"Make your old man proud."

Archie nodded to his father. Power surged through him as his hands prickled with essence. People screamed and ran all around him, the late summer sun beating down on the chaos.

He recalled the feeling of blueberries. The heat took him back to the days of blueberry picking with Nori. He remembered the licertes. How they had charged at him. He cut the memory short of his suffering, skipping ahead to the cure. The Bhantla had healed his leg. Essence flowed freely through him, more powerful than ever.

Parents pulled their children close as horses marched through the streets.

Archie shaped his essence while thinking of the taste of blueberries. A little sweetness. A little tartness. A subtle acidity. He found the balance. Next, he found the texture. The leathery skin. The gentle plushness. The juice inside. He focused his mind on the juice, imagining it exploding.

A group of kids fled in terror. "Monster! Monster!" they screamed.

That's what he needed. Explosions. Nothing else would serve him. All of his training had led him here. One crucial moment. The people of Sain were depending on him. He could not let them down. The blueberries formed in his hands, ready to burst.

He threw them as hard as he could into the sky.

Poppoppoppop!

The blueberries burst like fireworks, trailing tendrils of juice dissipating before reaching the celebrating crowd below. Children jumped and clapped and cheered. Archie loosed another volley of blueberries, their crackling pops serving as the preluding drumroll to a group of trumpeters that began playing the traditional song of the Festival of Ambrosia.

Archie laughed as a group of kids threw pebbles at a marshmallow golem that stalked them through the street. The creation was like a snowman, stacks of marshmallows making lumpy legs like a baby's. It shrank as it walked, leaving behind sticky goop in its footsteps.

The kids ran up to Archie. "Save us! Save us!"

He conjured more blueberries—this time with significantly less pop to them—and gave them to the kids. They threw the blueberries at the marshmallow golem, putting dents in its soft flesh and painting it blue. Across the street, a Blue Jacket twisted a lump of marshmallow in his hands, making the golem raise its arms in silent agony. The kids laughed and ran off.

Archie turned to Blanche with a grin. She smiled back, sending something other than essence jolting through Archie. She pushed him toward the street. "Go join the parade!"

Archie fell in line behind the trumpeters, waiting until key moments in the music to throw blueberries that popped like firecrackers. Blanche sat on the ground and conjured flowers of blue and red and yellow that rippled through the street, blossoming wherever Archie walked.

The flowers grew taller and more vibrant and the crowd grew more dense and rowdy as Archie neared the center of Sain. He stepped from a compacted dirt road to a freshly cobbled one, the flowers blooming between the cracks in the stone. All of the carpenters of Sain had joined together, working from dawn until dusk and then some, making sure that the town square was deserving of its new guest.

A sapling, no more than five feet tall but growing by the day, stood in a dirt patch across from Petrichor. The trunk was thin and crooked and shone with a dull gold as if it had caught the sunlight. Its leaves were like that of a magnolia tree, big and sparse, only two to a branch. It was the village's pride and joy. A new start. A future.

The Tamani tree made the air around it fuller. The soil of its garden had already become saturated with essence. And it had made the village a place of hope. Every night, all over Sain, from Simeon's pigsty to Jark's workshop to Boyan's pottery, families sat for supper and shared their dreams. In the mornings, they prayed around the tree for the children of the village to become Chefs. They brought meals to Blanche to thank her for her part in growing the tree. She nourished it less and less each day, claiming that it needed to learn to grow on its own. She had some communion with the tree, always knowing its needs.

A dozen Platterian Chefs had come to see the tree, some to study it, some just to appreciate it. Some wanted to take samples, but fortunately, one of the first Chefs on the scene had been Head Chef Anise. Her status—and her threats—had kept other Chefs at bay long enough to convince the lord mayor of Sain to make a decree that tampering with the tree was an imprisonable offense and that no samples were to be removed from the village. Archie commented that the essence would have no effect outside of Sain anyway. Tamani had allowed them to use her essence for a sole purpose. It would not bend to any other.

With great Chefs came great feasts, but with great feasts came Gluttons. Four had arrived over the week. Arty had prepared to deny service to any that came to Petrichor, but none did. None came to the tree either. It was anathema to them. For as much as they loved to consume essence, it was of too pure form in the Tamani tree. They steered clear of the town square, much to the pleasure of Archie.

But not all villagers shared Archie's disdain of the Gluttons. Many were poor, living off the meager scraps that the diminished essence of the village allowed, and so the Gluttons represented great business opportunities. Every craftsman put their expertise into creating something to pawn off on the Gluttons. And the Gluttons bought it all. They had the money and, after days of feasts, the mood. They adorned their carriages with gaudy ornaments and filled the cabins and trunks with ceramics and glassware and furs. The least skilled villagers of Sain pillaged their own homes to sell things at twice their worth. The most fortunate were the tailors, who made suits that were five times the size and ten times the price.

Interestingly, the Gluttons did not come out for the festival. Despite streets filled with rows of food stands, they stayed out of sight in their rented cottages.

Not that Archie had any complaints about that.

