Melia the Magnificent

Melia was feeling extra clingy, understandably so. But she wasn’t trying to let her late-night conversation with Brandy bring down the rest of the group’s mood, or really to let it affect her at all. The group gathered for a lazy breakfast of hearty porridge, though Melia added apples for taste. Some of the other patrons glared at their food enviously, since fresh fruit was a little hard to come by this far north in a rocky desert. Because Melia firmly believed in sharing her wealth and good fortune (so far as people didn’t demand it), she gave the innkeeper two whole barrels of apples. She would have given them more, but without a way to keep them fresh for a long time, they’d go bad.

[Sunrise] left the inn with a greatly improved reputation and many jovial exclamations that they could swing by whenever they wanted. Of course, while the majority were simply trying to con more free apples out of Melia, the owner of the inn did offer to comp the party’s rooms. Seeing as Melia was flush with cash, she declined, but she appreciated the gesture so much she started thinking about possibly enchanting their cold room into a genuine freezer.

Because the group had ridden so much over the past few days, they decided to take a day off from traveling and see what jobs the locals might need help completing. They hit up the local Adventurer’s Guild, perused the quest board, and came away with a standard assortment of culling and collecting. Interestingly, one of the common enemy spawns for the area actually fulfilled several different quests: something called an [Aziz]

Pronounced “as-ease”, the monster was a tall, bipedal lizard-bird similar to a [Strider]. It had good meat, though perhaps a little gamey, durable feathers used in many professions, and sometimes dropped [Wind Stones] when killed. They were also very ornery, territorial, and would chase, harass, and otherwise fight any human on sight to enter their detection range. Needless to say, they were hostile, and the town wanted to trim the population to keep the roads safe.

Speaking of populations of monsters, [Aziz] were one of those interesting examples that also laid eggs. All monsters were born from mana; this was a universal rule, but sometimes they laid eggs or, if a mammal lived long enough, gave live birth. According to lore, this was one explanation for why some things were domesticated, such as Nightsabers and [Striders], and why they could be found both in civilization and the wilds.

But…why would they lay eggs? As in, if Chaos was going to spawn them in, fully grown or as children, why let them reproduce? Why have eggs at all? As a game mechanic, it made sense, since somebody was always going to have a quest for gathering eggs. But in the real world? It boggles Melia’s mind.

Maybe the real reason was because it was chaotic. And that fit Chaos to a T.

While thinking about reproductive cycles of monsters was all well and good (and probably sparked theological debates across history), none of that mattered to Melia. It was all secondary. Something else was far more important.

Because what did you get when you had eggs?

Omelets.

And hard-boiled eggs.

And soft-boiled eggs.

Scrambled eggs, poached eggs, over easy, sunny side up…even throw a dude’s name on it and call it Benedict.

Melia was also certain she could figure out huevos rancheros.

And if the brothers at the abbey needed a break from tending fruit trees, perhaps they could be persuaded to grow peppers? And then Melia could make hot sauce!

A plate of fluffy scrambled eggs, some nice, buttery hash browns, and crispy bacon.

…perhaps another trip to Lakeridge was in order. Melia felt the phantom taste of ham from [Boars] on the back of her tongue and her belly rumbled.

“Are you serious?” Jessica scoffed. She was riding next to Midna, staring at Melia in disbelief. “We just had breakfast. I watched you eat a whole-ass barrel of porridge and enough apples to plant an orchard.”

“I was thinking about eggs!” Melia claimed sheepishly. “You can’t blame me!”

“Listen,” Jessica said, taking on the tone of a bestie about to warn their friend that the Krispy Kreme donut diet wasn’t real. “You just ate a [Kraken]. You gotta give it some time, girl, or you’re gonna get fat. You need to pace these things.”

“What are you?” Brandy asked from behind Melia. “A dragon self-help guide?”

“Someone’s gotta,” Jessica said sagely. “What do you think the gods would do if the [Destroyer of Worlds] was too heavy to fly?”

“The [Eater of Worlds],” Ellesea mused, earning a few laughs. For the next several minutes, the group spent the time thinking up new and creative adjectives for Melia’s class. Some of her favorites were [Sitter of Worlds] and [Lounger of Worlds].

