! I found the root cellar!"
"Good for you," Mydei calls back. He transfers the dough into a bigger bowl and covers it with a towel. "Is there anything in there that says what we're supposed to do next?"
"Uh, looks like we need to sauté some onions and garlic. It specifies using a large pot, so I guess that means the fire pit again?"
"On it."
Grabbing the largest pot he can find, Mydei washes it before exchanging it for two tear onions and a head of garlic from Phainon. He follows the instructions to chop both, then scrapes them into a bowl which he carries over to the fire pits along with the olive oil. It doesn't take long for the oil to heat, nor for the onions or garlic to soften up nicely. Mydei barely even notices Phainon is gone until he reappears with a jar of wolfpeppers; apparently, they're to be added next before being left to simmer over the fire for fifteen minutes.
That leaves them time to figure out the next clue, which Phainon reads aloud:
"You have the next step, save an ingredient or two. Make haste to obtain them, or I fear you'll burn my stew. I'm feeling generous so the first part is free: go check beneath the fir tree."
There are no actual trees in the kitchen, but there are several large murals on exposed areas of the kitchen walls. One features a great evergreen rendered in a deep emerald, a small assortment of containers at its roots. Phainon and Mydei sort through the ceramic pots to find the ingredients they need. Two jars hold the green and black olives for the relish, but they're still missing cilantro, rue, and mint.
Mydei then notices a small box tucked away in a corner and picks it up to examine. The box has a complex maze with two marbles on the top and is sealed firmly shut. He dusts the thing off, then brings it up to his nose for a sniff—it smells like herbs.
"What's that?" Phainon asks, leaning in to peer at the box.
"Likely the other container we're looking for," Mydei says. "But the lid is secured by the components on top. I can't open it."
"All right, I guess it's time to solve another puzzle, then. Hand it over to me, will you, Mydei?"
Mydei's pride surges at the underlying assumption that Phainon is the obvious choice for unlocking the mechanism. He moves the box further out of the other man's reach. "Not a chance, Deliverer. You go chop the olives. I'll handle this one."
"Really."
"Is the notion so absurd to you?"
"No, no," Phainon says, even though everything else about him seems to indicate the opposite. "I have complete faith in you, Mydeimos."
"Hmph."
As Phainon goes to deal with the olives, Mydei returns to the small box in his hands. He inspects the mechanism in more detail this time, turning the container around to scrutinize from several different angles. The challenge, it seems, will be to ensure both marbles remain on track while tilting the box.
Surely a glorified marble maze can't be that difficult, right?
But after he loses count of how many times his two marbles become misaligned, or one of them falls into a trap or dead end, Mydei just about wants to smash the box into a thousand pieces. He just can't decide whether it would be more satisfying to hurl the container against the nearest wall, or to rip it apart with his bare hands.
"Why. Won't. You. Open," he growls at the offending thing. He starts to pry the two halves apart by the hinges before a chiding voice stops him.
"Uh ah uh, Mydeimos," Phainon says, far too gleeful for his liking. "You can't do that. Breaking things is cheating."
Mydei makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat, seething. The fact that Phainon is probably right makes the situation that much more infuriating.
"Do you need my help?"
"No, I'm fine," Mydei grinds out.
He will solve this on his own, Nikador be damned.
Resetting the puzzle for the upteenth time, Mydei forces himself to take a breath and calm down. No general has ever come up with an effective strategy beyond brute force and sheer numbers when angry. If he thinks about this maze with its traps like a would-be battlefield in dangerous enemy territory, maybe he can finally wrap his head around it. And if that's the case...
He scans the terrain of the maze, now seeing it in a new light as he maps out the pain points and the best possible routes. He guides the marbles carefully through his chosen path for each one of them, as if they were two of his own soldiers working in tandem. And finally, the stone orbs sink into the correct place and unlock the box with a satisfying click.
Mydei allows himself a single, celebratory "yes" underneath his breath as he sorts through the bundles of dried herbs that Phainon needs. He picks out cilantro, rue, and mint to be crumbled over the chopped olives.
Phainon is leaning against the counter, waiting for him.
"Took you long enough," he teases.
"Shut up."
The addition of the herbs finishes off the relish, which is then transferred to a lidded jar. It receives a dash more oil over the top before being sealed and put aside.
They return to the cabinet with the sauces and oils for a bottle of Phagousa's fine brew to add to the garlic, onions, and wolfpeppers. Mydei empties its contents into the pot, inhaling the fragrant scent, then adds two bay leaves and one sprig of rosemary from the herb box. While he waits for the alcohol to evaporate, he sends Phainon to catch the Spiraleye squid from the small pond.
