Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

At the ripe age of 86, the life of a jovial woman came to an end, leaving behind no regrets.

She passed away with a smile on her wizened and wrinkled face.

Her soul became one with the void, basking in its warm embrace.

Time was neither moving on nor standing still and in the span of seconds or centuries, the soul was moving on onto a next life.

A young girl stood in front of a stove, humming to herself as she stirred the large pot of lamb stew. The mouth-watering aroma of cooking meat mixed with spices like coriander, cardamom and even a wisp of cinnamon was drifting around the kitchen.

Bustling over to the oven, Banu checked on the heavenly smelling Pita bread before turning over the palm-sized sweet cakes baking in the pan beside the pot of stew.

The air in the room was sweltering hot but the girl didn’t even take notice of it, too used to it.

Not that the temperature was much different than Heliohapt in the midday sun.

A delicate, tanned hand swept a bone white lock of hair behind her ear to get it out of the way.

It was a little ironic that her hair colour in this new life was white. The pale locks reminded her of her hair before. Last time by the time she had reached her eighties, her hair had already turned completely white.

It was a connection, one looked upon with nostalgia and fondness, but Banu didn’t ponder on it too much.

It was a lifetime ago.

This was her second life and she would live it to the fullest and without regrets.

Resolutely, the girl went about taking the Pita bread out of the oven, juggling tasks by adding the last few spices to the stew along the way. Finally she put the last batch of sweet cakes on a tray and put them to the side, decorating them with some caramelized nuts and seeds.

Once finished, Banu put her hands on her hips and looked upon the outcome with pride.

Her passion had always been found in cooking, baking and just creating culinary wonders.

In a way she was glad for this strange new world. It offered her new recipes and cuisines to try her hand at. In exchange she would bring the wonders of earth’s fare to the people of this world.

Banu would corrupt them with pasta, curries and desserts, she would make sure of it.

Without skipping a beat, the grown woman in a girl’s body hoisted the pot with stew onto her hips and made her way to the dining room of the establishment.

Passing through hallways made of light stone, framed by billowing gauzy curtains, the girl entered the large, bustling dining room of the brothel.

She was welcomed with eager chatter and thrown in questions of what she had cooked for dinner today. 

Banu strode to the low table and set down the rather heavy pot with but a sigh of relief before she turned to the room and announced with a clear voice:

“Today we will serve spicy lamb stew, paired with Pita bread and sweet cakes for dessert. Enjoy your meal.”

With a small, dramatic bow to her aunties and sisters, Banu left the room to retrieve the rest of the dishes.

The cheering she heard from the dining room put an amused smile onto her face.

Growing up the second time had certainly been different then the first time around.

For one, Banu had been much more aware this time, not to mention leagues smarter and equipped with eighty plus years of life experience.

Her mother and all the aunties had called her a precocious little sweetheart.

It was surprisingly easy to be a kid again.

Banu suspected that her inner childish side was more than happy to come out again.

Her childhood was spent happily playing with the few other girls either born or adopted into the brothel or helping her aunties around the large house.

In contrary to popular belief, not everyone born or adopted into the brothel actually became a courtesan. There were plenty other jobs and positions one could take to work there without stepping a foot into the actual business brothels were famous for.

All of the flower children as they were called, were obligated to work for the brothel until the age of sixteen to help take the work load off the others and as a way to repay the brothel for its care.

Banu for one had known early on that she wanted to be a chef in this life as well. Her passion had only blossomed with the new, exotic dishes she had been eating growing up.

She had made her wish known when she was but a little girl and the slightly bemused chief of staff had told her to watch their cook work and help the old woman occasionally, probably testing a young Banu’s resolve.

The manager had been both surprised and pleased at Banu’s clearly visible talent and passion for the culinary arts and had installed her as their chef’s apprentice to learn from her.

This decision had satisfied everyone involved.

The brothel got a new chef at least until her sixteenth birthday and little Banu could learn more about the cuisine of Heliohapt, learning techniques and recipes all the way.

The years had flown by quite quickly from then on, blending into each other.

When Banu was ten, her mother fell ill.

The local doctors tried their best, giving Dinah all kinds of medicine or treatment that might help but nothing did.

