“God I’m glad that I don’t have any food allergies.” Marco things to himself as he helps the sisters in the kitchen. Ethil is cracking eggs with swirls of egg and stirring with shards of unmelting ice, a slightly smug smirk appears on her face when she catches Marco’s look of surprise at the casual use of magic.

  Doris is chopping sweet potato into small cubes, mincing onions and garlic, and rinsing some black beans with arms of wind, water, and ice. She looks to be making some sort of sweet potato hash with sauteed onions and garlic and black beans topped with something like sour cream and avocado.

  “Magic is incredible, it looks like those are last year's sweet potatoes based off of the blemishes and an avocado in this milk climate is amazing.” Marco remarks to himself, looking to his own task.

  The pair of House Ivory chefs have given Marco free reign to make something for breakfast this morning. Marco thought about it for a good amount of time while making a savory breakfast congee, finally deciding on a quiche. Sautéed mushrooms with chilies and garlic in a thick rice porridge being quickly put together while he goes over his plan for the quiche to himself.

  Quick and delicious but nice enough that he won’t feel embarrassed presenting to it the talented pair.

  A quick pie dough is made butter, wonderful smelling flour that Doris mentioned was milled outside of the city, and little bit of melted ice that he managed to get from Ethil. He lets it rest for a little bit of time placing it on a small disk of ice that Ethil conjured for him, he grabs some eggs from the cold storage, a bowl and a whisk, and some of the other ingredients that he will need to make a delicious meal.

  The soft cheese that was present in yesterday's lunch, which Doris supplies the name of but is translated to goat cheese by his [Traveler’s Perk], a small assortment of bell peppers and some garlic and onions. He brings all the ingredients back to his cutting board, chopping the peppers in to small cubes and mincing the alliums before tossing them into a hot skillet to get a bit of color.

  The bell peppers go into the hot pan once the garlic and onions are done sautéing, all the smells and flavors melding together. He would normally add ham or bacon at this stage of the process but Marco found out that the House of Ivory is a family of vegetarians. He adds some spices that he finds in the cupboard near the cold storage; za’atar, a small amount of paprika, and some dried chives.

  Mixing the eggs with some cream, he whisks it all together with vigor, incorporating air before pulling the skillet of the heat to let the contents cool while he rolls out the pie dough.

  He feels the warmth in his chest and a small rolling pin shape forms out of his right hand, a French style rolling pin for easier formation. Not needing to form the handles and let the middle part rotate, he grabs the pie dough and rolls it out to an even thickness, placing it gently in the pan provided by Doris.

  He folds the skillet contents into the egg mixture before breaking the goat cheese into small tablespoon sized pieces and placing them throughout the quiche as he pours the egg mixture into the crust.

  Letting it back together for about thirty minutes in the House’s magical oven, he is rewarded with a delightful smell as he opens the oven door to reveal a lightly toasted top on his golden quiche, pocked with bubbling cheese and bright vegetables.

  He passes it off to the sisters at their request and washes up before dismissing his [Salt] rolling pin and entering the dining room filled with members of the House. He smiles to himself at his casual use of magic during breakfast preparation, having practiced some more [Salt] manifestation during his evening snack last night.

  He greets everyone present for breakfast that he walks by and takes his normal seat next to Coron who greets him with enthusiasm, asking him what he made for breakfast today. Marco smiles lightly, “You’ll see shortly, I haven’t seen anything like it during my short time here.”

  “That’s no fun, I want everyone else to be surprised, not me.” Coron complains and jokes.

  “I had a great time making it, I haven’t baked in years prior to this, being too busy with the savory side of things.” Marco says and smiles at the small hint he gave Coron.

  He wipes his hands off on his black pants, similar to linen back home, light and breathable fabric that is super comfortable. A dark blue tunic-like shirt that hangs just past mid-thigh along with the same boots as yesterday, wiped of dust and salt debris. He looks much more similar to the natives today, dressed in local clothes with boots, letting his kitchen shoes rest in his room.

  The pair of sisters enter the dining room like normal, floating trays and their usual intonement of welcome before the trays start to unload themselves into the family style breakfast that has become an important part of Marco’s day.

  People immediately see the new dishes, immediately looking to Marco to explain his offerings for the breakfast table.