He threw an extra bunch of blueberry fireworks into the sky to celebrate the Gluttons' absence. The Tamani tree seemed to pulse with excitement as the parade passed. A little bud at the end of a branch unfurled, a hand-sized leaf growing in just a few seconds to soak up the festivities. People pointed and cheered as the leaf took on a golden shimmer. Archie peeked into Petrichor as he went past. His mother ran between tables that overflowed with out-of-towners that wanted to eat across from the Tamani tree.

A Peintrissier from Labrusca used essence to color flour on a canvas, painting the Tamani tree with Petrichor in the background. Another Chef gave two kids a single piece of taffy. They ran away from each other, stretching the candy to nearly fifty feet before it finally broke and shrank to a single bite in each of their fingers. Anise had a group of kids step into sponge cakes that stayed firm around their feet like shoes and gave them the ability to bounce into the air.

Archie broke away from the parade and went to the community kitchen. A scrawny little girl with half her milk teeth missing struggled to shake a wok that was as big as she was. Archie ran over to help but remembered not to touch the wok. He was an adult now. And during the Festival of Ambrosia, adults had to guide with a soft touch. He reached up in the cabinets and pulled out an appropriately sized wok.

"Here, try using this."

Archie resisted grabbing the larger wok as the girl poured its contents into the smaller one.

"What are you making?"

"Fried rice."

"Oh. It looks good. What'd you make it with?"

The girl giggled. Archi could see how much it meant to her to have a Chef compliment her work. "I used green onion, eggs, and soy sauce."

"Any oil?"

"Sesame."

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"Good choice." Archie laughed as she shook the rice in the wok. "Why'd you decide to make fried rice?"

"Because it's easy," she giggled.

"Well, do you like it?"

"Kinda."

"What's your favorite food?"

The girl needed no time to think about it. "Ketchup," she declared.

Archie laughed and wondered if that qualified as an answer. "Put ketchup in it, then."

"Wait, you can do that?"

"Sure you can. Do you know how to make ketchup?"

The girl shook her head.

"Here, it's a lot of ingredients, but it's easy to cook. I'll get everything together for you and then you can cook it, okay?"

"Okay!"

Archie dug through the kitchen and poured ingredients into little ramekins. There was tomato paste and vinegar and sugar and molasses and onion powder and garlic powder and mustard seeds and salt, all measured for the girl's convenience.

"I want you to throw all of that in a pot and cook it. Just stir it every few minutes. Once it looks like ketchup, you have ketchup!"

"How much do I put in the rice?"

"As much as you want!"

The girl giggled.

"Archie?" another boy asked. He was on the verge of tears. "I accidentally put too much lemon juice…"

Archie hopped over to him with a grin. "Don't worry! Add some sugar. And keep stirring so it doesn't burn."

"Like this?"

"Yeah! Keep it up. Anyone else need help?"

Archie turned to see three kids raising their hands. "Me! Me! Me!"

He laughed as he went from one to the other, fixing problems that seemed trivial to him now but had been otherworldly challenges when he was their age. He remembered the stress. The anticipation. Just waiting for something. Anything. Any magic at all. That sign from Ambrosia that he'd get to live every little kid's dream of being a Chef. The thought of how far he had come would have made him cry if he wasn't so happy helping the next generation.

"Archie," Blanche called from the doorway. "Come watch the end of the parade with me."

Archie looked around the kitchen. "Oh, I dunno Blanche. I kinda wanna stay here and help."

"Aww. Such a sweetie." Blanche scrunched her red lips up in a tight little smile. "But you have to let them find their own way. Come on."

"Alright." Archie turned to the kids. "Just run out and yell for me if you need anything."

Archie walked out, looking back at just the right moment to give himself an excuse to not grab Blanche's outstretched hand. The last time he had taken it, she didn't let go for nearly half an hour. It was strangely intimate. He imagined it was more intimate than a kiss—not that he knew what that felt like.

It wasn't that he didn't like it. It was just…new. Growing up, he only ever had a fleeting interest in girls. He knew he'd break their hearts when he left to go be a Chef in Ambrosia City. He didn't want anyone giving him a reason to not fulfill his destiny. Even once he got to Ambrosia City, he had been too focused—too naive. He wondered if he had been a more well-adjusted kid if he would have dated Nori.

Then he felt guilty for thinking about Nori while walking with Blanche.

Then he felt weird for feeling guilty. What did he have to feel guilty about? Nori was a friend, and Blanche was…well, they hadn't discussed that yet. He avoided looking at her, hoping that if his cheeks were turning red that he could blame it on the heat. So much heat. He was drenched in sweat. Blanche was too. He looked over and watched a drop trickle down her neck to her…

He thought about Anise. Her wrinkled cheeks. Her wild eyes. The strange smells that lingered on her after her experiments.

His heart calmed down to a normal pace.

"You were cute in there, helping those kids," Blanche said.

Archie's heart sped back up. But somewhere along the way of his three near-death experiences, he had learned to keep his composure. "I'm cute everywhere."

