[Re:write] Episode 46: The Sage's Table and the Artisan's Eye

—Rewrite despair.

[For first-time readers] If you want to grasp the world setting first,
here is the link to the beginning of the story, Episode 1
👉　Episode 1: The Observer Wakes in the Forest
For work information and summaries, click here
👉　For first-time readers | Please start 'Re:write' from Episode 1

The royal capital's market was swelling with color and scent.

Red spice powder formed mountains on wooden plates, and the sweet smell of burnt fat flowed through the street, mixing with the scent of dried herbs.
At the eaves of the fabric shop, dyed cloth caught the wind, yellow rinds were piled in the fruit seller's baskets, and the voices of merchants bounced under the roof awnings.

Kai and the others were moving through that bustle.

Their goal was to procure supplies necessary for the next abandoned mine survey.
Food, fuel, rope, lighting, tools. There were many things they needed, but there were limits to the money they could spend and the weight they could carry.
The market smelled rich, but in Kai's mind, numbers were already lining up with a dry sound.

“...The math doesn't add up.”

Kai stopped in front of a stall piled with dried meat and preserved food.
He pinched a piece of hard, shriveled meat with his fingers, and while looking at the cross-section, he was mentally rearranging the weight, caloric content, and spoilage risk.

“Including the round trip to the abandoned mine, the survey period, and reserve days, we need at least ten days' worth of calories. But if we stock up for everyone, the load weight will approach the limit. With this level of processing, there's also a possibility that internal moisture remains. The risk of spoilage cannot be ignored.”
“I've never seen someone frown that much in front of food.”

Drake slapped Kai on the back with a smack. The dry sound echoed even against the stall's wooden board.

“Food is the next most important thing after your life. If you skimp on money here and end up unable to move because you're hungry, that's the end of it, isn't it?”
“Inefficient weight increase cuts into operational time.”
“If you get hungry, you'll die along with that operational time.”
“I am talking about nutritional density.”
“I'm talking about staying alive to get back.”

Drake jerked his chin at the stall owner.

“Besides, the smoked meat here isn't bad. The old man's face is suspicious, but the meat is reliable.”
“Sir, the comment about my face was unnecessary.”
“I did praise the meat, didn't I?”

The stall owner made a sour face, and Aria laughed softly.
In the heat of the market, that laugh sounded a little cool.

“Drake-san is right. I think it's necessary to have something delicious once in a while.”
“I understand it as a luxury item. But as a staple food—”

At that point, Kai's words stopped.

His gaze shifted from the dried meat at the stall to his own shoulder.
There, the water bird—Undine—was perched with its transparent wings folded.
The small bubbles trapped inside its body were slowly rising upward as they caught the light.

Kai's eyes narrowed slightly.

“...Wait.”
“Something's started again.”

Drake said, sounding half-resigned.

The essence of food preservation lies in how well you can remove the moisture that acts as a medium for decay.
Drying meat with heat makes it lighter, but the proteins denature and the flavor suffers.
What is needed is not to cook it.
It is to remove only the water.

Kai turned on his heel and faced the stall owner.

“A block of raw venison. The freshest you have.”
“Not dried meat?”
“Raw is fine.”
“Did you even listen to what was just said?”

Drake raised an eyebrow.

“I heard it. That’s why I’m buying raw meat.”
“Your logic is completely broken.”

After receiving the venison, Kai headed straight into the back alley of the market.
The shaded cobblestones were colder than the main street, and a faint, sour smell rose from the old water pooled in the gaps between the barrels.

“Kai? What on earth are you...”

While Aria stood there, bewildered, Kai placed the venison on the cobblestones. The red mass made a dull thud.

“Undine. Extract only the water from this chunk of meat. Freeze it, and turn it into gas.”
“You always phrase things so violently.”

Drake crossed his arms.

Undine floated down from Kai’s shoulder.
Her transparent body spread out thinly, enveloping the surface of the venison. The red color of the meat distorted slightly behind the film of water.

