OtH 1.10 - Reodan, AKA Miss Manners

And we are back to Aarick once again. Hope you enjoy his continued learning.

Fortunately, Reodan was not surprised at Aarick’s ignorance.

“Some of the lower ranked nobles won’t have bothered teaching you everything. If you proved a worthy investment, then they would have arranged for tutors to fill in any gaps. What implements do you feel most comfortable with?”

He picked up the fork, knife, soup spoon, one of the more regular metal spoons, and a pair of chopsticks.

“These all seem fairly familiar,” He said, then he pointed to the skewers. “The point of those seems obvious, but I don’t know what it is appropriate to use them on. Actually, that is my biggest problem for most of the utensils.”

He pointed to the weird tool that looked like a miniature metal ice scraper.

“I have no idea what that one even is.” He said.

“Ah, a food scraper.” Reodan replied. “It is used to gather and push food onto another implement.”

“Why not just use a knife?” he blurted out.

“In most places that is acceptable, but there are specific places where it would be seen as rude.”

Aarick’s stomach grumbled again, a loud gurgle escaping, leaving him to give an embarrassed smile.

“I will let you actually get to the food, in a moment, but I wanted to have you tell me what you thought each bit of food was, or your impressions of it, before you eat.”

He proceeded to do exactly that, giving a basic guess of what each meal was made of, and how it was likely spiced.

“Go ahead and eat, just use your best guess for how to you should use the utensils.”

He tore into the food. He started with the nigiri sushi first, using his chopsticks to place them on his plate. The delicate textures of warm raw fish over fragrant rice filled his mouth. The flavors of the fish varied from meaty, to fatty, to sweet. And there turned out to be no need for soy sauce. He had wondered at its absence, but it turned out each individual piece of sushi had been brushed with different sauces already.

He had gone to enough fancy parties that it wasn’t terribly difficult to use a knife and fork to dissect poultry (chicken?) wings and the tiny bird carcasses. Some small flatbread sandwiches seemed like obvious finger food, so he ate those with his bare hands.

The curries proved as hot as he feared they might, even with the rice. They were delicious, but his eyes teared up as he ate them.

He ate far more than he thought he should. Far more than he even thought he could.

Where the hell is all this food even going? I am eating more than should be possible. I have never been this hungry in my life. What the fuck is going on?

Despite what he might have thought about it, once he started, his body refused to be satiated. It demanded that he eat. It was a primal cry of need. There was something in the food that was quenching a thirst he didn’t know he even had.

Reodan just watched, an enigmatic smile on his face.

The food was amazing. Expertly prepared and with many different blends of spices. The spices were a mixture of familiar favorites: rosemary, cumin, cardamom, basil, cilantro, and so on, mixed with spices he had never encountered before.

By the time his body finally demanded no more, however. He was tired of eating. He was tired of chewing. His tongue, cheeks, and jaw hurt from the strain. His hands were cramping from holding the utensils.

Tiredly he said, “I don’t know what just happened. I have never been that hungry before. I may not remember everything, but I can tell you that much.”

“Lurona said that your soul seemed to be starving by the time she interrupted the ritual.”

Ha, another technically true statement. Just like my own. Of course, learning how to speak polite nothings is essential for any high society attendee. Just like knowing how to sound supportive without actually promising anything.

“She was kind enough to arrange for a feast of qi rich food. Having that degree of qi wrenched out of your body is extremely taxing.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “but where did all the food go? There is no where to fit all of it.”

Reodan frowned.

“I see you still don’t understand. A large percentage of the food was made of qi structures, your soul would have broken it down and absorbed it directly.

That makes absolutely no sense. Is qi matter or energy? Maybe it is more like wave-particle duality, and it can act like both? Hopefully I will actually be able to learn more about it soon.

“I’m not sure I actually understand how that works,” he prevaricated.

“Your tutors will help you deal with it further,” Reodan said.

Then Reodan began to break down how he had done with the meal, breaking down every time he had made a mistake, what implement he should have used instead, or how he had used it wrong.

The lecture extended into a lesson on what areas of The Empire each food was traditionally made in. Each of the utensils was also discussed. The utensils varied in specificity from the more general all-purpose tools like the knife and fork, to the ultra specific gravy spoon. It wasn’t for serving gravy; it was for scraping gravy off the surface of the plate. It turned out to be the oddly flat spoon with a textured surface he had noticed before.

How he held his elbows with various implements was critiqued. Their angle, height, and alignment with the rest of his body. Then his posture, bearing, and facial expressions were critiqued.

Enthusiastic enjoyment of the food what appropriate with close friends of schoolmates, but frowned upon in a formal dinner. There, a more sedate manner, where the attendees carefully broke down the contents of the food was appropriate. This showed the taste, and breeding, of each individual. Subtle compliments, or insults, of the flavors could be used to communicate favor or disdain of the host.

