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An Otherworldly Scholar - 14
🕑 Added 2023-06-07 22:00:33 +0000 UTCThe manor’s kitchen was a large space that could easily accommodate a fifteen member team. From the walls hung all kinds of pans, pots, and other utensils I couldn’t quite recognize. There was a metal stove, a stone oven, a large counter, and a water barrel. In the corner of the room there was a firewood basket. Everything was worn down and somewhat battered, but the kitchen was well supplied all things considered.
“I’ll prepare the food, you distract the little ones.” Ilya told Zaon. They must have been the ones who kept the orphanage going during Elincia’s absence. I felt sorry for them, taking care of a large group of children was a heavy burden for two barely pubescent kids.
“That will not be necessary.” I intervened, adopting my best educator’s voice; loud enough for everyone in the room to hear it while projecting authority without sounding bossy. “I think Miss Rosebud would appreciate it if we all worked together to prepare her a nice meal.”
I used Elincia’s last name on purpose, they seemed amused when I called her Miss Rosebud instead of Miss Elincia. The little ones giggled and we exchanged a complicit smile.
“Mister Clarke isn’t going to cook, surely.” Zaon stuttered. “You are a Scholar, sir.”
“Why not? Scholars are perfectly capable of cooking like anyone else.” I replied with a conciliatory smile as I washed my hands in the water basin. I missed modern plumbing but I doubted I could do anything about that in the short term.
“Mister Holst said cooking was a lowly task unworthy of an advanced class like a Scholar.” Ilya said as she opened a cupboard to retrieve a tall cooking pot almost her size.
“A self-respecting Scholar has to experiment with all sciences and techniques, including cooking.” I replied, grabbing the gigantic pot from Ilya’s hands and putting it onto the stove. Zaon, as usual, was fascinated with my behavior. Ilya on the other hand, seemed suspicious of me but kept silent and vigilant.
“All right!” I said, loudly clapping my hands. “Ilya is going to help you wash your hands while Zaon lights the stove. It’s forbidden to come close to the pot while the fire is lit.”
The kitchen stopped for a second and I felt the orphan’s brains trying to determine if I had enough authority to command them.
“I’ll go first!” Shu yelled as she walked with hesitant steps to the water basin, making her characteristic clacking sound against the floorboards. Not an instant elapsed when the rest of the orphans rushed into a messy line in front of the basin, leaving Shu almost in the last place. As always, she didn’t seem to worry.
“Remember to scrub a lot! When cooking your hands should be clean from germs otherwise you will get sick!” I said, feeling profoundly grateful to the harpy kid. No matter how good my intentions were or how deep my knowledge was, without the cooperation of the students I couldn’t do much. As they said, the difference between a madman and a prophet was that a prophet had followers.
“You truly are different from Mister Holst.” Zaon said as he grabbed the firewood and rekindled the fire.
“Thanks, Zaon. You are too kind.” I replied with an innocent grin that made the boy flush. I was not going to openly trash talk Holst in front of the orphans but Zaon had to understand Holst’s words weren’t absolute. With time, false teachings turned into shackles and I was worried Zaon couldn’t get rid of the presuppositions he harbored about commoners and nobles.
Preconceived notions were a hard weed to eradicate, their roots grew deeper the more time they remained untouched. Once again I was getting ahead of myself. First I had to cook a nice meal, then speak with Elincia, and only then find out if I could remain at the orphanage.
I found a cutting board and a nice knife and waited for the orphans to finish washing their hands.
“Alright people, please take the ingredient you chose and make two rows. Mister Clarke row and Ilya row.” I clapped sonorously once again. Forming rows was never as easy as it sounded. In a new classroom even the easiest of tasks had to be explained and demonstrated several times before kids could follow the instructions. This time, every orphan wanted to be in my row but after a minute of explaining and rearranging, I could form two similar lines.
“Ilya and I are going to clean, peel, and cut your ingredients. Then we are going to give them back to you on a plate and you will wait sitting on the table.” I explained the next step. “Without eating the ingredients!”
One by one, the orphans gave me their chosen ingredients. Potatoes, carrots, onions, handfuls of peas, barley and the occasional garlic. I cut a slice of squash that turned into small squares, then I cut half a cabbage and turned it into thin slices. The orphans were entranced by the speed at which I manipulated the knife.
Bachelor life came with its own perks.
“Remember not to eat the ingredients yet!” I threw a quick glance to the kitchen tables and various pairs of hands disappeared under it. As hungry as the kids were, I couldn’t speed things up without a pressure cooker. When we had all the ingredients ready, I passed to the second stage.
