The world's best-kept secrets hide in plain sight.

Exclusivity is, at its core, the side entrance to a nightclub, guarded by a bouncer and a single strip of velvet rope. It is the ordinary-looking parking garage that only ever rolls up its shutter to welcome a limo. It is the fifty-first floor of an international hotel with no corresponding button in the elevator.

But the world's biggest secrets need not concern themselves with guards, locked entrances, or missing elevator buttons. True exclusivity is an unassuming facade that, at a precursory glance, welcomes everyone. Yet only those in the know are brave enough to enter. The precise mechanism of its operation is unknown, but whether through telepathy or otherwise, it conveys a message that transcends language and culture.

Unless you have business here, do not enter.

There was one such entrance in the city's heart, on the corner of Lord and Hunter Street. Nathan had passed it countless times over many years without once glancing at it. There it stood, squashed between one skyscraper that housed the country's second-largest bank, and a slightly smaller skyscraper rented by the world's fourth-largest accounting firm.

The city's best-kept secret is a simple black door. Even with the street address, Nathan mistook it for a fire escape at first sight. The only indication otherwise were small letters — unreadable from the street — fastened to the front. Lowercase, unpolished brass; they read:

Aureate

Nathan stared at the door, towering before him like an ancient monolith. Even with reservations, he hesitated. Was a reservation alone really enough to intrude on such a holy place? Perhaps if he returned with an offering, he'd find the courage to step through — into the great unknown.

Lucky for him, Darshi was there to grab his hand and take charge. She marched through the door without so much as a flinch; she had business there, after all. Nathan stumbled through behind her, feeling much safer hidden behind the larger lizardfolk. The roar of the city — engines, car horns, and the murmur of a hundred conversations — went silent as the door swung shut behind them.

Before Nathan had time to absorb the equally black room they found themselves in, Darshi pulled him forward.

'Watch your step, honey.'

Nathan glanced down just in time to spot the faint silhouette of curving steps, each illuminated by a single light on its edge. Together, they spiralled down the staircase, Darshi bounding two steps at a time, and Nathan leaping after her.

'To be honest,' said Nathan, 'I wasn't expecting something like this.'

'That's how you know it's going to be good.' Darshi looked back over her shoulder, flashing him a toothy smile. 'Gourmet dining isn't only about the food. The experience is just as important.'

Darshi's jade scales twinkled, though the golden sheen of the lights below hid much of the vibrant green Nathan loved so much.

'But I thought this place served your native cuisine,' he said. 'Like, how it's prepared in your homeland.'

'That's right.'

Nathan opened his mouth, but closed it as he second-guessed himself. The lizardfolk of Velvian were a tribal culture that lived deep in the rainforest. He just couldn't reconcile his image of a close-knit community — tucked away from the outside world — with a gold-lit staircase and a glitzy name like Aureate.

As if sensing his confusion, Darshi giggled. 'It's ironic.'

'What is?'

'The name, the decor. They say the rainforest contains natural things of every colour — every colour but gold.'

'Ah…' Nathan scratched his head. 'So, it's just irony for irony's sake?'

'There's a deeper meaning. At least, according to this interview with the head chef I saw online. Apparently, the restaurant was his way of sharing Velvian culture with the world.' Darshi spoke fast, clearly excited to share her research. 'Also, fusing modern cooking styles with traditional ingredients. A bit like bringing gold to the rainforest, he said. Hence the name.'

It wouldn't surprise Nathan to learn she had spent the last week rereading every article she could find about the restaurant. They had both been looking forward to this for months, after all.

For Nathan, the uniqueness of the cuisine on offer left him in a limbo of nervous excitement. He wasn't much of a fine diner, but Aureate offered an experience alien in every respect. Its online menu listed ingredients so foreign, one would be forgiven for assuming it served as an anagram for the password to enter the restaurant. Until he made the booking, he hadn't considered what it would be like to experience ingredients he had never heard of — for his taste buds to savour an entirely unknown flavour.

Darshi's excitement for the food matched his, but this culinary adventure held deeper importance for her. She was born in Velvian, but her family moved to the city before she was old enough to walk. She never found an opportunity to return home. Nathan figured that was why she suggested Aureate — it was her way of connecting with her native culture, as well as introducing Nathan to it.

Bringing gold to the rainforest; it resonated with him.

However, one thing still confused him. He leaned over the railing, vertigo washing over him as he traced the staircase's dimly lit path — an endless golden spiral — into the darkness below.

'So,' he said, 'why are we breaching the earth's crust?'

Darshi tsked, shaking her head. 'Didn't you do your research?'

