Chapter 551: A Little Less Conversation

Their talk got off to a rough start.

After Owyn and Raven went through reconstructing the night from their perspectives, Arc had to resist the urge to yell at them for being so foolish.

She failed miserably, but in her defense, the others did too.

Arc briefly explained her conduct during the incursion and the new form her magic had taken, showing her threads she still didn’t quite understand. That somehow led the three to start arguing over who was at fault for how the whole thing started, and then Owyn started gasping and choking over the spiciness of his food.

Begging for water brought his hand above the table, and Arc noticed the bandages around it, which raised a whole new argument when, post-recovery, he tried to evade both of their questions, and Arc called him out on lying. And then Raven snapped at them both for "pretending they weren’t an item," which got Arc even angrier because she did not want to be talking about relationships she didn’t have when there were other, more important things on her mind. Like figuring out how fucked she was because Owyn was about as good at keeping his origin a secret as she was at casting spells. Not that she said such things out loud.

They were at full tilt when a triple set of loud dings went off next to their table. A rotund demon, dressed in chef’s clothing, had interrupted them by tapping on a pitcher of regular, clear water.

"You’re the ones asking about dessert?" the male demon glowered at them, one tray over his shoulder. All three of them stared, realising they had the restaurant’s attention.

Arc gulped. She may not have felt in the wrong, but she knew she’d need to take the hit on this one to keep things peaceful.

"I did, um, sir," Arc replied.

"It’s Chef," the Chef grunted, before lowering the tray, "Chef Talg." On it were three honey-covered domes that resembled a half-peeled orange the size of a baby’s head, though pink, sitting in little bowls with the skin of the fruit hugging against the edges. "Not have anyone sayin’ no dessert in Hell. I cooked fer the old Duke hisself."

Raven started, "Thank you, but I’m not sure we can pay for such rare-"

"It’s on the house. An apology for my daughter’s rudeness." He cast a glare across the restaurant, only for the waitress from earlier to stick out her tongue at him and storm out. Finally noticing the rest of the restaurant, he bellowed, "This ain’t a show!" and the gawkers returned to their own meals, though a few snuck knowing glances at them.

Thinking about it, Arc had never seen the demon in her life, so he couldn’t be talking about her family. "Which, um, Duke?" she asked as she lifted her spoon, wondering how to attack the dessert.

"Hah, good question. Kids nowadays think the new Satanos is some kind of god, but I remember his majesty Duke Kainur doin’ the fightin’ for us. Now, I bow my head for Lord Kir Satanos all the same, but he’s just not... here the same way." The demon poked a thumb at his own heart. "Demon Lord or no. Pride hisself needs to , well, pride in us."

Maybe if he were actually around... Arc thought bitterly about her Father.

"This is really good!" Owyn declared. He’d eaten his whole bowl in one go, and Arc took the chance to dig in. Raven, politely, set hers aside while she finished off her noodles, curling the final strands with her fork in the spoon. The sauce, at this point, was more purple than red.

As she carved her way in, Arc noticed the consistency of the dessert was a bit odd. Almost meat-like. But when she took a bite, the honey-like flavor burst into her mouth with a savory aftertone that was unlike anything she’d ever eaten before. It was fruity and slightly bitter, with a sulfurous saltiness that was too weird to tell if she liked it or not.

It certainly was sugary; probably from all the honey on top of it. She felt some of her crankiness from the earlier argument dissipate as the sugar hit her stomach. The fleshiness of the interior was a bit off-putting, having what looked like veins, but overall, she ate about a quarter of it before discovering she could eat no more. All the while, the chef watched their faces.

"Well?" Chef Talg asked. "Whatcha think?"

"It’s not like anything I’ve ever had," Arc smiled. "I like it."

"And you?" he asked Owyn.

"Sweetest thing I’ve had in my life. It was good." He glanced guiltily at his half-eaten platter of blackened, hotly-spiced, unidentifiable bits.

"And you, human?" he asked Raven, who was delicately slicing a thin strip of the dessert and raising it to her lips.