  “I made two things this morning,” Marco begins, clearing his throat lightly. “The first is a spiced mushroom congee, which is a rice porridge from my world. The second is a goat cheese and vegetable quiche; a fluffy egg custard studded with sauteed vegetable and tangy goat’s cheese baked into a flaky pie crust.”

  People look excitedly at the pan of egg slices and the bowl of steaming congee, quickly taking portions from each and placing them on their plates. Noises of pleasure sound around the table as they try the new dishes, people loving the texture of the quiche and the spice and flavor of the quiche.

  Compliments spread from the occupants of the table most directed at Ethil and Doris but the occasional one targeted at Marco’s food.

  “Very well done Marco, I have never had the like before.” Violet says, raising her glass of juice to the young chef in a toast.

  “Thank you, I hope to give you all more experiences and foods from home.” Marco says, bowing at Violet.

  Marco quickly finishes his breakfast of quiche, congee, and an assortment of items that Doris and Ethil prepared; scrambled eggs, sweet potato hash, and a small yogurt parfait, topped with berries and sweet honey.

  Oren stands and slowly circles the table, stopping close to Marco’s chair and leans close to his ear. “Please stay after breakfast is over, I have something to ask of you.” He says in a whisper, waiting for Marco’s confirmation before he makes his way back to his seat, sipping on a cup of tea.

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  Breakfast wraps up in a timely manner, Marco staying in his seat sipping his cup of black coffee, nervous about what Oren has to ask of him. Workers of the House depart to start their work day, headed to the gardens, housekeeping suites, or to the kitchens.

  Oren and Marco remain seated until they are the final occupants of the room. Oren slowly stands, gesturing for Marco to follow him. He follows the older man through the twisting hall of the Manor, exiting out the back of the large home into a small clearing rimmed in hedges.

  The space, approximately fifteen feet on each side, short soft grass lays in a carpet and Oren begins to speak. “It is my understanding that you wish to take the Adventurer’s Oath.”

  “Yes, working to better my surroundings and perhaps getting some money or ingredients to make new and exciting food with.” Marco says, looking around at the green hedges and basking slightly in the warm sunlight.

  “I have taken it upon myself to train you and get you ready for the test.” Oren says, beginning to circle Marco. “I will show you some of the Warrior techniques that have brought me far in my journey, Mana strengthening, increased agility, and enhanced senses.”

  Oren finishes speaking and immediately shoots forward, blurring toward Marco so quickly that he didn’t register the movement until there was a fist punching all of the air from his lungs. Marco is on the floor gagging before he realizes what has happened, gasping for air and trying to keep hold of his delicious breakfast.

  “Pay attention Marco, here I come.” Oren says, circling Marco once again.

  Marco circulates his Mana faster than ever, pushing his channels to restore his body and allow his lungs to draw a deeper breath. He pushes himself up as fast as he can, rolling to the side as an axe moves through the space his back just was. He continues to backpedal, quickly reaching the hedge, the small branches digging into his back and behind.

  “Push your magic through your muscles, in a similar pattern to the circulation exercise that you were taught.” Oren says, hands behind his back, pacing back and forth. “Expand your channels and push that excess mana into your muscles, bones, and tendons. This will improve your mobility. You have one minute.”

  Marco takes a deep breath, pushing the Mana in his chest until it nearly burns him from the inside. He forces that feeling down his mana channels, the speed and bluntness of his actions making his body hurt slightly as the Mana flows. He takes the excess generation and forces into his muscles, bones, and tendons making them stronger and more durable for the beatdown sure to follow.

  His minute ends, he springs to his feet, surprised at the speeds of his movements and stumbles a bit before catching his balance and preparing himself for Oren’s attack.

  Oren charges, blindingly fast once again narrowly missing Marco as he dodges away. Marco smiles lightly to himself, a little too smug for a man with a fist two inches from his face. The hit connects and he ends up in the grass once again, gasping for breath and holding his cheek hoping nothing is broken. “This old man hits like a train.” Marco thinks to himself and he groans and tries to rise to his feet, failing.

  “Being smug in battle is the surest way to death. I have lived for over eight centuries child, most of the deaths I have been witnessed to ended not long after they began, either from confidence or arrogance.” Oren instructs, once again pacing with his hands behind his back.

