Iridia: Apprentice Chef & Killer

I go by Iridia, but all that are dear to my little heart know me as Pepper. I was born on the island of Poe in the city of Alane. My mother, Ceylon, is an ebony beauty of five foot five with high cheek bones, silver eyes, and silken hair down to her ankles. She was born on the mainland in the city of Amontillado before it was burned to the ground by the one of the many armies of the warring city-states. Her parents, through luck and the grace of the Goddess, were able to bribe their way out of slavery with the few coins they had left after the city was sacked. So, with  my mother and my soon-to-be-dead uncle, they staggered their way into the wilderness with no provisions and two young children. Faith was left behind to rot in the city.



      Their luck was not completely sour. They managed to reach the shoreline near Amantialldo and stow away on a cruiser hoping it would take them anywhere else  that was not where they came from. Eventually they landed on the Island of Poe which they have now called home for the better half of a century.



    My grandparents do not talk about their lives on Amantillado, and at best, they tell me that their lives never existed before landing on Poe. My mother says when they lost their son their only connection to the main land was buried with him. I could never  glean any information from her either. She says the only thing she remembers about Amontillado are the carrion birds and the blood on her hands from tripping over the many dead bodies as she and her parents fled  the city: she was four years old then.



        Fortunately, my maternal grandparents were a part of the artisan caste in Amontillado; my grandfather a skilled baker and my grandmother a creative confectioner. With conviction and wit they managed to hire themselves out to a baker in the slums of Alane. They worked there for several years before the owners died and they were able to buy the place outright. Over time my grandparents managed to turn a humble upper slum bakery into middle class confectionary. With their new business they were able to apprentice my mother to a spice merchant whose son would eventually become my father.



        Like most of the natives on Poe his skin is a fair honey-brown that shines golden in the sunlight; Mama said that is was his beautiful heart and whimsical nature that made her love him. My father, Galingale, is a dreamer where my mother is as shrewd as they come. He is  the son of a very affluent spice merchant  and as such he was expected to be as serious and business savvy as his father. But my father  is the exact opposite. He is a smart man but his heart is buried beneath the waves of the Sepulchre Sea. He was born to be a sailor and inherited his talent from his late mother who would have been a serious sailor if not for her delicate immune system. She taught him everything she knew before dying of a  breathing affliction during the winter of his twelfth birthday. After her death my father was determined to live her dream of sailing the Sepulchre Sea.



    Without any encouragement from his father to sail he decided to set sail for himself. At the reckless age of fifteen he stole one of his father's small vessels. With it he managed to navigated the eddies and whirlpools that have sent many a more seasoned sailor to a watery grave. The sun set and he never returned.  Everyone thought he was dead.



      Having lost his wife only a few short years earlier my paternal grandfather was nearly sick to death at the loss of his son. Grandfather was so distraught he let his business reflect his sorrow. If my father had not returned when he had the family business would have been ruined.  When he finally did return, five months later, he returned to tears, kisses, and a punch to the jaw from his father for stealing and being gone so long. But all was quickly forgiven because not only was my father alive, but he had brought back spices that the island had not seen since the wars started one-hundred years ago; spices that were only found deep inland where the worst of the wars were raging . With my father back Grandpa's nerves were relieved. With the spices my father brought back business flourished and my Grandfather was proud again.



      Many months passed after my father's voyage and my grandfather realized that the the sea was not out of his son's blood and never would be. It left grandpa no choice but to make sure his son was married off to a level-headed woman who would keep his business alive. He decided he would take an apprentice, a pretty young girl, teach her the business from top to bottom and do everything in his power to have her married and pregnant to Galingale before he himself was lowered into the Sepulchre in a watery funeral like every other inhabitant of Poe.



      My  grandfather is a practical man, my mother says I take after him.



      It wasn't love at first sight for my parents, it was the opposite in fact. My mother thought his skin looked like sun-dried fish and his frame was thin and gangly. The salt-encrusted son of her employer and master was the furthest thing from her mind when she was apprenticed.  If anyone were to ask her about marriage she would say she would never marry and would rather lay barren than to marry a fool.  My father thought her  too much like his father in temperament and too dark and too foreign. If anyone were to ask him about marriage he would say that his only love was the sea and that if his father wanted an heir  he should remarry or take a mistress.



      My parents are stubborn, but I've always thought of myself as flexible and open to any ideas.



      My parents say that for the seven years that my mother was apprenticed they never spoke more than two words and couldn't stand the sight of each other. If you ask my grandfather he'll say they were stealing lustful glances the whole time.



        Perception is such a funny thing



      If it was destined by the Goddess  that my parents lead the lives they planned on it was diverted by the shear iron will of my grandfather. It was his plan to have my mother as his daughter and my father as the titular head of his business and that was how it was going to be.



      On the night that marked the end of my mother's apprenticeship my grandfather  hosted a party in her honor. My mother's parents, every merchant in town, and every sailor under his payroll showed up for drink and games. Of course my mother and father spent the entire party ignoring each other. They drank and they danced with everyone except each other. My mother traded stories with other apprentices and my father traded stories with the sailors about life and the war on the mainland. It was a good time for everyone.



      At the end of the night my grandfather gave a toast in my mother's honor, declaring her the best thing to ever happen in his life and as close to a daughter as he would ever have.  He then forced my father to make a toast to my mother honoring her hard work and dedication . As is the custom, the toaster and the toastee share a drink from the same glass so that the speakers good will is directly transferred to the recipient. The wine they shared was drugged.



      After the party my grandfather spent the night passed out in his bed.  My parents spent the night keeping the horses awake in the barn.



      That was how my brother Fennel was conceived; my mother was nineteen and my father was twenty-two. Having my brother seemed to warm my parents disposition toward each other and a year after my brother's birth they were officially married. They would say that it was the unconditional love a child brings to life that brought out the love in their hearts for each other. I would say that my mother realized she would gain permanent access to a well-established business and my father realized his father would have an heir which meant he was free to sail. I think love came much later. But that's just my opinion. Anyway,  I was born five years later and my younger sister, Anise, came another two years after me. My parents were happy; they had a prospering business, a growing family, and most importantly, according to grandpa, his spice business had an heir.



      Grandpa's priorities were always a bit twisted, but I am far more twisted than he could ever dream.



      It has been twenty years since my parents married.  Fennel has nearly mastered all there is to know about the spice business and Anise is turning out to be quite the little sailor. I know that one day Fennel will take over the business on Poe, and Anise will take many voyages to the mainland to gather new spices. Together, they will surely grow the family business. I know they will be an unstoppable team: Grandpa will be proud.



        I on the other hand am the black sheep of the family. I like to use spices not sell them. It took many years and many  tantrums to make my parents warm to the idea of me being a chef.  I am fifteen years old now and in the third year of a seven-year apprenticeship at Castle Annabelle. I am apprenticed  under the sweetest and most brutal master chef on Poe:  Master Chef Boldo. He  is stern but fair and it is in his kitchen that I learned more about life and myself than I ever could have apprenticed anywhere else. It was in his kitchen that I discovered my passions. It  was  in his kitchen, that I discovered my twisted nature and began my life as Iridia".