Marked by the Four Beast Lords After Transmigration

Three mornings after the milk dessert, Ayari sent word that Sareth wanted Nia to taste what he had done with the browning method.

Nia finished reading the message. “Sareth wants an opinion.”

“Then we should go before the food cools.”

They left after first bell. The paths had dried enough that the upper stone no longer shone with water, though damp remained dark in the seams and beneath the overhangs. Two workers were replacing a split handrail near the pottery turn. One had the old section balanced across his knees while the other worked a length of braided cord around the replacement. Nia and Shen passed without slowing, and the smell of browned meat reached them before they arrived at Ayari’s household.

Sareth stood at the cooking area with one hand on the pot handle and the long spoon in the other. Ayari sat near the inner wall with a folded length of cloth across her lap, picking loose fibers from one edge. Bram was nowhere in sight, but a heavy carrying frame leaned near the entrance with two empty hooks still tied to it.

“You came,” Ayari said. “Good. Sareth has been waiting for you to taste this.”

Nia and Shen washed at the household basin before joining them. Shen shook the last water from his fingers and nudged the drying cloth closer when Nia reached for it, then moved aside so she could stand nearer the cooking area.

Sareth looked over from the pot. “The meat browned more evenly this time.”

Ayari smiled down at her cloth. “He has mentioned that.”

Sareth turned one piece over as Nia stepped beside the cooking area. The meat had browned well. Not every piece matched, and one smaller piece had gone darker around the edge than she would have chosen, but Sareth had left enough space between the pieces to keep them from steaming against each other. Browned juices and fat coated the bottom of the pot more deeply than they had in the first version he had cooked in Nia’s kitchen.

“You waited longer before moving it,” she said.

“Yes. I also stopped adding the next batch while the pot was still recovering its heat.”

Nia looked at him. “That part was not in the first lesson.”

“I noticed what happened when I put the second batch in too quickly.”

Sareth moved the last browned pieces into the clean bowl beside the pot, then added the roots. Nia noticed that he still cut them larger than she did. The dried greens beside his elbow were already mixed together, stems and leaves.

“Ayari likes them this way,” Sareth said.

Ayari looked up from the cloth. “I like meals that do not require everyone in the house to stand around discussing every leaf.”

Nia laughed. “Then keep them that way.”

“I planned to.”

Shen took the empty seat beside Ayari, and Nia sat on his other side while Sareth worked. Ayari shifted the cloth across her knees and pulled another loose thread free with her thumbnail. The worn edge had started separating in two places, and she pinched the cloth together to judge how much still needed repairing.

Sareth stirred the roots through the browned juices left in the pot. Once the heat recovered, he returned the meat, added water, and lowered the fire.

Ayari uncovered the bowl sitting on the table. Inside was their household stone grain, cooked softer than Nia usually preferred.

Nia pointed toward it. “You used the stone grain.”

“We had one small measure of watergrain left from Tovin’s last purchase,” Ayari said. “Then he told me what the eastern sellers wanted for more. I like the watergrain, but not enough to pay that price every time we want this meal.”

“I would not want to pay that much for an ordinary lunch either.”

“We tried the browned meat with it once. Then Sareth made the same base and put it over our usual grain.”

Sareth lifted the lid and checked the broth. “The stone grain needs more liquid with it, so I leave more broth in the meat and spoon both over the grain.”

“It absorbs differently,” Nia said.

Sareth gave the pot another slow stir, then covered it again.

“The first time he used our grain, there was barely any broth left by the time I reached the bottom of the bowl,” Ayari said.

Sareth glanced toward the pot. “I added more this time.”

While the meat finished, Ayari asked Nia whether the watergrain from the newer eastern seller had been cooked yet. Nia told her they were still keeping that lot separate until they tested whether it behaved differently from the first. Ayari nodded and returned to the cloth.

When the meat finished, Sareth served a scoop of soft stone grain into each bowl and spooned the browned meat, roots, and broth over the top. The liquid soaked into the grain without making the whole bowl soupy.

Nia tasted the grain with the meat. It was heavier than watergrain and the texture less distinct, but the browned meat still carried through. Sareth had kept the heat to ordinary mountain pepper and added a little dried sour strip to the broth.

After another bite, she said, “This works.”

Sareth sat with his own bowl. “It is easier to make twice a week than the watergrain version.”

Ayari reached for a piece of root. “Which means we might actually eat it twice a week.”

Shen ate one of the larger roots, then took another bite of grain and meat. Nia could taste the difference in Sareth’s choices throughout the bowl. The roots stayed firmer, the grain carried more broth, and the sour note was lighter than she would have made it. None of those differences interfered with the browning he had wanted her to judge.

