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Tartah kept an eye behind them as they wove through the crowd, Coco guiding the way as they checked out the stalls of the market. The road was stuffed with witches and outsiders alike, all exploring to their hearts content the magics put on display and homemade goods warm in baskets. It was still a few weeks away until Silver Eve, so there weren’t nearly enough people to cause distress for their friend, Coustas, who tailed behind in his sealchair, the gait slower as to properly inspect everything around him. No, most were preparing for the journey or sorting their wares to sell. Needless to say, it was a perfect day to get out and see what was around.
Tartah glanced back to check Coco’s location, then stumbled over an uneven cobblestone when she disappeared from his sight. He parted his lips, ready to call out for her as he searched the crowd, but then he felt a poke at his side. He glanced down to see Coustas who simply pointed to the left. Tartah followed his gesture and found her spellbound to a shop just out of his sight until he turned his head in a way he hadn’t yet. He sent Coustas a sheepish smile, then acted as a shield for them both to cross to where she was oogling a dessert in a warming chamber.
“You guys!” She exclaimed, starry eyed and sighing in delight. “This is one of my favorite desserts! It’s called an apple dumpling– gosh, I haven’t had one in ages!”
“An apple… dumpling?” Coustas replied. He tilted his head as he came to a stop at her side, glancing in on the treat. “... That doesn’t look like a dumpling.”
“It doesn’t,” Tartah muttered, staring at the dish with unfettered curiosity. “The dumplings I’ve had are usually fluffier than that.”
“... Fluffier?” Coustas asked incredulously. “Are you talking about mashed potatoes?”
Tartah stared down at him. “... Where are the potatoes coming from? Do you put potatoes in your dumplings?”
“No, the potatoes are the dumpling,” Coustas explained, looking a little frustrated as he moved his hands in the air as though miming out making a classic dumpling Tartah was used to– namely not what this apple dumpling was. “You use the potatoes and then roll it in breadcrumbs. Sometimes you add things to it, but it’s usually plumfruits, not apples. Apples are a bit odd.”
Coco and Tartah thought about that for a moment before Tartah hummed. “I see. The dumplings I make are usually flour-based. It doesn’t really have the composition to hold anything in it unless the addition is already cooked, I guess. Either way, they usually stand by themselves.”
“These are usually boiled,” Coco explained, “but sometimes people fry them. Now that I’m thinking about it, my mother used to make little dumplings by pouring a mix into a strainer over hot water.”
They all stared at each other for a moment, silent in their bewilderment, then back at the apple dumpling that should have been called something entirely different at this rate. As they stared, Coco mumbled, “I guess… I guess we’ve all eaten different kinds of foods growing up. It’s so strange to think of, sometimes, how big the world is now that I’ve stepped into it.”
Tartah sent her a smile, nodding in agreement. “Imagine how much food we haven’t tried that’d be commonplace to another.”
That had Coco gasping. She bounced on her heels with excitement as she turned. “Oh! It’s around lunchtime, isn’t it? What if we all found something from a stall and have a little picnic away from the crowds? We can each find something we think no one else has had and then bring it!”
Tartah thought over the suggestion briefly, lips pursing in thought as he resisted glancing to Coustas. “Maybe… but I did pack enough food that we can all have lunch together. I can run back to the hospital and grab it now if we are hungry.”
“What if we only grab a little bit so we don’t spoil our appetite?”
“I think it’s a fine idea.” Tartah bit the inside of his cheek as Coustas shrugged, looking around at the stalls. “It sounds fun.”
Coco brightened immediately; she clapped her hands together as she sang, “Perfect! Then let’s all split up and meet back at the fountain in a half hour!”
Tartah smiled despite himself. Before either of them could speak further, Coco spun on her heel and vanished eagerly into the crowds, nearly clipping shoulders with a passing vendor carrying steaming skewers overhead. She disappeared faster than Tartah could manage to keep up with, but he did chuckle to himself when she left the perfect food to bring: apple dumplings. He’d just buy one alongside his own treat he selected, wherever that may be. He’d need all thirty minutes he could get to inspect each stall sign beside their pastries and retrieve the rest of their food afterall.
The moment she disappeared, the noise around them settled differently as Tartah moved his satchel bag in front of him though his attention drifted sideways toward Coustas. The boy had grown quieter than when the idea was first suggested.
Tartah hesitated, then carefully remarked as he fiddled with his bag, “Festival food can get pretty expensive nowadays.”
Coustas’ expression shuttered immediately, not dramatic or distinct enough for most people to notice, but Tartah has witnessed many sides of him in the short time they’ve known each other. He also knows that Dagda, Coustas’ guardian, has been working incessantly to afford the care at the hospital. He has come up the stairs once or twice and has heard the hushed pleas of Coustas begging him to leave him, to not burden himself with Coustas’ mistake. Any money that graced them was better spent not on pricy food to split with friends.
