The Culinary Guild - Morning

"It looks a lot less scary in the morning light," Marron whispered to Mokko, who was carrying a sleepy Lucy in her jar. It didn't matter whether they were walking or traveling on a vehicle--the little slime could sleep through anything in there.

They walked through the entrance, Marron pulling her cart in tow. And for the first time, she didn't feel like an intruder. She was a chef who prefered to travel instead of staying in one place for the rest of her career.

Marron nervously followed the signs pointing to the specialization class board in the main hallway. It looked like an aesthetic wire frame covered in dozens of papers and announcements. To Marron, it seemed impossible for so many papers to stick onto the wire frame.

But when she looked closer, each paper looked delicate, like edible wafer paper.

A red-haired human girl grabbed one of the papers and looked at the dates. "Hmm...expired. Means only one thing to do~"

She popped it in her mouth and ate the entire ad.

"Wha--"

The girl looked at Marron with some guilt, like she'd been doing something naughty. "Technically we aren't supposed to do that, but it's really good."

"So they're edible?"

"Down to the ink," the girl said as she swallowed the paper ad. "written with enchanted chocolate. Most things are edible here."

Marron giggled and Mokko sniffed at the sheets of paper. "They aren't even using pins or anything to stick on it. It just does."

"Fully edible ads," the girl said happily. "created by one of our upperclassmen. You're gonna love it here!"

Before Marron could reply, she disappeared down the hall labeled "Marzipan Class."

She stared at the different classes listed, organized by category:

PROTEINS:

Advanced Poultry Techniques (Chef Henrik - Tuesdays/Thursdays) Butchery & Meat Fabrication (Master Grenn - Mondays) Seafood Mastery (Chef Cordelia - Wednesdays)

BAKING & PASTRY:

Artisan Bread-Making (Baker Therese - Mon/Wed/Fri) Advanced Pastry (Chef Lucien - Tuesdays) Confectionery & Candy-Making (Maestra Vivienne - Thursdays)

SPECIALTY:

Fermentation & Preservation (Chef Yuki - Fridays) Sauce Foundations (Chef Bernard - Wednesdays) Plating & Presentation (various instructors - ongoing)

Marron's eyes locked on two listings immediately:

Advanced Poultry Techniques - Chef Henrik

Learn to break down whole chickens, master various cooking methods, and create dishes that showcase chicken as the star ingredient. Certification candidates welcome.

Next session starts: This Tuesday, 9am

Confectionery & Candy-Making - Maestra Vivienne

From simple caramels to complex bonbons. Learn tempering, sugar work, and how to create treats that delight. All skill levels welcome.

Next session starts: This Thursday, 2pm

Perfect. Both classes started this week.

"Found what you're looking for?" a voice asked.

Marron turned to find a tall elven woman with sharp features and sharper eyes looking at her. She wore a pristine white chef's coat with gold buttons—clearly a senior Guild member.

"Yes," Marron said. "I'm interested in the poultry class and the candy-making one."

"Both good choices. Henrik's tough but excellent, and Vivienne is a master—trained in the old candy houses of the eastern kingdoms." The elf studied her. "You're new. Just certified?"

"Last week."

"Congratulations." The elf's expression softened slightly. "A word of advice: the specialization classes are where you really learn your craft. The certification proves you have the fundamentals. These classes teach you how to excel."

"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

"Also—" The elf glanced around, then lowered her voice. "If you're planning to explore the upper districts, be prepared. The restaurant people can be... intense. They take their reputations very seriously, and they're not always kind to newcomers."

Marron felt her defensive walls start to rise. "I can handle—"

"I'm not saying you can't," the elf interrupted gently. "I'm saying be ready for it. But since you earned your certification, it shouldn't be a problem. They respect credentials, even if they don't respect much else." She smiled slightly. "Wear your pin. That'll help."

"Pin?"

"Your Guild pin. They should have sent it to your lodging by now. Check with your innkeeper."

Before Marron could ask more questions, the elf nodded politely and walked away, leaving her standing in front of the board with more questions than answers.

Pin?

