The scent of spiced sugar and buttery pastry hung heavy in the air as Sanne stood frozen at the entrance of the Magistrate's Grand Bakery Hall.
Inside, hundreds of ovens roared with magical fire, enchanted mixers spun on their own, and crystal jars filled with glowing ingredients floated above long, polished counters.
Sanne tugged nervously at her apron.
"I… I don't belong here," she whispered to herself.
"Too late to turn back now," Flan said, perched on her shoulder. "You've been chosen for the Recipe Trials. If you fail, you're out of Crumora. If you succeed…"He grinned wickedly.
"…you might just get to keep breathing."
Sanne swallowed hard. "Comforting."
The Rival Arrives
Before Sanne could respond, a hush fell over the hall.From the far end, a tall, elegant woman approached, her heels clicking sharply against the sugar-dusted floor. She had sleek black hair tied into a precise twist and wore an apron embroidered with silver thread.
Daria Whisk.
Flan leaned close and whispered,
"Master Crust's favorite student. The undefeated champion of the Recipe Trials. If anyone can crush you into crumbs, it's her."
Daria stopped in front of Sanne, her icy blue eyes sweeping her from head to toe. A smirk curled on her lips.
"Another Earth baker?" Daria's voice dripped with disdain. "How quaint. Do you even know how to whisk a spell-flour without exploding your dough?"
Sanne straightened, hiding her trembling hands behind her apron.
"I can bake just fine, thank you."
Daria arched an eyebrow.
"We'll see. I hope you're ready to lose… gracefully."
The Trial Begins
A deep voice boomed from the center of the hall.Master Crust stepped forward — tall, broad-shouldered, with hair the color of burnt caramel and a face as stern as a granite oven door.
"Welcome to the Recipe Trials," he announced. "Today's challenge is simple: create a pastry using the Ingredient of Fate."
At his signal, shimmering jars floated down from the ceiling, each containing a pulsing golden fruit.
Flan gasped.
"Is that… a Solberry?!"
Sanne blinked. "What's a Solberry?"
Flan whispered quickly,
"It blooms once every hundred years under starlight. Mix it wrong and it turns your dough into a brick. Mix it right and your pastry sings — literally."
Sanne's palms sweated. Singing pastries? Exploding dough? No pressure.
Magic Meets Technique
The countdown began.
"Three… Two… One… Bake!"
Daria moved with effortless precision, swirling enchanted cream into a perfect spiral while her dough kneaded itself with a flick of her wand.
Sanne stared at her counter, panicking. No wand. No magical tools. Just her hands.
"Think, Sanne," she muttered. "Recipes first. Always recipes."
She carefully sliced the Solberry, releasing a burst of golden mist that smelled like honey and sunlight. She mixed it into her dough, relying on instinct, muscle memory, and her grandmother's teachings.
Flan zipped around her head.
"Not too much sugar! And clockwise folds, not counterclockwise! Unless you want your oven to — oh no, too late!"
Suddenly, Sanne's dough shuddered. Tiny sparks flew off its surface, and for a terrifying moment, she thought it might explode.
She closed her eyes, steadied her breathing, and whispered her grandmother's mantra:
"Slow hands, warm heart. The dough always listens."
Miraculously, the dough calmed. It began to glow softly, a sign she'd balanced the magic just right.
The Result
Time was called.
Daria presented a flawless, multi-layered Solberry Mille-Feuille crowned with spun sugar shaped like phoenix wings. The judges gasped in admiration.
Sanne placed her own creation before them — a simple, rustic Solberry Tart, its crust golden, its filling bubbling with a faint, magical hum.
Master Crust sliced into it, lifted a bite, and paused as the tart began to sing — a soft, soothing lullaby, like warm sunlight on a spring morning.
Silence fell. Then, slowly, the stern mentor smiled.
"Imperfect… but alive."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Even Daria's confident smirk faltered.
A Spark of Rivalry
After the trials, Daria approached Sanne, her expression unreadable.
"Beginner's luck," she said coldly. "But next time, I won't go easy on you."
Sanne smiled faintly, newfound confidence flickering in her chest.
"Good. Neither will I."
Flan groaned dramatically.
"Great. Now she's got a rival. Just what we needed."
Sanne didn't know it yet, but this first magical bake-off had just changed her destiny.For better… or for worse.