"No problem. You know, I was quite the talent at catching fish in my village. I'll have it ready for you in no time," Phainon declares.
"See that you do."
Mydei is glad that at least one of them is eager to handle the seafood. Unlike Phainon, he has less than fond childhood memories of the creatures that dwell underwater. Once he learned how to swim, it was the other things that lived in the Sea of Souls that caused most of his early deaths. He may have eventually emerged victorious from his battle against that great devil of a squid, but the vice grip of tentacles around his neck and various limbs is not a sensation easily forgotten.
So when it's time to chop up the Spiraleye for the stew, Mydei tries not to look at the creature too closely. Thankfully, though, his knife skills are good enough that he only needs a few quick cuts before the tentacles are ready to go in the pot.
Once he dumps them in, Mydei notices Phainon's lingering gaze on him.
"Hey, Mydei?" he says. "How did you learn how to do all this stuff?"
Mydei raises an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know, just... I didn't expect Kremnoans would be interested in the culinary arts."
"Well, we have to eat somehow."
The words hang uncomfortably in the air for a long moment. In the silence, Mydei can't help but think of his old comrades—Perdikkas, Leonnius, Hephaestion, Ptolemy, and Peucesta. Those years they spent roaming Amphoreus together were a much better period in his life than the one preceding it. Learning Kremnoan traditions from them, sitting around the fire while the food they caught roasted over a spit or boiled in a large pot... sometimes it's hard not to miss it.
Mydei swallows. Talking about them would mean talking about their deaths, and it's not like Phainon is really asking about that. He shouldn't say anything.
At the same time, his own deflection from earlier also seems overly cold in retrospect.
He compromises with something in between with a heavier exhale than he intends. "There was a time in my life that I didn't have people to do it for me. And I found that I liked making things with my own two hands."
Phainon smiles, the tension between them broken. "It's impressive, you know? Most warriors aren't equally skilled both in the kitchen and on the battlefield."
Mydei doesn't know how to respond. "Um, thank you." He goes to wash his hands and the knife, focusing on scrubbing a little too intently. Clearing his throat as he grabs a towel, he says, "Let's keep moving, Deliverer. We still have a long way to go with this feast."
The next step leads them back to the root cellar for a young gourd. Setting up a clean cutting board, Mydei slices it into medium-sized pieces and tosses them into a waiting pot filled with water. Once they begin to soften through the boiling process, he drains the pot and arranges the squash neatly in a flat baking dish. Phainon sprinkles salt over the slices, then reads the next riddle.
"Good job, you are about halfway done. Hasn't this all been loads of fun? Just find two more ingredients, a perfect pair. They lie among the painted earthenware."
The two of them turn to look toward the wall of decorated pottery on the other side of the room, then back at the paper in Phainon's hand.
"Well," he says, forcing a smile, "I suppose this means we have to work together for this one."
Mydei makes a vague noise of agreement. This time, the clue seems only marginally more helpful than brute-forcing the puzzle by opening every jar individually to find the pine kernels and wine-soaked dates they need.
But as they approach, Mydei soon realizes that he was mistaken. Thanks to the neat arrangement, he can see all the artwork without needing to lift a hand. It's too much to take in at once, but it should be doable with another person.
He and Phainon split off to the right side and left side respectively, working their way inward and calling out the images and patterns they see.
"I've got a few of the sea sirens worshiping Phagousa. Anything like that on your side, Mydei?"
"No, these people all have legs." He continues down the row. "How about amphora with rings that look sort of like pauldron?"
"Be more specific? What else is there?"
"Uh. Lots of warriors. Usually with spears and shields."
"Some square-ish, hook-like patterns?"
"... I think so?"
"And the handles have these connecting zigzags, right? With lines that touch at the vertices."
Mydei has never even heard of that last term. "What are you even talking about?"
"You know, like a chkchkchkchk?" Phainon indicates something with his fingers, but it's as incomprehensible as his verbal explanation. Mydei just stares, and Phainon seems to grow increasingly desperate. "A bunch of M's and W's touching at the points? X's?"
Sensing the futility of listening more, Mydei squints at the vase in front of him. The only thing that vaguely resembles anything is...
"The diamonds?"
"Yes! Diamonds!" Phainon exclaims. "You have them too?"
Mydei is almost tempted to tell him no after being subjected to his terrible descriptions. But instead, he just picks up the container in question and carries it over. Sure enough, the two are a perfect match.
