Solomon obediently walked into the kitchen to help. He immediately caught the scent of three distinct aromas: the charred skin of tomatoes on open flame, the juices from meat patties sizzling on a cast-iron skillet, and the earthy crispness of potatoes frying in oil. There was also the rich aroma of freshly melted butter and the sweet fragrance of mushrooms mixed with cream.
"Caroline—oh, it's you!" Kaecilius was juggling several pans when he looked up and realized it wasn't the blonde woman who had walked in. The elder sorcerer smiled warmly. "So, what do you think? She was totally surprised when she found out you'd be coming."
"She's very reserved, so Bayonetta and Jeanne pulled her aside for some girl talk. I think they'll have a bottle of wine finished before dinner. That's why I came to help." Solomon pointed at the blackened tomato on the gas burner. "It's perfect right now. Any longer and the juices will dry out."
"Oh!" Kaecilius finally reacted. He reached for the tomato with his bare hand—Solomon noted he hadn't cast any fire-resistance spells—and immediately hissed in pain. The tomato dropped from his hand, but just before it hit the floor, it floated midair. Its scorched skin peeled back, revealing the bright red flesh inside, as if lifted by invisible hands.
"No wonder Caroline says I just make a mess in the kitchen," Kaecilius said with a chuckle, shaking his hand. "Good thing you're here. Oh, that kid didn't come, did he?"
He was referring to Constantine.
The last time Solomon had visited, his Royal Guard had arrived after completing a mission to perform a standard security check of the premises before departing on their next assignment via anti-gravity hoverbike. Despite Constantine's efforts to remain concealed, his optical camouflage cloak wasn't foolproof—especially in a simple apartment layout. A couple of curious residents had spotted him standing silently outside the building. One even thought he was a modern art installation. After Solomon left, Kaecilius had to explain to several neighbors that the golden statue by his door wasn't permanent. It had cracked the tiles and blocked the hallway, and it took some effort to calm everyone down.
Now, hearing Solomon confirm Constantine hadn't come, Kaecilius relaxed a little. These were ordinary people. If Solomon had shown up in a gunship or with heavily armed escorts, it would've been disastrous for the low-profile life Kaecilius had built.
"In a few days, we're going to visit that old man. I suggest you show him what you're capable of," Kaecilius said as he flipped the meat patties in the pan. "I mean the power of the Immortal City, not just your own. He knows what you can do, but it's your leadership he needs to see. That's what he'll respect."
"Why should I do that?" Solomon didn't turn around, instead scrutinizing the fries just pulled from the oil. He noticed that Kaecilius had probably forgotten to wash the starch off beforehand—they were underwhelming. "You think that old man is going to hand me a gift for impressing him? When I tried to make a move on Sif, the guy practically struck from Scandinavia to North America with a single spell. I don't think following your advice is going to make him any more cordial."
"The fall of the Aesir is inevitable. Humanity will rise—that's destiny. You're the key figure in that transition. Show the Allfather you can walk the path the Aesir couldn't. You don't realize how many times he's tried to convince the Ancient One through me that he'd rather have you as a son. Otherwise, he wouldn't have suggested a marriage alliance. That kind of pride doesn't bow easily," Kaecilius said seriously. "I heard you've been reinforcing the Sanctum's dungeons. If you're ready for that position, then act like it."
"But it still feels like a provocation to me."
"Not while Frigga is still around." Kaecilius leaned in, lowering his voice. "I noticed something odd in the supply requests she sent Kamar-Taj—lots of rare alchemical materials. Add in the Vanir's prophetic magic, and I suspect she's stalling for time through alternative means. The closer we get to the end, the clearer the prophecies will become. Something terrifying, something completely unforeseen, or something they absolutely can't accept—Frigga must've seen it. Otherwise, the Allfather would never accept such an unreliable form of life extension."
"You mean…" Solomon trailed off as the woman in the apron reappeared, peeking into the kitchen like she didn't trust what was going on inside. Kaecilius immediately broke off the topic, putting on a wide smile and presenting their progress. Solomon, equally in sync, discreetly hid the terrible fries and the sea bass buried in a mountain of salt inside the oven. Once Bayonetta and Jeanne arrived, and Ms. Jacob—still suspicious and sniffing around—was lured away again, Solomon quickly retrieved the failed dishes from the oven.
Kaecilius cleared his throat with exaggerated flair. "If the Allfather believes you can alter certain parts of the prophecy, we'll finally understand their motives," he said. "That's why I suggest you spend the next few days brushing up on the art of negotiation."
"But I think it's far more likely the old man will try to skewer the helicarrier with Gungnir," Solomon replied seriously. "I'm not joking. Unless I test its lightning resistance first, I won't even bring the helicarrier near him. I refuse to waste my people's lives in meaningless displays. If they have to die, they must die with purpose—not to win the approval of an old man who's going to die anyway. No matter what the future holds, the Aesir's fate is sealed. And if it's not, I'll push them into their downfall myself."
A long silence settled over the kitchen—twenty seconds where only the sizzle of patties and bubbling oil could be heard. Eventually, the oven dinged. Kaecilius broke the silence.
"Alright. I apologize," he said. "I didn't think you valued their lives that much."
"I value everyone's life, Kaecilius. Even if I'm the architect of horrifying massacres, I still believe that. The only difference between a commoner and a mystic is how much they can contribute to humanity. Nothing else. The brave are more valuable than the cowardly. The loyal deserve more respect than traitors." Solomon shook his head. "But let's drop it. The turkey's done. Time to let it rest."
"Hey, boys!" Ms. Jacob poked her head in awkwardly. "I heard the oven ding! Need any help?"
"Nope, we got it!" Solomon replied quickly.
Kaecilius nodded in agreement, "That's right! Dinner's almost ready!"
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