The "Necro-NOM-icon"
Even the dead love to eat
“Devin,” Ferris says, running into the bedroom. A faded leather book is gripped tightly in his hands. He holds the old book up to his other brother. “What’s this?”
Devin, perched on his bed, extends his arms. “Let me see it.” His brother places the book in his waiting palms.
The leather, though faded and worn in more places than he can count, still holds the pages together, and the silver lettering on its cover remains as bright as ever. He can’t help but smile at the book.
“Ah, the Necro-NOM-icon,” he hums wistfully. “This belongs to mother.”
“But what is it?” Ferris asks.
“It’s a cookbook. For the spirits, of course.”
Ferris frowns at the response. “The spirits? But aren’t they dead?”
“They are,” Devin nods, “but the White Beyond only grants them so many pleasures. Sometimes, all they really want is a good meal.”
“They can’t eat in the White Beyond?”
“They can, but hunger doesn’t exist. When you’re not hungry, you don’t want to eat, don’t you?”
Ferris purses his lips and tilts his head. “I guess not.”
“This cookbook holds popular recipes that the spirits often like to eat whenever they’re summoned. It’s a common courtesy to make them a meal.”
“Oh.”
Ferris stares as Devin opens the book and flips through the yellowing pages. It’s rather old. Actually, there’s an updated Necro-NOM-icon released only two years ago, but the version he holds now used to belong to his great-great-grandmother. When he was Ferris’ age, he remembers his mother making many meals for them from this cookbook for regular family meals. He doesn’t think there was one meal he had from this single book that he hated.
But that time feels a world away from him now, leaving within him a pang of longing to return to how he was then.
“Where did you find this?” he asks, briefly looking up from the aging pages.
“Behind a box on the bookshelf,” Ferris replies simply.
“Ah, so that’s where it got to.” Devin takes another moment to reminisce, then gently closes the cookbook and smiles at his brother. “Is there a meal you’d like to try? We can ask the cooks to make it for us.” He hands the book to Ferris, who flings through the pages with voracious speed, searching.
“Be careful,” Devin warns. “That thing is very old.”
No sooner does he finish speaking, Ferris pauses and points to a page. “This one.”
He turns the book so that Devin can see, keeping a single finger on the page to indicate which one he wants. He’s pointing to a desert, a cold delicacy called “ice cream”. Personally, he’s never had it. Mother always told him it’d take too much time for her to prepare, time she didn’t have.
The ingredients? Cream churned from kava milk, ice cubes, sugar - that, he knows, is in limited supply, what with the pause of the trading ships, although the petals from an acin flower1 could work as a substitute - and any sort of flavoring one wishes.
“If this is your first time making ice cream, it is suggested to use vanilla,” the book reads. “Other popular flavors are mint, orabo, lecis, and fire pepper, although these flavors are much more difficult to balance.”2
“I don’t know about this one,” Devin mutters.
“What?” Ferris asks with a small whine.
“It says to ‘prepare in a cold environment’,” Devin replies. “Korodon might be chilly but it’s not as cold as Gardall.”
“Can’t we freeze a room?” Ferris asks. “We have rooms!”
Devin lets out an unsure hum. “I’d have to ask-”
“Please, Devin!”
“I-” He pauses, staring long and hard at his brother’s pleading face. He doesn’t wish to bother Samuel with petty matters, and yet…
“Ah, alright. I’ll see what I can do.”
“YAY!” Ferris does a little happy dance around the bedroom, the book swinging in his arms.
“Ice cream, huh?” Samuel hums. “I had it once, but that was a long time ago.”
Devin nods. “I couldn’t just say no to him.”
“It’s alright. It’ll go quickly.”
Behind them, Devin can hear his brother flipping through the Necro-NOM-icon eagerly as they walk down one of the castle’s many hallways.
Eventually, Samuel waves to a nearby door. “In here. It’s cold and has all you’ll need, though the cold won’t last very long.”
“Thanks, Sam,” Devin grins.
“I’m happy to help.”
The three step into the room, which is cold like the prince said. The sharp chill makes the hairs on his arms and legs bristle momentarily. A table stands in its center, and atop it sits bowls, spoons, and all the ingredients they’ll need.
Ferris rushes towards the table, placing the cookbook down next to him and flicks through the pages once more to find the ice cream recipe.