Her condition deteriorated slowly but surely and everyone involved was confronted with the unmovable truth.

Dinah was dying.

At first, Banu was inconsolable. Her closest person in this life would soon vanish from this world. But as weeks and months passed and Banu spent as much time with her mother as possible, she came to peace about the inevitable end of her mother. Not least of all because the woman herself told her that she wished only the best for her daughter and that, if Banu promised to live freely and happily, she could pass on without any regrets.

Dinah passed away days after Banu’s twelfth birthday with a small, content smile on her face.

It took the reborn woman a couple of weeks to truly grief and accept her mother’s premature passing before she was back to a somewhat human state of mind instead of a ball made of sorrow, sadness and disbelief.

From then on, cooking and baking wasn’t just her passion anymore, it was a way of coping as well. It balanced the reincarnated soul when she sunk into a negative state of mind.

Stress baking was as good a way to cope as any.

And healthier than some other options out there.

Soon, Banu’s skills in the kitchen began to rival their elderly cook and the girl was officially installed as a working member of the staff, which included payment.

The unforeseen bonus of once more having her own money to spend was a luxury she had forgotten about.

Before the reborn woman even thought of going to the market, she made a mental list of what she would need as a travelling chef.

This had been her dream for a while now, travelling this new world and cooking all the while.

The next time she went to the market, she began her arduous journey of completing a set of cooking ware for herself, because as nice as the pots and pans in the brothel were, they weren’t hers.

She wanted, no needed her own cooking ware.

And so, her first real purchase was a soup ladle.

Over the following years, Banu acquired all the necessary parts of a cooking ware set, from pot to pan, ladle to measuring cup, a teapot, cutlery, cups and plates, a small assortment of spices, mortar and pestle.

Now Banu was once again fifteen, a mere day away from her sixteenth birthday.

As much as she loved her birth place, the reborn soul was looking forward to tomorrow, her day of departure, the journey already calling to her. 

In the blink of an eye, the night went by and the morning of her birthday greeted her.

Banu woke, well rested and anticipating the start of her journey. Only a handful of tasks stood between her and endless adventures.

Getting up, Banu readied herself for the day, although her clothes for the day differed from her normal attire of flowing robes and sandals, the typical wardrobe of Heliohapt’s inhabitants. Instead she wore trousers made from a sturdy fabric that went a little passed her knees, boots made of leather that were laced up at the sides, a white crop top with a turtle neck that was embroidered with geometric patterns typical for Heliohapt. Overtop she wore a flowing and billowing robe with a hood attached to protect herself from the sun.

Threading back her white hair into a thick braid, Banu looked at herself one last time in the small mirror, satisfied with what she saw.

She packed up the last of her possessions into her knapsack and left for the kitchens.

For one last time, she flitted through her territory, preparing porridge, slicing up fruits and making tea for her aunties and sisters. Finishing up breakfast, Banu added provisions to her supplies, packing pita bread, small bags of rice and wheat, some fruits and vegetables, a flask of oil and a pouch of herbs. She had already purchased spices and her cookware sat at the bottom of her bag.

With one last look at the kitchens, Banu took breakfast to the still empty dining room.

Deciding it was time to make her dramatic exit, the reborn soul silently left the brothel and climbed the walls that surrounded the establishment. Waiting for her family to wake, Banu watched the sun rise over the horizon, lighting up the white, crème and golden houses of Heliohapt with pink, lavender and orange, setting the desert beyond the city walls aflame.

Soon, the first sound of people waking was heard behind her.

She waited for the first noises of surprise that echoed down the hallway from the dining room, before standing up on the wall. Turning to face her childhood home, Banu quirked a smile and with a deep breath, she shouted:

“I am off to see the world! Take care and stay safe! See you all again someday!”

With her dramatic farewell taken care of and already hearing the surprised and enraged shrieks of her family, Banu turned her back to the brothel and stepped off the wall.

She landed on the other side in a near silent crouch.

Straightening, Banu walked down the streets of the city of her rebirth for the last time in probably quite a while.

Her smile was free and genuine, allowing the world to see her feelings of elation and excitement.