"True."

It sped up more. He needed to change the subject. Something neutral. Something…

"What was your manifestation like?" he asked.

"Uhh, I was…fourteen." Blanche brushed her beautiful, long brown bangs from her striking black eyebrows. Her face still had some red from their days in the Khalyan sun. "I was cooking garlic. It was a little old. You know, when the sprout starts growing from the clove?"

"Yeah."

"Well, I was just starting. I was going to make bolognese. That's what my sister made when she manifested. So I put the garlic in, and it had that little sprout, and then the sprout started growing. Like, fast. In like, half a minute, it grew another bunch of garlic. And then that one started growing. And then that one started growing."

"Infinite garlic." Archie grinned. "You'd be a hit in Labrusca."

"And you made infinite water. I wonder if that's…You know. Compatibility."

Blanche gave Archie a lingering look. He found it easier to stare into the sun. They walked over to Petrichor and sat in a pair of outside chairs. They watched the parade until a couple of people came up to ask Blanche about the tree. Her story took them back to the cave in Khala, and soon, an entire crowd of people stood around Archie and Blanche, listening to their story.

In the cheerful screams of the parade, one girl's shrill cry rang out above the rest. The girl from the kitchen came running through the street with her wok, the rice popping into popcorn.

"Magic! Magic!" the crowd cheered, drawing everyone to watch. The girl screamed with every pop, the poor thing was so overwhelmed. But there was happiness in her overwhelmed tears. Her gap-toothed smile shone as bright as the Tamani tree as popcorn exploded out of the rice. She spotted Archie and ran to him.

"What do I do?!" she cried.

Archie laughed and caught a piece of popcorn as it flew from the wok. He popped it in his mouth and took a delicious bite. "You eat it!"

The girl gave up on trying to catch a piece in midair and set the wok on the ground. The popping stopped.

"Pick it back up!"

The girl clenched her teeth and let out a nervous squeal before grabbing it again. The moment her hand touched the handle, the popping resumed.

"Two Chefs in two years," someone cried from the crowd. "We're blessed again."

The crowd echoed her, claiming that the eyes of Ambrosia were on them again and that this was their redemption and that Sain would become the capital of the world. People poured out from Petrichor to watch the spectacle. Adeline poked her head out just long enough to affectionately grab her son's shoulder before going back to the kitchen.

Like the grand finale of a fireworks show, the popcorn doubled and tripled and flew high into the air as it popped. Without thinking about it, Archie let his dangling arm swing over to Blanche's and grabbed the edge of her hand. She opened her hand up wide and covered his. Archie squeezed her soft palm near the thumb.

He let go when he saw his father running up.

"Another Chef!" Arty cheered. He grabbed Archie's shoulder and shook him. "And so young! She'll be performing magic at the next ten festivals before setting off!"

"It's great," Archie said.

"You feel it, don't you?" Arty looked up at the pink sky and sighed. "The town. It's coming back to life. You did it, Archie."

Archie shifted in his seat. "Well…I don't know that I did it…It certainly wasn't just me."

"Yeah," Blanche said with a mischievous grin. "I did most of the work."

"That's true," Arty laughed. "Everyone's going to miss you when we leave."

"We?" Archie asked.

"Yeah. I'm going with you."

Archie turned, his expression a mixture of shock and confusion. "What? Why?"

Arty tapped the black stripes on his orange jacket. "I think it's about time I got my yellow jacket, don't you?"

"You're taking the test?" Archie grinned. Arty had dropped out of the Academy and had never gone back to test for a higher jacket. For twenty years, he had stayed the lowest rank. Now, he had shown so much skill that Archie thought it was a shame that someone could only rank up once per year.

"Yeah," Arty grinned back. "We can be testing buddies."

Archie laughed at the joyous thought of going through the exams with his father. "I'd love that! Of course, only if you're gonna be okay getting second place."

Arty raised his eyebrows twice. "We'll see. Hey, what do you want to eat for your birthday?"

Archie turned back to watch the crowd scoop popcorn off the ground. "Popcorn."

"Popcorn it is."

"I'm gonna make something," Blanche said.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. You're gonna like it." Blanche tilted her head down and gave Archie a look that he was not entirely comfortable receiving in the company of his father. Fortunately, the Peintrissier interrupted the moment by running up, carrying two canvases.

"Hello, hello," he said in a thick Labruscan accent. "I've painted these two. I will take one back to Toral. I thought I should leave the other with you."

He turned the canvas around to reveal it. Blanche gasped with joy and Archie's heart filled to the brim.

The painting had been made with two subjects in mind. In the foreground, the Tamani tree was portrayed in exquisite detail, every little crook in each branch perfectly documented. He even managed to get the light sheen of the trunk. The sides of the canvas were filled with a crowd that managed to portray joy and warmth despite their blurred faces. And then there was the second subject. Against the backdrop of Petrichor and painted with great clarity, Archie and Blanche recognized themselves sitting outside, holding hands, and watching a little girl waving around a wok with exploding popcorn.

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