Before the surge of Kafka’s Tertia,

Herr Grindenbask saw his life flash in front of him.

The rescue of the beautiful Marie,

His lost brother in the depths of the Grand Ocean,

The miraculous taste of the golden nut.

He closed his eyes, waiting for his end with dignity.

An infernal heat swept his face.

He felt his magnificent moustache singe.

“Ola! Herr Grindenbask, did you ask for me?”

The greatest explorer opened his eyes.

Like the Angels of forgotten tales,

Jarl the Bohemian was walking on purple flames.

Saving the Empire, but more than that: the greatest explorer as well!

The Tertia from Kafka was only ashes.

The Adventures of Herr Grindenbask, Vol.7: The Surge of Kafka.

Ra’fa’s belly was reaching its peak.

Nay would meet her sister in winter, was what the doctor said. It was not the apprentice Nay had seen before, but a curved, slanted old man who seemed crushed by his years. He never stayed long, and he smelled of alcohol.

She was a bit worried about it and asked her mother.

“Mum, the doctor smells like alcohol.”

To that, Ra’fa first praised her. “Good, you are learning. Still you are careless, you missed something important. His breath doesn’t smell like alcohol, only his body. It’s because of the disinfectant, not something he drinks.”

“Disinfectant?” Asked the little girl.

“What I use when you get hurt, the liquid that burns.”

Nay shivered. He was using this accursed thing? She would avoid him next time he came around.

To Nay’s scared expression, Ra’fa started laughing.

The first snow was falling. Nay, through the Legio’s school’s kitchen window, could see it pour down from the darkened sky. This was her second year seeing Gite covered in white. Her mother had not entered the kitchen since a long time now, Nay was the one who cooked for everyone in school. Ra’fa had judged her capable enough. It made some students jealous, as she was exempted from Tiër’s lessons to make time to cook, but no one complained. Her mother had taught her too well for people to complain. The first time, Nay had quite proudly astonished her friends when coming out of to the refectory on her own, pushing a cart with fuming plates. Everyone had adapted quickly.

Veridienne often told her that if she ever searched for a work opportunity, she would employ her. Fredere often teased her by calling her the “Grand Master of the Sacred Condiment”, in reference to a particular sauce she had created during her first week in the kitchen. She could never manage dozens of meals at first, but Ra’fa had been there to help, and now that her mother was staying the their stone house, she was capable of handling the work. She did have a helping hand through a young Jarulavien who barely spoke. He was called Jarafi and was of small build. He took care of buying the ingredients and repairs. He did not seem to like her much, probably annoyed having to follow the orders of such a younger child, but he stayed professional. Nay felt no reasons to complain about him to her father.

So, except for the falling snow, this was a usual early noon. Nay, a Yae wool scarf around her neck, was cooking. The piece of clothing was making her neck itchy, but she had promised Ra’fa she would wear it.

With time, the school kitchen had become her domain, she was perfectly autonomous there…when she had access to a stool to get up to the higher placed shelves.

She was humming an old tune. She did not remember where she heard it. Ra’fa talked when she cooked, Nay rather preferred to softly sing or whistle. She thought about her friends training with daggers in the cold. Since she was working in the kitchen, Tiër had switched bow training for daggers. As she was quite good on the subject already, she would not be left behind by the others.

Lost in her thoughts, she did not hear Marke’s unannounced arrival.

“Nay! Come!” He dictated. He was panting as if hunted by a pack of Byrns.

She looked at him questioningly. She was used to his unreasonable orders, but only during practice. Moreover, as far as she could remember, he had never stepped inside the school’s kitchen before.

“But, my soup…” She tried to protest.

“Raaah, always something to say! Don’t worry, Berth is coming to take care of it.”

The Sage-Brother Berth? Near her soup? She respected the teacher’s knowledge, but she had seen him try to make toast. The cupboard over the metallic heating plates was not fixed yet. She tried to retort something again but stopped as Marke followed his lack-luster reassurance with: “The baby is coming!”

