Marron lifted it, feeling its weight. Solid. Real. Ordinary.

Maybe I was wrong, she thought. Maybe it was just wishful thinking. Maybe—

It was different from Comfort & Crunch. It had responded to her immediately, and just got stronger when its role as a Legendary Tool was confirmed.

Totally different feeling to the knife the Lord Jackal gave me. It was beautiful and cut meat and vegetables with equal sharpness. But she knew that it would dull with time and had to be sharpened.

She wasn't sure how long its enchanted effects would last (it had to have some magic put on it, right?) but it was a regular kitchen tool. A magical and high-quality one, but it wasn't legendary quality.

This pot felt like the gifted knife.

"Thank you," Marron said anyway, because refusing felt wrong. "I'll... I'll test it. See what happens."

"That's all I ask." Simone refilled their tea. "And Marron? If it doesn't work out, don't feel bad. Sometimes we want something to be special so badly that we convince ourselves it is."

They drank a delicate sip and smiled. "It isn't weakness. That's just hope."

+

Evening - Back at the Inn

Marron set the pot on the kitchen counter and stared at it.

It sat there, inert and ordinary. Pretty, yes. Well-crafted, certainly. But not magical.

Mokko emerged from the bedroom, took one look at her face, and said, "That's not the expression of someone who found a Legendary Tool."

"No," Marron admitted. "It's not."

She told him about Simone, about the eleven other chefs who'd taken the pot and brought it back, about how it was probably just a nice copper pot with a good story.

"But you dreamed about it," Mokko pointed out.

"I dreamed about a copper pot. Maybe not this copper pot."

"Or maybe—" He adjusted his glasses thoughtfully. "—maybe it is the right pot, but you don't know how to activate it yet. Like a key that needs the right lock."

Marron considered that. Her knife had always worked—it had responded to her mother, then to her, without any special activation. But maybe not all Legendary Tools worked the same way.

"Simone said to test it," she said. "So I'll test it."

She filled the pot with water and set it on the stove, turning the heat to medium. The water began to warm slowly, evenly—but was that magic or just good copper construction? Quality pots distributed heat well. That was their whole purpose.

When the water started to simmer, she watched it carefully. After five minutes, it began to bubble more vigorously. After seven, it was at a rolling boil. After ten, it was starting to splash over the sides.

She turned down the heat, disappointed.

"It boils over," she said flatly. "It's just a regular pot."

Lucy burbled sadly from her jar, forming a wilted heart shape.

"Maybe it needs something specific," Mokko suggested. "Maybe it only works with certain ingredients, or certain recipes, or—"

"Or maybe it's just a pot," Marron interrupted, more harshly than she'd intended. "Maybe I saw what I wanted to see because I wanted so badly to find the next tool."

She turned off the stove and slumped into a chair, staring at the ordinary copper pot full of ordinary boiling water.

This was her own fault. She'd gotten ahead of herself, let hope override sense. She'd walked into that restaurant expecting magic and convinced herself she'd found it.

On the other hand, the food cart had always been its own magical thing. She just didn't realize it was truly special because it never announced itself.

In fact, she had needed convincing.

"What are you going to do?" Mokko asked gently.

"Keep it for now," Marron said. "Test it properly. Use it for a few days, see if anything changes. If it's still just a pot after that—" She shrugged. "I'll bring it back to Simone, like the others."

"And then?"

"And then I keep looking. The real copper pot is out there somewhere. This just isn't it."

But even as she said it, doubt crept in. What if there was no magical copper pot? What if the dream had been metaphorical, not literal? What if she was chasing something that didn't exist?

She walked over to her food cart, where it was safely parked across the wall from her bed.

"There is no way I'm parking it outside or on the balcony again."

She tapped the wooden counter with her fingertips and felt its immediate response to her intent.

At least I have you, she thought. At least one of the Legendary Tools is real.

Two Days Later - Tuesday Morning

The specialization classroom was on the third floor of the Guild building, a large space with individual cooking stations and a demonstration area at the front. Marron arrived fifteen minutes early, her cart loaded with her supplies—including the copper pot, carefully wrapped in cloth.

She'd tested it three more times over the past two days. Made soup (it burned slightly on the bottom). Made rice (overcooked). Made a simple broth (boiled over twice).

It was a perfectly good pot. Just not a perfect pot.

Other students were already there, setting up their stations. She recognized a few faces from the retest session, including the orcish man who'd passed with his pastries. He nodded at her, friendly but focused.

Marron chose a station near the middle and began unpacking. When she unwrapped the copper pot, the woman at the next station—a young tiefling with curved horns and bright purple skin—whistled low.

"That's a beautiful piece," she said. "Family heirloom?"

"Borrowed," Marron replied, and left it at that.

"I'm Zara, by the way. First time taking poultry?"

"First time taking any specialization. I just certified last week."

"Same! Well, two weeks ago for me, but close enough. We're basically classmates." Zara grinned, showing sharp teeth. "Fair warning: I heard Henrik's intense. But good. Really good."

Before Marron could respond, the door at the front of the room opened.

Chef Henrik entered—and entered was the right word. He was a tall, broad-shouldered human man with close-cropped gray hair and the kind of presence that commanded attention without saying a word. He wore the standard white chef's coat, but his was marked with small pins denoting various specializations and achievements.

"Good morning," he said, his voice deep and carrying. "I'm Chef Henrik. You're here to learn advanced poultry techniques. By the end of this course, you'll be able to break down a whole chicken in under two minutes, prepare five different stocks, and create dishes that showcase chicken as the star it deserves to be."

He surveyed the class with sharp eyes. "This is not a demonstration class. You will cook. You will make mistakes. You will learn from those mistakes. Questions?"

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