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A single, wooden house stood watch over Alsin’s Landing. Many people paid it no mind; it was already overgrown and falling apart at its seams, moss growing over its exterior and interior lanterns all shattered.
And what’s a better place for brewing the most nefarious concoction imaginable than in a dilapidated house close above the ever lively Justicar fortress.
Swirling masses of dark energy surrounded the Voidwalker who used the fact his buddy-in-cooking was infamously hunted by the Divers to quickly make his way to the designated area. The seated Felinor tipped his hat upon noticing who just made his way into the house.
“Aye, Griff!” he addressed the enthusiastically waving Visionshaper, “Thought you wouldn’t come!”
“Sorry, sorry,” Griff chortled, “something took me along the way. Got a third person to help us, he’s kind of in the Depths right now though.”
“Dang.” John looked away. “Different Voidwalker?”
“Mm, nah. He willingly went there.” John found that one hard to believe, running his fingers through his bright orange hair, though the Kiron continued. “He’s really offered to talk to someone who did a similar thing on our behalf! How nice of him.”
The Felinor looked unamused. “Okay, what were we doing aga-” Griff somehow pulled a giant bone - at least his size and a half - out of his pocket. “Oh.”
John hopped off the scratched table he was sitting on and reached out to touch the bone. It felt intense and honestly felt like it was the one least safe thing to hold.
“Where the heck did you even get that…” he whispered examining the piece.
“Ahhhh- the Sleeping City? Under the Ethironal Shrine?” The Kiron looked away. That’d be hard to explain if John asked.
“I’m not even gonna- Whatever. I got my answer anyway, we’re… cooking this?” John asked, groaning as Griff nodded enthusiastically in response. The roofboards creaked, the sound followed by a roll off the roof and spin into the structure. A young looking Tiran with glasses and a dark red mop of hair covering half his face dashed inside, giving the other two a hasty wave.
“Hey, sorry I’m late, Enmity threw another tantrum over my existence. Gods he’s still salty over my first trial.” He sighed. “Authority seems to be the only one with a grip down there, swear to Alsin.” Griff’s eyes sparkled.
“Fern! Glad you made it out!” He extended a hand for Fern to take, turning towards John once he did. “John, that’s Fern! He offered to help us here.” The Justicar gave an awkward smile before moving to lean against a nearby wall in the room the cauldron was placed in.
“Right, uh- Griff why exactly did you need to know if a piece of a Drowned God could be cooked and how?” Fern quizzed, until he saw the bone and got his answer. “...Alright then.”
“Oh, right, are they cookable?”
John simply observed the situation. As the volunteer to eating that meal, it would be of major help if he didn’t have to eat a raw bone.
“I thought they are, and yeah, they are after getting a second opinion, and the method differs based on the piece. At least that’s what Pleeksty mentioned, though he also-”
“Excuse me,” the Felinor cut in, clearly baffled with the development, with Griff right there processing what was just said, “WHO mentioned?”
“...Amorus Pleeksty? The Deepwoken?” Fern acting like this was no big deal completely ticked John off, though Griff stepped in as he realized what the Tiran just said.
“Fern, that’s- that’s JOHN FLAMECHARM HIMSELF.” He shrieked, unsure of where to go from here. “You’re telling me you went down to the Vents, found the man, and HE TOLD YOU THE ANSWERS?!”
“...Yes? Griff, this probably isn’t the first time I’m mentioning the uh- how did you put it- John Flamecharm as my reference person!”
“THAT’S NOT WHAT WE- okay fine I guess we have our answer anyway.” The Felinor - the proper John, being quite literally named John Talo - dropped the topic. Getting Fern to spill more could be a hassle, and neither John or Griff wanted the one Flamecharmer to withdraw from the project.
“I mean, whatever works? Of course I had to tell him what I needed that answer for, because that is not a question you get daily, he had me swear I wouldn’t try eating that thing.” Fern stared at the bone. “I did, ‘cause… I may hate my life but I don’t hate it THAT much. Also don’t tell the Divers, I don’t need them taking me into custody and interrogating over that.”
“Yeah, you’ve got my word..” The Visionshaper shivered, now slightly more afraid of the Justicar near him than he already was.
The cauldron was full of water and what seemed to be shaved bone dust and a chipped watch, for some Gods damn reason no one knew except the one who added it in. Fern set the fire under it.
“...Has anyone here actually cooked bone marrow soup or something? I’ve never done that before.”