She took a tiny bite and chewed before swallowing with barely perceptible movements of her throat. "It is delicious, though I am not one to indulge in many sweets. I take it this is matonket k’bor?"

I know these words! Arc tried to think back on some of the rudimentary demonic she’d learned from Amarena. Let’s see...maton is ’honey;’ ket means... is? Is-honey... Honeyed! And k’bor is... Ah, stars... What was it? She recalled playing with Amarena, her Mother calling out something-k’bor. Tosat k’bor? Throw the... Oh no...

"Fresh from the behemoth!" Chef posed proudly. "Got one of those fancy stasis boxes, in case the day ever came, ’fore they put the behemoths out the walls."

"I don’t suppose you kept the fourth one?"

"Sad to say no. Had to practice, and ol’ Snuggles don’t grow ’em back like he used to. You happen to be a halfie? Maybe a succubus? Didn’t think many humans were into demonic cuisine."

"I am as you see me," Raven smiled, taking another bite. Knowing what it was made Arc wince. "Akurs sen kasaa, Chef." Fortune to your house.

"Hah! That made my day." He placed a fresh glass in front of Arc and poured clear water into it. "Come by again, I’ll see what I can whip up. Still got plenty of grakt and chuv in the old box." He left, and Arc caught a glimpse of the waitress snickering past the door.

After their meal, which Arc paid for, Owyn regarded Raven respectfully as they walked deeper into Little Hell. "That was pretty amazing. I thought for sure he was going to go off on us or something. What even was that dessert?"

"You don’t wanna know," Arc mumbled.

"I do try," Raven smiled knowingly at Arc, who felt a guilty twinge from her admittedly non-existent hold on demonic culture. "Now, care to reveal where exactly you’re from, Owyn? If that is your real name."

Shit. Forgot about that...

Before Owyn could make an ass of himself, Arc hastily pulled her two companions into an alleyway.

"Look, I know you’re onto him, but Owyn doesn’t have to tell you anything, and neither do I. My whole Academy stay is on the line if I can’t figure out my magic in time to do something practical with it, unless he stays out of trouble."

"What about those strands you’ve been seeing? Chords? Threads?" Raven asked.

Arc hissed, "I don’t understand anything about the threads!"

"I like ’threads’ better," Owyn added.

"Can we focus?!" Arc snapped. "Raven, all I can tell you is that I’m supposed to look after Owyn. I’ll add that if I do, I get to stay on at the Academy regardless of what happens with my magic, but this came from the Chancellor herself, get it? So if he doesn’t want to say anything, will you accept that?" She felt a bit guilty, speaking for Owyn, but he didn’t raise any objections.

"I suppose I can," Raven gave a differential gesture in Owyn’s direction. "Not that I won’t bring it up again if I figure something else out."

"Thank you," Arc said.

"I’m from outside the Veil," Owyn shrugged.

"Owyn!" Arc snapped. "Come on!"

"What? She helped us. We saved each other’s lives the other night. Where I come from, that sort of thing is something you’re supposed to trust."

"Hmm..." Raven held her chin. "That fits. Your secret’s safe with me."

"Just like that?" Owyn asked.

"Just. Like. That. I’m never one to kiss and tell," Raven smirked, her gaze flickering to Arc’s reddening face.

We didn’t even kiss!

"Alright, well, what have you got for us?" Owyn asked Raven. Arc finally noticed the fact that he was keeping his injured hand in his pocket.

"Excuse me?"

"I told you about where I’m from. Arc told us about her ’threads’. So what about you?"

"I don’t have anything to confess. And to be fair, you’ve said nothing about where you’re from, just that you’re from somewhere."

"You called Arc and me an ’item’ earlier."

"I was just..." Raven flustered, "It’s my rivalry!"

"One you didn’t bring up at all, despite the fact you were the one who dragged me out to look for her that night. What does that even mean? Us being an ite-"

"Sh-shut up!" Raven squawked.