Since the group wanted to get experience for all their kills, Melia didn’t join the party. She didn’t help kill anything, but she didn’t want to be alone all day in a room by herself (since Y’cennia was adventuring instead of grinding [Alchemy]), so she sat on top of Midna and was only mildly stressed as the group started hunting monsters. Thankfully, the group was never in any real danger…not with a hoarding dragon hovering nearby and her trusty [Retainers] lurking behind.

At the very least, Melia had plenty of things to take her mind off worrying. For example…the scenery in Ala Randín was gorgeous. As the northernmost zone in the greater U’lindala region, the high desert closely resembled the Redlands south of Gold Coast. However, rather than belonging to the Eutevor Kingdom as an annex, it was loosely tied to the beastkin nations. But politics had nothing to do with natural beauty: neither the inspiring sandstone arches bridging tall mesas nor the subtle gradations in the earthy pillars, ranging from tans to reds to purples. The sun, though it was still trekking up to its comfortable spot high in the sky, made everything feel like the height of a summer afternoon, when the days were long and all the little critters scurried around at dusk, abandoning their shelter from the heat to seek out water and food.

Not that flocks of [Aziz] were classified as critters, but to Melia, they might as well have been.

Especially after the first time the group engaged a pair of juvenile lizard-birds, all Melia could think of was deep-fried drumsticks.

Nothing over the top had changed about [Sunrise]’s combat skills, but as Melia watched, they seemed a lot more…everything than they had back when they first set foot in Sienna. Alastair was much more confident, trusting his party members to dish out the damage while he tanked, and it didn’t hurt that he had a real healer to patch up any wounds instead of relying on Y’cennia’s potions. And even on that front, if Alastair wanted to, he had a whole supply of much improved and upgraded potions to choose from.

Jessica and Ellesea worked seamlessly to take targets out one by one, each providing their own proficiencies for outputting huge bursts of damage or steady, consistent DPS.

Y’cennia, while not a fighter herself, streamlined the gathering process, knowing where to dip in and out to pick small bundles of herbs and flowers without getting in the way or drawing more aggro.

So what did that leave for Melia while the group steadily mowed their way through packs of rank 4 monsters?

Sewing.

And cheering the team on.

“Good job!” Melia called enthusiastically as the group took down an irritated ostrich-reject nearly two heads taller than Brandy. Alastair wiped the sweat from his brow, cleaned off some unidentifiable liquids from his shield, and made way for Jessica to come through.

“You know,” the [Hunter] said as she activated her [Looting], “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were making fun of us.”

“I’d never!” Melia gasped theatrically, but Ellesea nodded.

“I can see it. Look at you, just sitting on that giant cat…sewing? What are you even making? Why are you making? Out here in the middle of monster-infested nowhere?”

“Oh, don’t worry about me,” Melia beamed. “Those birds couldn’t do anything to me.”

“Are we calling these birds?” Y’cennia muttered.

“Close enough,” Melia laughed. “As for what I’m making, it’s a rug!”

Technically speaking, it was a carpet, the base to be used in Ellesea’s future mount. But technically technically, a [Flying Carpet] wasn’t actually a carpet, since a carpet was supposed to be a permanent, room-filling covering that stretched from wall to wall. A rug was something movable, which fit the name much better, but who ever sat down in their fancy armchair in their smoking lounge inside their wizard tower and said, “You know what I’m going to create to replace a horse? A [Portable Rug].”

“And why are you knitting a rug on top of Midna?” Jessica asked. It seemed like lately, if Melia wasn’t talking about food or in the middle of eating, Jessica thought it wasn’t something Melia ought to do. Maybe there was something to be said for moderating her feeding times…

“It’s not knitting, it’s [Tailoring],” Melia corrected. “And I’m creating the base for Ellesea’s [Flying Carpet].”

“Wait,” Ellesea stammered. “You were serious about that?”

“Of course!” Melia nodded eagerly. “Have you given any thought to the pattern you want?”

“No,” the [Arcanist] answered honestly. “Who believes somebody when they tell them they’re going to make you a [Flying Carpet]?”