“I can figure it out,” Coustas replied, his tone betraying none of the way his finger ran along the arm of his sealchair in thought. Tartah couldn’t tell if it was a nervous tick or irritation festering, but he did know it wasn’t without purpose. “I’m not helpless.”
“I know that,” Tartah blurted out, quick to dismiss such a thought. Coustas gave a noncommittal hum, though his finger continued tracing along the arm of his sealchair in slow repetition. Tartah awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “I just meant there’s probably better things to spend your money on right now.””
At that, Coustas let out a quiet laugh. “That would imply I have money to spend.”
Without entirely thinking it through, Tartah reached into his satchel and pulled out his coin purse. He dropped five into his palm, then held it out, forcing it into Coustas’ hand when he didn’t react. “Then you can use mine.”
Coustas frowned. “No.”
“It’s fine, really. I get paid at the Starry Sword, and sometimes I get commissions too, so it’s really nothing–”
“That’s not the point.” Tartah faltered. Coustas pouted, glancing down as he muttered, “I don’t want you giving me things because you feel bad for me.”
Heat flooded across Tartah’s face as he stuttered out, “That’s not it at all! I actually—” He scrambled momentarily before uttering, “This is payment for you: I want your help with something.”
Coustas paused, eyes drifting back to him with lingering suspicion in their guardedness. “... Help you? With what?”
Tartah stopped, lips parted as he fumbled on the clear air. The horrifying thing was that he genuinely couldn’t think of anything immediately off the top of his head, but it was the most likely scenario that Coustas would accept money in. As he stood there, thinking, he watched the moment sour in real time on Coustas’ unimpressed face.
“I see,” Coustas muttered, his voice flat as he rolled his eyes–
“Oh!” Tartah straightened. “The Silver Eve Festival.”
Coustas blinked. “What about it?”
“The shop gets really busy during it every year,” Tartah explained, relaxing now that he actually had footing again. At least the flustered warmth on his face was beginning to dim as he spoke of business. “My granddad always complains because people crowd around the displays but rarely come up unless someone greets them first, but there’s only the two of us. If we had someone to help bring people in or hand out flyers, that’d be a tremendous help. And you are so good with people, so you’d be a natural!”
Coustas appeared to think it over, his lips still pressed into a slight frown. Finally, he asked, “... You think I’m good with people?”
“Yes, you are,” Tartah said with more confidence now. He gestured vaguely to the air. “Everyone always speaks so nicely about you, the nurses love you, I l—like spending time with you, so does Coco. You have a way about you that’d draw in more customers than I ever could. I’m not good with crowds or dealing with so many new people all at once– you should see me when the shop gets busy.”
Coustas’ ears darkened faintly from Tartah’s view; the boy let out a scoff, letting his chin rest on the back of his hand as he said, “So you’re exploiting my charm for business purposes– I can’t say that’s a first. I have an irresistible, adorable presence afterall.”
Tartah huffed in amusement. “Sure. I already told you you are approachable. What more do you need when you are clearly already going to accept?”
Coustas flashed him a toothy grin. “Because watching you struggle through compliments is entertaining. What, you don’t want to praise me more? I am doing a kindness in helping you out after all.”
Tartah shook his head, though a reluctant smile tugged at him anyway. “You’re impossible.”
“That’s not what you were saying a minute ago when you were speaking so highly of me. C’mon, Tartah, do you get shy around me?”
“I was just trying to being nice.”
“Mmmhm.” Coustas glanced up through his thick eyelashes. “Your ears are red.”
Tartah slapped a hand over one ear while Coustas barked out a laugh. He hit his chair arm as he cackled, wiping a tear from his eyes. Tartah cleared his throay. "We are running out of time. Remember to meet at the fountain soon, alright?”
Coustas nodded, his teasing smirk lessening as he looked back around the market. Tartah turned to purchase one of the apple dumplings; when he turned around again, Coustas was nowhere to be seen.
When he later arrived at the fountain with both the lunches and his treats, he found out he was the last to arrive much to Coustas’ further teasing and Coco’s joyful greeting for his return. Once they reunited, they sought for a spot to eat together and ended up finding a patch of grass in a less crowded area where only families lingered, relaxing after walking around so much. They sat in the grass, Coustas’ chair lowering so he could stretch his legs out, as they settled.
“We were worried you got lost,” Coustas said though his tone indicated no true worry. Coco nodded as she unwrapped her treat.
“I’m surprised you came back so soon! It’s a long walk to the hospital.” She presented a vanilla looking slice of cake. Toasted almonds covered the top and Tartah could feel his mouth salivating at the sweet scent wafting from it. He handed her a set of utensils and she carefully divided the treat into three equal sections. “This is called bienenstich: it’s a creamy vanilla buttercream filled cake with honey-caramelized almonds on top. My mom would always buy me some when we went into town if the bakery was open. Please, try it!”
