Words Spoken in Passing
“Whew⋯.”
This time, I had to get it right. If I failed again, there would be no end to his relentless teasing.
“Hup—”
Scraaaape—
I dragged the spine of my hunting knife across the flint, showering sparks onto a frayed scrap of ramie cloth. Carefully gathering the shaved powder into the very center of the fabric, I braced myself and struck one more time!
Clack!
Fwoosh—
“O-oh! It caught—!”
At long last, a tiny ember no bigger than a pinky fingernail flared to life against the tinder.
Phew⋯. For a dreadful second there, I honestly thought I was going to waste another hour and a half.
Perhaps catching the sound of my triumphant shout, Gawol’s voice drifted over from somewhere along the riverbank.
“Ah, you managed to light it? Bring it over here, then.”
“Coming!”
Cradling the delicate flame as it crept across a dry curl of tree bark, I tiptoed over to the pit he had scooped out of the river sand. Gentle, real gentle.
Plop.
“Haaah⋯. Done.”
Just then, Gawol strolled back into the clearing, his hands overflowing with supplies.
“Let’s see⋯. Fortunately, you didn’t smother it this time. Though taking an hour and twenty minutes just to start a single fire is quite the achievement.”
“Could you maybe keep those thoughts locked inside your head?”
Way to crush a girl’s spirit. Keep talking like that and I’m going to get depressed, you know?
“Then do it properly on the first try next time.”
“I-I’ll get it on the first strike next time!”
Just who did he think he was looking down on?
Hmm⋯. Peering closer at what Gawol was carrying, I noticed more of that rough tree bark from earlier, alongside several fresh river fish skewered on sharpened sticks.
“Are you going to roast those? Raw fish tastes so much better, though⋯.”
“Hah⋯.” Gawol let out a weary sigh at my grumbling. “Do that, and we’ll both be cultivating a parasite farm in our bellies. We’d end up dying long before our time just to pour drinks for our ancestors in the afterlife.”
“I don’t even know who my ancestors are.”
So what if I don't?
He shook his head slowly, looking at me like I was a lost cause.
“Well⋯ strictly speaking, who truly knows all their ancestors? But blood and family are funny that way. Even if you don’t know them, the bond remains unbroken.”
“Really⋯⋯?”
“Yes. Whether you wish it or not.”
As the words left his mouth, Gawol’s expression grew strangely pensive, clouded with some unreadable melancholy.
What was with him all of a sudden?
Clap!
I clapped my hands together loudly. I hated dreary moods.
“All right, all right! Enough with the useless chatter!”
“I offer you a sincere philosophical thought, and you dismiss it as useless?”
“Come on, you know that’s not what I meant.”
Stop trying to paint me as the villain here!
“Fair enough⋯ that is true. In any case, I am going to step away to salt the fish. Once the fire grows a bit larger, toss this bark into the pit.”
“Oh, got it.”
The bundle Gawol handed me was chinaberry bark, which he had shaved off a roadside trunk with his knife earlier.
“Why this, though? Ah, is it to keep the bugs away?”
Gawol glanced back over his shoulder, his eyebrows arching in mild surprise.
“Well, look at you. You can actually anticipate that much now. Yes, that is correct.”
See? I was slowly getting the hang of this wilderness survival routine.
“So, do I throw in everything you gave me?”
He gave a faint nod and turned back toward the water. “Yes. Put it all in. Once the fish is done roasting, I’ll pluck some sweet wormwood nearby and add that as well.”
“Mhm, leave it to me!”
For a horrifying second, I thought he was planning on feeding me raw tree bark⋯.
Tossing it into a fire was something I could handle with my eyes closed.
Shortly after Gawol walked away, the kindling caught fully and the flames began to crackle with vigor.
“Time to⋯.”
Fwip—
When I tossed the strips of bark into the pit, the flames smothered slightly beneath the weight before thick plumes of smoke began to billow.
“Ugh⋯. Smells like temple incense.”
It was a heavy, bitter aroma that coated the tongue in dry powder. It wasn't entirely foul, but it smelled so medicinal that breathing it in felt like it was actively shaving days off my lifespan.
“If I couldn't channel internal energy, I would’ve had to sleep smelling stuff like this every single night⋯.”
Wait, come to think of it, shouldn’t I teach him how to ward off mosquitoes with qi first?
“⋯No, wait. He hasn't even officially agreed to learn anything from me yet. Look at me, getting ahead of myself.”
Still⋯ the very thought of teaching someone felt remarkably novel. The idea that I, of all people, actually had martial insights worthwhile enough to pass down to another human being gave me a warm, fuzzy flutter in my chest.
Pop—
Before long, the chinaberry bark was thoroughly engulfed in the coals, smoldering into gray ash. Yet I still couldn’t hear Gawol’s footsteps.
He only went to sprinkle some salt on the skewered fish; what on earth was taking him so long?
“When is he coming back⋯?”
The moment he gets here, I'm going to give him a piece of my—
Rustle.
“Looking for me?”
“Gyaaah—! H-holy crap! Hey, make some noise when you walk!”