There was a sharp, thin crack.

White frost raced across the surface of the meat, and the next moment, cold mist blew out onto the cobblestones. There was no heat. There was no fire. Simply, the moisture was drawn out from the surface of the venison, unraveling into the air like white smoke.

The banter vanished from Drake’s face.

The venison shrank rapidly, its red color deepening.
Small holes opened on the surface, and it dried out deep into the fibers.
A few seconds later, what remained was a piece of meat that had shrunk to about a third of its original size, looking like pumice stone.

“...What is this?”

Drake poked it with his finger. The dry surface crumbled slightly.

“It’s freeze-sublimation!”

Elara was the first to speak up. Before anyone noticed, she had pulled out a loupe and was bringing her face close to the cross-section of the venison. Too close.

"You're moving only the moisture from a solid to a gas without applying heat. There's minimal collapse of the cellular structure. This isn't just dried meat. It's a preserved food that has broken through the very concept of travel rations. Kai, you've just stepped on the history of food preservation!"
"I don't recall stepping on anything. I just processed it."
"That way of putting it!"

Aria was looking at Undine with concern rather than the venison.

"Undine... did you eat the moisture from the meat? Are you feeling alright?"

Undine shivered with satisfaction.

"She seems fine."
"Is that really enough to judge by...?"

Drake took a bite of the dried venison. At first, it crumbled crisply, then immediately absorbed the moisture in his mouth and rehydrated. The rich scent of meat rose up, and his eyebrows twitched slightly.

"...It's good."
"Continue your evaluation."
"It's way better than the cheap stuff around here. It's light, and it seems like it'll fill you up. This thing is one hell of a cooking utensil."

Aria hurriedly scooped up Undine.

"It is not a cooking utensil."
"Then what is it?"
"...She is a precious child."

Undine shivered again. Seeing that, Drake softened his expression just a little.

Kai checked the weight of the venison and wrote the numbers on a piece of parchment.
Load capacity, required number of meals, rehydration time, reproducibility. As he watched the lines increase, Drake peered over from the side.

"Hey. You aren't seriously planning to get by on just that, are you?"
"The efficiency is high."
"You need variety in flavor, too. Humans aren't gears."
"Nutritionally speaking—"
"We aren't gears."

Kai was silent for a moment.

"...I'll buy spices."
"Good."

Drake looked like he had won.
Aria stifled a laugh, and Elara was still observing the cross-section of the venison.
And so, the food problem was resolved for the time being, albeit with a stranger process than planned.

The next place they headed was the section for arms and adventure gear.

The atmosphere of the market changed.
The bright colors of fruit and cloth decreased, and in their place, the scent of iron, leather, and oil grew thick.
Ropes, pickaxes, pitons, leather gloves, and lanterns were lined up in the storefronts, and the footsteps of those walking the street echoed with a lower, heavier sound.

Drake's feet stopped there.

"—From here on, leave it to me."

There was a weight in his voice that hadn't been there before.

Drake picked up a rope from the storefront and pressed the twist of the fibers with the pads of his fingers.
He bent it, straightened it, and gave it a light snap near his ear.
There was no wasted motion in his movements, possessing a precision different from the calculations of Kai or Elara.

"No good. It's just for show. The hemp core is dead. If this rubs against a rock face, it'll snap in an instant."

The shopkeeper's smile stiffened.

"Now, sir. That's a popular item even in the royal capital—"
"A popular item and a reliable one are two different things."

Drake's finger pointed toward the back of the shop. A dust-covered bundle was shoved onto the bottom shelf.

"Show me that. The one in the back. The real deal, made by dwarves."

The shopkeeper grimaced for a split second but immediately retreated to the back. When he returned with the rope, Drake pressed, bent, and straightened the twist just as before, then nodded silently.

"This is it."

From then on, it was mostly a process of selection.