Though Tartah laid out all their meal boxes and utensils as she spoke, giving her as much attention as he could, Coustas didn’t appear to notice. He reached forward and grabbed his piece with his bare fingers, then popped it into his mouth whole. He chewed it thoughtfully, wide eyes on Coco. Eventually, he nodded his head and said through his bite. “It’s good. Its texture is really nice– A bit sweet. Are all your desserts so sweet?”
“Ah, kind of,” Coco admitted bashfully, scratching her neck as she explained, “usually we sweeten with drizzlebee honey or fruits. I’ve tasted far sweeter things.”
“Really?” Coustas asked, sticking his tongue out once he was done. “The sugar is making my tongue feel weird.”
“Are you sure you aren’t allergic to nuts?” Tartah asked worriedly as he took his piece. Coco ate hers, humming delightedly as she tasted it. Admittedly, upon trying it himself, Tartah also found it to be a bit too sweet for his general tastes: still, it wasn’t bad. Clearing his throat, Tartah presented the apple dumpling and his own find, a portion of carrageen pudding.
Admittedly, after the last dessert, Tartah was not surprised to find the apple dumpling was just as if not more sweet, but it did give a unique flavor with the cinnamon sugar packed into the light, delicate pastry layers. When he cut into it, he cut himself a smaller slice and upon seeing Coustas’ begging gaze, gave him a smaller piece too to try. Coustas ended up asking for another piece, though Tartah could see clear conflict in his eyes on whether he enjoyed it or not. The taste was great– perhaps he didn’t like sugary things as much as he thought he did. Tartah enjoyed this one about the same as the cake.
When it was his turn, he set the cup in the middle. “This is a pudding that I ate a lot growing up. They use moss to make it the texture it is: the top has brown sugar on it, so if anyone needs a break from that, dig to the bottom.”
They each brought a spoon in, carefully balancing it on their way back to their laps. Tartah took the first bite, smiling a little as it was exactly as he expected it to be.
Coco ate hers next. “Oh, this is lovely.” She scooped up another spoonful before continuing more thoughtfully, “It’s a lot less sweeter than I expected, but its so rich in return!”
“The moss changes it,” Tartah explained, pleased despite himself that she seemed to enjoy it so much. He took another spoonful as he reminisced, “When I was younger, I refused to eat it after learning what it was made from. My mother would be so cross— I miss it now that I don’t have it as readily. The moss doesn’t grow in Kahln, but I suppose someone used magic to keep it fresh enough to sell here. There’s a sizable amount of immigrants in Kalhn from where I grew up, so there’s a lot of food options here that mimic my hometown. I guess there might be frequent migrants who are to thank for that.”
Coco hummed into her spoon at his story while Coustas inspected the pudding before finally taking a bite, as though expecting the moss to suddenly reveal itself unpleasantly halfway through chewing as Tartah did after already having tried it but now knowing the ingredients. Instead, his expression eased.
“Well?” Coco prompted, raising the bit still left on her spoon in emphasis.
Coustas swallowed. “It’s good. I just wasn’t expecting it to taste like that, but it kinda reminds me of milk snow, but dense. It’s pretty plain, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, people can add to it if they want. I’ve seen people add fruits, but I’ve always had it with the sugar on top,” Tartah explained.
Coustas nodded, “No, I like how it is. I can see why people would want to magic it and bring it far distances. It’s perfect for the weather here.”
Coco gasped softly, “Ah, I get what you mean! It’d be a nice dessert on any summer day.”
Tartah’s chest swelled with pride at the compliments, his face warm as they finished the pudding, Coustas taking the least in order to dig to the bottom of their own bites. When it was finished, he took the satchel bag he had drooped against the side of his seal chair and set it on his lap.
“Alright!” He announced, nose high in the air as though he had found the holy grail instead of a snack. “Move over; mine is next.”
He withdrew a cheesecloth wrapped parcel from inside the bag, and Tartah immediately noticed how much more gentle his movements became with it. Coustas always handled delicate things surprisingly well despite the roughness in his attitude and his own boisterousness: he knew when things needed care. When the cloth finally unfolded, it revealed three thinly sliced rounds of what looked like baked bread and a black tar spiral.
Coco leaned closer, her lips parting with awe. “What is it?”
“It’s poppyseed moon cake,” Coustas explained, sounding unbearably pleased with himself already. “This was the first dessert Dagxda gave to me when we first started traveling together.”
“That’s so cool!” Coco exclaimed, then began miming with her hands as she told them, “I also had mooncake when I was growing up, but didn’t look like this at all! It sort of looked like a pie? And the poppyseed part was more creamy and light looking than this.”
