Day: 3661

Days Left: 1819

Lives Saved: 20

The past few hours had been overwhelming for Oscar. Just yesterday he was still in The Eternal Abyss, an ordinary day, or as much as it could be with the tensions outside the walls. And then it was all a blur, memories returning of Prince Osmond, and then hearing his name called out for release. As soon as Oscar and the others rose on the platform into the portal, they were all hauled away from each other into separate rooms; Oscar tried to fight back, hearing the four children's screams, how confused and terrified they must be after so many years in The Eternal Abyss to be in this strange and new world.

After sleeping the night in a simple yet comfortable room, Oscar was taken to be washed and groomed, made pretty and presentable before being sat at a table with sweet treats and tea with flowers blooming in the cups. Fortunately, Henry had prepared Oscar what entailed on a prisoner's release, how there was an auction people could win to talk to him. Despite this preparation, Oscar was a snivelling and sobbing mess, recalling how Alfreda had dropped from the platform, no longer free like him, how selfish he was for leaving everyone during the attack. He had no idea if anyone was safe, if The Warren was overtaken and all his friends dead or still imprisoned or on the run; he didn't even get to say goodbye properly. This wasn't how he wanted to leave. 

I had to leave. I had to leave. I had to leave.

The auction sold off three sessions with Oscar, Henry had explained that usually it was just to talk but sometimes it was activity based and as Henry had predicted, all three auction winners wanted Oscar to cook for them. A portable kitchen station was wheeled into the ornate room, and Oscar held his breath seeing the advanced technology, how chrome and sheen everyone was like it was more of a spaceship than cooking appliances. And then there were the ingredients, the cacophony of smells that invaded Oscar's nose was overwhelming, an attack on the senses. They supplied any kind of fruit and vegetable, every spice, herb, and meat that Oscar could imagine, eggs, baked bread, different flavours of milk and butter. Oscar stared at the abundance of food, having only had memories of eating heated up packets of sludge that he bulked up with abyss plant and tree bark. Out of habit, he mentally calculated how many people this would feed and for how many days, and yet he was tasked only serving a five course meal for three people.

Oscar had hoped more time to prepare by himself, however the three auction winners were invited into the room. One by one they were introduced, from least important, an incredibly rich merchant to a prince second in line to the throne. Though Oscar had no memories of it, he had the knowledge of how to speak to nobility and royalty correctly, from his previous self being Princess Alfreda's personal chef and so he only just sailed through the social aspect, his nerves of his friends' fates still weighing heavily on his mind.

Apparently, all three auction winners were not only interested in eating Oscar's food but also watching him cook. The prince and the viscountess were mostly interested in the novelty of it, however the merchant was intrigued by Oscar's process and his probing questions suggested that he was eager for Oscar to work for him. Oscar was tempted, especially after hearing the salary, but was absolutely repulsed when he heard the merchant's plans, wanting to use Oscar's bulking method to use less ingredients for his food products that he manufactured but selling it for the exact same price to increase his greedy profit margins. And then there was the other proposal of Oscar's face being plastered on the packaging, an exclusive to the wealthy and nobility who were in the know of The Eternal Abyss's true workings; the viscountess expressed delight in the idea, already giving an offer to the merchant despite Oscar not having yet accepted the job.

Soup was the first course by tradition. Oscar was planning on doing something more light of a broth to start with to not upset the palette but the prince suggested mushroom soup which the other two agreed. Oscar winced, looking down at the variety of mushrooms supplied, and steering clear of the ones that resembled the toadstool monster his mask transformed him into, so he opted for enoki, the mushroom with long stems and small round heads that did not make him recoil as much compared to the others. Whilst Oscar was preparing the soup, he asked for any recommendations for the rest of the courses and regretted it instantly as for the fish course the viscountess asked for octopus.

"Oh, we should have had that for the soup!" She sighed.

"I am afraid, Your Grace, they have not supplied any octopus," said Oscar, smiling through gritted teeth. He was also annoyed since octopus was not a fish and should not be served for the fish course.

She then suggested angler fish, which of course Oscar didn't have either, since it wasn't native to this country what with it being landlocked, though she was persistent in ordering the servants to find both octopus and angler fish at such late notice. Oscar wondered if they would succeed in time within the four hours. In preparation, Oscar thought on what other monster masks his friends had that could be weaponised into meals. Crow or some other kind of bird for Talon, maybe horse for Dex? Would they bring in a tiger for Lili? A bull for Calanthe? Though Oscar was perfectly fine with cow unless they did bring in a severed bull's head unskinned and prepped already.

"How about that 'special stew' you get in The Eternal Abyss?" asked the merchant, snickering. "Do you think you could replicate that?"

