The cooking class ended shortly after Selara gave her usual blunt verdicts on the students’ dishes. So laughed, recalling how she had called certain plates "unbearable shit", while others muttered that they’d never try again. Despite her sharp tongue, no one seed offended—if anything, her honesty had beco part of the entertainnt of the class.
’She probably opened this elective just to eat properly,’ Trafalgar thought as he cleaned his station. ’Knowing her personality, I wouldn’t be surprised at all.’
One by one, the few students in attendance filed out of the room, their laughter and chatter echoing down the hallway. Among them was Aubrelle, who helped tidy up the leftovers before leaving with her usual serene smile.
Trafalgar’s eyes lingered on her for a mont. ’The Rosenthal family... who are they, really? Aubrelle is a legendary character, so it wouldn’t hurt to get closer to her. Besides, she has such a calm personality—it’s hard not to like her.’
When the last footsteps faded, silence settled over the classroom. Selara was still at her desk, her pen scratching furiously across a notebook smudged with ink. Her platinum-blond hair was a wild ss, her odd-looking goggles resting crookedly on her forehead. She seed entirely absorbed in her notes, jotting down which dishes she had enjoyed the most.
Trafalgar hesitated. She hadn’t even noticed he was still there. But after a mont, he started walking toward her desk, each step echoing against the empty floor.
Selara finally looked up, adjusting her goggles with a finger. Her erald eyes, sharp yet distracted, landed on him with mild curiosity.
"Oh... the boy who made the best dish today," she said with a crooked smile. "What are you still doing here? Class ended a while ago."
Trafalgar lingered in front of the desk, gathering his resolve. "Professor Selara... is it possible to create an item that can locate soone? To find where they are?"
Selara didn’t even look up at first. She was scribbling notes furiously, muttering about "tomato sauce ratios" of all things. Then, with a lazy flick of her wrist, she finally tilted her glasses down and peered at him.
"Of course it’s possible," she said casually. "Alchemy can do almost anything if you know the thod."
Trafalgar’s heart skipped. He leaned forward slightly. "Then... would you help —"
"No." Selara cut him off flatly, turning the page of her notebook as if the conversation was over.
The blunt rejection made Trafalgar blink. For a second, he thought she hadn’t even understood his request. "...I see. Then maybe I should pick another elective. Sothing less pointless."
That finally got her attention. Selara pushed her chair back and snapped her head up, erald eyes gleaming with a mischievous spark. "Now, now, don’t be dramatic. I didn’t say I wouldn’t help. I just said it won’t be free. Big difference."
Trafalgar let out a quiet breath and nodded. "I understand. Nothing is ever free."
"Exactly!" She clapped her gloved hands together, leaving faint chemical smudges on the desk. "If you want my help making sothing that outrageous, you’ll have to give sothing in return. Paynt, entertainnt, bribes... I’m not picky, but I don’t work for nothing."
Her grin widened, almost childlike, before she leaned forward with both elbows on the desk. "So... what are you willing to offer, Mister Morgain?"
Trafalgar t her gaze calmly, even though his mind was racing.
Trafalgar kept his expression steady, though inside he was weighing his words carefully. "What could I possibly give soone like you? You’re one of the four directors of this academy. Money or trinkets wouldn’t an anything."
Selara’s lips curled into a sly smile. She tapped her pen against the desk, eyes glittering with amusent. "Ahh, smart boy. You’re right. I already have more gold than I’ll ever spend, more trinkets than I know what to do with. Things bore ."
She leaned back in her chair, rocking it dangerously on two legs. "What I like are experiences. New tastes. New feelings. That dish you made today? That was fun. Do that again—many tis. Surprise . Make my tongue dance, make my head spin, and maybe I’ll be entertained enough to help."
Trafalgar frowned slightly, then nodded. "Food... that, I can manage."
Selara raised a finger. "But don’t misunderstand. Food alone won’t cut it. If you want to craft sothing powerful enough to find soone, you will fetch the materials. Rare herbs, stones, beast parts, mana-ink. I won’t lift a finger to gather them. I’ll give you the list, and you’ll do the running."
She rummaged through one of her overflowing pockets and slapped a folded parchnt onto the desk. It was stained, slightly burned at the edge, and slled faintly of vinegar. "There. That’s your shopping list. So things are simple, others... well, they bite back. Have fun."
Trafalgar picked it up, his eyes scanning the strange symbols and rare nas. He tucked it safely away. "I understand."
Selara smirked, lowering her glasses to peer at him over the rim. "Good. Make delicious food, fetch the impossible, and maybe—maybe—I’ll help you."
Trafalgar gave a faint smile. "Then we have a deal."
For a mont, silence hung between them. Trafalgar held the parchnt tightly, its rough edges scratching against his palm. He gave Selara a small bow, more out of respect than habit.
"Then I’ll start preparing," he said evenly.
Selara waved her hand dismissively, already scribbling notes into one of her many journals. "Go on, then. I expect good food next ti. Don’t disappoint , boy."
Trafalgar turned, walking toward the door.
Once outside the building, the air felt cooler, calr. Students were dispersing across the courtyard, so laughing, so exhausted from the day’s lessons. Trafalgar ignoring the chatter. His path wasn’t toward the dormitories. He had another destination in mind.
’Velkaris,’ he thought, the na rolling like steel across his mind. ’Looks like I’ll have to use my new place for the first ti now.’
He made his way to the station, blending into the evening crowd. The mana-powered train lood ahead, glowing faintly under the setting sun. Trafalgar boarded the first wagon reserved for wealthy and powerful people.
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