“You should, apparently,” Jessica cackled, moving to the next target. Her [Loot] skill, as always, wasn’t providing a ton of really valuable drops, but it was steady, consistent treasures. It seemed the [Aziz] loot table favored [Bright Feathers] and [Colorful Plumage], white and green rarity items, respectively.

“But you can’t just make me a [Flying Carpet],” Ellesea grumbled. Melia tilted her head, confused.

“But I can?”

“No, I mean, sure, maybe…if anybody has the skill, you do…but….”

“And technically,” Melia continued, ignoring the way the girl fretted, “I’m making the base, not the [Carpet] itself. You’ve gotta do that or it won’t be attuned to you. Maybe I could overwhelm a [Carpet] I made to obey you specifically, but it’d be better if you made it yourself so it’s loyal to you.”

“You make it sound like it’s alive,” Jessica grimaced.

“It’s not. But it sort of acts like it? Magic is weird like that,” Melia sighed. Both Ellesea and Y’cennia nodded in agreement.

“Melia,” Ellesea sighed, clutching her staff tightly to her chest and inching closer toward Midna. “I can’t make a [Flying Carpet]. I’m not a [Tailor] or [Enchanter].”

“Yes,” Melia nodded, weaving some thread together. “But you’re an [Arcanist]. Your whole class is about understanding the mysteries of the arcane and mastering them, right?”

“Yes, well….”

“So you could take up [Enchanting], if you wanted! Few schools of magic rely on the arcane as much as [Enchanting]!”

“Yes, well…”

“I mean, aside from being a [Mage]. But you’ve said it before; you don’t plan to adventure forever. What happens when you stop fighting? You might as well start studying now, get some good practice in!”

“But Melia!” Ellesea finally wailed as she saw exactly what Melia was using as the base. “I can’t take this! These are rare materials! Expensive materials! I’m going to fail, no questions asked, and then they’ll be ruined!”

“Oh, absolutely,” Melia agreed with a nod. Ellesea stood there, shocked, while Jessica and Y’cennia turned a shade whiter. “There’s no doubt you’ll fail the first time. Or the second. And probably the third! And that’s okay. I have enough mats to keep you going until it finally clicks. And besides…it’ll give me a chance to get your pattern just right.”

“But…Melia,” Ellesea groaned. “There has to be hundreds of gold in fabrics sitting here….”

“Right,” Melia nodded. “And they’re doing just that. Sitting. In my inventory and bank. I wanna use them, and I wanna use them on you. Do you really not want me to?”

Melia hit Ellesea with the big ol’ gnome eyes, which were just as effective as puppy eyes. Ellesea gulped, swallowed her reservations, and agreed.

“Then…thank you. Very, very much. For making me a wonderful artifact and teaching me your ways.”

​

---

As the group stopped for lunch (which the [Retainers] set up in a fancy little pavilion), Melia had Ellesea start working out a pattern for her eventual [Carpet]. Ellesea was unsure what she wanted to use, since it felt like a monumental decision to her that would become a lasting legacy in her name. A [Flying Carpet] was nearly mythical in the modern age. However, Eluna and Melia went on to reminisce about all the Visitors who pivoted into crafting careers when the recipe for creating the mount first became public knowledge.

Al and Jessica were busy helping Lethia and Layalee dress and prepare a whole [Aziz] for Melia to cook, which she’d insisted they drag along with them when it didn’t provide any other loot. So while Ellesea dug through her personal journals, treasured keepsakes, and various mementos from home, fretting and worrying about what design or sigil to use, inspiration came from an unlikely source…L’menia.

“If I might make a recommendation?” The huge tigerkin asked in a much more reserved tone compared to her usual playful banter. Ellesea had a book embossed with her house's crest in front of her, and she’d been lost in thought, ruminating on something.

“Yes?” She asked, startled as the shadow fell over her. “I mean, please do.”

“You were right about one thing,” the [Retainer] said, crouching down to be closer to eye level. “This is a long-lasting decision. I don’t think it’s quite as important as you’re dreading, but it is going to stick with you for a long, long time. The things my mistress crafts are of the highest quality, and they won’t degrade no matter how much you mistreat them. So make sure whatever you decide to include for a design is something you’re proud to bear and won’t regret making. You have a very, very long life ahead of you, and it would be a shame to shun something so precious due to youthful oversight.”