"Oh, yes quite easy," Oscar perked up, glad to not have to serve horse or crows, but that happiness dwindled when he heard the three of them laughing. Was there something funny about special stew? Stew was quite simple even with special stew having so many different meats to cook.

The bread course was an uninspired choice of tiger bread. Of all the choices in delicious bread they could have they chose something to reference Oscar's friends once again, a jab to him as all he could was nod and smile in response, kneading the dough, setting it and then popping it into the oven. He really wished he had at least a day of planning for this instead of in his exhausted state, both physically and emotionally. He would have also had time to prep everything instead of waiting for suggestions and having awkward lulls in-between meals longer than what a six course meal would be. However the three auction winners found their own amusement in between eating. The merchant continued to boast about his business, still wanting to implement Oscar into the scheme of things and Oscar had to get inventive in ways of changing the subject so as not to openly reject him.

"You really do have the face for modelling," the merchant continued to prattle. "You are simultanously give the vibe for both the common people and royalty. Something so simple about your features and yet something..." He clicked his fingers. "Ethereal even!"

"Oh yes!" The viscountess clapped her hands in agreement. "It must be a relief that your face all healed up after that fire, imagine if you had to remain that way." She made a noise of disgust before taking another sip of her soup which had long ago gone cold. She swirled her spoon in the remains, some of the mushrooms bobbing up to the surface. "It is indeed a shame about the leg though. Couldn't you have waited a bit longer before leaving? I wouldn't have minded waiting longer for you."

Oscar swallowed, his lips pursed together to stop him himself from saying anything that would get him into trouble, then curved them into an attempt at an amicable smile. "I suppose I was too focused on not getting killed." Meanwhile, his hand clutched tightly onto the crutch he had been given, his knuckles going pure white.

"Yes, true. I suppose you could have lost your memories again." She took another sip from the mushroom soup.

"Will you be returning to your home country?" asked the prince, which startled Oscar since the prince was the most quiet of the group, and would leave the table to eat somewhere more secluded to take off his mask in privacy.

"Ah yes, Your Highness, I will." Oscar bowed slightly, deciding to make himself appear busy again as he sensed another wave of awkward and personal questions.

"It must be dreadful," said the viscountess. "I assume you heard about Queen Corinna and her sister?"

Oscar swallowed, trying to track his memory if anyone had informed on the story of what happened to Princess Alfreda due to her absence. Alfreda said her sister declared her death, but since Oscar's release, no one had informed him, so he played it safe and acted blissfully ignorant. "I have not heard anything, I have not been told anything."

"Oh you poor thing!" gasped the viscountess. "Oh, I am so sorry! I know you have no memories of Princess Alfreda, but it still must hurt for you!"

"It is a regret to say that both Princess Alfreda and Queen Corinna IX have passed away," said the prince solemnly, and Oscar wondered if this was genuine care in his voice. "Princess Alfreda passed of health issues roughly nine years ago whilst you were imprisoned, and Queen Corinna was declared dead only this morning."

Oscar froze, his hand gripping tightly to the spoon as he sautéed onions in a sizzling pan. "Queen Corinna?"

"There hasn't been anymore information so far, just an official announcement," said the merchant. "We will get more details soon though it will likely well..." The merchant waggled his eyebrows.

"Likely what?" Oscar asked, forgetting tact as he feared for how Alfreda would feel at this news. She believed that she was being freed by her sister, as did he and all the other traitors to the crown imprisoned in the eternal abyss.

The merchant and viscountess hesitated to reply but the prince answered bluntly, "execution."

"Execution!" Oscar wobbled on his feet, his hand almost dropping his crutch.

"Did you not also have memories returned to you? Of Prince Osmond?"

"Oh, yes, I..." Oscar swallowed. "Is that why she was executed?"

"It appears that the late King Casimir placed a memory spell on the entire world, wiping away histories of his war faring days to seem like a peaceful nation, as well as the existence of his son Prince Osmond for unknown reasons, though it appears he is dead also. Duchess Sophia is acting regent for the moment, and made a statement concerning it since it brought several health issues, so many people fell unconscious with those memories returning across the world, though not as badly as her own people of course. But a significant amount of royalty who had known Prince Osmond and King Casimir's real behaviour were affected. Duchess Sophia is doing her best to clean up this mess and prevent war from happening in retaliation for Queen Corinna's mistakes."

"Was she the reason for the memories returning then?" Oscar asked, already knowing the answer since Alfreda had told him.

"Most likely, perhaps there was good intent there but her actions caused quite a good deal of harm."

"Another theory is that Queen Corinna perished after breaking the memory curse," added the viscountess. "Such powerful magic, that would have easily killed someone."

"The queen was already in bad health," said the prince casually leaning back on his chair. "I remember how she was at parties, how she walked and talked, and to think I could have potentially married her and be a part of that mess."