  “Yes sir, I’m sorry.” Marco says rubbing his cheek, directing Mana there to increase his natural healing. Magical healing not included in [Salt], being in the realms of [Water] and [Light], but directing excess Mana toward an injury will increase the body's ability to heal itself. Marco finally returns to his feet, brushing off the loose grass the best he can, preparing himself for the next charge.

  “Push excess Mana into the area where your neck connects to your head, increasing your reflexes, this paired with the muscle and body enhancements will help you register attacks before they get close to you.” Oren says, continuing to pace. “You have another minute, restore your body enhancement once again.”

  Marco pushes his Mana hard once again, pumping it into his Mana channels and draining the extra into his muscles and bones, restoring his previous buffs.

  Circulating his Mana to his head and neck, he feeds the extra mana carefully into the location of his brainstem, a little nervous with the delicate area of his body, time seems to stretch as he enhances his reflexes and perception.

  He sees the twitch of Oren’s leg right before it explodes off the ground, propelling the man toward Marco at incredible speed. A fist approaches his chest again, he manages to fall backward, avoiding the blow but ending up on his back. A slightly slowed axe kick is Oren’s next attack he is aiming for center mass; Marco pushes himself to his side, rolling in the process.

  Pushing hard on the ground, Marco sends himself a couple of feet in the air, startled by his strength but manages to get his feet under him and dive out of the way of another kick from Oren. Amazed at his own athleticism he continues to move Mana as he was told, still regenerating more than he is using, his body efficiently putting the Mana where it is most needed.

  Oren continues to follow Marco around the hedge circle, giving him just enough time to think about his choices and movements. He is amazed at the speed that the redness is disappearing from his student’s cheek, having struck the younger man much harder than he intended to, used to training more experienced combatants.

  Marco stumbles coming out of the latest roll, panicking slight as the next attack looms in his vision. He throws his hands up, channeling all of his available Mana into the space in front of his hands. Thunk, the attack lands on the newly conjured sheet of pure white [Salt], Marco takes advantage of the surprise on the older elf’s face to gain some distance, trying to reactivate his buffs while being aware of his dangerous teacher.

  “Very well done, roughly formed but solidly built.” Oren says, returning to lecturer mode, giving Marco a couple of extra seconds to restore his techniques. “A shield is always a valuable spell to form; this one is a little bit rough and mundane but an excellent first casting.”

  “Thank you,” Marco manages to get out before he is jumping backward trying to avoid the jab coming his way, he narrowly succeeds once again moving around the ring to avoid the relentless series of strikes.

  “You have done well, using these new techniques so quickly, I see now what has the younger members of the House in such a state.” Oren says, still advancing on his student.

  Marco rolls forwards, under a high punch, feeling the wind generated by the strike and he barely manages to dodge. Conjuring his shield once again he counters the follow up kick, letting the [Salt] fall apart shortly after.

  He sees an opening in Oren’s stance, pushing as much Mana as he can into his perception buff as he can, hoping to detect any traps that the old elf has waiting for him. He goes for it, forming a fist and striking out toward his teacher, the world goes black.

  Regaining consciousness after just a few seconds, Marco looks up at the blue sky, watching lovely fluffy clouds drift across the lovely blue backdrop. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me,” Marco says, “I got caught up in the exchange.”

  “Do not apologize, that was an excellent punch, it would have done solid damage had it connected,” Orens says, standing over Marco and reaching out a hand to help him to his feet. “However, my reputation would not survive if I allowed a new student to hit me so soon.”

  “Glad to hear it, I’m glad it looked dangerous at least.” Marco groans and lets Oren pull him to his feet. “Your reputation? Do you train people for the House?”

  “Amongst other things, I have been alive a very long time.” Oren says, brushing a blade of grass from Marco’s shoulder. “I am Protector of this House, a title that I wear with honor. The Big Three are currently in balance, but occasionally one House will fracture the balance and people need reminding of my reputation.”

  The sky seems to darken slightly with Oren’s final sentence. “This is one scary bastard right here.” Marco thinks to himself, shivering slightly at the thought that he tried to strike the man. For a second there, Marco didn’t stand before the Protector of House Ivory but The Darkwraith, a terror of the [Dark] and nightmare of many.