Life, for the most part, had always been predictable. Wake up, practice magic, be the best—rinse, repeat.
By the time I was twenty, I could've rivaled the strongest mages alive. Astoria's Grand Council would have gladly handed me a seat, perhaps begged me to take it. I had the raw talent, the discipline, and an unrelenting hunger to be exceptional.
But I chose cooking.
Not because it was easy it wasn't. Not because it was glamorous it rarely is. I chose it because cooking is alchemy in its purest form.
Transforming raw ingredients into something extraordinary, something that could bring a person to tears or laughter with a single bite that felt more profound than any spell I'd ever cast.
It was tangible, immediate. Magic's allure paled in comparison.