"You could ask Duchess Sophia for a job," said the merchant. "Since your previous employer is unfortunately passed. I am sure she would help out her cousin's servant."

"I would advise not returning to that country all together," huffed the prince. "One slip-up from the acting regent and you will be at war."

There was an uncomfortable pause.

"With your memories gone, you won't necessarily have to return to your previous life," the viscountess eventually spoke up. "Your employers are sadly passed, as have your family, so why return?"

"Yes, with the incident, returning your memories would be risky, lethal perhaps," added the merchant. "That is if it is even possible with the injuries you sustained."

Oscar could barely breathe. They had said it so casually. Oscar had asked Calanthe, Alfreda, and Lili about his past, any mentions of family were little since his previous self did not talk about it and yet he had to discover it like this, that his family was dead. What did he have to return to?

Why did they know that? How much had they researched him, both his life in The Eternal Abyss and before in the human world, a life that Oscar would never fully know with so much of it gone? Why though? Half the time during this meal, it was like they were weaponising this information, choosing certain ingredients to torture him but at the same time complimenting him, persuading him to work for him. They wanted him, but caged and defeated, to kill any sense of freedom he might have gained from his release. They were trying to talk as if he had no choice but to pick one of them to stay with and not pick himself.

"I have friends I want to see again at the very least," Oscar said, looking down as he concentrated on cooking again, the hot butter in the pan hissing and splashing his hand a little. He winced from the heat and pain, but masked it, not wanting them to notice.

"Yes, Dex and Calanthe," said the prince.

How Oscar hated how casually he said their names, as if they were his old friends and not Oscar's.

He was free. He was free. He was free.

Why didn't it feel like he was free?

Since they were waiting to hear back in regards to the availability of octopus and angler fish for the fish course, Henry served up the special stew replication first. He tried to make it as appetising as possible for a stew, having prepared dumplings too and extra buttered bread which all seemed so odd for such nobility to eat and consume. The prince took his food to a private section again to eat and the other two happily dug in only to wrinkle their noses.

"That's it?" The merchant sighed. "I was expecting more."

More? Oscar wondered, looking at what meat and seafood he could have also added, perhaps more vegetables, certainly the flavour shouldn't be lacking for a stew.

The merchant and the viscountess continued to express their disappointment but assured Oscar it was not his fault if he truly did just try to replicate it. Oscar wondered why they had such high hopes for the dish. In the end, they barely touched it, only a few forkfuls which felt like such a waste for how many ingredients went into it. It was meal incredibly rich and high in protein compared to other dishes and Oscar always liked receiving them due to this, but certainly not for its flavour.

Much to Oscar's dismay, a servant entered the room, informing him that they had secured both octopus and angler fish for him to cook. The three auction winners all made sounds of approval as well as laughter. Oscar bit his bottom lip nodding and trying to seem thankful towards the servant but wishing they had been more incompetent, as well as wondering how they managed to secure either of them on such short notice, the power of being rich, he supposed. All the resources for every whim.

Oscar looked to the other dishes he had created, wondering what to cook next that would bring the whole six-course experience together. But he supposed that the connection was not the flavours but rather references to his life, a different way of phycological torture despite all three auction winners wanting Oscar to work for him, an extreme level of negging he guessed.

Most of the dishes had been barely eaten by the merchant despite boasting about his levels of tastes and his appreciation for food, and a lot of his guesses in what ingredients and spices and herbs Oscar had used had been mostly incorrect. The viscountess had eaten half of every dish, perhaps more so out of boredom and waiting in-between each course due to how little planning Oscar had before all of this. And then the prince by surprise had scraped each plate and bowl clean despite the inconvenience of moving away in private to eat. Though a finished plate was a compliment, the prince gave little if not no verbal recognition compared to the others whose praises were beyond cringy and attention seeking.

"What happened to you and uh... Marvin?" asked the viscountess, prodding the angler fish head on her plate; Oscar had specially given her the head instead of just shredding the fish off the bone as payback for her all her suggestions for ingredients. Though he had to endure cooking it and recalling Calixte's face, it was worth it to see the viscountess' face when he served it to her, meanwhile, the merchant and the prince looked at her in envy believing it to be special treatment from the chef.

"Martin," the prince corrected before Oscar could which caused Oscar to fumble his words, enraged and embarrassed that his romantic exploits and situations had been broadcast and known to others for their own entertainment.

"Yes, Martin!" The viscountess grimaced at the fish head, its beady dead eyes staring back up at her. "I thought he was incredibly boring, so forgettable, just my opinion. I tried to find more about him but there was little of note."

Oscar pressed his lips together, concentrating on prepping the desert to be in the next hour.