'I did. But, you know… I'm testing you.'

'Sure…' She gave Nathan's hand a playful squeeze. 'Well then, you would know that Velvian has the largest subterranean cave system in the world. The ingredients here come from both above and below the rainforest floor.'

'Really? What's there to eat underground?'

'That research you definitely did would have answered that for you.' She glanced back, her snout curled into a grin. 'You'll just have to wait and see.'

Another minute passed with just the clank of their steps, descending deep beneath the city. Finally, the literal light at the end of the tunnel revealed itself — two columns of golden floor lights leading away from the staircase.

As they reached the bottom landing, Nathan glanced up. He couldn't spot the entrance. 'You know what's going to suck? Climbing back out.'

Darshi had no such concerns. 'A bit of light exercise following a meal is good for you.'

'Light? A few hundred steps is light to you?'

'It might do you some good.' She gave his belly a cheeky pinch.

'H-hey!' He smacked away her hand. 'Grabbing that isn't fine dining etiquette!'

'Neither is complaining about stairs.' She lowered her head to smile at the smaller human, the silver rings around her horns sending dazzling reflections all over the dark hallway. 'Besides, what would you have me do about it? Carry you back up?'

'Oh, well…' Nathan felt his face going red; at least the dim lighting hid that. 'If you would be so kind…'

'Hah.' Darshi tugged Nathan's arm, pulling him towards the double doors at the end of the hallway. 'We'll see.'

They stepped through the doors and into the restaurant proper. It greeted them with soft orange lighting and pale wood furniture — a stark contrast to the bleak staircase. A dozen tables dotted the expansive room, spaced far apart. Their varnished wood glimmered, each brightened by a small candle at their centre, flickering within a cloudy cylinder. Parties of two occupied all the tables — mostly humans, with the occasional lizardfolk couple.

A tall lizardfolk, dressed in a neat white tuxedo — a golden serviette draped over one arm — greeted the pair and led them to a secluded table at the back of the restaurant. He poured them water — even their glasses had a golden veneer — and left them to look over the menu.

Darshi didn't even glance at hers. 'Degustation. Trust me on that.'

As much as Nathan did, he flipped through the menu, curious about what lay in store. However, finding the degustation section was the best he could manage; his eyes flickered over the names of the dishes and the key ingredients, but the words lacked meaning. Accents and apostrophes dotted the page like leftover specks of food. Such a multitude, in fact, that Nathan scratched his fingernail over them, hoping some would come off to transform the menu into something legible to one without a linguistics degree.

None did. The menu was as pristine as the decor.

'Degustation it is,' he said, beaming up at Darshi. Perhaps not knowing what to expect would be half the fun. As Darshi had said, the experience is just as important as the food.

Before long, a different waiter approached their table, the sheen of his blue scales complimenting the plainness of his white and black tuxedo. He bowed in a manner Nathan hadn't seen before, partway between a curtsy and a traditional bow, keeping his hands and tail behind his back.

'Sir and madam,' he said as he straightened himself. 'It is my utmost pleasure to welcome you both to Aureate. My name is Thixl.' He smiled warmly, gesturing to their menus. 'May I be of assistance in guiding you through tonight's menu?'

Darshi shook her head. 'We've decided to go with the degustation menu.'

'Ah, wonderful. An excellent choice.' He turned to Nathan, eyeing him with concern. 'For our human guests, we have a substitute dish for the third item on the degustation menu, if that is of any interest to you, sir.'

Uh oh. Nathan couldn't imagine the default dish tasting anything less than incredible, so something else must make it particularly unpalatable for human customers. Uncertain, he glanced at Darshi, who mouthed back some variation of Try it.

If there was ever a time to be brave, it was now.

'Thank you,' said Nathan, trying to hide his nervousness, 'but I'll stick to the default.'

'Wonderful, sir. I assure you — your taste buds won't be disappointed.'

Well, at least his taste buds were in the clear. He dared not ask what aspect would cause distress, however; it was a question best left unanswered.

Thixl took their menus, bowing again before leaving the table. Nathan watched him walk away — his blue tail swaying as elegantly as his straightened form — before turning to Darshi. 'What have I gotten myself into?'

She leaned forward, flashing her sharp teeth as she smirked. 'A true culinary experience.'

Oh no.

The two chatted as they awaited their first course, watching waiters deliver bizarre dishes of all sorts to neighbouring tables. Their rich scents wafted through the air, mingling together into something entirely exotic. Though Nathan had no clue what they were, the concoction was mouth-watering. He found himself swallowing his drool as his hunger swelled.

