Tales from the Spice Lands

"In a land where food is sacred, recipes are divine, and war is waged over flavor—two souls rise: one to serve the Gods, one to destroy them."

"FIVE MINUTES LEFT ON THE CLOCK, SEBASTIAN! IT'S NOW OR NEVER!"

"I'LL ONLY NEED 2, SIR! JUST YOU WATCH!" Sebastian shouted right back at Sir Wannatabe with the utmost cockiness. Truly, how Sebastian of him.

He worked the wok like he was making passionate love with all the individual ingredients that he had combined to concoct what was, at least according to him, the best soba noodles the Gods had seen in a millennium. With the last five flips (to be honest, he was just showing his spoilt ass off at this point—the noodles had been done for some time now, showing how his apprenticeship with the continent's greatest chefs affected his food and experience), as sensual as ever, as thrusting (in the face of all that is holy) as ever, AS VOLUPTUOUS IN NATURE AS EVER, he dished out the noodles in a shining white pot over the glorious pearl green marble (with gold outline—yes, real gold) table counter.

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. YOU HAVE JUST BEEN SERVED!"

What was inside the pot? Well, as to reiterate, they were what Sebastian described as "THE BEST SOBA NOODLES THE GODS HAD SEEN IN A MILLENNIUM!" These were noodles like no other made before them. Truly one of a kind. Never before experimented or seen! Of course, who am I kidding? That's not what made Sebastian the world-class chef he is today. It was the perfection of the dish itself in its finest way possible. (New York's finest? Wait until you try Sebastian's soba noodles!)

Each noodle lay on top of the other, drenched in the exact amount of soy sauce. They called you so seductively, it would make you lose all pleasures of life and devour these curvy sons of holy perfection. The toasted sesame oil made each of the noodles shine—a shine that'd put the heavenly constellations to shame. The rice vinegar and garlic fused together to make a dominatrix that whipped the noodles, making them ooze on their command with liquids unknown to human taste buds. The aroma could choke you into a state of food coma, and you'd happily be choked by the hot honey that succumbed the noodles to its will.

"Who are you talking to? It is just me and no one else. No one else bothered to come. To be honest, I don't blame them either, you know...." Sir Wannatabe snarked back as he broke off the chopsticks and picked up the pot for a taste.

"You know, as someone who quite literally pays you, you've got some snarkiness shoved up in that white beard of yours." Sebastian exclaimed, making a face and facing the other way.

Sir Wannatabe rolled up the noodles with his chopsticks as the fumes of extravagant delight and deliciousness reached his nose and all the way to his throat without even having to eat it yet. He opened his mouth, laid the noodles on his murky red tongue, slurping it all into his mouth.

"Well? Well?? Well??? How is it?" Sebastian raised his left eyebrow and smirked, hoping—nay, knowing—Sir Wannatabe was going to bow down in all the noodles' might.

Sir Wannatabe stood silent, eyes closed, chewing in all grace and modesty.

"Come on, it's been 2 minutes already, old man. How long will it take you to eat, literally the easiest thing to chew and slurp and eat? You could practically even drink 'em. In fact, how about we—"

Sebastian was promptly interrupted by a servant that opened the door behind them.

"Young master, your father requests your presence at this very moment." the servant, who was dressed modestly in a black tux with white gloves and had slick black hair, requested to Sebastian.

"Oh, come on! I gotta go from one old man to the other. Even though I prefer this one over the other." Sebastian snickered.

"Sebastian! Please! At once, grace your father with your presence! And watch your tone and language!" Sir Wannatabe stood aflame, eyes wide open, exclaiming at Sebastian.

"Great, now he says something. Okay, okay, I'll go, old man. But I'll be back for my review!" Sebastian proclaimed to Sir Wannatabe and followed the servant outside the kitchen.

"Oi, where even is that old man?" Sebastian questioned the servant as both of them walked out of the kitchen and into a hallway.

This wasn't like any other hallway—pearl white marble flooring with pillars as high as 20 feet tall reaching the roof. The roof was no less than being hung upon by many chandeliers outlined by gold and upholding many diamonds in their arms. They were almost as if gold was melting through the roof.

"His Majesty is sitting in the throne room, awaiting you." the servant answered as they came to a halt at a wooden door almost as tall as the pillars, engraved with the letter "HW" (for their family name: Harlemwonder).

"Open it!" the guard proclaimed with so much zest filled in him, it seemed like the house was his.

The door opened—by the 2 guards who stood outside on guard—to a lusciously green square garden. The floor of the garden bed had the perfect amount of grass, cut to the perfect length. Trees that grew on every corner of the garden—apples and oranges that grew off of them fell on the floor every now and then— were surrounded by the most exotic and flavorful-smelling flora and fauna known to the continent. This was the garden. The garden of the Harlemwonder family.

"I'm positively sure you can find your own way to your father now, young master?" the servant cockily asked Sebastian.

Sebastian walked past him, giving him a shove on the shoulder, and started navigating through the garden.

At the other end of the garden awaited a gigantic glass door laden with ornaments of gold and diamond (as you can see, the Harlemwonder family loved their gold and exotic stones).

Sebastian, mimicking the servant from before with as much, if not even more zest, shrieked in a girly voice, "Open it!"

The door opened—this time by 4 macho-looking guards in royal guard apparel—to a throne far to the other end of the room, where sat an old man.

The old man shouted across the vast room, "Was it you? The one who disrespects the throne of his own father by a voice and attitude like that? Maybe you should have been born amongst the lowlifes of Nihariana!"

"Yeah, yeah! Royalty this, royalty that. Why am I here, oh so graciously benevolent father dear?" Sebastian increased the zest and cockiness and girly-ness in his voice.

"Come in. I have a matter to discuss with you. One that just might not only carry the fate of this region or family, but the fate of the entire continent.... And fix that tone of yours!" Yuki Harlemwonder said with a brazen tone in his voice, standing up with his royal buttocks from his throne.