Only a short time later found Banu trudging through the desert surrounding the Capital of Heliohapt.

The sands were still alight in hues of red, orange and gold as the sun slowly hiked higher up into the sky. The horizon was still ablaze in the glorious colours of dawn.

The white-haired young woman carefully kept on her path north, crossing more and more desert in order to reach the shores of Heliohapt.

Her next destination were the countries further up north like Reim, Artemyra and Sasan.

If she travelled the caravan routes she had memorized, it would take Banu around ten days to get to the nearest port city by foot.

Soon the endless marching got tiring to Banu’s active mind and she went over all the different cities, cultures, people and recipes she would be encountering from now on.

Her excitement still burned in her like someone had lit a fire in her soul.

Banu would soon experience all the wonders of the world for herself, would see magic and miracles with her own eyes.

Magic.

Something novel and unique to this new world she lived in.

A giddy part of herself was drooling at the chance to see supernatural phenomena, maybe even learn some for herself.

Banu smiled wistfully, her caramel brown eyes far off.

That would truly be wonderful.

Up until now, Banu had only heard and read about the mysterious magicians, the Magi and the dungeon conquerors.

Rumours, stories and some sparse fairy tales had been her source of information, which left the grown woman in a girl’s body with a lot of answers and explanations to be desired.

The one consistency that went through all the different tales were the concept of rukh.

Rukh are the collective energy of the world, they were a mix between spirits, souls and energy.

The different types of Rukh were responsible for all the phenomena of the world.

Rukh of the sea caused waves and tides while the rukh in the air cause winds and storms.

Magoi is the energy generated by the rukh. It is a person’s magoi that allows them to perform magic by transmutating it into the natural phenomena wanted.

Like the rukh, the types of magic are different, depending on the type of rukh the magician is trying to manipulate.

There were eight great types of magic: Fire, Water, Light, Lightning, Wind, Sound, Power and Life; with some less common subtypes.

Though this was all the reliable information Banu had put together, and even that with a lot of rational conclusions and common sense.

The more intricate secrets of magic were coveted by those who could wield it, never gracing the normal populace with the marvels of magic or the knowledge of how to wield it.

One of Banu’s goals was to learn more about magic.

After all, mysteries were meant to be uncovered, weren’t they?

The sun wandered over the wide expanses of the sky, rising, reaching her highest peak and sinking again. The desert was bathed in golds, oranges, reds and purples.

 Then the heavens turned black, the moon illuminated the dunes in soft silvers and the stars were guiding the still resolutely marching young woman.

Only late into the evening hours did she stop for the night, her cloak keeping her warm and some fruit kept her stomach happy.

The blissful tides of sleep pulled her under soon.

The moon drifted across the horizon.

Before the first sunlight hit the sand, the girl woke up again and continued her long anticipated journey.

This routines continued for the days to come, until finally sand was replaced by meagre grassy plains and the solitude of the desert was replaced with the first bustle of people the nearer she came to the shores of Heliohapt.

Small villages and settlements began popping up and Banu got her first taste of cooking for customers.

She sat down besides the dirt road on a blanket and got out her cooking utensils. A small fireplace was built in no time at all and soon the tantalizing smell of curry drifted up and down the road.

Onions were chopped, ginger sliced and garlic pressed to a paste. Oil was heated and the already prepared ingredients soon sizzled in the pan.

Some vegetables were added to the mix and spices gave everything it’s unique touch.

Cumin, cardamom and coriander mingled with black pepper and turmeric.

In a small pot off the side, rice was cooking as well.

Occasionally stirring as not to burn her ingredients, Banu watched in silent amusement as people went past her just for their stomachs to growl at them like unsatisfied beasts.

Her very first customer was an older man, his farming tool used as a walking aid. He carefully folded his legs beneath him as he sat and watched her cook with curious eyes.

Once the curry was ready, Banu took out a wooden bowl and filled it with rice and curry, offering it to the old man with a sincere smile.

His knobbly hands took it carefully, looking at her once more before lifting the spoon to his mouth.

At the first bite, the elderly man practically melted.

His loud noises of appreciation soon pulled in other curious customers as well.