“You-” John began in disbelief. “You’re a Flamecharmer… and never cooked bone marrow soup?”
“Monster bones always just disappear too quickly for me to grab any, okay? And Carrion always wants the big ones from bonekeepers. The Scion’s gotta be the first bone I got to cook.” The Tiran glanced at the Felinor from below the cauldron’s rim.
“Okay… I’ve never cooked that before either.”
“Me neither.” Fern exhaled. “Whatever, we’ll probably still need an alchemist for this… Thing.” Griff’s eyes sparkled.
“OH!- Let me pick one up!” Darkened swirls began shrouding Griff more than they already were.
“Griff if you’re going to take Julian for this I swear to Alsin I’ll sign my soul off to Korilfiend for three Megalodaunt nuggets and a fry.” Fern didn’t have to say this twice. Or anything, as Griff was already gone.
He returned around five minutes later with a sleepy Adretian alchemist, grinning from ear to ear. “Don’t worry, I briefed Alfie on what we’re doing.”
Only a nod was what Alfie gave before she took her greataxe off her back and chopped a chunk of the bone away from the rest. Because the whole thing wouldn’t fit. She then proceeded to dump the piece into the mixture while leaving some extra mushrooms, meat, and stuff that probably should not go into a soup, on the nearby table.
“Speaking of Julian,” Griff chimed, “how’s he doing, anyway? He seems quite busy as of late.”
“Mmm… I dunno. He’s probably doing his own thing, I’ll check around Miner’s after we’re done here if you want me to, though.” Fern increased the intensity of his flames under the cauldron, tossing the extra ingredients in.
The soup was finished.
To say it looked edible would be appropriate, however it didn’t look safe to eat with its lavender color. Fern, Griff, John and Alfie all stared at the concoction in silence, Alfie being the first to break it.
“Uhh… Who was meant to eat it?” John looked at everyone, then at Alfie, clearly no longer certain about the idea, before sighing deeply.
“...I guess science is science.” John was about to dip his bowl with Mushroom Bisuqe leftovers in it into the “soup”, ready to drink it out of the bowl, until a fully clad in black, six-winged Canor, swirling in the same void-touched energy familiar to Griff and everyone, strutted into the remains of a house like they owned the place, smirking at the four surrounding the cauldron.
“Ah, I see alchemy’s going well! Too bad I’ve got to- ooh shiny!” They hopped towards the cauldron, looking inside. “What’s that supposed to be?”
Much to everyone’s horror, they tried it, ripping the bowl out of John’s hands, filling it with the soup, and drinking it.
Silence. All four of them watched the Silentheart smile at them after just taking a bowlful of the broth.
Fern’s voice was quivering. “...You weren’t supposed to eat that.”
“Why? Too scared of me being too strong for you four to handle?” they sneered, though it momentarily turned to fear upon hearing Alfie speak.
“That was Ethiron bone marrow soup, you complete buffoon.”
Griff shuddered at the sight of the Canor’s body getting wrangled by the Gale from the inside out. “I’ll… See you in the Depths?”
“BRO- STOP STANDING THERE AND HELP ME, IT HURTS- HOLY HELL MAN, YOU SHOULD’VE WARNED ME!” They got caught into a coughing fit.
“That’s… Kind of on you for eating unknown soups?” Fern was about to regret those words as the vengeful one leaped to attack him, though it seemed like the Gale won the struggle, atomizing the Canor in a flash. A flash that spread bone dust across the four survivors, which quickly absorbed itself into their muscles.
It was good to have a place to call home on the surface after the thousand years you may or may not have spent in the Third Layer. Good thing it was also destruction proof, as proven on multiple occasions by the eccentric group of people having their base of operations there.
Amorus Pleeksty stepped into the library, only to see Fern there hugging the wall with his left side.
“Fern?” He sat down on a nearby seat. “...How did the cooking go?”
“Badly.” Fern rubbed circles on his left hand to hopefully get the nerves moving. “Someone found all of us there after we were done. They ate the soup. Tried attacking me for some reason. They disappeared into dust, except all of it got onto our bodies.”
He groaned. “I can’t feel half of my face now… The rest, I’ve no clue. Pretty sure John mentioned Griff laying face down on the grass to try and recover.”
“I did ask you to not eat it, didn’t I…” The pioneer of Flamecharm sighed, looking at his probably most recent student.
“Guess it doesn’t matter whether you ate it or not when it comes to Ethiron stew.”