Gods of the Autumn Harvest

Chapter II: Silver Forks and Bloodshot Eyes

"Try the chimera heart there, it's spiced," said Lord Veksys, pointing down the table.

"This..?" asked Nephistes. "I thought it an ornament, it's made of glass."

"Chimera hearts are crystal but melt in your mouth, they've soothed dozens of my ravenous appetites - a favorite of mine," he explained.

Nephistes picked one up off the tray and examined it. It was large enough he needed both hands to carry it, but light enough he could feasibly balance it on one. It was transparent, pulsing occasionally with flashing red streaks - it grew and shrunk with each pulse, dancing on his palms. Nephistes bore his teeth while looking for the easiest place to bite and struck quickly next it shrunk. He took a chunk out of it and it dissolved in his mouth before he could chew.

"It tastes of mint and cinnamon."

"To you," Lord Veksys added. "To me, it tastes of olives and creamed peas - interesting yours is such a powerful flavor."

"Powerful palate for my powerful boy," Phala reassured.

"Mother, please," he told her under his breath, making certain Veksys couldn't hear.

"Son, please; let me appreciate my growing boy," as Phala humorously matched his volume.

"Not in front of the Lord of Under-Soyl, mother!" Nephistes whimpered.
Nephistes and Phala were sat adjacent to Veksys at an egregiously large dining table: in another time, another eon, it might have sat his brothers and sisters - today, however, it sees more use than it has in a long time. The chandeliers offered more light than such physically inconsequential objects should in a room of this size, but the dining hall was evenly-lit and artificially bright. Despite its rare usage, it was neat, and clean, and obviously cared after by some of the countless metal servants of the Lord's creation. The table was home to dozens of silver goblets, plates, and familiar utensils; each plate was adorned with mountains of exotic foods, prepared by the souls of men who practiced culinary expertise in their living years - they were brought to the palace voluntarily and offered any named ingredient they chose, both for the current meal, and to take back to their Under-Soyl dwelling afterward.

"Are you enjoying the tastes?" Veksys asked politely.

"Oh, yes!" Nephistes admitted. He was currently engorging on a casserole of layered artichoke, spiced cheese, and a meat filling. "We don't feast often, up top."

"No, we don't," Phala agreed. "This is lovely, my Lord." She had been slowly eating a custard pie shined with sugar for ten minutes.

"Good, good." Veksys exclaimed. "I enjoy the company, I would only hope to make mine enjoyable likewise."

"You'd hardly need to entice us with food for that. You're your own honeyed treat," she said.

He smiled and looked at Nephistes. "And you, boy? Is my company compelling to a godling, sans food?"

"Oh, quite." Nephistes responded. "But it does help remove any doubts, doesn't it?"

"Aha, that's right - the meals used to be how I lulled my siblings into a more refined and considerate mind, back in those times; delicacies from Torthanfor, Odenvale, Caltory, and other countries around Soyl. Admittedly, I never had a tongue for cuisines from the other realms."

"It must help stay cultured on the happenings above, having so many fresh souls with stories every day," Nephistes said.

"Oh, I've little interest in the 'happenings' above," Lord Veksys claimed. "Too loud for me, too rancorous."

"You don't care for it all, then? When did you last see the other Dominions?"

"I am allowed to venture out as I please, not that I please often - it's been some hundred years, we've been busy here lately. It needs my attention."