Re:Birth: A Slow Burn LitRPG Mage Regressor

The Majordomo of the House of Lazarai appeared at precisely the moment Ambassador Lazarai had settled the last guest at the long table. He was a Tirajin with skin the color of burgundy wine, his horns polished to a gleam and adorned with small silver caps.

Unlike the ambassador, who wore a blend of Tirajin and Imperial styles, the Majordomo was dressed in the full traditional regalia of his position—a high-collared coat that reached his ankles, embroidered with patterns that seemed to shift as he moved.

"Distinguished guests," he announced, "I am Tharval, Majordomo to the House of Lazarai. It is my honor to present today's offerings."

He stepped aside, hands clasped behind his back, and the air behind him began to shimmer.

Sam leaned toward Adom, whispering, "Is that—"

Before he could finish, a procession of plates appeared, floating in perfect formation. They hovered momentarily at the entrance to the pavilion before gliding smoothly toward the table. Each plate was covered with a dome of hammered silver, ornately decorated with scenes from what Adom recognized as Tirajin mythology.

Zuni chirped excitedly from Adom's shoulder.

"The food flies here!" Sam whispered, eyes wide.

"Not exactly," Adom murmured back. "Gravitational manipulation."

The plates arranged themselves in front of each guest. Tharval stepped forward once more, making a subtle gesture with his fingers. Every silver dome lifted in unison, hovering a foot above each plate before disappearing in small flashes of light.

Aromas hit them like a wave—spices Adom hadn't smelled in decades, some he'd never encountered even in his previous life.

"Our first course," Tharval announced, "Akari blossoms stuffed with Kirishian snow rice. The blossoms come from our embassy gardens, grown from seeds brought directly from the Southern Tirajin provinces. The rice is harvested from the peaks of Mount Kirish, where it's exposed to constant snowfall, giving it its distinctive pearlescent color."

Adom examined the dish before him—delicate red flowers that looked too beautiful to eat, filled with rice that indeed seemed to shimmer like tiny pearls.

"I've never seen anything like this," Sam whispered, staring at his plate with a mixture of awe and uncertainty.

"Me neither," Adom admitted. "Even before."

Kaiden, seated across from Adom, watched him with that same measuring look from earlier. "This particular dish," he said, his voice casual but his eyes intent, "is traditionally eaten in a single bite. The flavors are meant to be experienced together."

Ambassador Lazarai nodded approvingly. "My son is correct. Though our Sundarian friends often prefer to savor it in smaller portions."

Duke Jasper laughed, picking up one of the blossoms with his fingers. "When in the house of Lazarai, one should honor Tirajin customs!" He popped the entire blossom into his mouth, his expression transforming to one of delighted surprise as the flavors hit.

"Extraordinary!" he declared after swallowing. "Absolutely extraordinary!"

Around the table, the other guests followed suit, though Lady Dimitri opted for a more measured approach, taking delicate bites with the special small fork provided.

Adom picked up one of his blossoms, aware of Kaiden's gaze still on him. He met the Tirajin's eyes briefly before putting the entire blossom in his mouth as tradition apparently dictated.

The taste was... explosive. Sweet and spicy and somehow cooling all at once.

Did that make sense?

The rice crunched pleasantly before dissolving into something similar to butter.

Sam made a small sound of surprise beside him. "That's... I don't even have words for what that is."

Across the table, Damus maintained his composure, though even he couldn't hide a flicker of impressed surprise.

"The blossoms are mildly hallucinogenic in their natural state," Kaiden commented, his eyes still on Adom. "They require three days of special preparation to make them safe for consumption."

"Is that supposed to be reassuring?" Sam muttered under his breath.

Adom smiled slightly. "It's information. Knowledge is always valuable."

Naia, seated between her brother and mother, gave Kaiden a look. "Stop trying to unnerve our guests."

Kaiden's expression remained pleasant. "I'm simply sharing cultural context, little sister."