Before my thought even finished, Gawol materialized right beside my shoulder.
How did a mere 6-Geom with a frame that ridiculously tall manage to move without displacing a single breath of air? Was he an undercover assassin in a past life or something?
Gawol looked utterly taken aback by my screech, wearing a look of pure exasperation before his face smoothed back into its default deadpan mask.
“Well⋯⋯ it was not as though I intended to scare you. At any rate, let us roast the fish first and converse later.”
“A-ah, yeah. Right. Let's do that.”
Let's see here.
We arranged the flat stones we’d gathered earlier around the embers and propped the fish skewers against them. Just like that, the pit finally began to look like a proper campsite hearth.
Mmm, the aroma was undeniably mouthwatering.
Over the fierce heat of the coals, the moisture glistening across the silver scales was already hissing and crusting into a golden crisp.
And then.
“Uh⋯⋯ Gawol, what is that in your other hand⋯?”
“Ah, this?”
In his left grip was a slab of tree bark even wider than before, easily the size of a grown man's palm.
“Just wait a moment. If we want it to steep properly, we need to get it onto the fire right now.”
“D-do we really need it to steep properly⋯?”
Ignoring my whimpering plea, he laid the bark across a clean, flat river slab and began mincing it into paper-thin ribbons with his dagger.
“What kind of question is that? This is medicine; of course we want maximum efficacy. Slicing it finely like this is the only way to extract the active properties into the broth.”
Ugh, that stench⋯.
“This⋯ is to kill parasites, right?”
Judging purely by the rank odor drifting off the sap, it felt lethal enough to kill a grown human, let alone a few intestinal worms.
“Yes. It is a decoction for eliminating tapeworms and roundworms.”
“I see⋯?”
I vaguely recalled those names from health class. Parasites that were practically eradicated in twenty-first-century modern society⋯.
“They infect your system whenever you consume raw meat or unwashed river fish. Hearing the reckless dietary habits you boast about, I cannot help but wonder what percentage of your total body weight consists entirely of parasites.”
“I-it can’t possibly be that bad⋯ right?”
Gawol subtly shifted his gaze toward the dark river, his voice dropping into a somber, eerie tone.
“They say that when an old man who loved raw beef passed away, the mortician opened his belly and found a writhing fistful of tapeworms squirming inside his corpse⋯.”
“Hey! Stop saying such ominous things!”
Disgusting bastard⋯.
Hearing that vivid horror story made my stomach feel phantom-itchy from the inside out.
“Now then, once we put this in the pot and boil it with fresh water⋯ Ah, may I ask you one thing?”
“W-what?”
What morbid nonsense was he going to spout at me now?
“You claimed earlier that you use internal qi to ward off mosquitoes.”
“Yeah? I do.”
My proprietary signature technique, thank you very much.
He looked at me with an expression of genuine, innocent curiosity.
“Can you not use that qi to block roundworms, too?”
“⋯⋯Huh?”
If you can block mosquitoes, why can’t you block roundworms? What kind of absurd, uneducated question was that?
The foundational principle of martial qi was projecting internal energy outward from the meridians. Even if you tried to circulate qi through your own body beyond ordinary flows, the absolute limit was reinforcing your extremities or coating the surface of your skin.
Unless one had ascended to the conceptual realm of a 3-Sword master, manipulating internal energy to directly meddle with microscopic parasites inside delicate internal organs was physically impossible for someone of my rank.
“Of course I can’t! If I could do that, wouldn't I be able to instantly neutralize any lethal poison the very second I swallowed it?”
Use that brain of yours for two seconds!
“Ah⋯ is that so? Well, nothing to be done about it, then. In that case, sit quietly and drink your herbal medicine like a good patient.”
“⋯⋯C-come to think of it, if I really concentrate and put my mind to it, maybe I could—”
Gawol narrowed his eyes into razor-thin slits.
“Stop talking utter nonsense. Eat your fish first. It appears to be thoroughly cooked.”
“Fine⋯⋯.”
Haaa. I was completely cornered; there was no escaping the grim reality of having to pour that atrocious swamp-water down my throat⋯.
Crunch—
“Mmm⋯.”
While the murky, bubbling decoction in the iron pot assaulted my nose with noxious herbal fumes, the roasted fish was heavenly. The skin was paper-crisp, the meat tender and flaky, creating a bizarre sensory tug-of-war between ecstasy and dread.
“⋯⋯Is it flavorful?”
“Yeah⋯. The salt is spot on.”
“Then I suppose I will need to sprinkle a bit more onto my own portion.”
“Whyyy⋯?”
“Because tears are practically dripping into yours. Half a pinch should compensate for the extra seasoning, don’t you think?”
“⋯⋯⋯⋯.”
My life was truly, undeniably pathetic.
Shiver, tremble—
My tail was tucked so hard against my thighs it hurt, and my wolf ears were pinned back against my skull, vibrating in sheer, unadulterated terror.
I was a helpless prey animal cornered by an apex predator.
“Ugh⋯, d-do I really have to drink this? Please? You’re joking, right?”
