The shopkeeper had included some jerky that, while not as good as Arek’s, was still decent. It was dry, but it still had some flavor. Some dried pepper had been rubbed on the outside of the meat, which helped greatly in breaking up the monotonous meal. Unfortunately, the cheese was significantly less palatable.

“This tastes like an armpit,” Ming said, gagging. “Arek, can’t you make some cheese?”

“I don’t know a recipe for cheese. And no, I still don’t have any good ingredients. Unless you’d like some fresh herbs to season your meal with?”

“I’m not that desperate yet,” Ming said with a dramatic sigh.

Belmont and Malissa were uncharacteristically silent. Both of them seemed to be lost in their own worlds. The group finished their meal silently and headed to bed a short while later, with Arek taking the first watch.

Several hours later, Arek handed off the watch to Belmont, who looked as pensive as he had during dinner. The man was clearly thinking something over, but he shook his head when Arek sent him an inquisitive glance. The orc didn’t press and headed to his tent, laying down in his bedroll and falling asleep.

Arek awoke before the sun had risen. He rose from his sleep, quickly stuffing the thin bedroll into his bag before stepping outside.

He was unsurprised to find Malissa already awake and doing push-ups. Arek joined her without a word. They exercised until the sun had risen, alternating between push-ups, jogging around the camp, and crunches.

By the time they finished, both of them were breathing heavily. Malissa looked to be a bit worse for the wear, but it wasn’t by as much as it once had been. She wiped the sweat from her brow and pulled out her water flask. She splashed some of it over her face.

“How did you decide you wanted to become a chef?” She asked, breaking the still morning.

Arek didn’t respond immidiately. He considered her question for several moments before he opened his mouth.

“It wasn’t a single moment,” Arek replied. “I first considered it when my adventuring group was traveling through a small hamlet. An old man whose name I never learned was cooking food for the people that were passing through.”

“And it was so good that it made you want to become a chef?” Malissa guessed.

“Not at all,” Arek replied. “It was average. Maybe even below average.”

Malissa gave Arek a confused frown.

“So why did it make you want to become a chef?”

“He served the food for free, with no desire for payment or anything in return,” Arek said, a small smile on his face. “He drew great joy in nothing but giving his labor to others. It wasn’t the food that resonated with me. It was him. I was in a dark place at the time, and that was the first taste of kindness I’d felt in years.”

“If it was just the kindness, why become a chef? There are a lot of ways to help people. Besides, you don’t cook for free,” Malissa pointed out. She sat down on the ground and Arek joined her.

“That was just the first part,” Arek said. “It wasn’t until a year later that I met a roaming chef. I’d already left my adventuring party by then, and I was roaming the other end of the Bludon Empire as a warrior for hire. The chef invited me to his camp and made me a meal.”

Arek trailed off, his eyes glazing over as his mind drifted to the past.

“And what a meal it was,” the orc said with a dreamy sigh. “That was my first experience with how food could change someone’s life. It made me happy. I couldn’t describe the feeling, but it was the greatest one in the world.”

“And then you became a chef? Did you apprentice with him?” Malissa asked.

“Yes and no,” Arek replied, giving her a half shrug. “I decided I wanted to learn how to cook. I asked him to teach me a few recipes, which he agreed to. He gave me a book of recipes and told me to experiment. I spent the next ten years roaming the edges of the empire, learning everything I could. I never truly decided to become a chef. I just realized it had happened once it was already over.”

“Oh,” Malissa said, looking at the ground with a disappointed frown. “I was hoping there was some sort of epiphany.”

“That would make it easier, wouldn’t it?” Arek asked. “But I’m afraid there wasn’t for me. I’m sure it happens to some people, but I wouldn’t count on it.”

“So how do you know if you’re on the right path?” Malissa asked, her voice low and pained. “Life shouldn’t feel like I’m a leaf in the river! I want to have the passion you have for cooking, or the love that Ming has for food. Hells, I’d even take Belmont’s paranoia over… this. I don’t know what I am, Arek. I wake up every morning to train and become a better adventurer, but I don’t even know if I want to be an adventurer!”

“You’re asking the orc that was literally made, not born,” Arek said, a smile flickering across his mouth. “I never had a name in my orc tribe. Vaugh-Arek was given to me by Vell, along with the basis of my personality. I didn’t originally choose this life.”

“Oh. I didn’t –”

“But,” Arek continued, “I chose what came after that. It just took me a few years to get around to it. There’s no way to know if you’re on the right path, Malissa. Not as far as I know, anyways. However, whatever you do should bring you joy, in one way or another. If you awake in the morning with no desire to see the rest of the day, then you have already died.”