“Energetic,” Samuel comments, closing the door behind them.
“He sure is,” Devin nods, also approaching the table.
“Here it is!” Ferris announces, slapping the page he was looking for with one hand. Devin skims the instructions, using a finger as his guide.
“Okay, Ferris, you ready?” he asks.
“Yep!” Ferris replies, bouncing on his toes.
“Alright. In a bowl, pour in the cream until it’s half full.”
He turns his head to watch Ferris wrestle the cork off the top of a jug of kava cream. With a pop, the cork flies free, making his brother stumble ever so slightly. Then, pulling an empty bowl close, he pours the thick white cream into it.
“Done,” he eventually says, righting the jug once more when he deems the bowl half full.
“Alright. Next, crush a couple of ice cubes in a mortar.”
There’s a mortar and pestle sitting next to a small bowl of medium-sized ice cubes, appearing freshly cut from their lack of signs of melting. Ferris throws four or five cubes into the mortar and begins to bang away at them, sending small chunks flying. Devin has to raise a hand to his face to shield himself.
“Hey, no- Ferris!”
Ferris stops his banging. “What?”
“That’s not how you do it,” Devin sighs, stepping towards him. “Here, let me.” Reluctantly, Ferris gives Devin the mortar and pestle. “Now, watch.” He bangs against the ice firmly, careful not to send chunks flying, swirling the pestle around in tight circles as he does so, slowly breaking down the cubes into a fine sparkling dust.
“You’re not trying to kill it,” he speaks again as he finishes, “you’re trying to grind it.” He picks up the mortar and tips its contents into the bowl full of cream, then holds it back out to his brother. “Want to try again?”
“Sure…” Ferris mutters, taking back the mortar from his older brother. He throws in another handful of ice cubes and does his best to follow what Devin showed him, though he still manages to send a speck or two flying through the air. When he finishes, he shows Devin the mortar.
“Better?” he is asked.
Devin nods with a small smile. “Much better.” He pours the ground ice into the bowl for his brother, then returns to the cookbook. “This is when we’re supposed to add the sugar and flavoring. We have the vanilla,” he gestures to the bundle of long bark-looking sticks resting next to a silver scraper, “and instead of sugar we’ll be using some acin petals as the sweetener.”
“Why not sugar?” Ferris asks.
“Because we don’t have a lot of sugar,” Devin replies simply. “We need to save it for other things. Now, get to tearing.”
Ferris lets out a sigh as he reaches to a second bowl full of red and blue circular petals. He plucks one of the petals from the bowl and rips it in half, releasing a sweet smell into the air. Devin pauses for a moment to take in the smell as his brother drops the two halves into the bowl of cream and ice.
While Ferris tears the flower petals, Devin reaches for the vanilla and scraper. First, he uses the scraper to split the long dark brown stick, revealing an inside full of black soil-looking mush. Then he runs the scraper down the length of the vanilla stick, dumping the mound of black specks onto the table. He does it again for the rest of the sticks in the bundle, about five in total. By the end of it, the air smells of sweet acin and scraped vanilla.
Devin slides the small pile of scraped vanilla into his hand, then dumps it into the bowl of cream, ice, and acin petals.
“Want to stir it?” Devin asks.
“Yes!” Ferris nods, instantly reaching for the wooden spoon provided for the two.
“Make sure to stir it well,” Devin reminds him.
“I know.”
“What do you need to do afterwards?” Samuel asks, the first time he’s spoken since they’ve started making the ice cream.
“Ah,” Devin turns back to the cookbook, “we stir it and… let it sit for a little while. The cold should thicken it up naturally.” He turns back to Ferris still stirring the mixture. “That looks good enough.”
“When will it be ready?” Ferris asks.
“Probably by the evening. We can come back after dinner to see how we did, okay?”
“So long…” Ferris sighs.
“No being said cooking would happen in an instant,” Devin replies, turning to Samuel once more. “This room will need to remain cold.”
“I’ll deal with it, don’t worry,” Samuel assures him.
“Ice cream?” Killian asks, his eyebrows rising.
“Yep!” Ferries beams. “Me and Devin made it ourselves!”
“It’s simple once you have the right temperature,” Devin nods, leading the way back to the room where he and Ferris put together the bowl of ice cream. His father and mother trail behind the brothers, their stomachs full of warm beef and a fruit salad.