Thankfully, their collective appetite wasn't left unsated for long. Familiar blue scales glittered from the kitchen door, and Thixl strolled towards their table. He carried two plates, held high, denying Nathan even a glimpse of the mystery dish. The couple straightened up as Thixl finally reached their table.

'Esteemed guests,' he said, 'I present your first course for tonight.' He bowed and curtsied with his left arm, balancing the two gold-bottomed plates on his right. 'Motlé glowcap, commonly known as the shimmering tongue, lightly sautéed and garnished with shredded tuberous root of the juvenile lylial tree.'

Nathan didn't have time to process half those words before Thixl lowered the two plates to the table. The sight made him blink rapidly in reflex, his eyes and brain unable to comprehend the glare of colours before him. There were two rows of what seemed like thinly sliced mushrooms, their iridescent shine overpowering that of the table's candle. Each slice glimmered in a different colour, forming two multicoloured streaks across his plate. He leaned closer, trying to focus beyond the colours, but each twitch of his head made them alter, as though their surfaces were holographic cards.

'And topped', Thixl said, holding a dipping bowl above the table, 'with a cooled shiraz sauce.'

Thixl curved the bowl, and as the red sauce drizzled over Darshi's plate. A loud hiss of steam trailed to the ceiling, filling the air with a rich, earthy sweetness that made Nathan swallow. As the steam rose, it sparkled into a brilliant array of colours, glittering like a disco ball above their heads, before twinkling out of existence.

Nathan couldn't contain his curiosity. He had a hundred questions — and blurted out the first one that came to mind. 'Is this… a mushroom?'

'Indeed, sir.' Thixl poured the sauce onto Nathan's plate, treating the two to a second burst of dazzling steam. 'The motlé glowcap is a luminescent mushroom. There are millions of bioluminescent molecules on its surface, each glowing a different colour. Because there are so many, you will see different colour combinations depending on the angle you look.'

'Incredible…' Nathan had so many more questions, but his mind went blank, mesmerised by the incredible light show taking place before him.

 'These prismatic mushrooms', Thixl continued, 'are a common sight in the caverns deep beneath the Velvian rainforest. They are one of the few natural sources of light that thrive that deep underground. However, they lose their luminescence only an hour after being plucked from the earth.'

'Only an hour?' Darshi tilted her head. 'How do these mushrooms still have their glow?'

'Each glowcap requires careful transport. They are kept within their own light-locked capsule, complete with a cubic metre of their original soil, to ensure they maintain their glow until they are ready to serve.'

'I've never seen something so colourful.' Nathan swivelled his plate, delighting in how the colours twisted and transformed on cue, much like a kaleidoscope. Though he felt blessed to witness such a sight so far away from its natural home, it was bittersweet; their beauty would soon fade away.

'Why is it called the shimmering tongue?' asked Darshi, wetting her lips with a tongue of her own.

'An excellent question, madam.' Thixl smiled — genuinely, as though sharing his knowledge brought him great joy. 'Our kin will often pluck motlé glowcaps for a quick snack while exploring underground. Besides being highly nutritious, some of their prismatic sheen will rub off on the tongue, transforming it into a personal light source and signal flare — quite useful in those pitch-black caverns.'

Nathan shot up. 'Does that mean our tongues will glow rainbow as well?'

'Correct, sir.'

'Oh, this I have to see.' Nathan picked up his fork.

'Before you begin, sir,' Thixl said, 'I should note that the motlé glowcap has a pleasing umami earthiness, similar to many common mushrooms. That is complemented by the sponge-like tuberous roots of lylial trees, which are often harvested from cavern ceilings where they poke through — right above their glowcap counterparts. The roots of juvenile trees, in particular, are decadently creamy with a hint of smokiness, which perfectly complements the glowcap's subtle taste.'

Nathan squinted, trying to spot the spongy garnish. He had little luck; colours danced over his vision as if building upon themselves within his cornea.

Thixl bowed again. 'Sathje' he said, before leaving the two to dine.

'Sathje means enjoy.' Darshi picked up her knife and fork.

'Ah. Sat-gee to you as well, then.' Nathan pieced a mushroom with his fork, bringing it to his nose. 'Ready to paint our tongues, then?'

'Make sure you don't rub it over your nose.' Darshi brought her own serving to her mouth. 'Unless you fancy yourself a rainbow-nosed reindeer.'

Not craving the Christmas look this early into the year, Nathan kept the fork a safe distance away and breathed in the aroma. A mild, earthy sweetness came first — as expected of something that grows so deep underground. The fruity aroma of the shiraz sauce struck next, before the smokiness of the roots tickled the back of his nose.