“I mean, how long could it possibly be…?” Ellesea muttered, stealthily glancing at their resident high elf. The tigerkin heard her and chuckled. “Centuries,” she said seriously. “I doubt very much any of you young lords and ladies have truly realized the consequences of Lady Meliastraza’s gift.”

Ellesea gulped and nodded once, proving she understood, but she said nothing.

She turned back to the book.

The Barnes family wasn’t a particularly important one. It had a crest, yes, but that could be said for any noble house. It was the first thing expected of a new house freshly elevated from commoner status, and ancient houses treated them almost like hammers to beat down lesser nobles. It had only been several generations since Ellesea’s family had been promoted and they didn’t have the storied history of a duchy or a march. Still, they were known for [Scholars], administrators, and the occasional [Mage] (as Ellesea proved), so their crest was rather academic.

Seeing as the fabric Melia chose to weave was multicolored and shimmering, Ellesea didn’t think the base color of her crest mattered too much.

The center of the crest featured an open book, representing wisdom. Its pages were blank, meaning they were to be filled by the words of the king.

Below the book was a scroll, tightly bound, but bearing a 7-star seal; the symbol of kingdom-certified [Scholars].

On the left of the book was a wand, identifying affinity for magic, and on the right was an elegant harp…which, sadly, had not been very representative of her family for quite some time, as musicians were few and far between.

All in all, it was a respectable crest, though many houses chose to depict weapons or monsters, proudly displaying their strength of arms or conquests. The more Ellesea looked at it, the more she smiled. It resonated with her; it really did.

She never really thought about how she followed directly in her family’s footsteps, despite rushing out the door to become an adventurer, going so far as to earn an evolved class dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge.

There were many other things she could have chosen to use as a design for her [Flying Carpet], but suddenly, she found she didn’t want to. But looking at the crest, something felt off.

“If I may be so bold,” L’menia said, still hovering nearby. “You’re fond of this crest, but you’re hesitating. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m not sure,” Ellesea admitted truthfully. “But it’s not quite right. It’s like something’s missing.”

“Ah,” the tigerkin nodded. “Perhaps you should add a dragon? In the background, maybe, watching over all you hold dear?”

Ellesea turned her eyes back to the crest.

Yes, somehow, that felt fitting.

​

---

“Al,” Jessica said, watching Layalee butcher the [Aziz] ruthlessly. “Something’s wrong with me.”

“Oh?” Alastair replied with a cheeky grin. “Only one thing?”

“Jerk,” Jessica grinned, swatting him. “And if you’re going to play it like that…then yes. Only one thing. And maybe there’s nothing wrong at all-”

“Alright!” Al laughed. “I’m sorry. Continue.”

“Well,” Jessica said, staring at what was once a monster twice her size, weighing several hundred pounds more than her, having several dozen levels on her…and all she saw was food.

“I think Melia’s rubbing off on me,” she finished with a sigh.

Al merely raised an eyebrow.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“I don’t know,” Jessica answered with frustration. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“Okay,” Al nodded. “Explain it to me. Walk me through it.”

“Al…when you look at that monster,” Jessica asked, pointing to the bird-thing, “What do you see?”

Alastair did so for several moments, taking his time to really consider Jessica’s request.

“I see a monster,” he said slowly. “But I don’t think that’s what you’re looking for. Are we being metaphorical? Are you asking, look at where we are versus where we started? In that case, I see a triumph. I see progress; I see success. I see a group of nobodies persevering against the odds, making names for ourselves, taking what the gods have given us and running with it. I see strength, because we took that monster down with our might alone, and yet I see powerlessness. If we hadn’t encountered Melia, or the [Saint], or even the [Retainers], we wouldn’t be where we are today. I see humility, knowing that the gods give and the gods take away. We are fortunate and there are those less so. We should never take for granted what we’ve been given.”

“Oof,” Jessica grimaced, holding her belly. “That’s heavy.”

