Metem: The Blind Chemist

CHAPTER 23

The night air was cold and the sky was clear as the two men made their way through the trees and bushes that lay behind the tavern. Cici had produced a torch and guided them to a break in the fence that surrounded the small village, remaining silent for most of the walk. They kept up a steady pace until they reached the river somewhere downstream from the village.

Another ten minutes or so of walking and they stood at the bottom of a tall rock shelf that rose well above the river. On both sides of the water were large rock faces, as though the river itself had split a small mountain and pushed it to either side. Cici then walked steadily away from the river, obviously having made this trek many times. Kopius was starting to get the impression that torch light was more for his sake than Cici needing to know where he was going.

They scaled up some boulders to the top of the rocks, and then slid down the other side once the drop was a safe distance. Here the bushes were much taller and more dense. Kopius couldn’t help wondering how they weren’t catching fire as Cici used his torch to move branches out of the way.

Soon they came to a small opening in the thick brush that had a backstop of the tall rocks. Beyond the small opening was a cave mouth of which Cici made a straight line for. Kopius, still not completely over the caves he had first found himself in, stopped short of entering.

As Cici brought the light with him, a large cavern took shape, along with many homely features. There was a cot on the far wall and a firepit with various metal rods adorned about its edges. A number of large barrels–like casks–were stacked by the cots, and clothes hung from a string like a clothesline. There were a few other pieces of functional furniture, little messes here and there. This fantasy world equivalent of a bachelor pad was only missing a Raquel Welch pin-up poster.

As Kopius entered the space he could see that to his right was a small waterhole and to his left was a crudely made dresser with several drawers. There were other items of shapes and sizes that Kopius couldn’t make out their purpose, but all in all, the place had a domesticated feel. Cici threw his lit torch into his firepit, and then added a large handful of dry branches before putting a few logs on top of those.

“Make yourself at home,” Cici said with a smile, gesturing to a wooden-backed chair that looked very similar to the one Kopius had been about to accost Brizzl with. “Sloan traded with me,” Cici said, ”I had to fix it up a bit, but I can assure you it is almost as comfortable as my own.”

The big man dragged over a larger chair that had been by his cot and brought it closer to the fire. It was wrapped in several layers of cloth and looked to have a large cushion on the seat. The two men sat, much like the first time they had met but in considerably more comfort. Cici stoked the fire and the smoke meandered up to the ceiling and before leaking out fissures into the night sky. It left the cave feeling warm but not congested.

“I am ready for some food,” Cici said, placing a flat cutlery board on his lap. “How about you, Kopius? You look like you could use a bite to eat.”

“I’ve been living off water and carrots the last two days,” Kopius replied, his tired eyes focused on the dancing flames. “I will take whatever you are making.” He sat back in his chair and closed his eyes; his body aching for rest. He could hear Cici humming as the fatigue took control.

Kopius felt something nudging his shoulder and his eyes cracked open. Cici stood by with a metal pot in his hand and a smile on his face.

“Have a good nap?” Cici asked. Kopius rubbed his eyes and stretched a bit, his body thankful for the rest, though sleeping in the chair had come with new aches.

“Sorry,” Kopius muttered, ”I didn’t mean to doze off. How long was I out for?”

“Long enough for me to finish cooking,” the large man said, “Go splash some water on your face and I’ll have your food ready.” He motioned to the small watering hole and Kopius obliged.

As he returned to his seat, a short end table was placed next to it. A pot of steaming food sat atop, a utensil stuck upright too. He sat down and smelled the meal. It had the aroma of cooked meat with baked beans. If there had been a large piece of bread and a soda can, it would have felt like his old days of camping as a young boy. Cici stood by the fire and the makeshift kitchen he had created while Kopius had slept. Various pots hung over the fire, while the bard chopped on a board he had rigged to some poles.

“Don’t wait on me, boy, dig in,” Cici said, minding his task.

Kopius did not wait. He peered in the pot and was delighted to see a large piece of meat saturated in sauce surrounded by large bean-looking morsels. He picked up the fork, skewered the meat, and took a healthy bite.

The meat was tender and juicy. For the slightest of moments, Kopius savored the flavorful delicacy–then he immediately spat the hunk of meat to the ground, gagging and coughing. He fought the urge to puke and suppressed, as best he could, all while vile stomach acid tryed to escape his gut.

