You've Been Kidnapped
"You cooked for an elf? Have you lost your mind!?"
The man who'd stopped by the restaurant shouted the moment he heard my story.
Was it really worth that much shock? If an elf got hungry, they could eat, couldn't they? But his face was grave, and he went on in a tone that said this was nothing to brush aside.
"Look, I'm only saying this just in case... you didn't make it for them more than once, did you?"
"One elf has been sharing my table for a while now. The other two, about three days of meals..."
"You maniac!"
Past grave and straight into terror, the man swept a look around us. Aside from him and me, the restaurant was empty. He opened his mouth, voice trembling.
"Listen carefully. Elves... they've spent their whole lives eating nothing but flavorless slop. They don't know what fine food even is."
"They did seem that way."
"So... if they eat something too delicious, they go mad and cross the line. They lose all control."
"Oh, come on. What are you talking about?"
I hadn't lived with Iseria all that long—not quite a month—but she hadn't caused a single bit of trouble in that time. I waved him off. Nonsense. If this guy saw Iseria perfectly normal, he'd have to drop a prejudice like that. She was probably rolling around in her room on the second floor right now.
"Iseria? What are you doing?"
She didn't answer. Uneasy, I started up to the second floor myself. The man caught my wrist.
"No! Don't go up there!"
"It's fine. I'm telling you, not every elf is like that."
"No, they're not!!"
"Wake up!"
All at once, that single word—wake up—left my head ringing blank.
Huh? What? I was sure I'd just been... eating pajeon, those scallion pancakes?
And then I woke from the dream.
"JINWOOOOO!!!!"
A dark room, where I couldn't tell where I was or what time it was. I sat up, body soaked in cold sweat.
We'd all been eating pajeon when a vicious dizziness hit me out of nowhere. Had the elves carried me here after I collapsed? But this was not my house, no matter how I looked at it. I'd never seen this room before.
I climbed off the bed and stood. No dizziness, and nothing hurt. Feeling my way through the dark ahead of me, I opened the door.
Light slammed in without warning.
My pupils, stretched wide from the dark, couldn't take brightness like that.
"Agh, my eyes."
"Hah— Human... sir. You're awake!"
"Huh."
Flash-blinded, I could barely make out the shape in front of me. I didn't need a clear look to catch the pointed ears and the platinum-blonde hair. No twin tails, though, so it wasn't Iseria. Not Seiran's face, or Veila's either. Then who?
"Uh, where is this...?"
"Please wait a moment. My lady!"
Questions had piled up like a mountain, but the unknown elf left me with an order to wait and hurried off to find the young lady.
Hold on. An elf. Platinum blonde. Going to fetch a young lady?
On instinct I looked past the window pouring light into the corridor.
"Oh... oh, fuck."
Through the wide-open window stood an enormous tree. Not merely large—genuinely, stupidly huge, and beautiful. The World Tree, which I'd only ever heard about in rumors.
Nowhere was it written this is the World Tree, but I knew. If a tree that majestic, that brimming with life, that absurdly colossal wasn't the World Tree, then what was?
And that meant the place I was standing was the country of the elves. Nuardel.
What. What in the world had happened while I was asleep? Had someone teleported me?
My head had gone completely white with confusion and panic when a familiar voice reached me.
"Jinwoo! You're up!"
"Iseria!"
Her clothes were different from usual. Not as lavish as an imperial noble's, but a pale yellow-green dress in soft pastels that sat beautifully with the fresh, lively look peculiar to elves. Seeing her dressed like that turned my guess into certainty.
"You crazy elf bitch!!! Where the hell did you bring me!!!"
"Eek!"
After something like this, I was allowed to be angry. It was time Iseria answered every last question.
The elven city was truly peaceful.
The World Tree, a blessing of shade, stood at the city's heart, and sunlight slipping through its leaves glittered over the streets in fits and starts. Being a long-lived people, they didn't have many children in sight—but they weren't absent either.
"It's my turn this time!"
Eee—! Ee—!
The young elves I caught glimpses of were playing with spirits every bit as cute as they were.
"Would you trade those shoes for this bowl?"
"Hmm. Doesn't look bad."
Beside them, two elven men were making a deal. It wasn't that they had no concept of a market, but it looked rather different from human society. No currency—trade built on barter.
"I'd like a bowl too. Anything I can help with?"
"Good timing. I was about to tidy the storehouse."
If you had no goods, it seemed a trade could still be struck with labor as the price. In every way unlike humans: a mysterious, cozy way of life.
Sitting on a patch of grass and watching it, I quietly opened my mouth.
"Iseria."
"U-uh... yeah?"
"So what am I supposed to do about this."
"I'm sorry... I think I went a little crazy for a second."
