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The afternoon sunlight spilled through the windows of Flame’s base, casting long golden streaks across the polished stone floor.
Chests lined the walls in neat rows, every label perfectly placed and every resource sorted with almost obsessive care.
Potions sat arranged by color and effect, ores stacked evenly, and spare armor gleamed faintly beneath the lantern light.
Lomedy stood in front of one of the brewing chests, blinking twice before letting out a quiet laugh.
“You seriously organize your healing potions by strength level?” he asked, lifting a bottle carefully between his fingers. The corner of his mouth tugged upward with amusement as he turned toward Flame. “That’s… honestly kinda impressive, dude.”
Flame adjusted awkwardly, clearly unused to compliments that weren’t related to combat. He avoided eye contact for a moment before giving a small shrug.
“It’s easier to find things that way.” he answered simply. “If stuff’s misplaced, it wastes time.”
Lomedy snorted softly. “You make organizing sound like life-or-death.”
“It can be.” Flame replied without hesitation.
That answer only made Lomedy laugh harder.
The two continued sorting through supplies together, the room filled with the quiet clinks of glass bottles and rustling item frames.
Every now and then Lomedy would purposely place something in the wrong chest just to watch Flame immediately notice and silently fix it with a tired expression.
But in the middle of arranging the remaining potions—
Grrrlll…
The sound echoed embarrassingly through the room.
Flame froze.
Lomedy slowly turned his head toward him.
“…Was that your stomach?” he asked.
Flame’s face immediately heated up. “No.”
“It literally growled loud enough to scare the cows outside.”
Flame crossed his arms defensively. “I forgot to eat earlier.”
Lomedy stared at him for a few seconds, disbelief slowly spreading across his face.
“…Okay.” he began carefully. “Do you at least have food stored somewhere?”
Flame hesitated.
That hesitation alone was already enough to worry Lomedy.
“…Flame.”
“…I have food.” Flame said wryly.
Lomedy sighed in relief. “Okay, good.”
“…Golden apples.”
The silence afterward was deafening.
Lomedy looked genuinely horrified.
“WAIT—THAT’S ALL YOU EAT?!” he practically shouted, nearly dropping the potion in his hand. “Gapples?! Everyday?!”
Flame blinked at him. “…Yeah?”
“‘Yeah’?!”
Lomedy placed both hands dramatically over his chest like he had just received devastating news.
“Flame, you can’t survive on enchanted apples forever!” he exclaimed. “There’s an entire world of food out there! Sweet berries! Mushroom stew! Pumpkin pie! Bread fresh out the furnace! Suspicious stew! Cookies!”
Flame tilted his head slightly. “Suspicious stew sounds threatening.”
“That’s not the point.”
Lomedy groaned loudly and rubbed his face in exasperation. Being a farmer meant he spent nearly all his time around crops, animals, and cooking anyway, so hearing that Flame barely ate actual meals felt almost criminal to him.
Especially because Flame was always around him.
Did that mean this guy genuinely never bothered eating proper food unless someone reminded him?
Lomedy pointed accusingly at him.
“No wonder you look tired half the time.”
“I fight people for a living.”
“And food HELPS with that!”
Flame quietly looked away after that, almost sheepish.
Lomedy’s expression softened a little at the sight.
“…Okay.” he said, calmer this time. “Then tell me what sounds good right now. Any meal at all. I’ll make it.”
Flame thought for a moment while absentmindedly rotating a potion bottle in his hands.
Lomedy expected him to say steak.
Or rabbit stew.
Or maybe baked potatoes.
But instead—
“…Cake.”
“…What?” Lomedy blinked.
Flame shifted awkwardly under the stare. “Cake sounds good.”
For once in his life, Lomedy was completely speechless.
“You…” he started slowly. “You want cake?”
Flame nodded quietly. “Something sweet.”
Lomedy stared another second before suddenly grinning.
“Well alright then.” he laughed. “Guess we’re making cake.”
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A little while later, ingredients covered nearly every surface of Flame’s kitchen.
Buckets of milk sat near the counter while sugar, wheat, and eggs were carefully piled beside them. Lomedy moved around the room with practiced ease, already cracking eggs into bowls and measuring ingredients without even thinking twice about it.
Meanwhile, Flame stood there staring at the recipe book like it had personally offended him.
“You look terrified.” Lomedy teased while whisking ingredients together.
“I don’t cook.”
“You literally just follow instructions.”
“That’s still cooking.”
Lomedy laughed before pointing toward the milk buckets.
“Can you hand those over?”
Flame picked them up carefully and placed them beside Lomedy, though the second he did—
Lomedy suddenly gasped dramatically.
“Oh wait.”
Flame immediately narrowed his eyes. “…What.”
“We should make this interesting.”
“…I don’t like that tone.”
Lomedy leaned against the counter with a mischievous grin.
“Let’s have a ‘Bake off’!!”
