Merchant Crab

The crab gazed thoughtfully at the stone-like egg, its rough surface looking like the darkened scales of an old lizard, with tiny shimmering specks of crystal appearance reflecting light in a blue tone that captivated him to no end.

Balthazar knew little about eggs, especially of that kind. Despite having presumably hatched from one himself, he never really had anyone to educate him on such matters. He once found a section in a book that talked about crab mating and crab roe, but the details of that are best left untouched, for they would not be family friendly.

What he also knew was that eggs were where birds came from, but somehow he was certain what he had there was not a bird’s egg. It was too… beautiful to be that.

However, as much as Balthazar despised the wretched flying creatures, one small thing he had to concede about them: their eggs were essential to the making of most of his favorite pastries.

Which made the act of cracking an egg all the more satisfying. One contributes to the making of a delicious baked good, while at the same time preventing another of the wretched creatures from ever even being born. He was sure there was some saying that could be made out of that there, something to do with birds, and getting two for one, but the crab couldn't think of anything specific at that moment, so he figured it would be best to leave it for later.

Debating whether he was more fascinated by its glimmer, or his curiosity about what was inside, Balthazar picked up the egg and weighed it up and down.

“Hmm, pretty heavy. Doesn’t feel hollow at all.”

Curiosity won, and the crab decided he needed to know what that thing contained.

Struggling to wrap his iron pincer around the egg, he used his silver claw, carefully adjusting the position until it was firmly secure in his grasp.

“Alright, now just a little squeeze to make it crack…”

Balthazar pressed once.

Balthazar pressed twice.

At the third press he was already straining to squeeze any harder, and the hard stone surface was showing no signs of giving in to his mighty pincer.

“What the hell is this made of?” he said with a slight panting.

With the pinching approach producing no results, Balthazar tried bashing the top of it with the blunt side of his right pincer.

Growing increasingly annoyed with each strike, the crab hammered at the thing over and over, without so much as a dent being made.

“No wonder this thing passed through so many hands,” the flustered crustacean said. “I bet none of them could do anything with it, so they just kept selling it to the next sucker.”

Refusing to accept defeat, and determined to prevail where less clever humans failed, he considered what other ways he could try to get to his prize.

Balthazar looked over to Bouldy. The golem would likely be able to crush the thing with just one hand, but brute force would probably not be the right approach there, as whatever was inside would probably end up destroyed, too.

As he often did, the crab thought back to all the books he had recently read, looking for the one piece of information that might help him crack the case.

With a snap of his left pincer, Balthazar perked up. “That’s it!”

He hurriedly crossed the bridge with the egg.

The merchant had found very early on that he wasn’t destined to be a baker himself, or a cook, given his lack of puny, delicate hands, but there were still times where he would read a cookbook, even if just to pass the time, when every other piece of literature was already consumed.

It was a basic recipe from one such book that he remembered. Out of the many ways humans had to prepare eggs, baking was just one. They’d fry them, stir them, and even… boil them.

That had to do the trick. If he were to boil the hard egg in hot water for long enough, it would eventually soften up, and who knows, perhaps he’d find what he was really hoping for all along: a rare and exotic delicacy. After all, if eggs were present in so many of his beloved pastries, they would likely be delicious on their own, too.

Besides, eating it might send a powerful message to any passing birds.

Asserting dominance was important.

Taking an iron grill and placing it over the coals of the fire pit, the crab then used a few strikes of his claw against a stone to set some tinder ablaze and start the fire.

Balthazar grabbed a cooking pot and filled it with water from the pond, before carefully placing it on the grill, over the already crackling fire.

He had never tried cooking anything at all, having always enjoyed his meals of fish raw, and later his pastries made by someone else, but now that he was attempting it, he was surprised at how easy it was.

“Now just going to wait until the water starts boiling and—“

[Cooking…]

The text appeared in front of his eyes as he placed a lid over the pot, much to his surprise.

“That’s a thing?”

He wouldn’t have expected such a basic task to have anything to do with the system or any skills, but thought little of it. After all, how hard could boiling an egg be?

[Cooking failed]

[Result: [Burned Water]]

“Burned… water?” the incredulous crab repeated. “How the hell is that even possible?!”

Lifting the lid, Balthazar looked inside to find the cooking pot empty again.

“Are you kidding me?! I would think this stupid system would give me helpful skills, not make me fail at basic things!”

Cursing the system in his thoughts, Balthazar considered his options once more.

Since his Cooking skill being an F apparently made him completely useless at any kind of cooking, he didn’t want to risk trying to boil the egg and losing it forever.

Then, an idea of how to circumvent the system occurred to him.

Moving the grill and cooking pot aside, Balthazar picked up the egg and carefully laid it over the sizzling coals.