Nathan then brought the mushroom into his mouth. His eyes went wide; it was so tender — almost creamy — that he thought it might melt in his mouth. The sauce rolled over his tongue alongside the mushroom, adding some slight sweetness with just a hint of acidity. He swallowed, and the gentle smokiness of the tubers lingered in his throat, leaving behind a mildly bitter aftertaste, a heavenly contrast to the earlier sweetness.

Spotting Darshi already swallowing her second bite, he poked two more mushrooms to catch up. Again, a creamy sweetness filled his mouth, slowly trickling to bitter smokiness. He poked another duo of mushrooms, this time twirling his fork to admire how they glittered through the entire spectrum of colours. Thick globs of sauce dripped back onto his plate, the once-red shiraz now glowing vibrantly, having soaked up the bioluminescence of the mushroom.

That suddenly reminded him — what of his own tongue?

'Nathan, honey!' Darshi had a wide smile on her face. 'Look, look.' Her long tongue slithered out, the forked tip shimmering like a prism as it curled through the air. It wasn't as bright as their plates, but it rivalled the candle. It was little surprise why the cavern-exploring lizardfolk of Velvian liked these glowcaps so much.

Like the flick of a switch, the light vanished as Darshi slid her tongue back into her mouth. 'Now show me yours.'

Nathan hesitated; it seemed wrong to stick his tongue out in such a fancy restaurant. Then again, it wouldn't be on the menu if the head chef didn't expect their guests to have some fun with it. The experience was just as important as the food, after all.

With a shy chuckle, Nathan rolled his tongue out as far as he could. A glimmer of light washed over his nose, and he went cross-eyed to see the tip of his rainbow-coloured tongue.

Darshi covered her mouth. 'You look so silly,' she said between giggles. 'It's even making your nose glow!'

Nathan pulled his tongue back and dabbed his lips with his serviette. 'I think using it as a light only works if you have a long, flexible tongue.'

'Don't lose hope, honey.' Darshi covered her mouth again, stifling a laugh. 'If you really want to go cave exploring, we could just rub it over your forehead.'

'I might pass on that idea. Why don't you eat double for the two of us?'

'And what? Lead you by the hand the entire time?' She smiled playfully, but then her amber eyes went wide. 'Actually, that sounds kind of fun…'

Nathan and Darshi soon finished their plates, and their waiter — as if possessing a sixth sense — swooped in to collect them the moment they put their cutlery down. They chatted as they awaited their next course, delighting in how the insides of their mouths flashed with colours as they spoke. Even their glasses swirled with colourful ripples, brightening with each sip. To his credit, Thixl offered to replace their water, but they decided against it; the colours added a whimsical atmosphere unlike anything they had ever experienced.

Thixl soon returned with a single platter. A golden-brown puff sat in the middle, flanked by six thin strokes of some sort of dip, three on each side, arranged like the whiskers of a cat. Two red, two blue, two yellow.

'Esteemed guests,' he said, placing down the platter, 'I present tonight's second course. This dish is a harmonious blend of the two extremes of the Velvian rainforest — the highest canopies, together with the deepest caverns.'

Thixl pointed to the puffy lump between the coloured whiskers. 'At the centre is glebko scallop, seared. It is the only living organism found in the deepest recesses of Velvian's subterranean network, some ten kilometres beneath the earth. There are only two cave-inhabiting scallops worldwide, making this specimen all the more special. The rare bodies of water down there are heavy with minerals from the surrounding rock, which the resourceful glebko consumes in the absence of light and all other food sources.'

To Nathan, it was chunkier than an ordinary scallop, yet its presence on the plate left him humbled. The difficulty in harvesting something so small, so deep underground, must be immense. Ten kilometres in rush-hour traffic exhausted him enough, and he had the benefit of an air-conditioned vehicle.

Thixl then pointed at the trails of jam. 'Surrounding the glebko are three jams made from native Velvian fruit. These grow on the highest branches of the dense rainforest, at heights of over fifty metres. Luckily, Velvian natives are as skilled climbers as they are spelunkers. The blue is the delicious suhwi, a common staple in Velvian diets for its abundance and taste. I must warn our human guest, however; it is quite bitter for their tongues.'

Bitterness didn't frighten Nathan. Spiciness, though… that was another story. 

'The yellow wiscnie fruit is a rare delicacy. Wiscnie trees are very susceptible to disease and rot, but research and conservation efforts have given their sour fruit a culinary lifeline. Last but not least, the red zilzena is a fruit that remained elusive to Velvian natives for hundreds of years. Their shell is harder than iron, making them more suited to a throwing weapon than a meal. But with tools from the modern world, their heavenly nectar became ours for the taking.'