Before Naia could respond, Tharval stepped forward again. The empty plates rose in unison, floating away to be replaced by new ones.

"Our second course," the Majordomo announced, "Elven cloud fish from the mists of Vaerenfall, served with seasoned blackroot from the Mirrasan highlands."

The domes lifted, revealing what appeared to be slices of something pearlescent and translucent, arranged in a spiral pattern around a mound of purple-black vegetables.

"The cloud fish absorb the magic of the falls where they live," Tharval continued. "Each bite carries a whisper of that power. The blackroot, harvested during the waning moon, complements with its earthy contrast."

Adom stared at his plate with an unexpected sense of loss. Cloud fish. He'd read about them in his previous life—they'd gone extinct during the Northern Wars, decades from now. To actually see one, to be able to taste it...

"Are you well, Adom?" Duke Jasper asked, noticing his expression.

Adom composed himself quickly. "Yes, just... appreciating the rarity of what we're being served."

"Indeed," Ambassador Lazarai nodded. "The cloud fish population has declined sharply in recent years. We are fortunate to have access to the controlled reserves."

Kaiden's eyes hadn't left Adom. "You recognize them," he said. It wasn't a question.

"I've read about them," Adom replied.

"In quite some detail, it seems," Kaiden pressed, his tone light but his gaze intent.

"I enjoy books."

"How scholarly for one so young," Kaiden remarked, the barest hint of emphasis on 'young.'

Sam glanced between them, catching on to the undercurrent for the first time. His brow furrowed slightly.

"Try the fish with a bit of the sauce," Naia interrupted, gesturing to a small ceramic vessel that had appeared beside each plate. "It's made with honey from stingless bees and herbs that only grow in volcanic soil."

The meal continued, each course more impressive than the last. A soup made from roots that changed color as you stirred it. A main dish of something called 'thunder-touched venison' that seemed to crackle with tiny sparks when cut into. Three different preparations of a grain Tharval called "emperor's wheat," each representing a different province's speciality.

Throughout, Kaiden maintained his subtle probing, asking questions that seemed innocuous but carried hidden edges.

"Your reflexes during combat must be extraordinary," he commented as they were served a palate cleanser of frozen mountain berry sorbet. "Naia said you moved faster than she could track."

"I got lucky," Adom replied.

"Repeatedly, it seems."

"What can I say? I'm fortunate."

"Indeed. Almost as if you knew what was coming."

Sam's head snapped up at that, his attention fully engaged now.

"Kaiden," Ambassador Lazarai said with gentle warning, "we agreed this would be a social occasion, not an interrogation."

"My apologies, Father." Kaiden inclined his head. "Mere curiosity."

Lord Vorsen, who had been quiet for most of the meal, cleared his throat. "I understand you're quite skilled with close combat as well as magic, young Sylla. Unusual for someone of your age to master both disciplines."

"I wouldn't say mastered," Adom replied, grateful for the slight change in topic. "I'm still learning."

"Very modest," Duke Jasper laughed. "Just like your father. Arthur could outfight three instructors at once at the academy and still claim he needed more practice!"

"Speaking of practice," Karion Dimitri chimed in, "you should join our morning sessions, Adom. I still want a rematch."

"I'd like that," Adom nodded.

Throughout the conversation, Zuni had been perched on the edge of the table, carefully selecting nuts from a small dish Naia had arranged specifically for him. The quillick seemed utterly contented, chirping occasionally and shooting suspicious glances at Kaiden whenever the Tirajin leaned too close to Adom.

"Your companion seems protective," Kaiden observed, watching Zuni's quills rise slightly when he reached for his glass.

"He's perceptive," Adom replied.

The final course arrived—a spectacle of desserts that drew audible gasps from around the table. Floating platforms of different heights appeared, each holding a different sweet creation. Some glowed with internal light, others released wisps of scented steam, and one appeared to be made entirely of spun sugar that continuously reformed itself into different shapes.