“Indeed,” Alastair chuckled. “But that also doesn’t seem to be what you’re asking.”

He took another look at the monster, slowly turning into piles of usable meat.

“I see a beast,” he said clinically, somehow differently from when he said monster. “I see something that shouldn’t exist in nature. Truly, this is one of Chaos’ works. Is it a bird? A reptile? It has feathers and scales. It is both…yet at the same time, neither. But it’s real, and it’s here. Do I see beauty? That’s hard to say. If I were a better man, I’d look up the gods’ creations and say that all life is beautiful, no matter how harmful to us. But I’m not,” Alastair added with a shameless laugh. “And that thing’s one ugly monster.”

Jessica tried to look at it from an artist's perspective. One of those people who made [Paintings], not just dabbled with colors on a brush. Supposedly, they could see things nobody else could. [Bards] were always singing songs of hidden beauty. [Sculptors] could gaze upon a solid chunk of stone and envision a masterpiece imprisoned within.

Jessica blinked.

Nope. Couldn't do it.

“I see…a job,” Al continued with a frown, as if he was unsure he liked where his thoughts were taking him. “I see a request completed. I see coin in our pockets, reagents for Y’cennia’s brews. I see one small stepping stone along the path we’ve chosen. It can be…daunting, I suppose? Not knowing where it ends and when it stops. Do the monsters keep getting stronger as we grow more powerful? Is there an end? Is there a point? Have I lost sight of why we hunt monsters? Whom we are protecting? The calling we responded to and the oaths we took when starting out? We stand where we stand, but at what cost?”

Alastair trailed off, but Jessica couldn’t muster up the energy to engage. Sure, every once in a while she thought about those things, but not often. Al was the [Paladin], not her. And really, this region was so far removed from the abbey that no matter how hard Jessica tried, she couldn’t imagine anything they did here ever being useful to those kids.

But all of that was besides the point.

“You know, that’s good and all,” Jessica said with a heavy sigh, “But when I look at it? All I see is food.”

Alastair stared at her with a look of mild concern. Jessica turned to face him with a helpless smile, as one might who’d seen through a parlor trick and thus the illusion was dispelled. After half a second, both of them burst out laughing. Jessica gave Al a toothy grin, pointing to where Lethia was constructing a makeshift grill.

“And I’m wondering if it pairs well with that sweet and tangy sauce Melia likes to use when she cooks things over open coals.”

​

---

Y’cennia could smell it. It was coming, and it was close. She only wished she knew what the heck it was!

She hovered skittishly near Lethia as the giant woman began laying meat out on the grill.

Was it a spice? A hidden ingredient?

Y’cennia took a deep, powerful breath, flaring her nostrils.

Was it even a real smell?!

The problem was that while she could smell it, she also couldn’t. Y’cennia could identify all of the common smells around her: dirt, dust, the tangy, rotten aroma of stale sweat and soiled clothes. It wasn’t any of those. She could point out all the smells that weren’t repulsive. Meat, close to pork or chicken, and an assortment of herbs and spices.

Sniff.

Oregano?

Thyme?

Definitely salt and crushed black pepper.

Half of these things would cost a fortune back home…so was she smelling money?

Y’cennia had heard about intangible smells before and she didn’t know if she put any stock in them. Things like “sniffing out opportunities” had to be a figure of speech, right?

But right now, she was beginning to doubt.

The smell was powerful, but so was her nose.

And Y’cennia couldn’t identify where it was coming from! It was everywhere, and yet, nowhere! She only knew it existed here, next to the grill, and here alone.

Was this her new class reaching out to her? Speaking to her?

Begging her to be used?

Y’cennia hoped not. This [Aziz] had been chosen specifically by Lady Meliastraza to become today’s meal, and Y’cennia was terrified of ruining a dragon’s snack.

She watched Lethia take several cuts of meat, line them up on a metal tray, and take out a sinister-looking, miniaturized mallet. It was only several inches long and the head was smaller than Y’cennia’s fist, but it was perfectly flat on one end and had wicked spikes on the other. It was like somebody shrunk a torture device. The [Retainer] steadied the tray…and began to beat the ever-loving stuffing out of those poor hunks of meat.

