In the Hearthgarden Kitchen, a few minutes before the banquet begins for the dining halls.
At her station, Aya slid the last of her cubed carrots into a bowl, setting it beside stacks of broccoli florets and ribbons of parsnip. Satisfied with this batch of her handiwork, she exhaled softly, pulling a napkin from her apron pocket to dab her forehead.
"Prep's almost done… once service starts, it'll be nonstop follow-ups."
She looked around at her teammates. There saw Ciela ensuring everything is in place, Juniper carefully filleting fish surprisingly quietly, and Richard making sure his pans were ready for the meats.
Seeing this, Aya smiled. Until suddenly, her vision swam, edges blurring as a faint throb stirred behind her temples.
"Ouch..." she winced, pressing a hand briefly to her head. "Too hot… it feels hotter than usual tonight."
Moving carefully between the stations, she angled toward the water jug across the room. And halfway there, her shoulder brushed against someone. It was Petra, who was balancing a tray lined with tiny bowls of chopped herbs and garnishes.
"Whoa—!" Petra caught the tray just in time.
Aya's ears shot upright. "Oh, Petra! I'm so sorry!"
"It's no problem!" Petra steadied the tray against her hip, then gave a small laugh, her bushy squirrel-folk tail flicking. "You okay, Aya?"
Aya nodded quickly. "Yes. Just… slipped past without looking."
"Mm, alright," Petra replied. "Just be careful, okay? It's gonna get busier than usual tonight."
"I will," Aya said with a polite bow of her head before continuing on, eager to reach the water before the dizziness returned.
Aya reached the jug, poured water into a plain ceramic cup, and lifted it to her lips. She hadn't realized how dry her throat was until she emptied it in a few gulps.
"Stars… I must've been thirstier than I thought."
She set the cup down to refill it when the wide doors of the Hearthgarden Kitchen swung open.
Chef Tulliver strode in and immediately addressed to the team. "First course service begins now for both the delegates' halls and the guest halls! Is everyone ready?"
Aya blinked, still holding her cup, and before she could open her mouth the others answered in unison, "Yes, Chef!"
"Good." Chef Tulliver's eyes swept the room. "Ciela, you'll keep everyone on pace for each course."
"I will, Chef," Ciela replied quickly.
"The extensions will be handling the first course alongside us," Chef Tulliver continued. "I've assigned acting heads for each of those kitchens. Timing has to stay consistent across every hall, so keep sharp."
"Yes, Chef!" came the chorus again.
"But for this kitchen here, I'll be running final checks myself. Now, begin with the appetizers. Ciela has the list of what and how much must be finished for our quota; she'll let you all know what she needs."
"Yes, Chef!" echoed once more, louder now.
At that, Aya quickly emptied her refilled cup, and with haste, she returned to her station.
Thankfully, her role in the first course wasn't the most stressful. At the hot veg station, she wasn't shouldering any major cooking yet, as her task was to keep vegetables and fruits moving in neat little batches, trimming, chopping, and steaming where needed so the others could whisk them into the appetizers.
Though she already did plenty of prep work ahead of time, the team still needed more batches of cut carrots, cucumber slivers, diced pears, and even sprigs of parsley cut clean for the finishing touches.
And throughout the first course, Chef Tulliver's voice consistently and clearly cut through the clamor like a conductor's. "Faster on those tartlets, don't drown them with filling!"
"Yes, Chef!"
Then she approached Ciela, "Ciela, bring that platter here, show me the plates before they leave this room. Clean the rims, even spacing on the garnish, yes, that one. Good. Next tray!"
Once every plate was initially approved by Ciela, it then moved under their hedgehog-folk head chef's final checks.
And just like that, the first course went by in a smooth, well-oiled rush. Aya barely had time to think before the last tray vanished and the kitchen let out a collective exhale.
Later, wiping her counter clean and setting up fresh boards for the second course, Aya refilled her baskets with new produce. She was just laying out a row of zucchini when Orin appeared at her side, a heavy basket of greens cradled in his arms. It had spinach, celery stalks, even leeks peeking out the top.
"Hey," he said as he hefted it onto her counter. "We burned through way more than I thought. I'll need more for the stocks and the heavier soups coming up. Can you do these quick?"
Aya brushed her hands on her apron, nodding without hesitation. "Of course, Orin."
"Let me know once it's done."
"I will!" she answered as she pulled the basket closer and reached for her knife.
