Chapter 508: Divine Tongue

From once being rejected; the restaurant sparkled to welcome Igna. Waiters were at the ready to serve, the doorway led into a mournful ball of music. A dancing hall had been cleared for those who wished to partake in dancing. The orchestra to the director's credit was very much talented. They played through thick and thin. The groups formed per vestment and status. 'This sight sure brings back memories,' he entered. Few recognizable faces were here and there, students wore their uniforms. 

"Look," voiced a girl holding a teddy, "-he's back."

"The boy who fought the director," snarled the white-haired boy, "-I can't stand him." The entourage of the student council couldn't be laughed at either. Where one side hosted the rich and famous, his group hosted heirs of prominent families. A smile and gentle pleasantries exchanged. 

"President," said a rather reserved girl, "-why do you hate that boy so much?"

"Patricia," he turned obtusely, "-I want to speak none about him," the glance clawed at another special group, one within which stood red-collared chefs. The aura of prominence and confidence dominated the cold floor. 

'All these people,' thought Igna scanning across the faces, '-the different cliques. Why's there an event like this in the first place. Should it not be hosted after the exams?' The formal attire many wore, upon which he stared what he had, felt inadequate. They were well-dressed and mannered. The posh accent of needlessly pronouncing words with an added touch of 'pizzazz' grew tiring. Waking turned to tip-toeing, '-I don't want to stand out.' He snuck in behind the buffet. From one end to the other rose the aroma of utter pleasure. 

Before he knew, the hands reached for a plate, forks and knives were out of the questions. Dish after dish, he took, gathered, examined, and walked away. 

"Nice choice," said a very short boy, "-the spices use in that curry is divine."

"What do you mean?" paused Igna.

"I mean," he walked up front, "-out of all the curries here, that one is the better. I know it by smell," to which he pointed at the face. "Do you have a good sense of smell like me?"

"No," he shrugged, "-I had a feeling it would be good."

"A feeling," the brows rose, "-are you joking with me?" it dropped to a frown.

"I'm serious. Besides," he took a bite, "-food is food. Now if you'd excuse me, I have to conquer a realm of civilized people." 

'What a strange person…'

He stood close to the shadow of a large pillar. The breeze of the outside didn't intrude much for it only grazed the ankle. The warmth of the dishes was enjoyed in large bites. 

"Juo, where have you been?" inquired the student council president.

"Browsing the buffet, president. What about you?" he tiptoed over the shoulder, "-are the ladies' company keeping you fine?"

"Shut it," cheeks reddened.

"Look at you," teased the girl caressing her teddy, "-blushing at the mere sight of thy crush. How very cute."

"Please," said he under his breath, "-Tristin, you can't do this to me."

"How the great virtuoso of ingredient, Kyle Darker, has fallen to the clutches of love and romance," jested Juo.

"Whatever," the shoulders straightened, '-damn,' the eyes locked to a very handsome lady, '-I can barely stare her in the face.' Amorous wants fit like a glove in the academy filled by the youth. Under the premise of learning, ulterior motives in forming relations to other prominent families loomed about. Many younger couples were formed by force. What could they expect, tis how the world worked, or so was the thought implanted. 

The doors opened briefly into silence; Chef Leko arrived in new attire. Many ladies of age glanced to exchange comments about the look. He took note and nodded. Kyle tried to approach, "-Director."

"Kyle, I have things to attend to, please see me after the ball." The exchange came cold as ice. He who only wanted to be acknowledge felt anger burn within. The face tightened into an unmistakable fury. "Tristin, I'm going." 

"Wait for me," replied she. The council left in due time. None took notice of the strange exchange, most assumed tis a visit to the washroom. Cutting the middle of the hall for the group of red-collared chefs, "-Hello again," said he courteously. 

"Greetings," said Lady Lordon. The circle around her opened, "-it's the second time we meet this evening."

"Yes," he smiled, "-I hope the event isn't much trouble."

"That you needn't worry," added a slightly tipsy Lord Lordon, "-we're used to these formal activities. So, tell me, where is he?" All eyes were on them. Comments went about, students cut short their banter. Rumors had it Chef Leko and Lady Yuki weren't on good terms. A baseless tension rose at the back. Here laid an example of how the media affected people's minds. 

"I understand," he nodded, "-where's Igna at, I'm sure I sent him to the ballroom?"

"Where Syndra," wondered Yuki, "-she disappeared too."

Sat atop a curb under a lamp, mosquitoes made rounds. Eating grew hard, the jarring little creatures would swoop in to suck the blood out the exposed hands. "Little pest," he shook them off, "-can't I eat in peace?" The last bite left the stomach famine for a little more. 'All that and I still want food,' head tucked between the knees, '-why did I run away from the hall… I regret it. Man, I want to get something else to eat but…'

"This is where you were," her warm hands covered his eyes as soon as he looked up.

'So gentle and soft. This perfume, I've smelled this before.'

"Guess who it is?"

"I don't know really," he touched the hand for more proof, "-Lady Syndra."

"Correct," she leaped in front, "-how are you doing?" she knelt.

"I'm good. Why are you kneeling, the dress's going to get dirtied."

"Don't worry about me," she laughed, "-it's been a long time, hasn't it."

"Yeah," they held one another up, "-you were featured in the Monthly Digest two months ago. Your palette has become something of priceless value. Lady Yuki must be so proud of you."