To describe my state of mind in a single phrase: I felt like a shivering, terrified mutt being dragged by its scruff to the veterinary table for an injection. If that sounded like more than a phrase, consider it three times as agonizing.
In any case, Gawol was currently holding a small bowl fashioned from nickel-brass right in front of my lips.
“You must drink it. You do not labor to feed yourself merely to nourish a colony of worms, do you?”
I don’t want to drink it⋯⋯.
“B-but still! They’re living creatures too, aren't they? If you think about it from a certain perspective, since they were born inside my belly, aren’t they kind of like my own children⋯?”
Right? Wouldn't peaceful coexistence be far more humane than drinking that toxic sludge? Besides, I saw you secretly stirring something thick and dark into the pot earlier! What the hell was that?
Gawol stared dead into my eyes for several unbroken seconds, before muttering beneath his breath in horrifying deadpan sincerity.
“⋯⋯⋯ Tsk, have the parasites already burrowed into her cerebrum?”
Hey! As if!
Don’t give me that cold, terrifying look! If you shoved a pair of glasses onto your nose right now, you’d look like some sociopathic anime villain declaring he’s about to stand atop the heavens, you bastard!
“Considering her erratic behavioral patterns up until now, hmm⋯⋯.”
Eeeek—!
“Fine, damn it! I-I’ll drink it! I’ll drink it, okay?!”
Snatch!
“Gulp—”
I ripped the metal bowl from Gawol’s hands, pinched my nostrils shut, and threw my head back, chugging the broth down in one desperate, breathless heave.
Guh⋯, whoa.
Even with my breath held tight, the pungent herbal vapors punched straight through the roof of my mouth and into my nasal cavity—a scent identical to smoldering mosquito coils.
And then.
“Guhhh⋯⋯⋯ Huh?”
Wait a second.
Why on earth does this actually taste⋯ good?
Sluuuurp—
I drained every last drop clinging to the bottom of the bowl, slammed it down onto the rock, and immediately demanded answers.
“What is this? Why does it taste so good?! If it tasted like this, you should have told me from the start! It’s sweet, tart, and⋯ wait, this is so familiar, where have I tasted this before⋯⋯ Huuuuurp—”
“⋯⋯⋯.”
“I-I didn’t do that on purpose, okay⋯?”
Gawol slowly dragged a hand down his face, pressing his fingers against his eyes.
“Pffft—”
And then, he completely lost it.
“Bwahahahaha—! Ah, truly. How can anyone’s face contort into such ridiculous expressions? And that magnificent belch at the very end⋯⋯ Khm. You said the flavor was familiar?”
I was relieved he wasn't mad about the burp, but being openly laughed at like this was infuriating!
“Hey! What are you laughing at?!”
Gawol clutched his ribs with both hands, his shoulders trembling uncontrollably.
“How could I *pfft*—how could I possibly hold it in? Think carefully. What does it taste like?”
Think carefully⋯? Something this sweet, pleasantly astringent, and rich in fruity tartness⋯ Hmm.
“I know for a fact I’ve tasted this before, but what was it⋯?”
The memory danced right on the tip of my tongue, teasing me.
“Haaah⋯. I haven’t laughed that hard in months.”
Gawol took a steadying breath, wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, and extended a wooden spoon dripping with a thick, amber-colored syrup.
“Here, try this. It should be pleasantly sweet.”
“What is that? Poison?”
Have I outlived my usefulness as a bodyguard already?
“Just taste it first, will you?”
Look at this smug jerk, grinning so wide his teeth were showing⋯.
“Fine, whatever! Slurp—”
The moment the thick liquid coated my tongue, an explosion of fragrant, tart, and deeply concentrated sweetness flooded my palate.
“What is this? This is what you tossed into the pot earlier while it was boiling, wasn't it?”
Gawol nodded serenely.
“Yes, that is correct⋯. Though, have you truly still not deduced what it is⋯?”
“Huh? Deduced what? What is it, then?”
What was it?! Why was he keeping me in suspense like this?!
Gawol pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger, utterly exasperated.
“Did you not beg me to buy this for you two days ago? Making a tremendous fuss about how heavenly it tasted, pleading with me to purchase just one jar to take on the road?”
“I begged you to buy something? Did I really⋯⋯ Ah.”
Wait.
A memory clicked into place. A conversation we had at the market outpost right before venturing into the Northeast wilderness. I had bragged about how back in my old life, whenever my stomach felt heavy and bloated, this was the miracle cure I always drank.
“It’s⋯ green plum syrup, isn't it?”
Gawol finally gave a satisfied nod.
“You have finally solved the grand mystery. Yes. That is precisely what it is. When I stepped away right before our departure to fetch our final provisions, I packed three full jars of it.”
So that was it⋯! No wonder he packed it right alongside our dried travel rations—it was food all along!
“⋯⋯So, uh, do you have any more in that pot? That sweet-and-sour herbal blend is actually kind of addictive.”
“⋯⋯⋯.”
What? Why?
Why the sudden dead silence?!