All the while a pleased (if slightly embarrassed by the moans) flush coloured Banu’s tan skin.

Bowl after bowl was filled and handed to her customers, quiet words of thanks and praises filled the air.

Never having offered a price or even mentioned payment, the girl was pleasantly surprised at her patrons honest and generous offers of thanks.

One by one, the customers left, some paying with bronze coins, some with silver, some even gave little trinkets to her.

The old man, her first customer, left last. He handed her one thin golden ring, bowed down to her and kissed her brows. His voice was raspy but held warmth as he spoke.

“You have a talent young one. Use it wisely and live happily. May the sun light your way.”

Banu’s caramel eyes widened slightly at his respects and she bowed her head in thanks.

“Thank you, I will. May the sun shine upon all your endeavours.”

The elderly man huffed an amused smile.

“Such a respectful one…”

With those parting words, he trailed off down the road as well.

The reborn soul was left to her thoughts, a pleasantly fuzzy feeling inside her as she scrubbed her pots and pans clean.

The golden ring the man left her shone in the sun as it sat on her left thumb.

Chapter Text

A day’s journey and two more cooking sessions later, Banu got her first glimpse of the ocean in this life.

It took her breath away.

The endless blue expanse painted a flat horizon, the sky only offset by a few shades of blue. Sea birds called out above her and a salty breeze played with her white locks.

The port city before her was moderate in size, rather quaint and built from yellow stone.

Colourful murals adorned the buildings, flat roofs were filled with potted plants, merchants mingled in the market together with people and their camels.

After catching sight of the market, Banu strode towards it with single-minded determination.

Her travelling food stall had been a success and conclusively she was low on ingredients.

She stocked up on pretty much everything besides spices. Rice, grains, fruit, vegetables, nuts and even a little bit of seafood was purchased.

Marching off with her bag filled to the brim, the reborn woman hummed happily to herself.

Her next destination was the docks. From here on, Banu needed to take a ship to get to Reim territory. She had high hopes for Reim and their cuisine, excited to learn about their cooking traditions, spices and food in general.

Sidestepping a heavily muscled dockworker, Banu began asking around if someone needed a cook in exchange for passage to Reim.

Her first few efforts were blown off, the captains not interested in a passenger that would only pay with food.

However, she got lucky on her eighth try.

Captain Anat was a heavyset woman with geometric tattoos running down both of her strong arms. The cutlass hanging off her belt suggested that she could back up her words with her fighting prowess.

However, it were her observant dark eyes that made her stand out to Banu.

To prove her skills, the reborn soul whipped out her cooking utensils and started off on lunch in the middle of the docks.

Under the watchful eyes of her hopefully soon to be captain and customer, Banu cooked.

Soon the tantalizing smell of sizzling fish in saffron sauce wafted through the wharf and the usual smell of salt, tar and rotten fish was blown away.

A side of couscous seasoned with honey, turmeric and pomegranate was served.

More and more curious sailors and dockworkers flocked around her and watched her cook.

Her ladle hit the pot one last time to get the sticky couscous off of it, the ringing sound startling some of her spectators out of their trance.

The first bowl naturally went to her potential employee, the curvy woman took the offered bowl with a pleased glint in her eyes.

After gesturing for the rest of her audience to from a line, the sailors practically fell all over themselves to get a bowl of the divine smelling cooking.

In the end, the crowd ended up sitting on the docks, eating their food together, a companionable atmosphere surrounding them as chatter and laughter rung through the air.

Chewing on a delicious bite of fish, Banu observed the good-natured gathering with pride and accomplishment in her heart.

Her food had brought all of those different people together.

Caramel eyes met the dark ones of captain Anat.

The woman smiled, her one gold tooth catching the light.

“You’re hired, girl. That was some fine food you made there. S’been a while since I’ve eaten that good. Get your things to the ship till sundown and don’t be late. We set sail with the stars.”

Travelling by ship was a novelty to Banu, never having set foot on one in her last life. The gentle rocking of the waves had put her to sleep fast that first night. Though the addition of an actual bed, well hammock, might have helped as well.

As much as she liked sleeping under the stars, a real bed was a luxury in comparison to the hard ground.