Nathan had already forgotten those four names; foreign words were just so taxing to commit to memory, especially when you're simultaneously learning about fruit you never knew existed.

Thixl bowed, said, 'Sathje,' and left Nathan and Darshi to dine.

'Wait,' said Nathan, 'he didn't say how we should eat it.'

'Isn't it obvious?' Darshi pointed to the scallop. 'There are six slices of glebko, and six strips of jam.'

'So, we just take a slice and scoop up one of the jams? That's it? And if we're not given cutlery, does that mean we use our hands?'

'Come on, Nathan. It's not rocket surgery.' She smirked as she picked up a triangular cut of scallop. 'Renowned restaurants aren't all super-formal affairs, and this one is anything but. Tribal people, tribal cuisine, tribal experience.'

'But the decor, the waiters… Everything is dressed to the nines.'

'Remember what I said? It's all an ironic juxtaposition.'

'Right. I'm not very good at irony.' Despite the reassurance, using his fingers made him nervous. What if Thixl ran out of the kitchen and smacked his hand with a spatula? Technically, anything can happen in the name of irony.

Darshi gave him a suspicious glare as she scooped up the yellow jam. 'What are you giggling about?'

'Oh, it's nothing.' At least the thought was absurd enough to bolster his courage. He copied Darshi, taking a seared slice of scallop and covering it in yellow jam.

'This one is the wiscnie. Whisk-knee.'

Thank goodness Darshi was diligent enough to memorise the menu. And thoughtful enough to sound it phonetically for his pitiful human tongue. With a quick nod, they bit into it together.

The first discovery was the softness of the scallop; it broke apart in his mouth like butter. The jam, tangy and sour, reminded him of a sweeter lemon, although its colour may have influenced his perception. It wasn't overpowering, allowing the complimenting saltiness of the scallop to build as the initial sharpness dissipated, delighting his taste buds with an intriguing mix of flavours. Once he swallowed, a faint metallic earthiness lingered in his mouth.

'That bit of earthiness at the end.' Nathan pointed to the scallop. 'That's probably from the scallop. Thixl said they only eat minerals.'

Darshi nodded. 'Makes sense. Though I'm surprised how good it tastes with a diet like that.'

'Imagine being the first lizardfolk to venture ten kilometres underground only to find some scallops.'

'I can imagine a lot more terrifying possibilities, so I'd be quite relieved to only find more food.' Darshi scooped up the blue trail. 'Next up is suhwi. It's super-common, but it's a bit too bitter to have a market outside of Velvian.'

They were saving the rosy-red jam for last, it seemed. Having received two warnings as to the bitterness, Nathan braced himself as he covered his scallop slice in blue jam. The moment it hit his tongue, Nathan sat up straight, suddenly struck with a peppery zing. His tongue dried, but as he chomped at the scallop, its juices washed away some of the intense bitterness. Gradually, the initial punchiness faded, though the acidity remained long after he swallowed.

Trying to stifle a smile, Darshi asked, 'How is it?'

Nathan took a long sip of water before responding. 'Back when I was eight or nine, I went looking through our pantry for chocolate. I found something called cocoa powder. Being the smart kid I was, I knew chocolate was made from cocoa. So I had a giant spoonful… and then refused to eat chocolate for the next two months.'

'Where's this going?'

'The blue jam reminded me of that experience.'

'So… you liked it?'

'Sure, let's say that.'

'Don't worry.' She dabbed her last slice along the red streak. 'I saved the best for last. Zilzena was something of a legend before they had a way to crack them open consistently. My friend used to call it the Velvian version of ambrosia.'

Keen to replace the bitterness in his mouth with something more palatable, Nathan smeared his last piece of scallop through the red nectar and quickly bit into it. The flavour started soft, a whisper of sweetness filling his mouth. But as it idled on his tongue, its profile evolved. Combined with the colour, it brought to mind pomegranate mixed with gentle hues of honey, which was curious for the sole fact it lacked the expected viscosity. Instead, it flowed like decadently rich dessert wine. Rounding out the sweetness was a sprinkle of saltiness, fading as the scallop dissolved in his mouth.

He licked his lips with gusto, for it would be sacrilege to leave even a scrap of that heavenly sweetness unadmired. Still not satisfied with the yield of his lips — and despite Darshi watching — he rolled his finger through the rosy remnants on the plate and lapped it clean.

Of course, Darshi wouldn't leave such a slight unacknowledged. 'Weren't you the one freaking out about cutlery just moments ago?'