Father and daughter were waiting inside the little stone house. He was walking in circles and she was sitting at the table. They could only hear what was going on in the bedroom next door.

Nay did not understand a word of the strange language Ra’fa and Manna sometimes spoke, but right now as Ra’fa was shouting in it, Nay was certain it didn’t mean nice things.

Marke almost jumped each time his Hani screamed.

Nay was weirdly calm, intrigued by the expressions on her father’s face. She was seeing some things there she had never seen before. He seemed more human than ever. His Rreico was crystal clear. Whenever Ra’fa screamed, he wanted to kick open the door like a Jivynn, but always held back at the last moment.

The birth took hours. The sun was setting when a woman Nay did not know opened the bedroom door. She was quite old and was wearing black gloves and clothes, that had to have been white sometime in the past.

“Wha’stit seems t’would be a girly. ‘Gratulations.”

Marke had not waited for her to finish her sentence before rushing inside, almost knocking her off.

Nay followed him but bowed her head in apology to the midwife.

Ra’fa was carrying a little thing in a large yellow towel. “Look Lisana, it’s your big sister Nay.”

Nay could not get away from the big blue eyes looking at her.

“Abu!” Said the little thing.

“She’s not crying?” Marke’s soft voice was full of rare tenderness.

“Not a peep.” Answered the mom. “Wouldn’t be the first time we have a child that doesn’t want to scream.”

He laughed.

“Can I touch her?” Nay asked.

“Of course!” Said both parents with one voice.

She got closer, held out her hand.

Her sister’s scream forced her to pull back and to put her hands on her ears.

“Great, our second child healed! I think I preferred them mute.” Said Ra’fa jokingly. Then tenderly: “She must be hungry.”

Marke came closer to Ra’fa and their child. Nay could finally look at something else than her sister’s eyes.

Her father had wet eyes.

So many feelings in her core, some contradictory to others, but still, all were perfectly harmonious. She had feared rejection but now she could not feel closer to her family. She was jealous of her father’s expression, still she was so happy it was there.

Her sister was beautiful.

The midwife coming back shattered the moment.

“L’il one, bring s’thing to crunch for your m’a.”

Nay looked at the old woman funnily before finally translating what she had said.

“You want me to bring food?”

“S’watti said.”

This had to mean yes.

She went back to the now closed school to get some leftovers, with luck some of her soup remained.

As she entered her kitchen, she froze in place. A greenish dark substance was splashed everywhere inside the room. She looked, aghast, at what had to have been her soup a long time ago, now transformed into a gelatinous wallpaper, ceiling, and floor.

To obtain this effect, her cooking pot had to have at least exploded, and as it was currently crushed inside the wall opposite to the stoves, it seemed like this was exactly what had happened. She stepped forward, not believing what she was seeing.

Each step she took was followed by a disgusting “Splortch”.

“Ah, Nay!” Said someone.

She turned around.

“Splortch.”

She saw Sage-Brother Berth enter the kitchen behind her.

“Splortch.” “Splortch.”

“I’m sorry, I had to take a leave to send the children off, and when I was done, this catastrophe happened. How is Ra’fa?”

“I..erm…how?... She is well. My sister as well…” Nay was too shocked to think.

“Good! Very good! Such happy news. Well, as it seems I have books to study so I shall leave you to it.” He had spoken fast and was already ready to flee.

“Stop right there.” Nay commanded. She was not shocked anymore, that emotion had been replaced with another.

She smiled to the teeth.

The teacher looked at her, uneasy.

“Nay, I am your teacher, you should talk to me respectfully…” He grimaced.

“I am not talking to you from my position as student, but as the replacement head cook of this school.”

“It is not a reason to be…” He tried.

“Shut up.” Her tone was freezing.

He closed his mouth. Sweat fell from his forehead.

“I have a faint suspicion that if Marke were to learn about what transpired here today, he would not be pleased. What did the students eat?” Her voice went up a notch. “How am I to cook for them in these conditions tomorrow? And you were going to leave!? Really.”

She took a moment to breathe. She saw how he had trembled as she had mentioned her father.

