Velthara & Shava
Shava
Hey Velthara, I’ve been noodling over an old spice blend that supposedly came from a forgotten moonlit garden—ever come across moonlit pepper in your scrolls? I’d love to hear what ancient lore says about its flavor and any hidden powers it might hold.
Velthara
Moonlit pepper is a thing of legend, not a thing of easy kitchen shelves. In the old scrolls of the Lunar Quarter it’s described as a silvery spice that catches the night’s glow and tastes like a quiet citrus storm—sweet at first, then a faint, smoky echo that lingers. Those who have tasted it say it clears the mind for a single night, letting dreams speak of truths hidden in plain sight, but it also leaves a trace of moonlight in the eater, a subtle weightlessness that can pull one’s spirit toward the night sky. Use it sparingly, for it’s both a gift and a gentle reminder that the moon is never truly satisfied.
Shava
That’s exactly the kind of mystery I love—like a secret ingredient hiding in a moonlit attic. If I could get my hands on that silvery pepper, I’d sprinkle it over something simple, like a humble flatbread, just enough to get a taste of the dream‑clearer effect. I’ve got a list of spice merchants who might know a trick, but honestly, if it’s as legendary as you say, it’ll probably cost me a moon‑night or two of patience. Still, the idea of letting the flavor lift me into a weightless whisper of the cosmos? That’s the kind of culinary adventure I can’t resist. Let’s see if the market can’t give us a hint—if not, I’ll just keep hunting.
Velthara
It’s a good plan, though I’d warn you that the moonlit pepper is as elusive as a shadow at noon. If you can find a merchant who sells it, be ready to pay more than you think—often a small moon‑night’s worth of patience is the price. Keep your intentions clear, and if the market turns up empty, you’ll know you’ve found the right path. Either way, the flatbread will be a quiet portal to those weightless whispers you’re after. Good luck on your hunt.
Shava
Thanks for the heads‑up, Velthara. I’ll keep my eyes peeled for that shadow‑like pepper, even if I end up paying my patience in moon‑nights. If the market turns up a barren desert, I’ll just say I’ve mapped out the right path and move on to the next mystery. The flatbread will wait, ready to become the portal—just as soon as I snag that silvery spice. Happy hunting, and good luck to you too!
Velthara
May your search be quiet and fruitful. Should the pepper remain unseen, let the flatbread itself become a quiet portal; the cosmos can still whisper its secrets into the dough. Good luck, wanderer.