Lyra hadn't realized how much Mac's pastry paranoia had been infecting her. The sight of that single six-letter word written on the board caused a knot in her stomach to draw tighter than a loaf of overworked ciabatta. She gripped the edge of her work-station, suddenly wondering why exactly she had ever wanted to be a baker in the first place.

Thankfully, that just made the relief all the greater when… nothing happened.

An hour later, Texture class ended. Professor Puff dismissed the second-years, who collected their materials and trooped upstairs to see Professor Genoise. And everything was fine.

They were definitely staring down three terms worth of curriculum even more demanding than the previous year. Lyra wasn't sure how any of them were supposed to weather the workload as it stood, let alone pioneer a new baking discipline simultaneously. The prospect seemed overwhelming.

Yet 'overwhelming' was normal at the academy. That sensation of being a lump of dough, left to proof for far too long and expand until you couldn't sustain your own structural integrity… the feeling was so familiar, Lyra almost found it comforting.

Besides, as Boysen was quick to remind them, all this work was still baking. At the end of the day, pastry was just another kind of food. They were making things for people to eat. What better use could possibly exist for all their energy and time?

Caramelle agreed with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. Mac and Lyra, meanwhile, shared a look.

'Pastry is just food?' said that look. 'Who in their right mind would want this much pastry? Ever???'

Still, Lyra did have to admit that the whole day went better than expected. After their questions about Enjoyment, Professor Puff only had time enough to give them a brief outline of the coming term, along with a quick introduction to the four main types of pastry.

Her two colleagues had followed suit. Professor Genoise expanded on Professor Puff's introduction by regaling them with tales of famous pastry chef creations through the ages, while Professor Honeycomb spoke at length about which Flavors worked best with each pastry type. She even dismissed them early.

All the professors seemed loath to dive in fully during the short time allotted for Monday classes. The second-years went to dinner that night with the same refrain echoing in their ears, in subtle variations according to the professors' personalities. "Just wait until lab day. That's when the fun REALLY begins!"

To Lyra's surprise, they weren't wrong. Pastry was fun.

Royal academy curriculum for the second year devoted the first term to shortcrust and choux. The second term would take them through the intricacies of puff pastry, while the most difficult form of all awaited them in the third term: filo, the super-laminated namesake for Caramelle's dorm room.

But Lyra was months away from such frightening hurdles. For now, all she and her fellow second-years had to worry about was shortcrust.

"Shortcrust pastry is the baker's comfort food," Professor Honeycomb had told them with a twinkling smile on Monday afternoon. "Easy, adaptable, and dependable. You'll love it!"

By dinnertime on Tuesday, even Mac had to agree.

"I still think an entire year devoted to pastry is excessive," he whispered to Lyra as they headed to the dining hall. "But… I never thought a day in Texture lab would go so fast!"

The day had, indeed, flown by.

Professor Puff's first assignment had been a basic pie crust. One layer, standard nine-inch circular pan, without any magic.

Never before had Lyra attempted even such a simple pastry. She had justified this by claiming to 'not like pies very much.' This was true, actually. When given the option, Lyra always chose cake over pie. But intimidation had acted as a much stronger ingredient in her baking choices than she had ever been willing to admit.

Now, however, she chided herself for having waited so long. It was fun to cut cold butter into cubes and mix those cubes into a bowl of flour by hand. She savored the sensation of the two materials coming together in her fingers, the grains of flour gradually clumping around smaller and smaller lumps of butter until the desired crumbly consistency was achieved.

Her favorite part, though, came after the cold water was added. That was when the separate ingredients formed into a complete whole: the moment when flour, butter, and water became dough.

A shudder of delight ran through Lyra as she held the dough in her hand, appreciating its shiny cohesiveness.

It's not just the eating part that involves Enjoyment, she thought. I could write a whole host of songs about the baker's joy in each stage of the baking process…

She shook her head, smiling to herself as she wrapped the dough in beeswax paper. Only the day before, she had barely avoided a panic attack about developing spells for one new discipline. Now she was already pondering subcategories for said discipline?

Her father's voice sang cheerily in her mind. "One note at a time, Treblette."

I'll try, Dad, she thought, placing the wrapped dough in the magically accelerated cooling drawer to chill. I'll try.

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But it was hard not to get ahead of herself. 'Pastry' had infused the very air of the academy with excited energy. Even Professor Puff, though outwardly as serene as ever, seemed to be simmering just beneath her skin as she gazed out over the classroom, waiting for the students to finish mixing their dough.

The instant Mac set his dough to chill, the Texture headmistress clapped her hands sharply.

"Gather 'round, Aspiring Bakers. We must use every moment available to us this year. While your dough is chilling, I will teach you the building blocks of the shortcrust spell."

"Whose shortcrust spell? Which baker invented it?" Lyra asked as she joined her classmates by the professor's work-station. Suddenly, a line of terror-melody spiked in her mind. "Is it… Madame Dacquoise?"

"Not 'Madame Dacquoise's Shortcrust Spell.'" Professor Puff lifted her hand, and a piece of chalk began writing on the board behind her. "The Shortcrust Spell."

"The Shortcrust Spell?" Lyra echoed. "You mean, the most important?"

"I mean 'the' as in 'the only'," Professor Puff replied. "Aspiring Baker Meringue, would you care to explain?"

Caramelle automatically smoothed her already perfect auburn curls, smiling a very Meringue-ish smile. "Of course, Professor. Pastry is such a fundamental area of baking that each pastry type has only one basic spell per discipline. For shortcrust, there is one baseline spell for Texture, one for Flavor, and one for Presentation. The same goes for choux, and puff, and filo."