'When in Rome,' he said, going for another scoop. It was a convenient justification for further indulgence, and it seemed Darshi agreed; her own finger collected the leftover red from her side of the plate, coyly licking it off as Nathan watched on, amused.

With the red zilzena jam gone — and the blue suhwi anything but — Thixl returned to collect their plate. It was upon Thixl disappearing into the kitchen that Nathan recalled the earlier controversy with the imminent third course. It seemed he wasn't able to mask his unease, because Darshi spoke up.

'From what I've read, the next course tastes incredible.'

'But…?'

'But the presentation is… prone to shock.' A slight tremble to her voice, Darshi's eyes drifted away from Nathan.

That evasiveness only redoubled Nathan's concerns. 'You sound a tad nervous yourself.'

'I searched it up yesterday, thinking seeing it would help prepare me.' She huffed, looking down as she rubbed her claws together. 'Bad idea.'

Now he was very concerned. 'What's the dish called?'

'It's… celzidor ommatidia aspic.'

Well, that was a mouthful of near-gibberish. Only aspic carried any familiarity to him. It meant meat jelly, some sort of meaty dish encased in gelatin. The other two words likely referred to the meat encased within. Dare he ask, or just wait for the inevitable?

Perhaps he could trick himself into entering a sage-like zen. He really wanted to put it out of his mind, to wait in blissful ignorance. But despite all attempts to steel himself, the constant tapping of his foot against the floor wore down his nerves, like the ticking of a noisy clock.

No. There was no way he could stay in suspense; he had hyped himself, heeding hysteria, hearkening horror.

He had to ask. 'What's an ommatidia?'

'You know the compound eyes of an insect, with all the little hexagons? Those.'

'Wait.' Did he hear that right? 'You mean it's—'

'Esteemed guests.'

Both Nathan and Darshi jumped as Thixl spoke, having magically appeared right beside the table. He was much sneakier than his flashy blue scales gave credit for. He balanced a silver platter on his arm, its contents obscured by a simple lid.

'Tonight's third course', Thixl said, placing the platter onto the table, 'presents the savage celzidor to the unwary modern world. While its visage once brought unbridled dread to lizardfolk of Velvian, it now represents our triumph over the once untamed rainforest.'

Thixl lifted the lid. At a mere glimpse, it triggered something primal in Nathan. An acute burst of adrenaline. He gripped the tablecloth. His mouth parched in an instant.

The fight-or-flight jolt lasted just seconds. It ultimately amounted to nothing more than a fierce shiver, for the contents of the platter were — thankfully — long-since deceased.

The severed head heralded a long-lost memory, that of a zoomed-in fly from a highschool biology textbook. Albeit, the creature before them wasn't zoomed in — and there was only half a head. Straggly strands of black hair swept over the red of its eye, but no matter where Nathan directed his gaze, he couldn't escape the thousands of burning hexagons glinting back at him. Beneath a thin layer of jelly, the refracting light from those so-called ommatidia mesmerised him. A valley of misshapen eyes, blinking in unison.

Nathan managed to break away from their paralysing gaze, only for the rest of the creature's appearance to stab at his chest. Most terrifying was the beast's proboscis. More akin to a rapier, it stretched the length of his forearm. His skin itched.

This was no fly.

'A mosquito,' he said.

'Indeed, sir.' Thixl's voice stayed strong; it proved to be a calming presence. 'More accurately, the mosquito is its closest living genetic link.'

Even Darshi seemed unnerved, clutching the edge of the table. Mere pictures couldn't have prepared her for the real thing. A silence beset the table, one that Nathan desired distraction from, even if the interceding question was witless.

And so, he asked, 'Is it… dangerous?'

'Quite, sir.' Thixl gestured towards its proboscis. 'The celzidor is one of the few creatures of the Velvian rainforest capable of killing a lizardfolk. Its proboscis penetrates scales with ease, and a single jab can puncture through to the other side.'

'B-but… but it's safe to eat, right?' Darshi seemed unable to look away from the honeycomb-like eye.

'Yes, ma'am. A celzidor's eye is a savoury but difficult to prepare delicacy.' Thixl set down a plate and a sharp-edged, asymmetrical spoon in front of them both. 'To maintain its lacquered appearance and unique shape, the eye is cooked over a slow fire for many hours within an aspic mould. The solidified gel and encased eye melts in the heat of your mouth, releasing a broth of exquisite flavour.'

Thixl pulled an odd, sickle-shaped piece of silverware from his tuxedo pocket. He slowly cut through the centre of the eye. As it cleaved in two, the severed sides jiggled like… well, like jelly. He scooped out one half, placing the wobbling semicircle on Nathan's plate, before scrapping out the rest for Darshi. The hollowed-out eye socket only made the celzidor more grotesque, but Thixl promptly covered it with the silver lid and took it from the table.