"Our dessert selection," Tharval announced with evident pride, "Representing the twelve provinces of the Tirajin homeworld and the eight regions of the Empire."

"This is incredible," Sam breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. "How do we even choose?"

"You don't have to," Naia said with a smile. "Small portions of each will come to you. Just tap the ones that interest you most."

Mia leaned forward, pointing to a delicate construction of blue and silver. "What's that one?"

"Midnight frost from the Northern Reaches," Tharval explained. "Sugar crystals grown in freezing temperatures, filled with essence of snowberries."

The children around the table—even Damus—momentarily forgot their social composures in the face of such wonders. Adom found himself smiling genuinely for the first time since they'd sat down. There was something heartening about seeing even the most reserved of them reduced to wide-eyed amazement by cleverly crafted sweets.

"No sugar for you," Adom murmured to Zuni, who looked longingly at the desserts. "You know what happened last time."

Zuni chirped indignantly but settled back to his nuts.

"What happened last time?" Kaiden asked, catching Adom's comment.

"He vibrated so fast his quills fell out," Sam answered before Adom could. "Took weeks to grow back."

Kaiden laughed, the sound surprisingly... genuine. "I once had a similar experience with a storm ferret. Gave it a spoonful of honey and it shot straight up a tree and didn't come down for three days."

For a moment, the tension between them eased. Then Kaiden's expression shifted, becoming thoughtful.

"You know," he said, tapping a glowing golden dessert that promptly floated to his plate, "we've enjoyed such wonderful hospitality and conversation. Perhaps we should offer some entertainment in return."

Ambassador Lazarai raised an eyebrow. "We've prepared no formal entertainment, son."

"Nothing formal," Kaiden said smoothly. "I was thinking of something more... spontaneous." His eyes fixed on Adom. "Perhaps a friendly demonstration of skills? Young Master Sylla here has quite the reputation. I admit I'm curious to see it firsthand."

The table quieted.

"What kind of demonstration?" Lady Dimitri asked, her tone carefully neutral.

"A simple contest," Kaiden suggested. "Perhaps a match in the garden's training circle? Nothing serious—no magic, just basic combat forms." His smile remained pleasant. "For entertainment value only, of course."

Duke Jasper looked intrigued. "I wouldn't mind seeing the lad in action. I've heard so much from Arthur about his progress."

Sam shot Adom a warning look.

"I'm not dressed for sparring," Adom said mildly.

"We have training clothes that would fit you," Kaiden replied without missing a beat. "Imperial style, quite comfortable."

Naia's tail twitched with obvious irritation. "Kaiden, our guests came for lunch, not to perform for your amusement."

"It was merely a suggestion," Kaiden said, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Though I suspect Master Sylla might welcome the challenge. He seems the type to embrace opportunities to test himself."

The statement hung in the air. Not quite a dare, but close enough.

Adom took a slow sip of his water. Ah, what the hell. "If our hosts don't object, I wouldn't mind a friendly match."

Sam kicked him under the table.

"Wonderful!" Kaiden smiled, something predatory flickering behind his eyes for just an instant. "After dessert, then. Nothing builds character like a bit of exertion after a good meal."

Ambassador Lazarai studied his son with a measuring look, then turned to Adom. "Only if you're comfortable, young man. You're under no obligation."

"I know, sir," Adom replied. "But I'd be happy to."

Kaiden lifted his glass in a small toast. "To friendly competition, then."

"To friendly competition," Adom echoed, lifting his own glass.

Their eyes met over the rims, and the silent contest that had begun with a handshake continued—neither willing to back down, both measuring the other.

The rest of the dessert course passed in animated conversation, but Adom barely tasted the exquisite creations that found their way to his plate. His mind was already in the training circle, assessing what he'd felt in Kaiden's grip.

When Tharval announced the conclusion of the meal, Kaiden rose smoothly from his seat. "Shall we, Master Sylla? The training circle awaits."

Adom stood. "Lead the way."