Morning had finally settled into something resembling calm.
The birds chirped.
The forest was golden with light.
Bella's bells chimed softly in rhythm with the breeze.
It was… peaceful.
Which, of course, meant something ridiculous was about to happen.
Nyxar stood in front of the campfire, grimmoire floating lazily beside him.
He flipped through the pages, staring intensely at a recipe image.
Nyxar: "Ember." [Flat voice.] "What… is an 'omelet'?"
Ember, still half-wrapping her blanket around herself like a depressed burrito, looked up from her coffee.
Ember: "It's a breakfast thing. You make it with eggs."
Nyxar and Vespera both turned their heads slowly to the side, staring at the small basket of eggs Ember had handed them.
Then at the picture in the book.
Then back at the eggs.
Then at each other.
Vespera: "I see no yellow. Or white."
Nyxar: "The picture lies."
Vespera: "Clearly."
They squinted harder, as if staring at the eggs long enough would make them confess their secrets.
Vespera: "Reading would be… useful here."
Nyxar: "Yeah."
Vespera: "Too bad we can't read."
Narrator: "Tsk, tsk, tsk. Ember, you've failed your cave-boy student and now he's spreading illiteracy like an airborne disease."
Meanwhile, a few meters away, the rest of the camp gathered around Belos, who looked like someone had replaced half his blood with sleepiness.
Sebastian was still right beside him, fussing over his young master while never taking his eyes off Nyxar.
The butler's suspicion levels were at "paranoid hawk."
Understandable. Nyxar did just hand his master two magical bear tattoos like it was a party favor.
Sebastian (thinking): That man is dangerous.
Narrator: "Yes, but in the 'I'll protect your child with my life' way, not the 'stab him in his sleep' way. Probably. 60–40 odds."
Back at the campfire, Nyxar had reached his limit.
Nyxar: "Ember." [Still deadpan, but now with visible confusion.] "How do you make an omelet?"
Ember: [Yawns.] "Use the eggs."
Both him and Vespera stared at the eggs like they were some kind of puzzle relic from an ancient temple.
Vespera: "This round thing… becomes the flat thing?"
Nyxar: "Colors don't match. Image fraud."
Vespera: "Conspiracy."
Nyxar: "How?"
Ember: "What do you mean how? Just crack it over a pan with oil!"
Silence.
A long silence.
Then the two of them leaned over the pan like scientists about to conduct a dangerous experiment.
Vespera: "If it explodes, I'm blaming you."
Nyxar: "If it explodes, we'll both be right."
They tapped the egg gently. Nothing happened.
They tapped it harder. Still nothing.
Then Nyxar just crushed it with perfect precision — shell, yolk, and all splattering into the sizzling pan.
Vespera (deadpan): "Success?"
Ember (off-screen): "...Close enough."
And somehow — by the grace of the culinary gods themselves — it worked.
The sizzling egg morphed, spread, and solidified.
They both stared in awe as it turned golden and soft, flipping perfectly mid-air.
Then, in eerie harmony, they started cooking more.
Each flip synchronized.
Each fold flawless.
Each omelet… somehow better than the last.
By the time Ember looked over, she froze.
Nyxar and Vespera had not only figured it out — they had perfected it.
Narrator: "And thus, two illiterate murder machines became master chefs in under ten minutes. Ember's life, once again, in shambles."
They plated the food, neat and immaculate.
Nyxar handed one to Belos.
Vespera handed one to Sebastian.
The others stared like they'd just been served divine art.
Belos (sniffing): "It smells so good!"
He took a bite—
and color literally returned to his cheeks. His eyes brightened. His energy came back.
Belos (cheerfully): "I feel great!"
Sebastian (relieved, but confused): "You… do seem better."
Sebastian slowly began to eat his own serving. His eyes widened.
Sebastian: "This is… exquisite."
Narrator: "And just like that, Nyxar went from 'suspicious walking war crime' to 'mildly tolerable breakfast savior.' Progress."
Belos, now recharged, immediately decided to test his bear magic again.
He held out his hands, focused hard, and — poof! — two mini steel bears appeared beside him, both thumping their tiny paws proudly.
Belos (grinning): "They're back!"
Sebastian: [Smiling faintly.] "You seem to be controlling them better already, Master Belos."
For the first time, the butler's voice didn't sound suspicious — it sounded almost trusting.
Nyxar noticed this from the fire and gave a quiet nod.
Vespera, flipping another omelet for herself, mirrored him.
Vespera: "He trusts you now."
Nyxar: "Temporarily."
Vespera: "Better than not at all."
Narrator: "That's about as close to optimism as either of them gets, folks."
By the time everyone finished eating, the camp was warm with laughter, chatter, and the faint metallic hum of Bella snoring in the distance.
Even Ember — though she didn't say it — couldn't help smiling a little, watching her two terrifying protégés somehow master breakfast better than she ever did.
Bug leaned back, satisfied.
Spirit sighed contently.
Sebastian finally unclenched.
And Belos, small and happy, giggled as his mini steel bears tried to juggle each other.
Narrator (softly): "For a group of chaos gremlins, it was a surprisingly peaceful morning. No blood, no screaming, just… omelets. Miracles happen."