'Sathje,' he said, leaving Nathan and Darshi to come to terms with what they were about to eat.

'Good luck' may have been a more fitting salutation. Despite their separation from the beast's head, the glistening array of hexagons left no doubt to what sat on his plate. As advertised, Aureate offered that coveted experience; where else could the food affect his heart much the same as an extreme sport?

Darshi prodded her serving with the tip of her spoon. 'Y-you first.'

It also offered a rare chance to prove his bravery. Wielding his sharpened spoon, he sliced through the red membrane and — once it broke off — closed his eyes and scooped the chunk into his mouth.

'W-whoa… you didn't even hesitate.'

The cold gel wobbled on his tongue as he flattened it against the roof of his mouth. As the outer shell of gelatin dissolved, hundreds of supple ridges rubbed over his tongue. Those, he thought, must be the hexagons, the ommatidia. They too softened as he rolled the glob around his mouth.

The flavour started bland, but as the morsel melted, a juicy broth swept over his tongue, a robust blend of flavours unlike anything he had ever experienced. Though savoury, there were hints of tender sweetness with a slightly grassy finish. It was something between lamb and beef, although the jelly-like texture was completely unlike either.

Even once the piece had liquefied, the flavour remained just as strong, as though the broth had soaked into his taste buds. Immediately, he cut another slice; those blood-red hexagons no longer registered as something ghastly.

'Jeez, slow down!' Darshi almost sounded impressed. 'Is it that good?'

Nathan took the next piece into his mouth before he could reply. An enthusiastic nod was all he could offer, but it was enough to give Darshi the moxie she needed to brave the first bite. Moments after the morsel disappeared into her mouth, her shoulders dropped. Her hand relaxed, finally pulling free of the tablecloth. She seemed to love it as much as him.

The two ate in silence, entranced by the bizarre meal. Though their portions were large, the eye was as light as water, and each bite left them hungry for more. Before long, Nathan cleared out his plate while Darshi savoured her last mouthful.

Nathan stared at the leftover crumbs — hexagonal blobs speckled about his plate. 'Why do they show it to you? If my stomach was any weaker, it might have ruined an excellent dish. And don't say it's part of the experience.'

Darshi swallowed her last mouthful, and then her maw widened into a smirk. 'It's part of the experience.'

'You know, you seemed a bit frightened yourself.'

'I was just scared for you, honey. What if you couldn't handle it?'

'Don't worry.' He touched his nose. 'Your secret's safe with me.'

'What secret?'

'That you begged for me to go first.'

Darshi's eyes narrowed. 'How about a second serving of suhwi, just for you?'

'God, no. I'll take more giant mosquitoes, thanks.'

Thixl returned to collect their plates, giving Nathan a subtle nod. As he returned to the kitchen, Nathan asked, 'What do you think they do with the leftover heads?'

'Incinerate them, hopefully.' Dashi cringed at the thought.

'Do you think we could buy ours? It might look good at home, mounted in the bedroom.'

'Try that, and I'll mount you right beside it.'

'Uh, phrasing?'

With the celzidor fading to a surprisingly pleasant memory, Thixl returned with their fourth and final course. Two golden stands — each a semicircle — suspended a round, fluffy cake several inches above the plate. The crispy shell shifted between three shades, cream gold at the bottom, and gentle brown near the top. As if it were moments away from eruption, the very top puffed out, steam rising in the dim light.

A striking contrast to the celzidor. In fact, the dish conflicted with every other course that evening by mere reason of its familiarity. From glowing mushrooms, to rarefied fruits, to a viscous insect — now down to a simple cake.

'Esteemed guests, your dessert for this evening is the three-layer sohlaedi lava cake. A decadent delight, its conception to birth has been five hundred years in the making.'

'Five hundred years?' said Nathan. 'For a cake? I'm surprised it hasn't burnt to a crisp.'

'Indeed, sir. While the cooking process is short and similar to other cakes, this dessert's special quality is its key ingredient — the sohlaedi bean. A close relative of the cacao bean, sohlaedi is a unique substitute for chocolate only found within the Velvian rainforest. However, unlike the cacao bean, the potency of sohlaedi beans dilutes as the tree ages. This dessert therefore celebrates three stages of the sohlaedi tree's life.'

Thixl gestured to the lowest segment of the lava cake, the lightest in colour. 'Near the end of their lifespan, sohlaedi trees around five hundred years old produce a weaker, lighter-coloured bean. These are melted down into a buttery, golden liquor, sharing the sweetness of caramel.'