"But he was good for you," said the prince. "Boring and mundane, plain and simple, but what you needed at the time after..." He made a long tired sigh. "All that mess."

"You weren't suited for each other." The viscountess nodded. "Or those others, I forget their names."

The prince began to list the other romantic entanglements Oscar had pursed in his time in The Eternal Abyss, making a comment that Oscar must have tried every gay man he could find in between each failure of a relationship with Sumit.

"Well, the stock you had to choose from were criminals," continued the prince. "I imagine your next paramour will be far better." He twirled his fork in-between his fingers.

Oscar fumbled with a saucepan lid and it made a heavy clank against the pan, almost sending the pan flying off the hob. He clutched the handle, steadying it and stirring viscously the sauce for the dessert, before returning to the fifth dish and asking the servant to bring in the octopus. To his horror, the octopus was alive inside of a tank; it was a fairly small octopus, one that could fit easily into your palm and was a pale yellowish cream colour.

"Only one?" The merchant uttered in disappointment. "I suppose it is the best that they could do in such little time."

"Why is it still alive?" Oscar blurted out in anger, startling the servant who had brought it in.

"I apologise sir," the servant warbled. "We assumed you would prefer it as fresh as it can be."

"Oh yes! Fresh!" The merchant laughed in glee. "Even after minutes of its death the tentacles can still move around! Oh, what a treat! A meal that fights back!"

The viscountess squirmed in disgust even though it was her suggestion to eat octopus.

"Do you want us to kill it for you, sir?" the servant asked Oscar.

"Do you not know how to prepare octopus, Oscar?" the merchant called out.

"Princess Alfreda was not too much of a fan of seafood," replied Oscar, then added quickly. "I assume, since I only recall pieces of recipes for octopus." He was supposed to not know Alfreda since she was considered dead for a decade now to the rest of the world, though it was true, Alfreda was not a fan of fish and would avoid any of the food packets that contained it.

After living in The Eternal Abyss for so long, Oscar, like many other prisoners, knew how to switch off when needed, to get through anything difficult, to survive, any horrors and gores, of pain, and Oscar did so now as he stared blankly as the small octopus was killed by the trained servant and he had to put it into boiling hot water. His mind distanced from reality, his vision a blur, his hands on auto pilot as they prepared the meal, though they trembled despite Oscar's efforts. Fortunately, the viscountess and the merchant were too distracted to notice, as the viscountess expressed her disgust and the merchant discussed tales of other sea creatures he had eaten, some alive or only freshly dead. However the prince watched on with great intensity that Oscar felt captured within his sight, constantly viewed just like he was in The Eternal Abyss.

As the merchant had explained, the tentacles twitched and jerked on the plate even after being boiled. Oscar once again served the viscountess the head and she almost screamed when one of the tentacles wobbled on the plate. The merchant expressed his envy, telling her what the texture of the octopus head was supposed to be like which disgusted her even further. She scraped around the edges of the sauce, far from the tentacles but dared not go any closer, the merchant meanwhile boasted about how great he was at eating live tentacles but struggled to so, and the prince returned to the table with an empty plate.

"And the final dish! Dessert!" cheered the merchant. "Such a shame that this evening will be over. But I really do think you can make a lot of money on this Oscar. Many would pay a fortune to have this kind of experience. I can be your business partner, do all the admin boring paperwork for you whilst you create!"

"Oh, I would definitely pay again!" The viscountess clapped whilst pushing away her barely touched octopus.

Oscar considered it, despite the experience he had tonight as he imagined how much they did pay for this, what was his worth? How many times would he need to do this before he could never interact with scum again, to be able to run away from everyone who knew him as Oscar Princess Alfreda's personal chef, the traitor, the cook of The Eternal Abyss? How much money would it take to reinvent yourself? Perhaps he could endure this again, if it could secure him a future. How much more damaged could he get? It could only get better from now on, right?

Dessert was dished out. Oscar plated each other and served the hot chocolate sauce and sweet smelling liqueur on top, a few garnishes and twirls for presentation before he brought out the matches. And to finish off the evening, after being forced to serve references to his own monster form, to Lili, Calixte, and Sumit, Oscar was forced to make a particular dessert that you set on fire. He struck the match, holding it firmly in between his fingers so as to not drop it early, and then set each dessert alight, the fire consuming the alcohol on top. The three auction winners were delighted, watching it burn, laughing and applauding, and Oscar once again slipped away from reality, not wanting to see that flame, but the smell was overwhelming, it tugged at memories deep down he had buried, the first memories he possessed of that fire from whence he was created, from the remains of the previous Oscar, created from greed, desperation and betrayal of two people that he had considered friends but could no longer remember. Fire had taken everything from him and now it was before him, such a small flame it was, and it delighted his new torturers and wardens immensely.