The Lumeria Inn - Late Morning

When Marron returned to the inn, the owl innkeeper—a dignified avian woman named Hestia who ran the place with quiet efficiency—was waiting at the front desk.

"Ah, Miss Louvel," Hestia said, her large amber eyes brightening. "Perfect timing. This arrived for you this morning." She produced a small parcel wrapped in white paper and sealed with the Guild's golden crest.

Marron took it carefully. It was light, no bigger than her palm.

"What is it?"

"Open it and see," Hestia said with what might have been a smile—it was hard to tell with a beak.

Marron unwrapped the paper. Inside was a small velvet box. She opened it.

A pin lay nestled in silk—about the size of a silver coin, crafted from polished gold. The Guild's crest was engraved on its face: a spoon crossed with a knife, surrounded by a wreath of wheat and herbs. Along the bottom, in tiny script, her name: Marron Louvel, Certified Chef.

It was beautiful. Simple and elegant and official.

"That's your certification pin," Hestia explained. "All Guild-certified chefs wear them. It identifies you as a professional, grants you certain privileges, and—" She paused, choosing her words carefully. "—it changes how people treat you. Especially in the upper districts."

Marron held the pin up to the light, watching it gleam. "The elf at the Guild said I should wear it if I explore the restaurant district."

"Sage advice. The upper districts can be... particular about who they consider worthy of attention. But credentials matter there. This pin says you've earned your place."

Marron pinned it to her apron, just above her heart. The weight of it was surprisingly comforting—solid and real, proof of what she'd accomplished.

"How do I look?" she asked, half-joking.

"Like a certified chef," Hestia said warmly. "Now go show Lumeria what you're made of."

The Upper Districts - Afternoon

The upper districts of Lumeria were even more impressive up close than they'd been from a distance.

Crystal towers rose toward the sky, their surfaces reflecting sunlight in prismatic cascades. The streets were paved with polished white stone that seemed to glow faintly with embedded mana. Everything was clean, organized, beautiful in that cold, perfect way that made Marron think of museum displays.

And the restaurants—oh, the restaurants.

They lined the main boulevard like jewels: La Lumière Dorée with its golden awnings and fountain entrance. The Starlight Terrace with its floating tables and enchanted chandeliers visible through floor-to-ceiling windows. Maison Argentée with its silver-and-white color scheme and doormen in formal livery.

Each establishment was more elaborate than the last, competing for attention and prestige. Display cases near the entrances showed off awards, accolades, glowing reviews from food critics. Some had waiting lists months long. Others required membership fees just to make a reservation.

It was overwhelming.

Marron walked slowly, taking it all in, feeling distinctly out of place even with her new pin. Her cart—practical and worn—looked almost offensive next to all this polish.

"Excuse me," a voice said.

She turned to find a young man in an elaborate chef's coat—white with purple piping and what looked like actual gemstones on the buttons—looking at her with barely concealed disdain.

"Yes?"

"You're blocking the entrance to Le Jardin Enchanté," he said, gesturing to the restaurant behind her. "If you're here to apply for a position, service entrance is around back."

Marron felt her jaw tighten. "I'm not applying for anything. I'm just looking around."

"Well, look around somewhere else. You're—" His eyes caught on her apron, on the pin glinting in the sunlight. His expression shifted dramatically. "Oh. You're certified."

"I am."

"Lumeria chapter?"

"As of last week."

The young man's demeanor changed completely—from dismissive to cautiously respectful. "My apologies. I didn't realize. Welcome to the restaurant district." He gestured around. "First time here?"

"Yes."

"It shows." He said it without malice, just observation. "Let me guess—street market vendor who decided to get certified?"

Marron bristled. "Traveling chef who decided Lumeria's standards were worth meeting."

"Even better." The young man smiled—genuine this time. "I'm Philippe, sous chef at Le Jardin. If you need any recommendations for where to eat or what to see, I'm happy to help. We certified chefs should stick together."

The shift was disorienting. Thirty seconds ago he'd been dismissive and rude. Now he was offering help, treating her like an equal.

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