It had taken her the better part of a day to acclimate to the wonky sense of balance of the boat. One of the sailors had jokingly told her that she was finally developing sea legs.

Another one had thrown a bucket at his head and snapped to leave their cook alone lest he wanted to eat unappetizing gruel again.

Banu had laughed at their antics.

In general, she was getting along with the crew splendidly. They were a loud and rowdy bunch but their intentions were well-meaning.

And they were reined in by their exasperatedly amused captain.

The days flew by in a haze of waking, cooking, relishing the wonders of the ocean, cooking again and sleep.

Days turned into weeks.

Two and a half week later, the long awaited call of “land ho!” echoed from the crow’s nest.

Cheers broke out among the crew.

Even Banu indulged in a little happy dance. She was feeling childish, giddy with wonder and eager to set foot on land again.

Now that they had their destination in sight, the ship seemed to crawl across the waves at a snail’s pace.

They finally docked at the bay in the late afternoon, the sun hanging low in the sky and painting the sea a beautiful shade of orange.

The air tasted different here than it had at Heliohapt’s shore.

It was more humid and carried the scent of salt, greenery and ripe fruit with it.

The small port town they had docked at was made up of quaint crème coloured houses with maroon tiled roofs, olive trees growing around every corner. The people brought colour into the landscape with their dyed clothes in pastels and jewel tones, their wooden beads and jewellery made of precious metal.

The docks were especially vibrant, people from different corners of the world went about their business.

Merchants from Balbadd, entertainers from Sindria and artisans from Artmeyra, all of them mingling and melting together with the crowd. Banu even saw a guardsman from Sasan, the country notorious for its isolationist policies.

Behind her, the crew was bemoaning her departure, already mourning their bland food.

Banu smiled fondly, the motley crew had grown on her.

To celebrate their arrival at Reim, she decided to cook one last round of meals for them, and everyone else interested as well.

As soon as she whipped out her blanket to sit on, the crew erupted into cheers.

Embarrassing, the lot of them.

Just to spite them, she set up shop on the docks farther away from them.

Soon the aromatic scent of cooking meat filled the air. Spices like black pepper, dried chili flakes and shredded lemongrass were added to the sizzling beef steak. In another pan, Banu flipped the bread dough of the flat bread she was making. The dough was made from wholegrain flour, mixed with hints of nutmeg, cinnamon and neatly sliced ginger.

Around her cooking station, the eager crew members sat and waited patiently.

As the time went by, passer-by’s were lured in by the delicious fragrance of food as well.

Once she finished cooking, Banu started handing out bowl after bowl of food to the gluttonous crowd.

Compliments were thrown her way left and right. The crew saluted her with their plates, once again jokingly lamenting her parting ways with them.

The early evening was filled with laughter all around.

In the shade of a nearby olive tree, captain Anat sat and watched over her men, fond smile on her face.

Banu made her way over to her short-time captain, offered her a bowl of food and quietly said goodbye.

Anat’s dark eyes met hers with a spark in them.

“You’ll make it big someday with that talent of yours, girl. Your food’s practically magic.”

The older woman quirked a smile as she took a bite of the flat bread. 

“Go out into the world and do your thing, it’ll keep you happy and the people spoilt for your food.”

Here the captain laughed, once again amused at her own crew’s reluctance to let the talented girl go.

With her hand she made shooing motions, gold tooth glinting in the sun as the older woman grinned.

Filled with both gratitude and bashfulness at the compliments and encouraging words, Banu bowed to the captain and moved back to her work station, intent on cleaning up and finding a place to sleep.

Twilight was creeping in on the soft oranges and pinks of dusk, lanterns were being lit and a new wave of people moved through the docks, the nightlife slowly flourishing.

After washing up her used cooking utensils, Banu finally left the docks and made her way further into the city.

Finding a tavern was surprisingly easy. One just had to follow the sounds of raucous laughter and the strong odour of alcohol.

Banu wrinkled her nose at the smell, she had never been a fan of most alcoholic beverages, not in her last life and not now, preferring tea and fruit juice to anything else. She wasn’t keen on getting drunk with nasty tasting beer or drinks that practically burned her tastebuds. To her, the taste was more important that feeling buzzed and subsequently embarrassing herself in her drunken stupor.