"Well," she sighed, "-tasting food has never been that fun to me. I must have acquired my aptitude for taste from my mother. It doesn't really matter; the article was just something to boost mother's restaurant a little. Anyway, why are you outside?"

"Came to get some fresh air."

"I saw you," she smiled, "-you're uncomfortable, isn't that right. The clothes aren't suited for such a grand soirée. I'd honestly enjoy wearing some joggers and a hoodie. The whole formal dress thing doesn't really fancy me."

"You're a pianist," said he, "-I've seen photos of you looking splendid on stage. Seeing La virtuose de Hidros in a formal dress up so close is very flattering."

"Stop being so sarcastic," she reached for a hug, "-I've sure missed you, Igna."

"Me too."

Hidden at the corner, white hair rested against the stone-bricked restaurant. 'What are they doing together… this can't be right. My fiancé can't be having an affair without my knowledge now, can she?' he turned the corner once more, '-even if I can't stare at her pretty face, my body can hardly control it. I want to have her for myself. Plating a dish is one thing, treating ingredients another… Syndra Lordon is of the rarest breed. I swear,' he faced away, '-if she's cheating on me… I'll make it damn obvious who I am.'

The embrace cut short, "-let's go over there," offered Igna.

"N-no," a slight discrepancy, "-why don't you show me around. Don't you know the academy?"

"No, I don't," the lips closed, "-whatever," it sprung to a smile, "-let's get lost together." 

'Éclair, search whoever was spying on us. I have a feeling something else I going on behind the scene. Syndra's acting weird.' 

'On it.'

A phone call ended the unplanned tour of the grounds. Leko gave a stern talking, to the point of demanding for Igna to show up. Thus, the duo walked sloppily, on one side stood the lady in dirtied clothes and Igna in equally as bad attire. Luckily, the director cunningly called them to a private room on the first floor. 

"Igna," said lady Yuki, "-where have you been?" she went in for a hug.

"Lady Yuki," he accepted the show of affection, "-you've come for the graduation exams?"

"No," she smiled, "-I've come to test you." 

"Test me?" he gulped.

"Hello Igna," a secondary flung by the energetic Joe. 

"Hey there," waved Emma, "-long time no see," added Emmy."

"I'm glad to see you're doing well," added the formal Manager Beatrice.

"Good, you haven't died," fired Chef Igona. The entirety of Loron made the long trip.

Taken aback, "-Is this really ok?" normally, leaving a restaurant unattended would hurt their reputation. The faction said side into the matter, Igna worried for them.

"Trust me," approached lady Yuki, "-we came here to fight you," the implications slowly settled in. "Cle will be hard. Everyone here has vouched for thy competence. Chef Leko relayed that you weren't doing so good lately. It's bad form, we're worried, not about reputation, but about you. Igna," she paused at Leko who then nodded., "-you'll always be a member of Loron. This is why," they all dawned the white apron bearing Loron's prestigious logo. Starting now until the competition, you'll take time to battle each one of us. I don't care about the cost, time, or effort. We, red-collared chefs, will show the divide between us. Dread if you haven't improved."

"Lady Yuki speaks true," added Igona, "-the basics can only take you so far. Show us what it means to cook like Igna, show us what you've learned on thy own."

"What about the graduation exams?" wondered he to Leko.

"Don't mention it," he scowled, "-the entirety of the first floor will be reserved for Loron. Go and lose, Igna, make mistakes, try, experiment, do whatever. The chefs from Loron will prove how much someone as talented as you has to aim for." Forget words of encouragement. This felt more of a mugging than anything else. The piercing pressure of the cooks altered his mindset. Long was the friendly attitude of the mentors gone. 

'This is what it feels like to be somewhat competent at something.' The gang before him stood stronger than an army. '-I feel their drive, the passion. It's similar to what I've experienced before. War is underway,' the bandana slowly made for the forehead, '-I'll prove I haven't been slacking for the past few months. Come on then,' tied firmly, "-who's first?" 

"The damned grin," laughed Joe, "-don't get cocky kid, this is the beginning of hell."

"Bring it on, chef." The scene was set, the ambidextrousness of moving about seemed to have imported. Yuki watched through a very critical lens. 

"Movement wise," added Emmy, "-he seems to have gotten faster."

"Sharper too," interjected Emma, "-just what has he been doing these past few months.

"Sister," voiced Emmy, "-do you feel that aura?"

"Yes," she gulped, "-it's there, dark and wanting to strike."

'Emma and Emmy Lymsey. The girls who were children when Kniq was about. Man, how time has passed. They are the same girl who cried per the death of their family. I don't quite remember much. My last memory is of them coming by the mansion in Rosespire. They went down the culinary path.' 

The first dish arrived in 30 minutes. Joe followed suit at 35 minutes. The tasting began, "-lacks consistency," voiced Yuki, "-the seasoning is a little off. The plating is off-putting, try again. This is a poor display. Joe's the clear winner here. Try again!" the more dishes were cooked, the harsher grew the feedback. An unclimbable wall built itself before him. The masons were Loron, the mentors. 

'The dishes are good, worthy of fine-dining establishment,' thought Beatrice, '-I do have to agree with Lady Yuki. Something feels off, the taste is there but the emotion isn't. She's judging him with her god-tongue, there's no way he'll be able to please her in that state.'