Flame stared blankly.
“…A what.”
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“A challenge dude!” Lomedy explained excitedly.
“We both make a cake in fifteen minutes. We judge based on time, decoration, and taste.”
Flame looked deeply unconvinced already.
“I’m going to lose.” Flame grumbled.
“No you won’t! There’s literally a recipe book!”
“That doesn’t magically make me good at baking.”
“That’s the fun part.” Lomedy giggled.
Flame sighed heavily, already regretting agreeing to any of this.
“And what exactly is the point of this ‘challenge nonsense’?” he asked flatly.
Lomedy pointed at him dramatically.
“The loser has to do whatever the winner wants.” Lomdey exclaimed brightly.
“…That sounds oddly-terrifying—given by your confidence.” Flame knew that whatever Lomedy request is, its going to be ridiculous.
“It’ll be fiiine.”
Flame narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
But eventually—
“…Fine.”
“YES!!!” Lomedy slammed his hands against the counter excitedly.
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“Three…”
Lomedy grabbed his ingredients.
“Two…”
Flame nervously opened the recipe book again.
“One!”
The kitchen exploded into chaos.
Lomedy moved quickly and confidently, mixing ingredients together with smooth practiced motions while humming happily to himself. He measured almost perfectly without needing to double-check anything, tossing sugar and wheat together with ease.
Flame, meanwhile, looked like he was fighting for his life.
He accidentally cracked an egg too hard and stared in horror as bits of shell fell into the bowl.
“…This is awful.” he muttered.
“You’re doing great!” Lomedy called out while trying not to laugh.
“I hate this.”
Despite all his complaining though, Flame stayed focused.
His tongue poked slightly against his cheek while he carefully followed each recipe step one-by-one, treating the process with the same seriousness he gave combat training.
When he poured too much sugar once, he immediately restarted the mixture entirely.
Lomedy noticed that and blinked.
“You remade the whole thing just because of one mistake?”
“It needed precision.. thats how its made right..?”
“…You’re baking a cake, not forging armor.”
Flame turned and ignored him.
The smell of sugar and fresh batter slowly filled the room while the furnaces warmed the cakes inside.
Lomedy decorated his first, adding strawberries and whipped cream carefully across the top.
Flame stared at his own cake for several seconds.
“…How do you decorate this.”
“With creativity, bro!” Lomedy said with a soft laugh with ease.
“That did not answer the question.” Flame said flatly.
Eventually, after much struggling, Flame awkwardly placed sweet berries around the edges in an attempt to make it look presentable.
It looked slightly uneven.
But honestly?
It was kinda cute, because he tried and gave it his efforts.
Fifteen minutes later—
“DONE!” Lomedy announced proudly.
Flame placed the final berry down half a second afterward and immediately groaned.
“I lost on time.”
“By HALF a second.”
“That is still losing.”
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The judging process somehow became even more chaotic.
For decoration, Lomedy clearly won.
His cake looked clean, balanced, and genuinely pretty.
Flame’s looked like it had gone through emotional distress.
But taste?
Shockingly close.
Lomedy blinked after taking another bite of Flame’s cake.
“…Wait.”
Flame looked nervous immediately. “What.”
“This is actually really good.”
Flame stared.
“…Really?”
“Yeah.”
The tiny bit of pride that flashed across Flame’s face lasted only a second before he hid it behind another cough.
Still—
With points combined together, Lomedy barely won overall.
Flame groaned dramatically and crossed his arms.
“Bro, this challenge was rigged.”
“You literally agreed to it.”
“You manipulated me.”
Lomedy laughed so hard he nearly dropped his slice of cake.
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Eventually, after cleaning everything up, the two wandered outside toward the fields behind Lomedy’s farm. The sunset painted everything orange and gold while animals wandered lazily through the grass nearby.
Lomedy crouched down near an empty patch of dirt.
Flame eyed him suspiciously.
“…So.” he began. “What’s your request.” as he was bracing himself from the sheer thought of something he obnoxiously thought of.
Lomedy hummed thoughtfully before smiling softly.
“Help me make a tiny wheat field here.”
Flame blinked.
“…That’s it?”
“Mhm.” Lomedy nodded.
“…Why?” Flame asked with his ears perking up with curiosity.
Lomedy rested his arms over his knees while looking out toward the open fields.
“I dunno.” he admitted quietly. “Sometimes I just wanna lay down in the wheat and relax for a while after farming.”
Flame looked caught off guard by how simple the request was.
Lomedy just… wanted that? Flame completely forgot how much of a wild card Lomedy was, his spectrum of wanting what to do could either be simple or be too spontaneous.
After a moment, Flame sighed quietly.
“…Alright.” Flame hummed.
Lomedy’s face immediately brightened.
And not long after, the two worked side-by-side beneath the setting sun, carefully planting rows of wheat together while the evening breeze drifted softly across the fields.
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