“I’m going to choose my ingredients now.” I announced walking to the pile of food I had unloaded. There were still sacks of beans, potatoes and squashes in the cart outside that needed to be stored. I pulled a smoked drumstick from the pile and cut it in small pieces, almost shredding it. Meanwhile, I asked Zaon to cut a slice of butter and threw it into the pot.
“I’m not sure this is a great idea.” Ilya voiced her concerns as she finished cutting the ingredients from her row. “How can you make soup with random ingredients? It’s going to taste foul.”
“That’s a possibility.” I admitted just to be met with a look of distrust. Ilya was undoubtedly a miniature version of Elincia. “Still, I think it’s going to taste good.”
I put the poultry in the pot and the butter started sizzling.
“Everyone who has garlic or onions please come forward.” I announced with a festive voice. Instantly, a small group of orphans approached me with their ingredients. One by one I raised them so they could put the ingredients in the pot. I stirred and a pleasant smell invaded the kitchen. I seasoned the mix with the gifted spices and let it turn brown.
“Zaon, would you fill it halfway with water?”
The water sizzled as the elf kid poured it into the pot. The scent subsided after a while but the orphans were enthralled with the process. I let it simmer for a while.
“Now the squash, the potatoes and the carrots!”
Another line of orphans formed in front of me, ready to pour their ingredients in the mix. Both snakefolk kids had chosen potatoes while the harpy girl had a sizable amount of squash. It seemed she had retracted from her initial pick. One by one, I lifted the younger orphans or helped the older ones to climb into the stool to pour their ingredients into the water.
It was my first time cooking barley so I poured it with the potatoes and added a bit more water. Then I put the lid on and waited. Meanwhile, Zaon set the table and Ilya gave me furtive glances when she thought I wasn’t looking. I opened the windows because the kitchen was getting too hot and I caught a shadow no taller than Zaon running around the corner of the manor.
A shy orphan? Zaon’s words previously that day had made me think that there were more than two older orphans in the orphanage. In my experience, the older the students were the harder it was to gain their trust. Small kids just assumed having an adult in charge was the natural order of things.
“Should I add more water?” Zaon asked.
The soup tasted good to me, even if it was light on salt, but the orphans might be used to stretching the meals as much as possible.
“I leave it to your own judgment.” I replied, stepping back from the stove.
“B-but sir, you are in charge. I-I couldn't… I’m just… Y-you…” Zaon’s stuttering intensified and the fear of making a mistake reflected in his eyes. I was starting to understand what was the overall situation in the orphanage. Holst probably was the kind of teacher who harshly punished mistakes, which, for a teacher, was a rookie mistake.
“Ilya, call when to add the greens.” The only kids who hadn’t poured their ingredients were the ones who had chosen cabbage and spinach. Just like Zaon, she wasn’t happy. However, she was capable of voicing her concerns.
“You are entrapping us.” Ilya retrated out of my range. “No matter what decision we choose, it is going to be the wrong one and you will hit us with a wooden rod.”
“I-Ilya, don’t say that to Mister Clarke.” Zaon rushed to help me, covering the gnome girl’s mouth with his hand.
“Physical punishment isn’t among my repertoire of tricks, Ilya.” I casually said, while ignoring the fact that physical punishment was the top item on my growing list of things to do to Holst if I ever got my hands on him.
“But you are a Scholar, like Holst.” Ilya replied.
Our discussion ended because all of a sudden the kitchen’s door slammed open, revealing an agitated half-elf with a big old cabbage under one arm and a loaf of stale rye bread in the other.
“Holst?!” Elincia almost yelled as she struggled to speak. There was a hint of fear in her eyes. The cabbage fell from her arms and rolled across the kitchen floor and the room fell in complete silence.
“Addressing a teacher without using ‘mister’ is disrespectful.” Shu pointed out, jumping off her stool and chasing the cabbage.
Elincia’s eyes jumped from the pile of food over the counter to me, then to the boiling pot and to the pile of food again. I let her have her time to process the situation.
“Can I have a word with you, Mister Clarke?” Elincia’s face was impenetrable but I could guess she was experiencing a wave of emotions that were hard to contain. My respect for her grew as she kept to herself whatever she was feeling.
“I would love to.” I said, passing the wooden spoon to the gnome girl. “You are in charge, Ilya.”
Comments
I Dare Korval
Ahh, they are having the famous "Little bit of this and a little bit of that" soup. Keep up the good work!
Ruathim
I'm loving this new story. I ended up binging the entire thing today! I look forward to the next installment.
