As the world turned white, Maria let go of my hand. Her arms went around my torso, I rested a palm on her lower back, and together, we faced the light. As expected, the transformation was over in a moment.

  All the food had moved. Different fishes, sides, and salads were presented on serving trays atop the lines of tables, spread evenly for easy access by all those that would soon arrive. I took a step forward, then remembered something.

  “Oh!” I felt at my pocket in search of what I’d prepared earlier. When I found the parcel right where I left it, I grinned to myself and withdrew it, walking over to the closest fire.

  Maria trailed me, her curiosity burgeoning across our connection as I peeled back thin sheets to reveal the cuts of fish within. “Uhhhh, Fischer?”

  From my other pocket, I removed some thin sticks of bamboo. “What’s up?”

  “Why did you have bits of raw fish in your pocket, and where in Hestia’s hearth did you find silver leafs to wrap it in?”

  I laughed as I skewered the first bit of fish. “I thought we should try drying some fish out, and I didn’t start cooking it in case it got swept up in Peter’s transformation—I want it to be edible later, not today.”

  “And the silver leaf…?”

  “It’s not actually silver, though I get why you’d think so.” I balled up the foil contaminated by raw fish and threw it into the fire, then produced a fresh sheet I’d folded to fit in my back pocket. “I had the smiths make it. We called this aluminium foil where I come from—or aluminum foil if you’re American.” I gave an exaggerated shiver. “And you guys call me heretical. The things that country has done to the English language…”

  Knowing all too well that engaging with my commentary would only lead to regret, Maria plucked the thin sheet from my hands. “Wow. I didn’t know you could make metal so thin…”

  “Me either! Those smiths have seriously been producing magic while I’ve been busy, uh… leading?”

  “Yes, dear.” She rolled her eyes playfully and patted me on the shoulder. “Come on, oh great leader of these lands. Let’s go look at the food that wasn’t stored in your pocket for safekeeping...”

  I’d finished skewering all the fish, so I pressed the meatless ends into the sand, intent on letting them cook and dehydrate as slow as possible. We strode over to the feast, and as I gazed down at it, one of my brows rose of its own accord.

  Everything had an almost too-perfect look to it, like plastic props for use in a photo shoot. But the scents wafting over us told the truth of the matter; the food smelled delicious. Right in the center of the table, piled up high and containing so much chi that it glowed to my senses, was Maria’s fish that Peter had cooked.

  Every single part of it called out to me, and it was a genuine struggle to stop myself from walking forward and biting into one of the no-doubt delightful little chunks that all but begged me to do so. Thankfully, the guests were almost here. Following the light and already knowing what it meant, most of Tropica arrived on foot. The cultivators came first, of course, but the yet unascended weren’t far behind.

  The emotions coming from them were a solid wall of positivity that slammed into my core. I bathed it in, experiencing as much of it as I could. I had worried that when Lemon and her tree bro added their chi, the lightning essence might get amplified too much. I instinctively knew that a little would be fine, but what about a lot? The last thing Tropica needed was a bunch of Claws-like cultivators running around.

  Thankfully, Lemon and tree-bro’s addition of pure chi had done the opposite; they had neutralized the lightning aspect almost entirely; everyone, human and cultivator alike, could eat to their heart’s content.

  The last of them arrived, and their hunger started to swell, so I got Peter’s attention with a nod. He raised an eyebrow, asking if I was sure.

  “All you, mate,” I whispered. “This is your success.”

  A tiny little root shot from the ground and whipped me on the butt.

  “Yes, Lemon. I know we couldn’t have done it without you and—Wait! Why didn’t you come earlier? You’ve missed… I don’t even know where to begin.”

  Her canopy swayed with mirth. I see everything, she sent. To illustrate her point, hundreds of tiny roots sprouted, all waving at me.

  “Hang on, Lemon…” I gave her a conspiratorial look. “Have you been watching me? Is that the secret work you’ve been up to?”

  She nodded her entire trunk up and down so hard that a normal tree would have uprooted itself.

  As suspicious as humanly possible, I leaned closer and shielded my mouth with one hand, then stage-whispered, “Not in front of everyone, Lemon. Our forbidden love must remain discreet—for now.”