Bram came in before they finished eating with a stack of shallow wooden trays against his chest. He stopped just inside when he saw all four of them around the table.

“I thought I smelled enough food for visitors.”

Ayari pointed toward the empty bowl beside Sareth. “There is still food.”

Bram set the trays near the dry wall, washed, and returned to the table. Sareth filled the waiting bowl, and Bram ate several bites before looking into the pot.

“This batch is darker.”

“I left the meat alone longer,” Sareth said.

Bram nodded and continued eating. Ayari returned to the cloth in her lap while Sareth explained that he intended to give the larger root pieces a little more time in the next batch. Ayari told him she preferred them as they were, and he looked back into his bowl before taking another bite.

Their discussion was still going when Nia and Shen stepped back onto the path.

Near the lower household turn, Sera stood with two folded drying cloths over one arm. Mari beside her carried a shallow covered dish. A basket of cleaned medicine jars rested near Sera’s feet, each one turned upside down to drain the last water from the rim.

“You ate already?” Sera asked.

“Yes. Ayari fed us.”

“I should have guessed from the smell on you.” Sera shifted the cloths higher on her arm. “Mari brought something you should taste. Shen told me the watergrain-and-sunbell sweet worked when he brought the milk bottle back. I mentioned it to Mari yesterday, and she decided to try a cheaper version.”

“Taste it before I take it home,” Mari said.

Sera removed the lid, and the smell of sunbell reached Nia first. Mari had used ordinary stone grain cooked down almost into a thick porridge, with soft curd mixed through it and a lighter sunbell scent than Nia’s version.

“You used curd.”

“Sera had a little she could spare, so I used that with the stone grain.”

“Where did you get the sunbell?”

“I bought a small amount while the trader still had some. I steeped a pinch in hot water instead of using milk for that part.” Mari nodded toward the dish. “Once the grain cooled enough for the curd, I mixed it in with a little honey and salt.”

Sera handed Nia a clean spoon. The texture was thicker and rougher than her watergrain dessert, and the curd brought a faint tang that changed the sweetness. The sunbell sat farther back, but the flavor still worked.

“I would still choose milk and watergrain when I had enough,” Nia said.

“I know. I would too if neither one cost me anything. At home, this version is easier to repeat. I can use the grain we already keep, and I do not have to cook milk and grain together over a slow fire.” Mari shifted the dish against her palm. “I can also leave the grain alone longer without worrying about wasting the milk if something else needs doing.”

Nia passed the spoon to Shen. He tasted carefully before saying, “The curd makes it sharper. The grain is heavier, but the texture is even.”

Mari nodded. “That was what I wanted.”

Shen passed the spoon back to Nia, and she returned it to Sera.

Pella came around the lower turn carrying a basket of split roots against one hip. She slowed when she noticed the dish in Mari’s hands.

“Is that made with those trader flowers?”

“Yes,” Sera said. “Mari used a little sunbell with stone grain.”

Pella stopped long enough to look into the dish. “I might make it if it uses stone grain.”

“It still uses honey and curd,” Mari said.

Pella shifted the basket higher against her hip. “Then I will keep the honey for flatbread. If I tell everyone at home I liked this, they will expect me to make it.”

Nia smiled. “You are not even going to taste it?”

“I know myself well enough not to create extra work.”

She continued toward the upper path.

A medicine runner came up from the lower station and stopped beside Sera. One of the drying racks near the warm outflow had shifted after the last rain.

“Which part shifted?” Sera asked.

“Only one leg. The rack is still standing.”

“Do not put fresh bundles on it until someone braces it.”

The runner nodded and headed back down. Sera replaced the lid on Mari’s dish, then handed her the folded cloths.

“I need to look at that.”

“I was going toward the lower station anyway,” Mari said.

Mari tucked the cloths against her side beneath the covered dish. Sera picked up the basket of draining jars, and the two of them headed down the path together.

Nia and Shen continued toward home.

For part of the climb, Shen walked close enough that the backs of their hands brushed twice before Nia threaded her fingers through his. He looked down once, then continued beside her without loosening his hand.

By the time they reached the upper turn, the smell of Sareth’s browned meat had faded from Nia’s clothes. After they entered, they washed their hands.

Outside, Hearthfang’s midday cooking smells drifted between the paths: broth, browned fat, hot grain, sharp greens, and smoke from someone who had let a pot run too hot.

None of it smelled exactly like her kitchen.

Nia dried her hands and went to see what Shen was taking down for evening meal.