"Extra points?" he inquires, almost unsure. "You mean"—he straightens his back and clears his throat—"I can earn extra points? Then I can be more than nice?"

I nod, my lips spreading into a genuine smile. Who said even Ze wasn't teachable? After I'm through with him, he'll be the nicest man ever.

"Yep. Every time you do something nice, you'll get extra points."

Excitement shines in his eyes, his mouth slowly curving into a smile.

"I do enjoy a challenge," he adds slowly.

I take another bite of chocolate as I gaze around to make sure we haven't forgotten anything. Then, both Ze and I resume our journey into the forest.

"Is it good?" he asks a few moments later. "That chocolate." He points to my hand.

"You've never had it?"

"I did once try that chocolate cake you have in your world," he recalls thoughtfully.

That's it? The only time he tried chocolate was back then? And not even by itself, but only as a cake? Somehow I find that hard to believe. He's over seven thousand years old, for God's sake. And clearly, chocolate exists in other worlds too. Why has he never tried it? It's just odd.

But then again, when is Ze not odd...

"Ze, what the hell do you usually eat?" I ask him.

A look of panic crosses his face.

"I eat," he quickly adds in a defensive tone. "I have a strict regimen... because I am a soldier."

I watch him from the corner of my eye. No doubt his menu is just as dry as his empty very expensive palace.

"Well, allow me to awaken your taste buds," I declare, handing him the last square. "Come on. Try it. Cake has nothing on pure chocolate."

He's skeptical as he stares at the chocolate square. Using his other hand, he breaks the square in two, popping the first half in his mouth.

I surreptitiously watch for the play of emotions on his face. At first, he frowns, his jaw working as he munches on the chocolate. His tongue darts out to lick his teeth, his expression one of contemplation. Still, there are the small signs. The way his eyes flicker in surprise or how his lips smack together as he searches for more of the flavor. Finally, his Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows, a low, guttural sound escaping him.

"So?" I ask, eagerly awaiting the verdict.

"You may have the other half," he says, dropping the last bit of chocolate in my hand.

"That bad?" I sigh. Although I'm happy to have the other half, I'd still secretly hoped he'd like it—at least to have some sweetness in his life since it seems so utterly bare. Alas, if he doesn't like it, then maybe I should think of something else he'd like. He needs that—to unwind and enjoy life.