While carefully handling Orin's requests, it didn't take long before her vision swam again. This time, she felt the kitchen heat even morel; her head ached worse than earlier. Due to this, her pace slowed down, and her blade dragged instead of snapping clean.
Realizing that she couldn't afford to slow down, she blinked hard and shook her head once, and forced herself back into rhythm, and that seemed to do the trick.
Little by little, she cleared the pile. The diced greens gathered neatly in her bowls until at last she pushed them to the side with a small sigh of relief.
"Orin! It's done!" she called.
"Coming," Orin acknowledged. "Behind!" he then called as he weaved through the bustle. He slid in beside her. "These are good?"
Aya wiped her hand on her apron and nodded. "Yes, they should be ready."
"Great," Orin said, sweeping them up. Right before leaving, he looked at her, noticing that she looked surprisingly haggard. "…You alright?"
Aya blinked, caught off guard. "Yes? Why?"
"You're sweating a lot," Orin said. "Might be the heat, but you look a bit pale. Maybe grab some water before the next round."
Aya's ears twitched, surprise coloring her face. "Oh dear… really? T-thank you, I'll go get some, then."
"Good," he said before moving away with his bowls. "Behind!" he called again as he went toward his station.
Aya sighed, turning toward the jug of water, only for her steps to be interrupted by Petra's voice from across the kitchen.
"Aya! Can you chop some fresh herbs for me? I'm swamped with the garnishes here!"
Aya froze for a second, then nodded quickly. "Of course! Which ones do you need?"
"Thyme and rosemary from the pantry, and a bit of flat-leaf parsley!" Petra called back. "Quickly, please!"
Abandoning the need for water, and prioritizing Petra's request, Aya hurried to the pantry, gathered the herbs, and returned to her station. Laying them out, she reached for her knife once more, setting aside her own weariness to keep pace with the kitchen.
Again, like the first and second time, her vision suddenly dulled, followed by those same headaches.
"Agh… not now… please not now…"
She pressed on, quicker this time, trying to outpace the headaches. But as the blade came down, her hand slipped just slightly, and that's when—
Snick!
She accidentally nicked her finger.
Aya flinched, staring wide-eyed at the tiny cut along her index finger. Her breath caught as she slowly started to panic. She normally wouldn't make such an amateur mistake.
"No, no, no… I can't be careless here—"
From across the station, Petra's voice called out again with more urgency. "Aya! How're those garnishes coming?"
Aya froze, heart still hammering. Then she forced her voice to answer, but a touch too quick. "A-almost done!"
"Alright, please, as soon as you can!" Petra answered back.
Aya shook it off once more, and she quickly discarded the stained portion of herbs, wiped her knife clean with shaky fingers, and hurried to the first aid kit in the corner. Pulling out a strip of cloth, she wrapped her finger tight to cover her wound.
"Calm down, Aya… just… calm down," she thought to herself as she took a few deep breaths.
Immediately right after, she returned to her station to finish slicing the herbs as best as she could, pushing herself past the lingering headaches. When the bundles were chopped and portioned, she gathered them carefully into a small bowl.
"Behind!" she called, weaving through the kitchen, slipping past trays and steaming pots until she reached Petra.
"Here you go!" Aya said, a little breathless as she offered the bowl.
Petra beamed. "Perfect, thank you, Aya!"
Aya gave a small nod, trying to smile, though her hands trembled faintly as she tucked them back against her apron. "That was too close…"
Aya steadied herself, forcing her hands back to work as the kitchen moved into the intermediate course. Meats were cooked and handled by Richard. Pots of stock bubbled at the far end, Orin stirring them at his usual pace. Juniper plated small portions of baked fish, Ciela inspecting every one like a hawk before sending them for Chef Tulliver to check.
At her own counter, Aya now started with and kept the hot veg flowing, sautéing a pan of zucchini ribbons, steaming spinach leaves, and blanching beans until they gleamed bright green.
"Just keep up, Aya!"
By some miracle, the intermediate course passed without a major hitch. Plates moved from station to station, checked, approved, carried out through the doors in carts toward the halls beyond. And then, like a storm finally catching its breath and building again, the ruckus rose.
"Time to prepare for the mains! Everyone, check your mise en place! Are all your ingredients and prep ready for the dishes you'll be sending out?" Chef Tulliver asked.
"Yes, Chef!" rang everyone's chorus.
Except for Aya.
She stood frozen at her counter, contemplating. Her knife resting against a half-finished pile of carrots. Her ears twitched downward, and her chest tightened as she swallowed hard.