Back at her mansion a little while ago, I'd been furious and ready to unleash a storm of questions. But she'd asked to talk outside, so I'd swallowed my anger and come out. Nuardel's storybook everyday life was certainly striking. It did not, however, count as a reason for kidnapping me.
"Let's hear the reason, at least. Why'd you kidnap me?"
"Well... even if I asked you to come with me, I didn't think you would..."
"No, before that. The reason you decided to take me in the first place."
Of course I wouldn't have gone. I still hadn't even traveled the Empire, and I had plenty of work left to do. In that situation, I had even less intention of visiting some elven country I knew nothing about. Not that this part mattered much. What I wanted to know was why she'd brought me. Had she dragged me to Nuardel just to make her meals while I was here?
"B-because it was delicious."
"What?"
"Because it was delicious! I brought you because your cooking tastes so good!"
"Why is this real."
Why was this actually the truth? I couldn't tell whether I was supposed to be pleased or annoyed. What Iseria was saying, right now, amounted to your cooking is so stupidly good that I kidnapped you, morals and law be damned! Was I meant to take that gladly, as a cook? Or was I obviously supposed to be angry? So many bizarre things had happened these past few months that my emotional threshold felt broken. I'd always been the type to live by well, that's just how it is, and it had only gotten worse.
"No. Even so, this is not okay. I have a schedule too!!"
"I-I'm sorry... I'm really sorry."
Threshold up or threshold down, wrong was still wrong. Even if Calius wasn't coming back from his peddling route anytime soon, there was no telling when something might happen. I had to check the hardtack factory, and whether the deliveries to the knight order were going smoothly. And the doenjang had finally come out perfect, so I'd been about to enjoy it a little—only to get kidnapped clear across the world and put to work cooking. Aigoo. My luck.
While I was worrying over everything I'd left behind, a question occurred to me.
"Wait. Can a human just walk into the elven country? Did Seiran and Veila allow this?"
"Forgiveness is faster than permission, usually. Seiran and Veila agreed to bringing you, too."
"Heh... the state of this country is a disgrace. End times. Truly the end times."
"A-and! You're from Silbaerin, aren't you? So it should be fine. Probably?"
"Huh. Why's that?"
These elves were all the same. Was border security allowed to be this sloppy? I was working through my questions with Iseria when she tossed out another keyword. Being from Silbaerin made it fine—and why was that, exactly? Did I even count as someone from Silbaerin?
Genetically, I'm a native Korean.
Administratively, yes, I was registered as a resident of the Empire's Silbaerin domain. Iseria didn't seem to mean it that way, though. Then in what sense was it fine? Just before I could hear the answer, the elf I'd run into the moment I left the room approached. They glanced at me and spoke.
"My lady, the family head has arrived. He says he wishes to see the human... sir."
"Father's here. All right."
Human sir. What an awkward form of address. They seemed to be forcing it out because they didn't want to call me that at all, and somehow that stung. It wasn't as if I'd come here because I wanted to.
"Jinwoo. Could you come with me, just this once?"
Iseria watched my face carefully and asked, cautious. She wasn't the type to speak this prettily. Well, what could I do? The water was already spilled. Digging in my heels and refusing to go would mean nothing, and since I was in the elven country whether I'd chosen it or not, it was better to meet them halfway. Before I stood, I added one thing.
"Next time something like this happens, no mercy. I'm letting this one slide, and only this one."
"Yeah... I understand. I'm really sorry..."
"Let's go. Anything I need to know?"
"No! Nothing. Even if you're casual, he'll understand."
This was the first time I'd seen her look this sincerely sorry since the day we met. Maybe she was repenting even more than she had then.
Then she shouldn't have done something bad in the first place.
The thought did cross my mind, but a moment's impulse is a hard thing to hold back. On top of that, fifty by human years or not, Iseria was an elf who had only just come of age. Taking that into account, there was no need to scold her any further. I followed her into the mansion.
It wasn't as enormous as Duke Kailan's estate, but it was still a large building. We headed for the reception room. Furnished with clean, natural pieces, the room already held the head of the Sildiel family—Iseria's father.
He looked about Duke Kailan's age. Platinum blonde, less lustrous than Iseria's, and yet the sharp eyes and the set of his features wore a handsome middle-aged elegance without holding any of it back. Our eyes met, and I flinched. When a man who looked like that was staring at you, someone as weak-spirited as me had a hard time enduring it. An awkward air hung in the reception room.
A sharp rustle—then he was on his feet.
Iseria's father shot up from his seat.
"My daughter has caused you tremendous trouble. As her father, I apologize. I am sorry!"
And then, slowly, he bent at the waist.
A full ninety-degree bow—the kind I'd only ever given to nightmare customers. For the first time in my life, I was on the receiving end. From an elf I estimated to be about my great-grandfather's age.
The fuck? What is this? I got kidnapped, and he's doing that? Is he an idiot?