Cough, gag, spit, cough…

“What in the land of the dead are you doing?!” Cici bellowed, his words echoing off the cavernous walls.

“THAT DOESN’T TASTE LIKE CHICKEN!” Kopius yelled, pointing at the offending agent, wiping away the remaining dribble from his mouth and tongue.

Cici paused and then laughed.

“Of course not! It was a Lomster and now it is ruined!” Cici responded playfully. He swept down and picked up the meat, poured some water on it to wash it off and placed it back on the fire. “If it is chicken you fancy, we would need to head farther south.”

“But everything tastes like chicken,” Kopius said in a hollow and distant voice.

“Maybe where you come from, but here there will be flavor!” Cici finished recooking the meat and placed it back in the pot next to Kopius. “Now, small bites this time.”

Kopius rinsed out his mouth with some water and stared at the steaming pot. He hadn’t spit the food out because it tasted bad; quite the opposite. He had spit it out because it didn’t taste like chicken. Everything tastes like chicken, he kept saying to himself. His disbelief couldn’t be shaken. As much as he tried to reconcile everything that had happened to him over the last two or three days, even his own senses were rebelling against him. His stomach grumbled and he took a deep breath.

Kopius cut away a small piece of the meat and without any further fanfare placed it in his mouth. As he chewed the tender meat he pleasantly confirmed that it tasted really good. It had a sweetness to it that seemed to come from the sauce and the meat itself reminded him of seafood without being overbearingly fish-like. He took a second bite and enjoyed the flavor even more. Before he knew it, he had finished the entire dish. When he looked up from his pot, Cici was staring at him with a look of pride on his face.

“You had me worried there for a moment,” the big man said jovially. “I never once had anyone spit out my food. I thought maybe I had lost my touch.”

“Sorry about that, man, I was expecting, well… chicken.”

“Lomsters are a bit bigger than chickens and more dangerous, if I am being honest. They have nasty stingers, and that venom is something you just have to wait out. It’s a bit painful.” he finished with a grimace, the look of a person speaking from experience.

“It tasted great,” Kopius said, appeasing the cook.

“Good to hear, good to hear.” Cici passed him a mug with some ale and the two men sat in their chairs, finding comfort in the fire and silence.

Kopius was lost in thought when he heard the familiar sounds of a musical instrument being adjusted. He watched, much like the first night they had met, as Cici tuned a medium-sized guitar.

“You going to sing me another song?” Kopius asked.

“Not tonight,” Cici replied with a chuckle. ”An instrument that is not tuned is like an unrefined blade. You must keep it sharp for when it is needed.”

“I had never considered that,” Kopius said.

“You’ve never lived by the blade, then?”

“Not in real life,” Kopius admitted. “I lived more by my wits,” he said with an apprehensive chuckle, shaking his head. Cici stopped to look at Kopius and placed his instrument on the ground.

“A sharp wit is just as dangerous as a blade, my friend.”

“I think mine is a bit dull at this point.”

“From what I have seen so far, you seem to have a resourceful mind.”

“Situational awareness used to be my strong suit,” Kopius replied mournfully.

“What happened to it?”

“I don’t know, somewhere along the way I started second guessing everything. It went downhill from there.”

“You handled the situation with Brizzl just fine.”

“That’s because I wasn’t thinking, man, I just… reacted.”

“That sounds like instinctual awareness to me,” Cici said with emphasis that seemed to indicate a deeper meaning.

“I don’t follow.”

“From what I gather, situational would happen before an action, yes?”

Kopius nodded in agreement but still gave the ‘kinda’ gesture.

“Instinctual, I would guess, happens during the action,” Cici said.

“Are you telling me to stop thinking?” Kopius asked, with a short laugh.

“Not completely!” Cici laughed back, ”I would say to trust your instincts until you can trust your ability to reason.”

“It’s been hard to get a grasp on reality lately,” Kopius said, motioning to the world around him.

“You still don’t know what is happening, eh?”

“Not in the least. Still hoping to wake up and then go find myself a therapist.”

“Well, then, while we wait for you to clear things up, you can tell me how a level 3 princess bested a level 19 strongman.”