Y’cennia nodded seriously to herself. Tenderizing. Yes, this was something she understood. Lethia administered justice upon that meat for several full minutes. After a seemingly arbitrary amount of time (which Y’cennia’s skills told her was not true), she flipped it and began pummeling the other side. When the woman was finally satisfied, she retrieved the spices.

Y’cennia watched on with professional interest. Lethia measured, cut, and mixed the spices, creating a new, tantalizing blend. But it wasn’t the smell; only a very good smell. Y’cennia approved; some of those skills she used herself in [Alchemy].

Then there came a set of skills Y’cennia couldn’t identify. Her senses tingled, her nose twitched. The smell grew stronger. Something for preservation, something to…speed up time? While Y’cennia was warned that [Mages] messing with time could be catastrophic, she’d seen [Chefs] utilize such skills repeatedly in [Cooking] quite safely, with very pleasing results. It was a shame [Alchemy] had no real equivalent, at least that Y’cennia knew of.

The meat went from a pale, semi-translucent, whitish-pink to a warm, caramelized brown. It wasn’t cooked yet; Y’cennia knew that would come the moment the elf transferred the pile of meat to the grill, but this was clearly [Marinating]. Her skills told her so, just as they told her it could be useful in certain recipes that required reagents to soak overnight. What would a cooking skill do for an [Alchemy] recipe, she wondered? Y’cennia supposed that was the entire point of her evolved class, waiting to be found out.

She crept closer to the huge woman as she put the tray of meat down on the grill’s side table, inspecting the coals to make sure they met her standards. Y’cennia took that opportunity to stick her nose right up close to the meat and smell that new sauce.

Sweet, tangy…sour?

Her nose wrinkled and she backed away before Lethia’s elbow came down on her head as the [Retainer] turned around. Was that vinegar? And tomatoes? Two things Y’cennia would never consider adding together. But then…they were bonded by something sweet…sugar, perhaps? She’d have to investigate further.

Y’cennia crept behind Lethia and peered from around her back as the [Retainer] began spacing the meat out above the coals. Yes, this made sense. She’d cooked over open fires before, often when camping, but never over a metal grill. The coals were so close, but so even! Just like an oven…only, not. But she’d seen things like this and her class was telling her this was right.

The smell grew stronger; intoxicating, infuriating.

Her tail swished behind her and she fidgeted in agitation. Lethia didn’t seem to mind or care that she was observing, so Y’cennia peeked out from under the large woman’s arms, switching sides around her back so she could get a better view. Strangely, very few active skills were going into the meal now that they were on the grill. Lethia seemed to be intently observing the meat so it wouldn’t burn, so maybe something was happening, and she’d occasionally shift a piece here or move a piece there. Some of the larger cuts of meat were given priority placement over the hottest coals, while everything else was spread out. A slight breeze picked up, blowing a waft of smoke straight into Y’cennia’s face, and she nearly gagged. Before she could stop herself, she turned into the [Retainer]’s side, buried her face in the fluffy dress, and sneezed.

“Ahhh,” Lethia sighed. “You and L’menia are just alike.”

She took her pair of tongs and grabbed a small piece of meat that was starting to char. She’d moved it to the side of the grill before it could truly burn, but instead of throwing it back on the pile, or throwing it away (which would have been a terrible waste of perfectly good food), she put it on a plate. She retrieved that wonderful-looking sauce, brushed more of it on top, and moved it over in Y’cennia’s direction.

Y’cennia froze. Caught. Her brain was telling her to run away, but her stomach rooted her to the spot.

“Are all cats like this?” the elf muttered to herself, dangling the piece of meat enticingly in front of Y’cennia. Her eyes tracked it like a predator. Before she could really start to drool, or think about pouncing on the hand that fed her, Lethia lowered it down. Y’cennia snatched it away, closed her eyes, and devoured it greedily. Flavor exploded in her mouth; absolute bliss threatened to overwhelm her.

Strangely, there hadn’t been anything new added to the meat between cooking and consumption, but for whatever reason, the smell was now gone…satisfied.

¹

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