He raised his claw to the cake's centre. 'The middle contains sohlaedi liquor from mid-aged trees, around two to three hundred years old. Their beans produce a richer, velvety cream, reminiscent of milk chocolate. And last, the top of the cake comprises sohlaedi beans at their earliest conception — five years after planting. The resulting liquor is darker, a roasted profile with strong notes of bitterness.'

Thixl reached into his tuxedo jacket, withdrawing an odd implement, a mix between an oversized knife and a two-pronged sabre. He held it beneath the cake, in the gap between the stands. The sabre glided through the crust, and as it parted, golden syrup flowed forth like a waterfall, pooling onto the plate.

As it spread, Thixl sliced open the next layer. A warm brown mixed with gushing gold, settling on the plate as a darker coating atop the lighter liquor. Then the last layer made way for the sabre, its molten contents dark like coffee, yet thick like honey. Even as it swirled onto the growing blend, no one colour yielded to the others; each liquor stayed separate as they bubbled over the plate in different directions, at most concealing the layer immediately underneath.

Thixl split the two halves of the lava cake, facing one to Nathan and the other to Darshi. Steam billowed forth from each, celebrating its newfound freedom. Here, Nathan admired the three clefts — five hundreds years spanning between them — as their dribbling contents merged into the three-layer waterfall pouring down before him.

Thixl gave his last bow. 'Sathje.'

It fell on deaf ears, for Nathan and Darshi had already pierced the fluffy shell with their forks. Nathan started with the top — the youngest layer. The soft shell melted in his mouth, and the hot liquor oozed over his tongue. While dark chocolate seemed the obvious comparison, it also had an unexpected smokiness and a lavish, savoury tang. Based on Thixl's presentation, sohlaedi liquor didn't appear to be diluted with additives like milk or sugar, which would explain its more full-bodied flavour compared to ordinary chocolate.

Next, he picked at the cake's centre. Milk chocolate was indeed an apt comparison; though lavishly thick and still packing quite a punch, it possessed a smoother, creamier taste than its darker counterpart.

The last portion — gleaming like honey — was the thickest of the lot. Like goo, it stuck to the sides of his mouth, needing many licks to fully swallow. The liquor had become salty in its old age, as do we all, though an underlying sweetness evoked memories of better times. Butterscotch; it matched its colour, after all. But a smoky tinge, like fire-roasted marshmallows, stirred something strange and primitive. The beans that made this liquor were older than his country. Older than modern civilisation.

As he ate, the cake gradually crumbled, and soon the layers mingled. Even then, each remained distinct on his tongue — in both flavour and thickness. Smitten, he ate without stopping, not for water, despite his drying mouth, nor to wipe his lips.

Both he and Darshi savoured the last few morsels, drenching them in the three-tone molten puddle that had pooled over the plate. But both the course and the night had to end. And with perfect timing; after that extravagant dessert, neither could fit another bite.

Small talk, laughter, and arguments over responsibility for the bill followed, though they eventually had to bid Aureate farewell. They left the restaurant, hand in hand — completely unprepared for the hardest trial of the night. The celzidor paled as against its accursed, gold-lit facade.

The stairs.

'I forgot this was waiting for us.' Nathan eyed Darshi, seeking much-needed emotional support.

She only offered a dry smile. 'Exercise after a meal is good for you.'

'You said the same thing earlier.'

'Because it's true.'

Nathan spun around the entrance hallway. 'Think they've got an elevator or something? You know, for the irony?'

'Not a chance.'

'In that case, how about your earlier offer?'

'Hm? What offer?' Darshi's face stayed firm; whether she was being coy or had genuinely forgotten, Nathan couldn't tell.

'You know… carrying me up.'

'Oh. That.' Darshi sighed, overdrawn and loud enough to travel all the way up the staircase; if only it were that easy for Nathan. She tsked, three times, and then said, 'Fine. Come here.'

With her size and strength, she lifted Nathan from the ground effortlessly, pulling him into her arms and cradling him against her chest.

'Let's hope no one's coming down the stairs.' She booped his nose. 'For your sake.'

'Yeah, I'd hate to make them jealous.'

'Hah.' She started up the steps. 'We're going to the gym tomorrow morning — no excuses.'

Nathan sucked in air. 'Can't do tomorrow.'

'I know you've got nothing planned.'

'I do, though — a little DIY project for the bedroom. Some wall decor.'

'I dare you.' She glared down at him. 'You know I'm a hundred percent serious about that threat, right?'

'God, I hope so.'