Tartah nodded. “I don’t think I grew up with anything called a mooncake, but we had poppyseed tea cakes. I wonder how big of a difference there is.”
Coustas carefully handed out each round which was more like a cake than a cookie despite its appearance on the cheesecloth. Tartah noticed almost immediately that the largest cut somehow ended up in his own hands, but he didn’t point it out. The pastry was softer than he expected, the outer crust delicate enough to crumble slightly beneath his fingers while the filling remained intact. When he raised it to his lips, he breathed in the earthly waft of the poppy interior. It smelt good; he could understand Coustas’ excitement.
Coco took the first bite, one hand beneath her mouth to catch the crumbs. Her eyes all but lit up. “Oh wow, this is what you ate when you were younger? It’s totally not as sweet as what I shared.”
Tartah had to agree— He could understand Coustas’ dislike of sugar because this completely lacked the bolster of flavor Coco’s desserts had and settled more favorably like his pudding: it was gentle on the tastebuds, almost like typical bread but with an elevated taste to it that more closely aligned to a sweet. It felt filling in a way that reminded him more of home cooking than festival desserts, and he found himself licking his lips when he was finished.
“It’s nice. I can’t believe they have so many different types of foods here,” Tartah admitted. “And I didn’t realize sharing sweets like this would be so fun. It's interesting how different we are when it comes to food.”
Coco giggled while carefully brushing crumbs from her skirt. She collected up their scraps and set them aside so they could eat the lunches Tartah brought as she said, “Right? We should do it again sometime! I still want to know how everyone makes their dumplings.”
“I agree. It’s nice to sit down together and learn something new.” Tartah then had a sudden revelation and correct himself, “However, I think it’d be nice if we try something else.”
Coustas and Coco both looked his way and he felt his face warm a little as he explained, “My grand dad’s house has a decent kitchen, and he doesn’t mind guests as long as we clean up afterward. We could have a cooking party instead, and everyone could bring recipes from home and teach the others.”
Coco gleamed, eyes becoming starry as she gushed, “That’s a great idea! Master Qifrey has so many cookbooks– I’m sure I could find something interesting to bring that I’ve had before.”
Coustas smiled, tilting his head. “Mm, I can figure out something. Someone I used to travel with taught me how to make candied flowers, so if we make another dessert, we can use them as a garnish.”
“You can candy flowers? Really?” Well, that settles that. They’d all be cooking together sometime soon. Probably after Silver Eve so grand dad doesn’t get overwhelmed about the noise while festival preparations are underway… Tartah sighed contently through his nose. So, a little more than a month away? That’s not too bad. It’ll give everyone time to prepare, and for Tartah to get any last minute ingredients they may need. “If we plan it for a nice day, we can have a whole outing where we can have others try it! I think Master Qifrey and Master Olruggio would be willing to help provide anything if we need it– Then the whole atelier can come, your grand dad, and Dagda too!”
Coustas beamed. “Well, we will have to do our best then. Let’s see… Coco?” He pointed to her. “You would read the recipes, and I’ll put them all together as you tell me to!”
Tartah raised his brow. “And what will I do?”
“Oh yeah, you, Tartah,” Coustas said as though he completely forgot about him. The little smirk and knowing glint in his eyes said otherwise as Coustas shrugged helplessly. “You can just reach the high ingredients on the shelves for us, okay?"
Tartah sent him a glare. “Excuse me?”
Coustas’ expression stayed perfectly neutral but it took no time at all before the corner of his mouth lifted, and then he was laughing. “You are the tallest, aren’t you? Gee, don’t take things so personally! You can be the one to be strict about the measurements and stuff.”
Tartah thought about that, then nodded slowly, still thinking it over. “Streamlining it could make things easier. You mix and pour, I’ll measure, and Coco can help with heating the oven and telling us what to do when. Depending on how much we need to make too, I can set up room for you both to stay the night.”
“Mm, I’ll need to check in before I say for sure,” Coco said. “It should be alright though. Kahln isn’t too bad of a distance if we set up a window-way in case anyone wants to check in.”
“I can’t,” Coustas replied, “but I can stay pretty late and come back early.”
“Hospital restrictions?” Coco asked, digging into her lunch.
“No, Dagda worries. I don’t want him to be alone.”
“That’s nice of you,” Coco replied, tapping her chin. “I suppose that makes sense. I’ll have to be sure to ask Master Qifrey to see how he feels. He can be a little worried too.”
With that, their plan was, for the most part, set. After Silver Eve, they’d come together and have a little day to themselves to cook and bake and prepare a large meal for their loved ones to all enjoy together. They’d each sit out in the bright sun beneath a limitless sky and bask in the glory of their efforts and friendship: a perfectly combined and in-sync team. Nothing could go wrong, and nothing could touch them, beneath the very same sky they’d experience soon enough, with or without each other.