“I didn’t realize you boys found my old Necro-NOM-icon,” their mother chuckles. “Ah, the memories. My mother made us so many dishes from that thing… It’s a shame I lost it for so long.”
“Well, now you know where it is,” Devin replies.
“Here! In here!” Ferris cries, rushing forward and waving to the room they had used. Without waiting for his family to catch up, the young boy ducks inside.
“Well, he sure is excited,” Killian laughs.
The rest of the small family enters the room, where they see the table in its center prepared with bowls and spoons, the ingredients from early since long been removed. Samuel must have had these dishes left here for them to use. The room itself is still cold, once again making his skin bristle as he stands inside of it.
“Devin!” Ferris calls him over, standing over the bowl of ice cream. “Is it ready?”
“Let me see,” Devin sighs, stepping forward. Ferris shows him the bowl, tilting it ever so slightly for his to see in to. The cream has certainly thickened, as per the cookbook’s outline, hardly moving with the tilt of the bowl, and emits a pleasingly sweet aroma. Acin petals stick out of the mixture that seems to glitter in the dim light of the room due to the ice crystals, and holding the bowl itself chills his fingers.
“Yep,” he nods, “it looks ready to me.” Ferris beams back at him, accomplishment alight in his eyes.
Devin reaches for the stack of bowls and a spoon, motioning for his brother to put the ice cream bowl back on the table. Using the spoon, Devin scoops out the ice cream as best he can and parses it out. The ice cream is more like a near-frozen soup, not exactly a solid but also not an easily-movable liquid, either, and he hesitates to call it an ooze.
He slides his parents a bowl and spoon each. “Here you go. We used acin instead of sugar for the sweetener.”
“I’ve always preferred acin,” his mother replies with a smile.
“Importing sugar was certainly expensive,” Killian nods.
Devin slides a bowl over to Ferris. “Here you go.” With the others served, Devin pours the rest of the ice cream into his own bowl.
“Mm!” Ferris exclaims next to him, already digging into his treat. His smile is one of pure bliss as he shovels more onto his spoon.
“Very good,” Killian comments. His mother nods next to him, also beaming with pride.
Devin finally takes his first ever bite. The vanilla mixed into the cream well, the milky flavor strong on his tongue. And as he shifts his jaw around he can feel the ice shards rub up against his teeth, giving it a grainy texture. And not to mention the acin; it’s almost as if they used regular sugar instead!
“You did a good job, Ferris,” Devin tells his brother.
“Anks!” his brother replies, his mouth full.
“Yes, quite wonderful,” their mother adds. “We should make more of this.”
“Later, darling,” Killian tells her lightly. “We don’t have that sort of time right now.”
If Ferris knew what he was talking about, he doesn’t show it, still happily munching away at his ice cream. For the other three, however, the mood shifts ever so slightly. Having the war constantly hanging over their heads makes for a dreary atmosphere.
And yet, while Ferris is old enough to understand it, he’s still young enough not to care too much about it. There’s no need to strip away his childish enjoyment so early, not while things are still calm on Korodon.
Sometimes he wishes to be his brother, caught up in a world distant from reality. To make sugary treats all cycle and simply live. But sadly his duty doesn’t allow for that. So he may as well try and preserve his brother’s world just a little longer.
Acin (ah-CHIN): An acin flower bush grows in two primary colors, blood red and sky blue. From a distance, the little flowers first look like berries. Every part of the bush is edible; the petals are sweet, the stems are full of sticky liquid, the leaves are often used as a mouth freshener, and other parts of the plant are used in healing salves and herd-based painkillers. Needless to say, they’re a popular plant to grow, and often used for garden arrangements.
Orabo (or-AH-bow): Orabo is a beloved fruit by wizards and used in a variety of dishes and drinks. They grow on vines in small clusters and appear as bright orange spheres. Their skins are smooth to the touch and clear, with the orangeness coming from its edible center. The seeds are bright white and can either be replanted or roasted.
Lecis (le-CHI-ss): This bright green oval fruit grows on trees. Farmers know when a lecis tree is ready for harvest when they begin falling off the branches. It’s tough green skin is tart can be scraped away to be used as flavoring, with its yellowish center full of tangy juice.