"Huh, I guess they really do look like diamonds..." Phainon muses.
"Who would ever think of this pattern based on what you said?"
"Well, I'm sorry I have joy and whimsy in my life."
At that, Mydei barks out a laugh—"You're so weird, Deliverer"—but he can't deny the good humor underlying the remark.
They carry the matching amphora to the counter where the gourd is, falling into an easy rhythm; Mydei pits the dates while Phainon mashes them into a paste with the pine kernels. As Phainon continues to work the mortar and pestle and mixes in the remaining ingredients, Mydei goes to check on the oven fire and feeds it a few more logs. He also gives the soup over the fire pit a stir before preparing the fish and starshells. These, Mydei minds handling less compared to the squid, though he still avoids eating or cooking any type of seafood when he has the choice.
When he returns from scraping the fish chunks and starshells into the pot, Phainon is pouring the finished sauce over the squash slices. And then it's time to get back to the dough that's been sitting all this time.
Phainon puts a clean pizza stone into the oven to warm, and Mydei dusts the counter with flour to knead the dough on. He punches the dough down, turns it out, then divides it into eight pieces which are rolled into balls. They rest for ten more minutes before further handling.
Since there aren't other things to do, Phainon and Mydei split up the dough balls equally to roll into individual-sized rounds. Mydei finishes his quickly, then turns to see Phainon is still on his first one. He carefully rolls out the edges, then lets out a noise of frustration and crumples the circle back up before trying again.
"What are you doing?"
Phainon startles, clearly having been deep in concentration. "Trying to get them to be exactly a quarter of an inch thick, with a six inch diameter like the recipe said."
"There's no need to be that precise," Mydei tells him. "You're going to ruin the texture if you overwork it."
"But what if Phagousa—"
"I promise you, Phagousa isn't going to care. Most recipes don't require this level of precision. Now, are you going to finish those?"
Once all eight rounds are prepped, Mydei quickly pulls out the pizza stone and arranges half of the uncooked pitas on top before sliding them back into the oven. He and Phainon watch as the bread puffs up and turns golden brown after a few minutes, and Mydei dumps the first batch into a lined basket before cooking the remaining ones the same way. The baked pitas are then covered with a clean towel to be kept warm.
Thirty minutes have passed since the seafood went into the stew, meaning it's ready to serve, other than adding salt and pepper to taste. Phainon kills the fire underneath the pot so the soup doesn't overcook. Then, he and Mydei turn their attention to what apparently should be the final two pieces of paper. The first is the riddle:
"We're nearing the end, be sure to make this last one count. I wonder, if with your efforts, my challenge you shall surmount. Make your offerings, and soon we will see: Is this feast worthy of my divinity?"
The other contains the recipe. Mydei stares at it, squinting.
"This... just looks like a honeycake recipe," he says slowly.
"That's good news, right? You can basically make them in your sleep."
"I suppose that's true."
He goes to collect the familiar ingredients: flour, water, and honey, then some oil for cooking. Mydei fetches a brazier next, cleaning it before retrieving some coal to light in the lower chamber.
"Do you need my help for anything?" Phainon asks.
"No, this is a one person job," Mydei says, grabbing a mixing bowl. "Go re-read the riddle or something."
"Okay, just let me know."
Phainon doesn't take Mydei's advice, instead following him around the kitchen like some sort of lost puppy as he gathers the ingredients and tools for the honeycakes. Usually, Mydei wouldn't care much, but somehow the other man always seems to stand exactly in the way of what Mydei needs.
"Sorry, sorry."
"It's fine, just try not to let it happen again."
He means what he says the first few times, but after Phainon gets underfoot a fourth or fifth time, Mydei finally snaps.
"Go sit over there and look pretty while you decipher the rest of that riddle, hks! We still don't know how to present the food to Phagousa."
"You... think I look pretty?"
His own words catch up to him, and Mydei looks away, avoiding Phainon's gaze. "... just decipher the final clue, Deliverer."
The other man laughs, recovering first. "All right, I'll stop teasing you for now. But don't think that I'll forget about this. I do have a perfect memory, after all."
Right now, I wish you didn't, Mydei thinks, trying to ignore his too-warm cheeks as he mixes the batter.
But Phainon is true to his word and goes to study the last riddle, out of Mydei's way. The lack of distractions gives him the opportunity to get the oil frying and the first honeycake cooking. Mydei flips the cake three times until it's a nice, even color, then transfers it to a waiting plate. He repeats the process seven more times, making two thick stacks. The honeycakes are finished by drizzling the remaining honey over them, topped with a light sprinkle of sesame seeds.