  “Do I need to be worried?” Maria asked, raising an eyebrow as I blew Lemon a kiss, which she caught with a branch and hugged tight to her chest.

  “I’m just teasing. You’re all I ever want or nee... actually, if Lemon works out how to dispense lemonade directly from her fruit… you could be in trouble. Or if she can learn to shoot lasers. That’d be super neat.”

  “Don’t give her any ideas. She might do it even if you’re joking.”

  “Uhhh, yeah, joking...” I shot Lemon a wink, which earned me a whap on the upper arm from Maria.

  Peter was describing each of the fish dishes now, along with the accompanying ingredients they’d been seasoned with. He was doing a wonderful job; I had no idea he was so apt at public speaking. There was a shift in the air as Peter reached the lightning-infused threadfin salmon that Maria had caught. At first it was gradual, but then it came all at once—their hunger grew to a fever pitch.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I wanted to preserve the flavor of the fish,” Peter said, his voice resonating against the sand. “I So the only seasonings you should be able to taste are beef tallow and mild herbs and spices. I’d suggest having it by itself, then slowly introducing more flavors if you feel comfortable doing so. The slices of lemon would be a good start.” He nodded at Lemon in recognition, who shook with delight, pulled a limb back, and launched a yellow blur his way.

  “Thank you,” Peter said, pocketing the fruit. “Now, after the citrus, there are a number of other condiments and reductions that I believe will pair well with it...”

  “When did he get so good at showmanship?” I whispered to Maria as Peter continued.

  “Shhhh!” Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she stared up into mine. “It’s been forever since I’ve heard someone talk that’s this charming.”

  Even though I knew she was joking, she offset the insult with a pulse of love through our connection, ensuring her words delivered no sting. I narrowed my gaze, but failed to hide the grin that tugged at the corner of my lip.

  “And that concludes my impromptu speech,” Peter said, shooting a glare at Danny when his burly friend tried to start an applause, then gesturing at me. “As our mostly friendly and always confusing leader would say, dig in!”

  Seeing no one else make the first move, I grabbed Maria’s hand and strode forward. Two plates, a handful of seconds, and a smattering of different dishes later, Maria and I got out of the way. Our passage encouraged at least a few people—their passage encouraged the rest. I smiled at two unascended humans, a woman and man, who made way for Snips, insisting that she go before them. As Snips blew happy bubbles, Rocky lifted her upward so she didn’t have to leap on the table, and she cheerily collected a bunch of different foods.

  Maria and I settled down in the sand, avoiding the many available chairs in favor of a quiet spot a dozen paces away. The position meant that only some of the tables would be able to see it; the food—and not me—would be the center of attention. Even as far as we were from the various places of cooking, the ground was warm, the heat of Rocky’s chi having radiated an astonishing distance. The crustacean in question approached, gesturing with a cigarette-holding claw to ask if they could join us.

  “Of course, mate. We aren’t hiding—just giving everyone some space.”

  He nodded his thanks and scuttled forward, making a show of smoothing a patch for Sergeant Snips to sit on. She blew thankful bubbles and took her rightful place on my right. Rocky sat on her other side, and together, all four of us looked at our plates.

  I had half a fillet of shore fish, one of the fire-roasted cichlids, and a few of the deep-fried chunks. I desperately wanted to start with the smaller fishes first. Wanted to work up to the threadfin-salmon morsels, which I suspected would be the best by far. But I lacked the self-control.

  At least I wasn’t alone; I smiled over at Snips and Rocky, whose cute little mouths—well, Snips’s cute little mouth and Rocky’s... ah, screw it. He has a cute mouth too. Their cute little mouths crunched on the breading, its surface hard enough that it sounded like they were biting into crackling. When they reached the soft flesh within, they both made happy noises, staring at one another in shared bliss.

  With much less bliss and a lot more amusement, Maria and I looked at one another too. Our eyes conveyed our thoughts without either of us needing to voice them, and after a long moment—and more than a few eyebrow waggles—we reached an agreement. With a piece of deep fried threadfin-salmon each, we tapped them together.

  “Cheers!” we both said, their crispy skins making an enticing sound as they collided. The fish was still warm beneath my fingers, and as I lifted it to my mouth, my mind conjured thousands of possible textures that the coating would possess.