"Why am I so out of it? Is it just because I studied too late last night?"
"Hey, Aya? Think you can help slice these up for me?"
"Or… is this the fatigue finally hitting me? I thought I took enough breaks…"
"Aya?"
Her eyes dropped to her bandaged finger; she could still feel the faint sting pulsing under the cloth. "Or maybe I'm just so nervous I didn't notice how worn out I really am…"
"Hey, Aya?"
Her ears flicked as she registered the voice, finally snapping her back. She turned, startled, to find Richard standing beside her station with a small bundle of carrots and radishes tucked under one arm, and a basket of onions and garlic in the other.
"O–Oh! Richard!" She straightened quickly, trying to sound composed. "Yes, how can I help?"
He tilted his head, concerned. "Are you okay? You've seemed a little out of it today."
Aya laughed softly. "Ah, sorry. I think the banquet rush just got to me for a moment."
Richard frowned. "Sorry to hear that. Do you need a quick break? No shame in it, we can ask Chef Tulliver."
Her ears shot upright, and she waved both hands quickly. "No, no! I'm fine. Really. I can keep going."
"Are you sure? You don't have to be stubborn about it."
"Really! I'm sure!"
"Well, if you say so," Richard said, studying her for another moment before letting it go. He set the vegetables on her counter. "Alright then, think you could julienne these carrots and radishes for me? And dice up a bunch of onions and garlic too? We'll need them for the mains."
Aya gave him a bright smile, trying to push aside her unease. "Of course. Leave them to me, I'll get right on it."
"Thanks. Let me know once you're done, I'll swing back to grab them."
Aya nodded, and as soon as Richard left, she drew the bundle closer and lay them neatly. Knife in hand, she steadied her breathing and fell into her rhythm of slicing. Carrots into neat, slender juliennes. Radishes next, joining the pile. Then, the onions and garlic cloves.
As she worked, she remembered Orin's earlier advice. As much as she wants to take a bit of a water break, right now she couldn't step away. Not with the mains breathing down their necks.
Thankfully, the work itself went surprisingly smoother than she feared. Her hands moved almost automatically and smoothly again, perhaps thanks to the years of practice. When the bowls were filled and neatly set on a tray, she lifted and carried them carefully.
"Richard, it's done!" Aya called out as she began to move.
But again, out of nowhere her vision swirled, this time harder. She stopped short, tray wobbling in her grip.
And then came a loud ringing in her ears.
It wasn't just noise, it was everything. The scrape of knives on boards, the clang of pans on burners, the hiss of steam, voices calling "behind!" and "hot pan!"
Every sound struck her ears like hammer blows, far sharper and closer than they should have been.
Aya winced, her ears flattening hard against her skull. For a moment the world pulsed with chaotic noise, each note stabbing into her temples until she felt her knees weaken.
Despite that, Aya tried her hardest and pushed forward, her hands trembling more than ever. She passed by assistants darting between stations, her teammates calling orders and warnings, but her steps faltered in the thick of it all.
Then she collided with someone.
Her shoulder struck hard, and Aya stumbled, eyes flying wide as the world seemed to slow.
The tray tilted. The bowls of carefully sliced vegetables that she prepared slid, then toppled, clattering onto the floor with a burst of carrots, radishes, onions and garlic scattering across the tiles.
"Aya—?!"
Her ears rang harder, and she barely had time to process the crash before a loud yelp broke through the din.
"Hot—!"
It was Juniper.
Aya stared in horror, watching as Juniper's tray, laden with steaks Richard had just finished searing and set aside for her to rest and finish, slipped from her grip in the chaos. Juniper had tried to catch the heavy slabs of meat with her bare hands, but the searing heat bit into her palms and she recoiled with a hiss.
The tray struck the ground with a sickening clang.
Seven… maybe eight steaks, scattered across the floor in a messy ruin of meat, oil, and other ingredients. Some slid under counters, others landed squarely in the sprawl of Aya's spilled vegetables. Steam hissed faintly where the hot juices hit the cold stone tiles.
The whole kitchen froze temporarily. Every eye turned toward the disaster.
Juniper's chest heaved, her hands reddened from the brief contact with the hot meat. Her wide eyes darted from the ruined steaks to Aya, and she looked at her with deep disbelief.
Aya found herself staring, unable to breathe, the terror of seeing the result of her mistake gripping her chest tightly.
"H–huh…?"