Putting the coals out, Mydei wanders back over to Phainon.
"So what do you think?" he asks. "How are we to serve this feast?"
"I'm not completely sure," Phainon admits. "It's not quite as clear as some of the other riddles. But given the mention of divinity and Phagousa's association with water, I'm guessing a safe bet would be to present the dishes by the small pool over there. Perhaps we could even set up a makeshift altar."
Mydei nods. If they have nothing else to go on, this idea seems reasonable enough.
He and Phainon get to work assembling the banquet table. They balance a large wooden board over several flat rocks, then carry the food over. Mydei arranges and rearranges the five dishes, a sense of dissatisfaction lodged in his chest. It's not a bad spread altogether, but all he can see are his (and to a degree, Phainon's) mistakes. The pitas aren't quite circles, the seafood in the stew is overcooked from when they spent too long on a puzzle, and the sauce over the gourd is drizzled unevenly. He knows he could have done a better job if he was in his kitchen in Okhema, but he supposes these were unusual circumstances.
Hopefully Phagousa is feeling forgiving and doesn't view this as an affront to their domain.
As Mydei fiddles further with the presentation, Phainon locates a container of honey brew that he brings over and opens. The addition of the alcohol, at least, makes the entire table feel more festive and appropriate as an offering to the Chalice of Plenty.
He pours a cup for the Ocean Titan, then one more for each of them. Phainon leads the recitation of a common prayer from the Month of Joy, then they wait.
Nothing happens at first, but then the door begins to shutter before opening with a groan. The two of them turn to each other, eyes shining as they let out matching celebratory shouts. Phainon pumps his fist in the air, grinning widely, and Mydei can't stop smiling either.
"Snowy! De! You're okay!"
Tribbie flies into the room, taking in the large kitchen as she goes to join them.
"Lady Tribbie," Phainon says, the relief evident in his tone. He looks her up and down. "You aren't hurt anywhere, are you?"
She lets out a laugh. "Snowy, you're talking like we were the ones who were trapped in a locked room for a few hours. We're fine."
Mydei understands his concern. "Even so, you were without protection for all that time."
"Silly De and Snowy—we're used to finding secret hiding spots during missions. And if it was really dangerous, we could always have opened another century gate." Tribbie turns and spots the five dishes laid out on the small table. "Wow, look at all this food you made! And it smells so delicious!"
"Of course, anything for the mission and an easy thing when Mydei's involved." Then Phainon frowns. "Although thinking about it... we still haven't found any information about Thanatos. I thought we would after finishing the feast, based on the first clue and all, but only the door seems to have opened up again. Unless we missed something."
"Maybe," says Tribbie. "Should we take a look around?"
But try as they might, the three of them don't manage to find anything about the Death Titan. Other than the newly-dirty dishware, nothing seems to have changed about the room since Mydei first entered it. They even try cleaning the kitchen and, by Phainon's request, having Tribbie recite another prayer for Phagousa, but there's no answer from the God of Banquets.
At least, though, they don't try to close the door again.
"That's so weird," says Phainon, looking frustrated. "Based on the first clue, we should have found something."
"So what do we do now?" Mydei asks.
"We think it's best to return to Okhema and report back to Agy." Tribbie looks at both of them with apologetic eyes. "Sorry for dragging you both out here on a bad lead."
"It's not your fault, Teacher," Phainon reassures her. "We all want to progress the Flame-Chase in whatever ways we can. Not all of our attempts will lead to something useful."
"Well," Tribbie says, touching a finger to her lips in thought, "maybe we could bring back some of the food you made?"
"Is it okay to take it with us when we made it for Phagousa?"
"What if we just take enough for all of us Chrysos Heirs back in Okhema? I'm sure it will be fine as long as we leave an offering," Phainon reasons. "Besides, banquets are all about coming together and celebrating. Surely the Ocean Titan would want us to partake in the festivities as well."
Mydei still finds the whole thing a little bit strange, but he goes along with the plan since it's two against one. He and Phainon assemble a generous plate for the Titan of Banquets and Wine, then pack up the rest of the feast into whatever empty containers they can find. Tribbie carries the basket with the pita bread and relish, Phainon the gourd and honeycakes, and Mydei the large pot of fish stew. He pours one more ladleful of soup onto the ground in offering to Phagousa, then the three of them leave the kitchen.