She continued with a calmer, softer, even less reassuring voice.

“As I am in a good mood, and that my father is unavailable right now, I shall not tell him about what happened here today.”

The old Sage sighed in relief.

“Nonetheless, it would be better if he didn’t see all this, or I would have to explain.”

A short silence.

Nay’s smile was gone, her cloud-like eyes were thunderous.

“SO, YOU WILL BE CLEANING THIS MESS UP!” She then added in a whisper: “Dear teacher”, before continuing with: “OR I’LL GET MY SWORD AND MAKE YOU A SAGE-SISTER.”

He looked offended.

“Oh! You are way too young to talk like this to one of your elders. You have no authority on what I have to or don’t…”

Nay did not interrupt him, but with no words spoken, went to take a big knife out of the hanging racks on the wall. It had been miraculously spared from the slimy apocalypse.

“…but it is perfectly normal that I shall be the one cleaning this up. It is my mistake to bear responsibility for…” The Sage-Brother knew first-hand how good the little girl was with blades.

Nay still did not look at him, she found a piece of bread and cheese in the cupboard, put them on a plate, and left the room.

The Sage-Brother, alone in the middle of a disaster area, sighed, then pulled back his sleeves.

“Nay?” Marke was looking at his daughter with a worried gaze.

“Yes?”

“Why is there…is that soup?... on your shoes?”

“Oh. No reason.” She smiled.

Her expression did not comfort the Legio at all. He focused on his new daughter instead. She was quite voraciously sucking on her mother’s teat.

“I really hope you won’t end like the two others. Sometimes, I think they are not really women but just shape-shifting banshees waiting for me to lower my guard so they can eat me…” He whispered to her.

“I’m sitting right in front of you, you know?” Ra’fa gave him a smile very similar to Nay’s.

He gulped loudly.

“With Aigue piment, he’d be delicious.” Added the little girl.

Ra’fa laughed. “Aigue piment, a good choice. I would recommend Cassis of Frem and Torrence spices.”

Marke stood up.

“All right, all right! This room is a woman-only one, I got it!” He picked up part of the bread and cheese Nay was carrying. “I’ll go check on the school, see if anything went awry after we left in a hurry”

“If you’re looking for Berth, he’s in the kitchen.” Nay had an evil look on her face.

“Erm…what? Him? In the kitchen? I asked him to check the lunch, not stay there the whole night? What is he still doing there?”

He picked up something in Nay’s eyes and grumbled.

“Damned banshees… should have listened to that gypsy woman’s prophecies, even if she wasn’t a Teller…”

“Hani…” Said the tall woman menacingly.

He fled hastily.

“Nay, what happened to my kitchen?” Asked Ra’fa seriously.

“Berth made a mess; he’s trying to clean up the evidence. I told him I wouldn’t tell him on dad if he washed everything up properly.”

“You just told Marke” Her mother countered.

“No, I only said where he could find the Sage-Brother.” Answered Nay diabolically.

“You’re worrying me sometimes. You talk like and act like an adult. But well, he asked for it. Don’t make a mess in my kitchen.”

“Bwah!” Made a little voice. Lisana had announced the end of her meal.

“Aww, you’re right Lisana, it’s not my kitchen. It is our kitchen, mine, and your sister’s. Maybe even yours in the future?”

Nay was marvelled by her little sister.

Every bit of free time she had she spent it with her, to the point she forgot some of her tasks.

Lisana was transfixed every time she crossed her older sister’s eyes, and she smiled every time she saw them.

“It’s your grey eyes, like clouds, she loves them.” Guessed Ra’fa, with a speck of jealousy in her voice.

Marke was not harsh on Nay’s forgetfulness, only adding a few rounds of practice to their already abnormal amount.

Nay would not have been able to do much more anyway, as like everyone else in her family, nights were short. Lisana was the quintessential paragon of calm during the day, but during the night, the story was quite different.

After two weeks, Ra’fa claimed back her kitchen.

Far from lowering Nay’s amount of work, it meant she had to go back to Tiër’s lessons.

And bow training was back.