He checked the center of gravity of the pickaxe handles and the base of the blades, rejecting those that were too hard.
He verified the density of the metal and the bite of the tips for the pitons, and chose the lantern oil based on its viscosity and scent.
He pulled, twisted, and watched the recovery of the leather straps.
He flicked the fasteners with his fingernail and listened for any dullness in the sound.

Drake's fingers and ears navigated areas that theory could not reach.

Kai watched his hands while holding down the edge of his parchment. There were judgments he could leave to someone else. That fact allowed him to release a little of the tension that had remained deep in his shoulders.

"Hey, Kai."

Drake turned around.

"What are you looking at?"
"I was observing your selection criteria."
"Can you imitate it?"
"Not right now."
"Honesty is a virtue."

Drake snorted and slung the chosen rope over his shoulder.

"Tools, you see, they speak up before they break. If someone who can't hear that uses them, both the tool and the person will die."

Elara crossed her arms.

"An accumulation of empirical knowledge, is it? Interesting. If it could be theorized—"
"Don't."
"I haven't even said anything yet."
"Your face is saying it."

Aria gently touched the chosen rope. She traced the twist with her fingertips and applied a little pressure, as if to confirm its durability.

“If we do this, will we all be able to come back?”

Drake paused for a moment.

“I’m choosing this so that we can return.”

After those words, no one spoke immediately.
In the back of the shop, the sound of a hammer from the forge rang out once, and the scent of iron mingled with the cold wind.

That night, in Elara’s workshop, the travel gear was prepared.

On the desk, bags of dried venison, spices, rope, a pickaxe, pitons, and an oil lamp were lined up, and Kai’s small handwriting covered the parchment without a gap.
Elara’s tools occupied the remaining space as if it were only natural.

“That’s why you shouldn’t put that test specimen on top of the food bag.”
“It’s fine. It won’t explode yet.”
“Retract the word ‘yet’.”
“You’re so fussy.”
“In the management of explosives, being fussy is the bare minimum requirement.”

In the corner of the workshop, Mimi held the dried meat made by Undine in both hands, munching on it with her small teeth.
Every time she took a bite, her eyes went wide, and the interval between bites grew shorter and shorter.

“It’s delicious!”

After narrowing her eyes contentedly on Aria’s lap, Mimi looked up as if she had suddenly remembered something.

“...Big sister Aria. Next time, I want some fish.”

Kai’s pen stopped moving.

After a beat, he added a new item to the margin of the parchment.

“Seafood preservation test.”

Drake looked at it.

“Are you serious?”
“A request was made.”
“Don’t turn a child’s request into a research project.”
“It’s a demand survey.”

Aria smiled in a troubled way, and Mimi took another bite of the dried meat. Undine curled her transparent body at the edge of the table.

The lamp flame flickered.

The shadows of the five of them stretched across the workshop walls, crossing over papers covered in formulas, hanging gears, and the planetary model slowly rotating on the ceiling.
The scent of oil, dried meat, and cold iron mingled, and someone’s laughter lingered faintly before quietly fading away.

The window rattled.

The night breeze taps lightly against the wooden frame. Outside the workshop, the night of the royal capital has settled. The stone buildings overlap like black masses, the alleys are narrow, and the roofs are dark.

Within that, only the window of Ellara's workshop was glowing.

Beyond the thin glass, a shadow moves. Before long, that movement also grows small.

The wind passes through.

The light does not go out.

Further away, the line of the city walls melts into the night, and the roofs of the royal capital stretch out like black waves.
Above them, only the stars were twinkling without a sound.

To read the continuation/background

Click here for the beginning of the story, Episode 1
👉　Episode 1: The Observer Wakes Up in the Forest
Click here for work information and summaries
👉　For first-time readers | Please start "Re:write" from Episode 1

👉 Click here for a summary of the story of the novel "Re:write" so far.

Click here for my self-introduction article.
It also contains summaries of each work and links to magazines. 👇