Ugh, this is even worse than back home. Well… other than the whole bigotry issue. I certainly got plenty of practice making ambiguous and potentially insulting comments at them. I was certainly more subtle than their thinly veiled disdain. When they bothered to veil it at all.

Of course, then scandals would hit and it seemed like half of them were getting pegged by a dominatrix in secret.

Oh well, human nature being what it is, getting away from politics was a pipe-dream. If I want to have any power or prestige in this new world, I will have to play at least some politics. Better to be a player than be played, I guess…

He heaved a sigh.

Reodan raised an eyebrow at him.

“Is my lecture boring you, sir?” He said.

Wow, he would be an amazing butler. That carried just the right amount of honest inquiry and veiled judgment for my failings.

“Not boring, no.” He replied. “I just wish I didn’t need to deal with so much politics. I wish I could just be honest and have others be the same. That I didn’t need to play elaborate games of words.”

I am not sure whether it is better or worse that I have some talent for it. If I was just truly awful, maybe I could get away with people writing me off as hopeless and not worth using as a pawn. Even if I were, however, being from another universe means that nobles would want to collect me. Novelty is probably a lot more valuable when you live for ridiculous lengths of time.

“Your desire for honesty does you credit, sir.” Reodan said with a nod. “However, you are no longer being protected by your parents. And, even though you remember your familial name, finding out who your family is would take a great deal of time.

Waiting to reestablish contact and arrange for transportation might take many years. If your parents are citizens of one of the other empires, it could take decades or more through diplomatic channels.

Lady Lurona said you expressed interest in formations, and wanted to use them to contact your family, if possible. Even with the time needed to learn them, that is likely to be the fastest method.

For now, you are Lady Lurona’s guest, and by extension, a guest of The Empire. And you will need to be prepared to enter society, as befits your rank. As a representative of your host, I will ensure you are properly trained.”

Reodan’s face softened for a moment, and he gave him a small smile.

“I understand that all of this is confusing, sir.” He said. “You don’t remember many things, and even the basics are scattered. However, despite your damaged soul, cultivation, and mind, you have already had some hints of memory slip through. The heavens reward those who push through the challenges they face.”

“Thank you,” he said quietly. “I don’t mean to complain, and I will do my best. Can I ask some questions?”

I never did get that chance to ask about The Empire, of food, or anything.

“Of course, sir.” He replied. “It is my duty and pleasure to serve.”

If he had only said it was his duty to serve… would that be a subtle insult? Ugh, hard to know if I am reading too much into this.

“Obviously, eating this amount of food was very unusual for me.” He said. “Do cultivators usually need more food, less food?”

Reodan made a small hum of thought before he replied.

“Technically, cultivators need less of any physical need as they grow in cultivation. Food, drink, breath, sleep, and so on. If a cultivator goes into extended meditation they may neglect food and drink for months, or years. However, cultivators still enjoy eating, just as mortals do. And food that is rich in qi is prized and often served at gatherings as a sign of status.

Since a cultivator’s body is more efficient as they grow in strength, they are able to eat more and have it converted quickly to usable energy. Providing an extravagant meal that is continually refreshed for cultivator guests is common in high society.

So, while it is fair to say that cultivators need food less, the truth is that they actually eat far more.”

That means I am absolutely missing something. There’s no way to sustain the population properly with just subsistence farming and with such a limited set of land available. And I was pretty sure that was true before I knew that cultivators actually eat to excess.

Maybe my guesses are off? Maybe the death rate for cultivators is really high, so the extravagance is part of the social arrangement. Well fed soldiers, perhaps?

It certainly doesn’t feel that way, but I am in a creche. Many of the people here wouldn’t even become strong enough to serve as warriors. At least, not if this theory is correct.

At this stage The Empire would simply be trying to create as many soldiers as possible…

That could potentially explain why The Empire, perhaps all of the empires, are so liberal about sexuality. Want to keep the warriors happy, so let them do as they like as long as they are protecting The Empire.

I would presume the nobility to be different, but it might be more a literalnoble warrior culture. The most powerful cultivators become nobles, if they aren’t already, so they can breed up the next generation stronger.

“What is the population of The Empire, and are all the empires about the same size?” Aarick asked after a moment.

“As far as I know,” Reodan answered slowly, “all of them are about the same… Diplomatic relations and knowledge of the other empires is carried out at the highest levels of The Empire. From what I understand, however, each of the God-Emperors is considered to be equals.

As for the population of The Empire… the last census was at least a few hundred years ago, so bear in mind this will be off a little.”

Reodan paused for moment, his eyes looked up at he pulled up the memory.

“I believe the number was 1.3 trillion.”