Rayan helped Lina with her luggage. A modest bundle of clothes, a few books, and the beginner's wand he had given her were all she carried. Yet, despite the simplicity, her expression was glowing with anticipation and nerves.
They walked together through the busy streets toward the towering spires of Arkwyn Academy. The building loomed proudly against the horizon, its white stone walls and carved arches reflecting the sunlight. Groups of new students crowded near the gates, some laughing excitedly, others pale with anxiety. Carriages bearing noble crests rolled in one after another, dropping off their young heirs.
Among them, Lina looked humble in her plain dress, but Rayan saw something in her that the others lacked quiet strength.
When they reached the dormitory steps, she turned to him, gripping her bundle tighter. "Thank you for everything, Rayan. Without you, I… I wouldn't even be standing here."
He smiled faintly, trying to keep his tone casual. "Study well. Make the most of this chance. I'll handle things outside, so don't worry about that."
Lina nodded, her eyes soft with gratitude. She hesitated a moment before heading up the stairs, then disappeared into the girls' dormitory.
Rayan stood there for a breath longer, watching until the door closed. Then he turned away and headed down the road toward the restaurant.
By the time he arrived, the kitchen was already alive with noise. Pots clattered, steam rose in thick clouds, and the air was heavy with the mingling scents of roasting meats and stewing vegetables. Rayan tied his apron tightly and slipped into the rhythm of work, chopping herbs, stirring pots, carrying trays, and stepping into the dining hall whenever needed.
It was a familiar cycle now his daily routine, demanding yet steady. He found an odd comfort in the rhythm, each task grounding him in the present.
But just as the lunch crowd swelled, the owner barged into the kitchen, his face pale with worry. "Rayan! Do you know a dish called Golden Heron Stew?"
Rayan froze mid-motion, knife hovering above the cutting board. "Golden Heron Stew?" he repeated cautiously.
The owner nodded frantically. "Yes, yes! One of the customers is asking for it. He's a nobleman I can't afford to tell him no! I don't even know how to make it. Do you?"
Rayan set down the knife, wiping his hands on his apron. He dug into his memory, the taste of a dish he had once seen at the Sunreign manor flashing across his mind. The recipe wasn't one he'd ever mastered, but he recalled the ingredients and the process well enough.
"I… can try," he admitted slowly. "But I can't promise it'll turn out exactly right."
The owner clapped his shoulder in relief. "That's enough! Just make it quick. If he leaves unhappy, we're doomed."
Rayan moved swiftly, gathering what he needed tender cuts of poultry, fresh herbs, carrots, onions, and the special wine that gave the dish its golden hue. The kitchen quieted slightly as the other cooks paused to watch him. His movements carried a practiced rhythm, not flashy but confident.
The pot hissed when the meat hit the pan. He deglazed it with wine, letting the aroma fill the air, then layered in the herbs and vegetables. Soon, the stew simmered to a rich, golden broth that glistened under the kitchen lanterns.
When the bowl was set before the noble, the man raised an eyebrow but said nothing, spooning it with measured grace. Silence fell as everyone in the restaurant held their breath. Then, slowly, the nobleman smiled.
"Well done," he said, his voice carrying enough weight to ease the tension in the entire room. "It tastes… authentic. My compliments."
He left shortly after, placing a generous tip on the table.
Back in the kitchen, the owner exhaled deeply, wiping sweat from his brow. He looked at Rayan with wide eyes, half astonished, half relieved. "I can't believe that worked… Rayan, where in the world did you learn to cook like that? That's not an ordinary dish it's a noble's delicacy. Only chefs from noble households know it."
Rayan paused, his hand tightening slightly on the ladle. His mind flickered back to his time at the Sunreign estate, watching the cooks prepare lavish banquets he was never invited to enjoy. He had memorized recipes quietly, absorbing skills in silence, as he had done with so many things in life.
He looked away, his voice low. "…Something like that."
The owner tilted his head, curiosity brimming, but didn't press. Instead, he clapped Rayan on the back with a grin. "Well, whatever your past, you saved us today. And that noble's tip covered half a day's earnings. From now on, if customers ask for special dishes, I'll leave it to you."
Rayan managed a small smile, though inside, the memory of his old life burned faintly, both bitter and warm.
As he returned to his station, resuming his steady rhythm in the kitchen, he thought of Lina, already beginning her new chapter at the academy. She would be training among the noble-born, wielding her magic with a wand he had given her.
And he, too, was finding his own path, not as a noble, not as a crest-bearer, but as something else entirely.