  Every single one of them fell short.

  It was, bar none, the crispiest damned thing I had ever eaten. I expected something dense, but as the breadcrumbs had expanded, they’d become filled with tiny little pockets of air. I couldn’t hear anything else as my molars crunched through it. Even if I could hear, I wouldn’t have registered it—all of my attention was on the sensations occurring within my mouth.

  The fish was unbelievably fatty. I’d missed the filleting stage, so I had no clue. The coating had sealed it in, creating a watertight pocket that trapped all the juices. Like biting into a soup dumpling, fat and juice poured out, their heat rolling over my tongue and awareness both.

  There was a brief moment of calm, a window only noticeable because of my level of advancement, where the flavors of the fish had yet to register on my tastebuds. In that temporary silence, dozens of people—then what had to be everyone—bit down in a cacophony of crunches.

  Not a single person had been able to resist.

  I took great joy in that realization. For some of them, perhaps even most, this would be the first time they were going to experience chi-enhanced food. Despite deciding that we shouldn’t make them all ascend too quickly, something about this had felt... right. Having this feast and inviting them all had only been an impulse at first, and up until only a minute ago, I could have pulled the rug out from under the whole endeavor.

  But why would I?

  There was no part of me that thought this was a bad idea. Even with a brain full of wool, I could tell my judgement was unaffected. I smiled at myself, realizing that I was, as ever, getting lost in the proverbial sauce. I took a mental step back, once more focusing on my physical body. The warmth of the liquid coating the inside of my mouth leaped out at me, its chi and promise of incredible flavor demanding my attention.

  I was all too happy to oblige. The oils coated and clung to every surface possible, letting me appreciate the salmon first. Somewhat oceanic, it had a strong taste. This fish, served by itself, might only be appreciated by those that had previously exposed their palette to fishy goodness.

  But we hadn’t served it by itself. I chewed, the soft flesh providing a satisfying counterpoint to the crispy coating that became less and less prevalent with each bite, the juices taking over. Combined with the fish’s textures, they managed to pierce through the layer of oil.

  I wasn’t prepared for the absolute explosion of flavor. The tallow’s hearty, savory notes. The breadcrumbs’ rich nuttiness. And the subtle herbs and spices, including salt, its enhancement of the dish unmissable. These were the only ingredients other than the fish. Simple as they may be, they had combined to become something truly complex. Each element enjoyed a moment in the limelight before happily stepping back, making way for the others.

  When I popped another chunk into my mouth, chi tried to stream down toward my core, but I used its energy against itself, creating a little barrier to hold it in place. The bite must have taken only seconds for me to chew, but it felt like a blissful eternity, each second as enjoyable as the last. When I finally swallowed, it was like red-hot metal shot down my throat—sans the pain one would expect. Keeping it still for so long had made the essence antsy, and it raced to accomplish its purpose.

  To my utter surprise, some of it went upward. I let it go, part of my awareness tracking its passage as it flooded my head. When it rushed back down a moment later, I couldn’t contain my wonder. It had cleared the woolen clouds in my mind. Like a soothing balm on cracked skin, the sensation of its departure was so refreshing that I could cry. I’d not even been paying attention to the partial headache lingering within, but now that it was gone, I took a deep breath. As I exhaled, some essence escaped, the dish’s flavors returning to the forefront and robbing me of thought.

  When it finally fled, I sensed the outside world again—there was a storm approaching. My gaze darted around, not knowing where to look first. The storm wasn’t approaching at all. It was here.

  Pop!

  There were so many sources that I’d not found the first in time. The chi had come from just ahead of me, and as I assessed the formation of someone’s budding core, a wave of euphoria washed over me.

  Shock came through my connection to Maria and her eyes flew wide. Within a moment, she surmised what was about to occur. She sent me a questioning pulse, unwilling or unable to look away from the scene. I confirmed it with a pulse of my own—it was really happening.

  The initial pop had been like the first kernel of microwave popcorn to explode. It was a sign of many more to come. With our fingers clasped together, Maria and I witnessed the rest of the awakenings.

  Patreon.

  Discord.