The town square buzzed like a beehive from dawn.
Bright banners fluttered, music drifted through the cool morning air, and vendors hurried to set up stalls piled with fruit, roasted meat, and pastries.
Luna practically vibrated with excitement as she adjusted her apron. "Chef! We got the center spot! The mayor himself said we're the festival's 'culinary highlight'!"
Maris looked unimpressed but couldn't hide her small smile. "That's because half the town threatened to boycott if you weren't invited."
Bruno let out a booming laugh as he carried two barrels of sauce. "Then let's make sure they don't regret it!"
Kiro followed behind, arms full of bread rolls. "I'll make sure nothing burns!"
Ethan stood at their new stall — a portable kitchen made of polished oak and brass, powered by a miniature version of the Infernal Stove. The golden flame hummed softly, reflecting in his calm eyes.
He glanced at the team. "Same rule as always — make food that speaks. Don't overthink it."
Luna saluted dramatically. "Yes, Captain Chef!"
Maris rolled her eyes. "You mean don't panic, Luna."
Ethan chuckled. "That too."
---
By mid-morning, the crowd swelled.
Children ran through the streets with candy sticks, merchants shouted prices, and the smell of grilled spices and baked apples filled the air.
At the Crescent Moon Inn stall, the first orders came fast.
"Two Flame-Fried Noodles!"
"Three Spirit Custards!"
"One Sunleaf Skewer, extra honey!"
Ethan's hands moved in rhythm — noodles sizzling, sauces bubbling, knives flashing. The Infernal Stove responded to every motion like it could read his intent.
Bruno flipped meat with precision, Mina adjusted the spice rack with surgical focus, and Kiro darted like lightning between them, delivering plates and refilling bowls.
Luna handled customers, smiling so brightly people forgot they were waiting.
Maris kept the books, the cash, and the chaos under control.
The stall glowed with life.
---
"Chef Ethan!" someone shouted.
Ethan looked up to see the mayor of Crescent Town — a round man with a thick mustache and the happiest eyes in the festival.
"My wife says your Frostvine Stew cured her bad mood for a week!" he laughed. "The town owes you a debt, my boy!"
Ethan smiled politely. "Then let me repay it with food."
He handed the mayor a bowl — steaming stew topped with soft bread and a drizzle of spirit butter.
The mayor took one bite, his eyes widening. "By the Spirits! It's like hugging my grandmother!"
The crowd erupted in laughter. Word spread fast, and suddenly, the line tripled.
---
Not far away, hidden in the shade of a balcony, Selene from the Spirit Guild observed quietly.
She wasn't alone this time. Beside her stood an older man — white-haired, dignified, and radiating quiet authority.
"So," the man said, watching Ethan's movements, "that's the chef causing such a stir."
Selene nodded. "He's not using any spells or channels. The Spirits follow him naturally."
The elder's gaze was sharp. "No one draws Spirit resonance without training. Unless…"
"Unless what?"
"Unless the Spirits choose him."
Selene's fingers tightened around the railing. "Then the Guild will want him."
The elder smiled faintly. "Want him? No. They'll need him."
---
Back at the stall, Luna's voice rose above the crowd. "We're out of noodles!"
Kiro panicked. "I can run to the pantry—"
Ethan stopped him. "No need. We'll switch dishes."
He reached for the nearest ingredients: rice flour, egg, and a basket of moon peppers.
Within seconds, his hands were moving — grinding, mixing, shaping.
"New dish," he said calmly. "Moon Pepper Pancakes. Let's show them something new."
The batter hit the pan with a sizzle.
The air filled with spice and warmth — a mix so intoxicating that people in nearby stalls turned to look.
Luna sniffed. "That smell— Chef, what is that?"
He flipped the pancake, the edge glowing faintly with golden light. "Breakfast with a heartbeat."
The first bite hit the crowd like magic. Soft, savory, slightly sweet, with a burst of heat that faded into warmth.
People cheered. "More! More!"
Mina grinned. "He's making legends out of leftovers."
Bruno laughed. "That's our Chef!"
---
Hours passed in a blur of color and sound.
Music played, dancers twirled, and the inn's stall never slowed down. Even the other chefs came by to watch Ethan work — half in awe, half in disbelief.
A traveling food critic approached near sunset, notebook in hand.
"Chef Ethan," she said seriously, "I've tasted every famous dish from Riverhold to Dusk Valley. Yours is… different. What's your secret?"
Ethan wiped his hands. "There isn't one."
"Then how do you make food taste like this?"
He smiled. "I listen. Every ingredient has something to say — I just make sure it's heard."
She stared for a long moment, then slowly smiled back. "You're going to change everything."
---
As night fell, lanterns lit up the square.
The last customers left happy and full, and the team finally slumped on the grass behind the stall, exhausted but glowing with pride.
Luna stretched her arms. "I can't feel my legs, but that was amazing."
Mina nodded. "We sold out everything. Even the emergency rice."
Kiro lay flat on the ground. "I think my soul's asleep."
Maris chuckled. "Worth it."
Ethan sat beside them, looking out at the lanterns floating into the sky. "We did well."
Bruno raised his mug. "To Crescent Moon Inn — may our bellies never be empty!"
They all cheered softly, laughing in the glow of the festival fires.
---
High above, Selene watched them from the balcony.
The elder beside her spoke quietly. "He's not ready for what's coming. But the world rarely waits."
Selene's eyes softened as she watched Ethan laugh with his team. "Maybe he doesn't need to be ready."
The elder turned away. "Then the world will test him soon enough."
---
Far below, Ethan gazed at the moon.
The Infernal Stove's portable flame flickered beside him, faintly pulsing like a heartbeat.
He whispered, "Thank you for today."
And in the faintest shimmer of golden light, the flame replied — gentle, alive.
To be continued...