Gingaopu

Gingaopu. Picking it up was a reminder that he would likely never get a chance to bite into one again. Vidvan prepared himself to appreciate it to his fullest extent.

In texture and shape it was like a tangerine, but beyond that there was no comparing it to anything. There was a savory quality that usually only came in meat, combined with a faint sweetness that reminded Vidvan of a pie. A meat pie. Yet so much better.

“What do you think?”

“I could see someone building up a wealthy empire simply to have more ready access to this.”

His Master laughed again. “That goes a little far, but we appear to share a similar taste! I am glad you enjoy it, Vidvan.”

“It would be a crime to eat something after this.”

“Until the taste fades! You understand it well!”

Only after this exchange did Vidvan realize the room had froze around them. He had missed the point when they were not alone, that other people had watched in abject wonder that their Master had shared his gingaopu.

He straightened his robes and returned to work.

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