The sun had dipped just past its zenith when Clarisse finally stood, stretching her arms with a content sigh. "That's enough for today, Baker. You've got a natural flow — steady and calm. You'll make a fine healer if you keep at it."
Baker wiped the light sweat from his brow, still feeling the faint warmth of mana in his palms. He'd managed to maintain the healing glow for nearly half a minute before it faded, and his chest still thrummed with quiet excitement.
"Thank you, Aunt Clarisse," he said sincerely. "I'll practice every day."
She smiled warmly. "That's what I like to hear."
As they walked back through the courtyard, the evening bells chimed from the manor's clock tower. Baker blinked, realization dawning on him.
"Oh no — it's almost supper!"
Clarisse tilted her head. "Supper?"
He turned toward the kitchen with a grin. "I have to prepare something special for you!"
Before she could reply, Baker darted off down the hall, his footsteps echoing. Clarisse laughed softly behind him. "He's got his mother's energy and his father's passion," she murmured.
---
The Kitchen
The manor kitchen buzzed with movement — pots simmering, knives clinking, and the scent of roasting herbs filling the air. The junior chefs were halfway through prepping side dishes when Baker burst in, tying his apron on mid-run.
"Sorry, everyone! Change of plans — I'm preparing something new tonight!" he announced.
The head chef, a burly man named Henri, chuckled. "The young master strikes again. What's on the menu, lad?"
Baker grinned. "Mandearoz stew — a special recipe for my aunt."
Before he could gather ingredients, a small yelp echoed from one of the junior chefs. A boy around Baker's age had nicked his finger while chopping vegetables, crimson welling up quickly.
"Ah— sorry! It's nothing, I'll wrap it up—"
"Wait," Baker said gently, stepping forward. He extended his hand, mana forming like soft green mist between his fingers.
The young chef blinked in surprise as the light settled over his cut. A faint warmth pulsed, and the bleeding slowed, then stopped entirely — the skin knitting back together seamlessly.
"Wh… what—?"
Baker smiled, a little proud. "Basic healing magic. Aunt Clarisse just taught me."
The kitchen went quiet for a moment before Henri barked a laugh. "Hah! A cook and a healer? You'll put us all out of work someday, lad."
Baker rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Let's just make something good for everyone first."
---
Mandearoz Stew
He began by slicing thick cuts of Mandearoz venison — the crimson meat marbled with streaks of gold-tinted fat that melted beautifully under heat. He seared them in a cast-iron pot with a touch of goldenroot oil until each cube was crisp on the outside and tender within, releasing a deep, rich aroma that filled the kitchen.
Next, he added diced glowcarrots, sunpotatoes, and chopped leaffennel — herbs that released a light citrusy scent as they hit the sizzling pan. Steam hissed, carrying warmth and spice through the air.
Then came the stock — a broth made from slow-simmered clucker bones and essence of sweet moss. He poured it carefully, watching it bubble into a rich golden-brown stew.
As it thickened, Baker crushed a few herbs between his fingers — the same ones he'd experimented with the night before — and sprinkled the fine powder into the pot. A swirl of green-gold energy shimmered faintly over the surface.
The faint pulse of his Chef God's Blessing resonated through his fingertips. Mana flowed softly into the dish, enhancing the aroma and infusing the stew with warmth that reached the soul.
"Almost done…" he murmured, tasting the broth with a spoon. "Perfect balance."
---
Dinner Time
When dinner was served, Clarisse, Ventis, Melody, and the household gathered at the long table. The rich scent of the Mandearoz stew drifted across the room, immediately catching everyone's attention.
Clarisse leaned forward, intrigued. "That smell… is this what you were working on?"
Baker nodded proudly. "Mandearoz stew — for you, Aunt Clarisse."
He ladled the stew into deep bowls — each one filled with golden broth, tender meat, and glowing vegetables that shimmered faintly with mana. The first spoonful melted smoothly in the mouth, savory and deep, with just a hint of sweetness.
Clarisse took a sip — and blinked. The warmth that spread through her chest wasn't just flavor. It was mana — calm, harmonious, nourishing.
"This… this has divine energy," she said softly, astonished.
Ventis smiled knowingly. "Baker's blessings awakened recently."
Clarisse set her spoon down, eyes glimmering with admiration. "Then this is his first divine dish. Incredible."
Baker beamed, cheeks flushed with pride. "It's only thanks to everything you taught me today. I wanted to make something that felt… healing."
Clarisse reached over and patted his shoulder gently. "Then you succeeded, my dear nephew. This meal could warm even the weariest traveler's heart."
---
As laughter and conversation filled the dining hall, Baker sat back, feeling a deep contentment stir in his chest. Between magic, family, and cooking — for the first time since his reincarnation, it all felt perfectly in harmony.