"But… who wrote the spells?" Lyra asked. "Do we know any of the bakers' names?"

Mac sighed. "That would be nice. It might help, if we were already familiar with that baker's approach."

"Pastry is not about individual 'approach'!" Caramelle's eyes were wide with shock. "Pastry is about consistency. It's about precision. It's —"

"It's like the Sweet and Savory Spell in Flavor," Boysen cut in, placing a comforting hand on Mac's shoulder. "The spells are so ancient, no one remembers who invented them."

"An interesting parallel, Aspiring Baker Berry." Professor Puff gave Boysen a slight bow. "And mostly accurate. Apprentice Baker Galette, care to explain the nuance?"

Rye grinned at Boysen. "That is a great parallel. But, unlike the Sweet and Savory Spell, the pastry spells haven't shifted in their function over time. Madame Hazelnut's Deepening Spell expanded upon the Sweet and Savory Spell, right? And that altered the original spell forever. That's not the case here. No other spells have emerged to alter or expand the baseline pastry spells for each type."

Lyra's eyebrows raised of their own accord. "No other Texture spells?"

"No other spells in any discipline," Professor Puff replied. "Neither Flavor, nor Texture, nor Presentation."

"We don't need any others," Caramelle said firmly. "The original spells are perfect. Complete."

Lyra felt a wild hope spring up in her chest. "So… we'll only be learning one spell this term? One spell here, one spell in Flavor, one in Presentation?"

"Salts, no!" Caramelle exclaimed.

"That would be nice," Mac repeated with another sigh.

"But…" Lyra looked from Caramelle to the Texture headmistress. "You said, no other spells have —"

"No other baseline shortcrust spells," Professor Puff corrected. "That is true. We will be using the same basic spell for shortcrust all term, and another for choux. But the baseline spell is merely… a collection of building blocks. How you combine those blocks depends entirely on what you are using the pastry for." That mischievous gleam returned to the professor's eye. "And how many ways can you use shortcrust, Apprentice Baker Galette?"

Rye's eyes twinkled in perfect gleeful harmony. "Many, many different ways."

Beside Lyra, Mac audibly gulped.

But Professor Puff's calm excitement was infectious. It was hard not to feel the awe of learning a piece of magic so old and so fundamental to the baking world. Watching the chalk move through the air, writing out the ancient words, Lyra even understood Caramelle's fierce devotion.

It's great to explore new territory, she thought, hardly daring to breathe as the chalk came to a stop and slowly drifted back down to the tray. We need to forge new paths. That's important. But we also need a place to start from. A place where we feel safe. A home.

Lyra quickly decided that 'The Shortcrust Spell' was as good a home as any.

On the board, it looked ridiculously simple. In fact, it was a poetic description of the very process Lyra had found so fascinating at the beginning of class: the coming together of three separate ingredients to make dough.

Milk gives us butter Flour comes from grain Water forms the union For the baker's glad refrain

"Refrain!" Lyra burst out, pointing to the board. "It's like it was always meant to be sung!"

"Perhaps," Professor Puff said mildly. "As we have discussed, the origins of this spell are lost in the shadows of time. History is an impossibly murky discipline. What is not murky, however, is the efficacy of this spell. That has been proven countless times over the centuries." She took out her silver baking spoon and tapped it on the counter. "Let us commence adding our own round of evidence."

Waving her silver spoon like a conductor's baton, she led them through three repetitions of the chant. Then she instructed them to think the chant, silently, still keeping them in rhythm with the spoon.

It was on the third round of this silent repetition that Lyra jumped. A flash of blue in the corner of her eye had startled her. Looking down, she saw blue light gathering around Caramelle's fingertips. It was faint, and shimmery, but undeniably present.

"Caramelle," she breathed. "Sharps and flats —"

Caramelle raised her hands just as the last sparks of blue light faded.

"I thought I felt something," she said happily. "But I didn't dare look. Oh… oh… sharps!"

She threw her arms around Lyra, grinning nearly as wide as a Berry.

"Well done, Caramelle!" Rye crowed.

Lyra returned Caramelle's hug in a daze. "I — I don't understand," she stammered, looking at Professor Puff over Caramelle's shoulder. "She's not actually baking. How could the magic activate like that?"

"It's a really old, really powerful spell," Boysen said slowly. "Is that it, Professor?"

Mac's voice was hushed with awe. "Or is it Caramelle?"

Professor Puff was beaming. Lyra half-expected her to start bouncing like Professor Honeycomb.

"Both," the Texture headmistress declared. "As Aspiring Baker Berry observed, this spell is quite old. Age matters in a baking spell. The more often it is repeated, the more deeply it sinks into the experience of baking itself. Anyone who applies themselves with special vigor to a particular discipline may find themselves to be peculiarly sensitive conduits for the older spells in that discipline. For Texture… there are few spells older than The Shortcrust Spell."

"So it is Caramelle." Mac sighed for the third time, though this one had a distinctly dreamy note to it.

Caramelle echoed his sigh as she pulled away from Lyra. "I'd always hoped — I mean, I never dared to expect —"

"It is, indeed, a sign of your devotion to the discipline, Aspiring Baker Meringue. And of the spell's own power." Professor Puff didn't exactly bounce, but Lyra was almost positive the sedate woman was wriggling a little while continuing to smile fondly at Caramelle. "Well, then! Quite an auspicious start to the year, I must say. What did I tell you all?"

Yes. Without a doubt, the Texture professor was wriggling. Her blue scarf wobbled over her neat gray braids as she gave her hands another brisk clap.

"Pastry is going to be fun!"

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