“Eccentricities are just part of the norm when you live a long life. Life gets boring and unbearable without any past your sixth century or so.” - Saying attributed to the Silver Maiden.

“So… You’re the real Silver Maiden.”

“Yup.”

“The First Unliving.”

“Uh-huh.”

“One of the founders of Paradise.”

“The very same.”

“So you’ve lived… Eleven centuries?” Cal probed, her doubt long put to rest since she had wondered why the young woman had mana that just felt ancient to her senses.

“That’s what most guessed, but no, twelve and a half centuries now.” Replied Aideen with a smile. “I attribute my continued sanity to delightful company and good food.”

“Don’t forget the tons of booze, lass!” Chimed in Martha with a laugh.

“Hey now, one’s got to have some vice to blow off in life. We have too long a time to live to be stuck-up twits with a pole up their asses.” Added Hans, as he joined in the laughter.

“Huh.” Cal just said.

“All good, dearie?”

“It’s fine. Just taking a moment to process that I’m sitting for lunch with a couple of living legends in the flesh.” Cal replied. “Got to admit that neither of you look or sound much like the bards tell it.”

“Hah! It’d be rare to find even one song out of a hundred sung by bards that’s either not horribly exaggerated or complete fiction.” Aideen answered. “You do not seem that surprised though?”

“I’m just processing that my dad’s tales might be truer than I thought. You’re not far off from how he described the Silver Maiden. Always thought those were just tall tales pulled out on a fancy.”

“Your dad? Let me guess… Hmm…” Aideen said, her brows frowned in thought. “Gimme a hand here, Hans, my memory’s not been the best after all the centuries.”

“She looks a bit like Calais, especially the eyes.” Said Hans. “And her name is the same, just the female spelling instead.”

“How did I not see it earlier!?” Said Aideen, as she exaggeratedly slapped a fist into her palm. “Calais Edrunviel’s your father?”

“He is, yes. I take it his stories about having fought alongside you are real then.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it, Lass.” Aideen smirked, her grin widened as she continued on. “Did he not mention that we used to be on more intimate terms with one another?”

“Huh.”

“You know, In the sheets, Danced the Horizontal Lambada, the works. I’m pretty sure he lost his virginity to me even.” By now Aideen’s grin threatened to reach her ears. “He was such a shy, young boy back then…”

“Hah! Speak for your cradle-robbing self, you old hag!” Teased Hans from the side.

“Oh, C’mon, he was over a hundred, and I was barely a couple centuries older at that time!” Retorted Aideen. “All fine, lass? Might be a bit much to spring on someone I guess.”

“Oh, nothing. Just surprised dad didn’t boast of it to anyone. I would have in his stead.” Cal said. “Sure does bring into perspective how much he’s been around in his life though.”

“You know, that’s something we could fix later tonight.” Said the Silver Maiden, as she gave Cal a suggestive wink, her tone of voice was not to be taken seriously however. “Just kidding. Cal would yell my ears off from wherever he is if he found out I banged his daughter of all things.”

“Wouldn’t matter much. I’m not sexually inclined anyway.” Cal said with a straight face.

“Oh, no drive or desire for it huh? More common than you think, though somewhat rare in one your age.”

“Never had any to begin with, I think. I tried things out some when I was younger, and do sometimes find women attractive, but the act itself just… didn’t click I guess? Rather have a good meal or a good fight instead.”

“That’s fine, your life’s yours to live the way you want, lass.” Aideen said, serious this time. “And don’t let any ass out there tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks. So… how is it like? To live for so long, and to know death isn’t coming to fetch anytime soon?” Cal asked and changed the topic.

“If you have something to put your mind to? Surprisingly pleasant and productive. Those who can’t often chose to end themselves when they get tired of living though. Highest cause of death among my kind, I tell you.” Aideen said, somewhat somber this time. “That’s also why we have so much new things coming out of Paradise though, everyone just putting their mind and creating things that did not exist or was never thought possible before.” She added in a brighter mood.

“Or for some, they hone their craft to perfection and take it beyond.” Added Aideen as the door to the eatery opened. “You will see soon.”

What came out of the eatery were two young therian-hybrids women - their lineages were pretty far mixed that it’s hard to tell their exact ancestry, other than the obvious traces of a bear therian they have in common -, one who cradled a large bowl of salad comprised of various greens, cubes of what looked like bread fried in butter, cuts of cold meats, and bits of cheese curd, with a transparent dressing that gave off a vinegary smell on it, while the other pushed a covered cart. Behind the two young therians, followed a relatively short - though he still easily topped over two meters tall - bear therian with a grand, luxurious beard that reached his chest, dressed in all whites, who wore an apron and a tall chef’s hat.

“Let me introduce you, here is Magnus Bronzmeier. Fire Archmagus, and the best damned chef in western Alcidea.” Aideen said, her hand pointed at the Dwarf-Therian hybrid. “Also one of us long-lifers of course.”

“Charmed.” Replied Magnus, as he gave a curt bow. With one large paw-like hand he gestured, and the waitress with the salad bowl served the prepared dish into four equal portions, while the other lifted the cover of the cart, which revealed a large chunk of fatty meat that was oddly rather dark in color. “For today’s special I have prepared this Sixty-day aged Venison loin, marinated in sour cream and spices, for your pleasure.”

With one deft flick of the arm, the chunk of venison was sent aloft, where it was immediately enveloped in flames. The flames changed colors constantly, sometimes red, sometimes orange, sometimes blue, as they rotated around the stationary airborne piece of meat, the noise made as the fat sizzled whetted the appetites of the onlookers. Less than five minutes later, Magnus pulled out a wooden cutting board out of the cart, and allowed the now well-seared hunk of meat to land on it, before he pulled out a kitchen knife the size of a short sword out of his waist and smoothly turned the meat into sixteen evenly-sized slices in a quick motion, and deftly divided the pieces into prepared, warmed plates of stone, before he lightly sprinkled some powder from a pouch over them.

“Please Enjoy.” He said as he distributed the plates of meat with a flourish.

Cal’s mouth watered as the fragrant aroma of roasted meat assaulted her nose. The meat on the plate showed a perfectly charred exterior, while the insides remained a beautiful pink shade. The knife glided through the meat like it was a hot knife through butter, with nary any resistance, and when she picked up a piece with her fork, it burst with juices, which dripped even as she raised the morsel to her mouth.

Cal forgot everything and just moaned in satisfaction the instant the meat entered her mouth and literally melted on her tongue, and flooded it with a strong, gamey flavor kept perfectly in balance by the light sourness of the marinade and the pungent spices in it.