Tribbie opens a century gate outside, and Phainon disappears into the bright Holy City without a single glance back. It's Mydei's turn next, as Tribbie has to be the last one through.
Yet just as he steps through the gate, Mydei catches a glimpse of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turns, seeing the glint of something golden just as the gate closes. But he's not given time to reflect on it as a passerby on the street bumps into him, nearly making him drop the large pot. Then, Phainon and Tribbie are urging him to hurry back to the Marmoreal Palace before the food goes cold.
Whatever. Maybe it was just a trick of the light.
They find Aglaea without much trouble and explain the situation to her. Phainon is the one to give the report, recounting the mission from the initial search of the ruins to the cooking challenge—hence the food—and then the lack of information on Thanatos. When describing the last part, Phainon wonders out loud if they had been mistaken in assuming the game was connected to their search for the Hand of Shadow. Perhaps it was set long before Styxia was abandoned.
Aglaea listens without interrupting, expression inscrutable as always, then nods once. "Very well, I understand. It is unfortunate this lead ultimately bore no fruit beyond what lies in your hands, but the Flame-Chase Journey will continue regardless."
"I would hope so," Phainon jokes. "Failure to collect intel would be an awfully minor reason to forsake the promise of Era Nova."
Mydei rolls his eyes. "I'd consider it if it meant never having to cook with you again."
"What could you possibly mean, Mydeimos? The two of us made a great team."
"I could have done it without you."
"Only by destroying Phagousa's kitchen, you mean."
Mydei is about to retort when he catches Aglaea regarding him and Phainon with interest, the hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. His suspicions from earlier return in full force.
"Aglaea," he says. "May I speak to you alone?"
"Of course, Mydeimos." She turns to Tribbie and Phainon. "Why don't the two of you go on ahead and plate the food for everyone? Have Trianne and Trinnon help you. Mydei and I will be along shortly."
"Will do, Lady Goldweaver."
"See you in a bit, Agy."
As soon as his two companions are out of earshot, Mydei says, "This excursion was never about finding Thanatos, was it?"
It's not a question and, sensing this, Aglaea doesn't bother answering. Mydei continues.
"We never actually encountered Phagousa during any part of this trip and simply assumed they were the one to set up this challenge. There were some hints that its creator was the Ocean Titan, but those are easy to fabricate. Most of what we knew was based on our mission briefing," Mydei reasons. "Not to mention that many of the ingredients we found were far fresher than one would expect from food sitting in a long-abandoned city.
"Lady Tribios was also strangely calm after Phainon and I got trapped inside the ruins. She didn't immediately send for help, or let me break down the door. I don't believe you or she would act on poor quality information without reason, either. And your reaction once we returned just now confirmed it.
"This was all a part of some grand scheme of yours."
Aglaea only looks at him with that cloudy gaze of hers. "I would also describe your countenance as rather calm despite the circumstances."
"I'm not mad about it, just confused," Mydei explains. "What purpose would you have for sending us all the way to Styxia to cook a banquet? I already cook for us in Okhema, and you could have asked me to let Phainon help."
"The exact location and direct outcome were not of particular importance," Aglaea says. "High-stakes situations reliably bring people together to overcome them. Rather than wait for one to occur naturally, I decided to weave one of my own."
"But the Flame-Chase Journey is already filled with them," Mydei argues. "You could have even just dropped us off somewhere near the black tide or filled with titankin. Why go to the lengths of planning something so elaborate?"
"What reason would I have to put my two best warriors' lives at risk unnecessarily?"
"I'm immortal anyway, so what does it matter? I'd be able to ensure Phainon and Lady Tribios's safety in most situations."
"That's no reason for me to get you killed either, Mydeimos. You are an important member of the Chrysos Heirs."
Aglaea's words make him pause, and then it's Mydei's turn to regard her with interest. While she is often aloof, he has never known Aglaea to be the type of leader to sacrifice her people. She may scheme unlike a Kremnoan, but it is not out of malicious intent. The Goldweaver of Okhema only wishes to secure the new world promised by the prophecy for the civilians living through these end times.
"You asked why I went to the effort of planning something so elaborate," Aglaea says after a while. "It is Phagousa's birthday, after all, and I have my methods. Thanks to your and Phainon's efforts today, we now have a proper feast to celebrate the occasion as a team."
Mydei smiles at that—"I suppose you're not wrong"—and he follows Aglaea to join the other Chrysos Heirs for a banquet worthy of the Ocean Titan themself.