Taking one last breath of fresh, clean air, Banu steeled herself and stepped into the tavern.

Noise swept over her, oil lamps lighting the rather cosy interior. Patrons were laughing, joking, telling tall tales and drinking cheerfully. The bartender was a middle-aged man with pronounced laugh lines and a beer belly.

The reborn soul approached the bar counter to ask for a room, sidestepping drunks left and right.

Once there, she had to yell for the barkeeper to even hear her over the general ruckus.

“Could I have a…!” She was interrupted by a patron bumping into her on his way to the door.

She tried again.

“I would like a roo…!” The table next to her erupted into cheers and hearty laughter.

The white-haired woman sighed in aggravation, hand pinching her nose to get rid of the approaching headache.

“A room for the night please!”

 The bartender gave her a thumbs up and moved to get closer.

“A single room for the night, miss?”

She nodded along. “Yes please, how much?”

The barkeeper scratched at his beard as he answered.

“That would be 12 Fulus.”

Banu blinked once in acknowledgement before she began rummaging in her money pouch.

She was glad that her customers from this evening’s cooking session had generously paid her with all kinds of coins, among them more than enough Fulus to cover her overnight’s stay.

Exchanging the money for her room key, the young woman meandered up the staircase the barkeep had shown her and located her door.

She stepped in and inspected the small but quaint room. The bed was rather narrow but seemed comfortable, a woven rug covered the wooden floor, linen curtains swayed in the warm breeze that drifted into the room. A wooden chest at the end of the bed was meant to hold her belongings but as she only planned to spend the night, Banu put her luggage on top of it.

The walls were made of light coloured stone, the surface smooth as the travelling chef trailed her fingertips over them. She stepped to the open window, absently wondering if those stone arched windows without any option to close them weren’t a hazard for thievery.

Deciding that she was too tired and in need of sleep if her thoughts were already that disjointed, Banu turned her back to the window.

Her travelling cloak fell to the floor in a pile.

She was asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The following days were spent touring the quaint port town, it was called Verdano as the helpful locals had informed her.

Their market was a wonder, filled with regional and international delicacies and curiosities. The vendors and merchants were welcoming and all too ready to share stories with her. Once more her bag of supplies was being restocked, it was becoming a routine Banu looked forward to.

A bag of noodles, tomatoes and a flask of olive oil found their way into her backpack.

Prying herself from a display of Mediterranean spices, Banu continued her tour of the town.

She had a goal in front of her now.

The reborn soul planned on finding an experienced chef of the Reiman cuisine and learn from him.

She might have known how to cook spaghetti in her life before, but Banu planned on truly mastering every cuisine she came across.

As she had already spent all her life growing up in Heliohapt and learnt the cooking traditions at their chef’s elbows, she was confident in her mastery over her homeland’s dishes.

And so, people were asked for any outstanding chefs around here or further inland of the empire.

Having collected the opinion of a lot of different people, the name most often mentioned was one Albero Octavius, master chef and owner of a prestigious restaurant in Reim’s capital Remano.

It was said that his food was even praised by the great priestess of Reim, Scheherazade herself.

Thoroughly intrigued and determined to at least try and ask for this outstanding man’s mentorship, Banu set her next course to Remano.

She left behind Verdano that evening and set out on the road leading to her goal, a long journey yet before her.

The landscape of Reim was completely different to the arid deserts and lush oases of Heliohapt that Banu was used to see throughout this new life.

Reim was still warm, the sun shining most of the time, but there was none of the overbearing heat that reflected off the desert dunes.

Instead, the country was covered in rolling hills, vineyards and fruit plantations as well as endless fields of wheat and vegetables. Olive trees and acacia’s spent shadow for the exhausted travellers on the roadside, little creeks offered water readily and the people were warm, exuberant and welcoming.

The further north and inland the white-haired woman trekked, the larger the settlements got.

Weeks after set out from Verdano, the first spires and towers of Remano appeared on the horizon.

A new fire of motivation ignited in Banu’s caramel eyes.

She would find her first teacher here, she would see to it.