Waiting for a moment with both pincers in the air over the egg, ready to take it out of the pit at the first sign of danger, the crab observed attentively, but no text appeared in his eyes.

“Ah, take that!” the proud crustacean exclaimed, to some imaginary presence. “Outsmarted you again! This doesn’t count as cooking.”

Watching the scaly rock being caressed by the flames, with still no signs of any change, Balthazar let out a long sigh.

“Well, this is boring to watch.”

Startled by a bell toll, the merchant snapped out of his egg trance to see Rye and Madeleine arriving.

“You guys are here already? I must have lost track of time,” Balthazar said, looking up at the sun’s position as he walked towards the pair.

“Yes, we are,” Madeleine said, looking slightly stressed. “Now can you tell us what was so urgent you had some random adventurer deliver me that message and make me come down here on purpose to meet with you when you know I’m up to my neck with orders?”

“We’re kind of worried, Balthazar,” Rye added. “Is there something bad going on?”

Balthazar glanced at the archer for a moment. He appeared to be acting as his usual self. Did he even remember their previous conversation? Whichever the case, he didn’t seem as disturbed or confused as when they had last seen each other, which was somewhat of a relief.

“Calm down, you two,” the crab said. “There is something bad going on, but don’t worry, I’ve got a plan. And I’ll need your help in particular, Madeleine.”

“My help?” she asked, pointing a finger at herself while looking puzzled. “With what?”

“Let’s sit down. It will make sense once I explain everything.”

***

An hour had passed, as the trio of conspirators discussed Balthazar’s plan between scones and slices of pie.

“Right, so are you two clear on what I intend to do?” the crab asked, while placing two heavy coin pouches in Madeleine’s hands.

“Yes, I guess so,” the baker reluctantly said. “But I still don’t like that you’re giving me all this money, Balthazar. This is a lot. It will cover a whole month of rent, and then some.”

“I’m not giving it to you, Madeleine. You should know by now I’m not the type to be giving money away,” the gilded merchant retorted. “This is an advance pay for the lots of work you will do for me in the next few days.”

The girl pouted slightly while looking down.

“Do you work for free now?”

She shook her head.

“Don’t you need the money for rent?”

She nodded.

“Then stop arguing. I’m paying you for your services, that’s all. Besides, it's in my best interest to make sure your business doesn't go under. Who would make me delicious pies and other pastries then?”

“Fine,” she conceded, in a way that resembled a small child.

“Told you, stubborn,” Rye said with a shrug and an apologetic smile.

“I know,” said Balthazar, turning to the young man. “As for you, you got the list of what I need? Think you’ll be able to bring them over in time?”

Rye raised a small piece of parchment where he had noted what the crab required. “Got it right here. Don’t worry, I’ll get everything.”

“Excellent,” Balthazar said. “Then it’s settled. Let’s put pincers to work and get this plan moving.”

“Sure thing,” said the archer. “I think if I hurry back to town, I could still get a couple of these things before nightfall.”

“And I need to hurry too,” Madeleine added. “I got to finish my remaining orders for tomorrow before I dedicate myself full time to yours. And I also need to get a lot of ingredients from the market first thing in the morning. I’m going to need so much flour and sugar, not to mention all the eggs.”

“The egg!” Balthazar shouted, with a sudden jump in place that startled the girl and the boy in front of him.

The crab hurriedly skittered his way to the fire pit. “Oh no, oh no. I completely forgot about the egg!”

“What egg? What are you talking about?” a confused Rye asked.

“This thing!” an exasperated Balthazar said, pointing to the charred black rock in the middle of the fire as the other two moved closer.

“That’s an egg?” the archer questioned.

“What were you trying to do with it?!” the confounded baker said.

“First, I tried to crack it open, but that didn’t work,” the crab explained, while attempting to fan the flames down, but only stoking them even higher. “So then I tried to boil it, or cook it, or something that would let me open the damn thing. Most of the stuff you make uses eggs. I figured there was a good chance it would be a delicacy!”

“What?!” Madeleine said. “That’s not how it works, and that’s not how you cook eggs either, Balthazar!”

“Guys…” Rye said.

“Will you two stop and just help me get it out of the fire?!”

“Guys?”

“Stop fanning the fire. You’re making it worse!”

“Guys!”

“What?!” the crab and the baker said in unison.

“Why is it shaking?” Rye said, pointing at the egg in the fire pit.

The other two turned back to look at the fire.

As the orange flames swirled around the surface of the rugged shell, some of them briefly flared blue. With an increasing shaking, a crack formed near the top of the egg.

The trio watched with bated breath as the crack spread, until finally a thick chunk fell off, producing a small hole in the surface.

From within, a scaly blue eyelid opened, revealing a yellow lizard-like eye, looking up at the sky for the first time.