After the meeting, Derry, Tristan, and Levi seemed to have something important to discuss. I believed this made Po suddenly remember that I hadn't eaten all day.

He escorted me outside and led me to the kitchen. I thought he was going to just bring out some food he had saved for me, but he decided to cook me something new. He placed a pot on the hearth and lit the wood beneath it. The hearth itself was built on a foundation of sand and brick, perhaps to insulate the wooden deck from the flames.

I watched as Po moved, humming a tune and swaying to the rhythm of it as he poured water into the pot and turned around to the table-like platform in the kitchen. He brought out a couple of vegetables and sliced through them with startling speed, his knife a blur against the cutting board.

'Oh wow… Chef de cuisine.'

He slid it all to the side where he simply swept it down into the boiling water in the pot, not a single piece escaping him.

He opened a cupboard above and brought out a bunch of paper-bound and rope-tied packages. He opened them with sparkling light in his eyes, the kind of anticipation a child might show unwrapping a gift they'd been waiting weeks to receive.

He held what to me looked like a whitish clam in his hands, and sucked it slightly with a relieved sigh, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. His shoulders dropped, tension I hadn't realized he was carrying melting away.

"Hmm, it really was a good idea to marinate these before leaving Faeren Heights. There's something about them — beats freshly marinated ones!"

I had no idea what this boy here was talking about. I wasn't an alien to the kitchen, but I had tried cooking rice one time. Let's just say the rice cooked me. But at least I knew how to prepare tea with a bit of dedication. And to be honest, I respect myself for that. You should see my older brothers.

"You really love cooking, huh…" I commented, admiring the joy and flow of freedom that accompanied the boy. There was something almost musical about the way he worked, each movement flowing into the next without hesitation.

"Love?" He paused, a clam suspended halfway to the pot. "Hmm, I guess so, but it's more than love to me." His eyes shimmered with something glassy, distant. "For me, this is everything."

I noticed the look of depth in his eyes, and wondered for a moment if it was advisable to probe further. I didn't want to be in people's business, but I was also curious.

Alas, I gave in to the demon.

"How did you learn to cook?"

Po was already bringing out a couple more of the clams from their package and dropping them into the pot, the shells making soft plunking sounds as they hit the water.

"My mother! My mother taught me." He excitedly looked at me, his foxy ears perking up, before turning away to continue what he was doing. "She was a slave and was in charge of the kitchen. After she gave birth to me, she taught me everything about it…" His hands slowed, just for a moment. "I didn't have much choice though. I had to serve the young master of the family I was born into."

"Oh…" My mind in that moment chastised me.

'See what you caused…'

It felt like an old wound to Po. I wanted to know more, still, but at this point I had to mind my greed.

Po beamed, the brightness returning so quickly it almost gave me whiplash.

"You look so worried, Mr. Cade. You absolutely shouldn't worry about me — I ran away ten years ago and met the boss later. I'm very happy now."

Now that he had said these things, his smile looked different. There was something underneath it, something that had survived. A resilience that only came from having walked through fire and decided to keep walking anyway.

But I gave him a smile of my own too.

"I'm happy you managed to run away… but your mother?"

'Cade!'

Po looked down for a moment, slightly sullen. His tail, which had been swaying contentedly, went still.

"She died… which was why I ran away."

"Oh…"

'Of course!'

The atmosphere became somewhat awkward… or maybe I was the one thinking it so, because this fox-kin was still humming a melody as he stirred the soup with a deep spoon. He cupped out a little and tasted it regardless of its temperature, his face scrunching in concentration before smoothing into satisfaction.

"Hmm, tasty. All is coming in place."

At that moment someone else entered the kitchen. The person had a straw hat covering their face, its brim casting deep shadows that obscured their features entirely.

"Is that clam soup I smell?"

Po looked up at the new entrant. He stopped humming, and a fierce scowl twisted his face — a complete transformation from the warmth he'd shown me just moments before.

"It is very wrong to enter someone's kitchen without asking."

"Ah. Forgive me." The entrant cupped their hands together and bowed low. "I was overtaken by the smell of clam stew. I have not had one since I left the Waterlands." Their voice carried a formal quality, measured and unhurried. "Are you perhaps from the Waterlands?"

Po wasn't scowling anymore, but he still had a glint of hostility in his eyes, something cold and assessing that hadn't been there before.

"Where I'm from is none of your business. Please step out of the kitchen and have your seat somewhere I can find you. I will bring your portion to you."

"Ha. Okay, thank you." The person cupped their hands and bowed to Po and to me before eventually leaving, their footsteps barely making a sound on the wooden deck.

I observed the closed door for a moment before bringing my eyes to steal glances at Po.

'So he can be harsh.'

At the gate too, he had perfectly put on an act such that even the guards were convinced. How had I missed that?

Po… he was certainly a boy of many identities. And I didn't know which one was his true face.

'Maybe he's a little bit of everything… maybe that's what matters?'

One thing was for sure. The face he made as he enjoyed cooking, and the crack I saw while he spoke about his past… those were real. Those weren't performances. Whatever else Po might be, those moments belonged to him alone.

He finally closed the pot with a satisfying clatter of the lid and sighed.

"Now, all that's left is to wait!"

I nodded and looked at him for a moment. He was humming again now, moving his legs and packing up, cleaning the place with practiced efficiency. The hostility from earlier had evaporated like morning mist, leaving behind only the cheerful catkin I'd first met.

I glanced back at the closed door, thinking about the person that just left. Then I picked the correct timing—as Po turned to me after closing the cupboards above him, I threw the question.

"Who is that? A crew member?"

He tilted his head, one ear twitching.

"Uh? No. She's traveling to Crystalis… so she boarded."

"Crystalis, huh…"

Crystalis was one of seven continents — a continent that had more water than land, dotted with islands and underwater structures. The place was dominated by Merfolk more than it was with humans, which only made me more curious about her identity and her business in such a place. And also…

'I wonder if I'll get to see some floating islands before we board another ship.'

"Finally!" Po shouted, pulling me out of my thoughts. "Food is ready!"

'Well, that didn't take long.'

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.