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The chef didn’t look up from his potatoes. "Incidentally, Miss Briggs, I must say I agree with your father. To give up on your Alchemy degree after one bad test, at the first sign of difficulty is a pitiable response from a mind as brilliant as yours. Even the dragon sleeps. Everyone slips. Don't cast away your potential just because it involves hard work or may be a dance of progress and setbacks. I look forward to meeting that chef, that alchemist, or whatever else you may become. One setback should never deter you … and that cat was healed as good as new!"

As he spoke, there was a rare break in the near constant clouds allowing light to bleed on to the counter in sharp little shards. It deceptively almost looked warm out, but she didn’t dare open the window and break the illusion.

"I know... I just, like, think maybe I'm not really ready for that. Being an alchemist sounds super serious. Not that being serious is bad... it's just that, well, I don't think they'd laugh at my jokes there. And I know most people might not say this, but it's true. If you don't love what you're doing, why even do it, right? I'm sure I could love it, but it's not like a Love At First Sight kind of thing... you know what I mean?"

"The problem with that is, we can go on thinking that someday we'll do something that isn't just easy and lovely, and we can comfortably believe that .. in ‘Someday’ until the day we die. I don't believe in this concept of 'readiness' you speak of. In my field, at our academy, there are only those who do the work and those who wash out. You're talking about the easy part right now, the prep work, the cooking, a little sautéing. But that's not what it means to be a true professional. You can't avoid the competition or the seriousness of the pursuit of excellence, and you cannot find passion in mediocrity.”

He took a breath to make sure he wasn’t badgering this child.

“I just mean don't expect a hobby, a skill, a moment to be like a Prince Charming, delivering you. Be the passion yourself! There's a fire in you, Miss Briggs. But it must be kept stoked! Never cook without it, and never tackle anything without it!”

Moya beamed up at him before quick chopping her row of carrots. If she noticed any jealousy over her elven dexterity, she said nothing.

“If you can view excellence in the way of RhosynGaard, you won't see it as a chore or work, but as your opportunity. While you have it, cherish it. There are many out there who'd give anything to be in your shoes, and to have the skills and chances you do." He softened his tone with a shrug, feigning indifference.

She nodded, nodded, nodded. "Still... you have to find something you have that passion for, yes?" She paused for a moment, deep in thought. "And here I am, after two years and a playset, still cooking! I'm really doing it! I'm just as amazed as anyone else. Father says that closet chest is a graveyard of abandoned hobbies, but I’m here aren’t I? I like this. It keeps my mind and my hands busy."

Despite himself he could hear his own annoyance.

"No! That is the myth. That is the great misconception!" He shook his head in disbelief. "The passion and drive have to come from you. Or it does not come at all. It's not something that happens to you. It's something you must do. It saddens me to see how easily you throw your hand at obstacles, how you rob yourself of that chance to overcome, to grow, to feel your own strength. You must believe in it enough to test it, use it, require it."

As he continued, his tone became more earnest, addressing Moya's concerns head-on. "No, I don't think you're too young for that. With a few more years training and your consistency, who knows! Speaking frankly, I think it’s that you're scared of hard work and you quit what you’re not immediately good at."

"Honestly, this is the only thing I have ever kept up," she tells him. "Prepping veggies...people hate it but you know...it's not tedious. Knowing my spices, my herbs and creating something...it's nice. I like it. And whoever says cooking isn't hard work, well, they just don't know."

"Mmhm.. but there's smells and tastes, and it's nice and lovely…yes? A Skinner Box of constant reward, but sometimes--”

"This is science. This is my Alchemy! If you can make a perfect roast chicken, with all the right herbs and sauce and just the perfect carrots...that might as well be a love potion, huh? I hear for some men it is!" Her laughter bubbled up at her own analogy.

The chef said nothing else, giving her the time and space to hear her own thoughts – or focus on the work. To tell her how tender her chicken dishes already were would probably ruin her.

Description

The chef didn’t look up from his potatoes. "Incidentally, Miss Briggs, I must say I agree with your father. To give up on your Alchemy degree after one bad test, at the first sign of difficulty is a pitiable response from a mind as brilliant as yours. Even the dragon sleeps. Everyone slips. Don't cast away your potential just because it involves hard work or may be a dance of progress and setbacks. I look forward to meeting that chef, that alchemist, or whatever else you may become. One setback should never deter you … and that cat was healed as good as new!"

As he spoke, there was a rare break in the near constant clouds allowing light to bleed on to the counter in sharp little shards. It deceptively almost looked warm out, but she didn’t dare open the window and break the illusion.

"I know... I just, like, think maybe I'm not really ready for that. Being an alchemist sounds super serious. Not that being serious is bad... it's just that, well, I don't think they'd laugh at my jokes there. And I know most people might not say this, but it's true. If you don't love what you're doing, why even do it, right? I'm sure I could love it, but it's not like a Love At First Sight kind of thing... you know what I mean?"

"The problem with that is, we can go on thinking that someday we'll do something that isn't just easy and lovely, and we can comfortably believe that .. in ‘Someday’ until the day we die. I don't believe in this concept of 'readiness' you speak of. In my field, at our academy, there are only those who do the work and those who wash out. You're talking about the easy part right now, the prep work, the cooking, a little sautéing. But that's not what it means to be a true professional. You can't avoid the competition or the seriousness of the pursuit of excellence, and you cannot find passion in mediocrity.”

He took a breath to make sure he wasn’t badgering this child.

“I just mean don't expect a hobby, a skill, a moment to be like a Prince Charming, delivering you. Be the passion yourself! There's a fire in you, Miss Briggs. But it must be kept stoked! Never cook without it, and never tackle anything without it!”

Moya beamed up at him before quick chopping her row of carrots. If she noticed any jealousy over her elven dexterity, she said nothing.

“If you can view excellence in the way of RhosynGaard, you won't see it as a chore or work, but as your opportunity. While you have it, cherish it. There are many out there who'd give anything to be in your shoes, and to have the skills and chances you do." He softened his tone with a shrug, feigning indifference.

She nodded, nodded, nodded. "Still... you have to find something you have that passion for, yes?" She paused for a moment, deep in thought. "And here I am, after two years and a playset, still cooking! I'm really doing it! I'm just as amazed as anyone else. Father says that closet chest is a graveyard of abandoned hobbies, but I’m here aren’t I? I like this. It keeps my mind and my hands busy."

Despite himself he could hear his own annoyance.

"No! That is the myth. That is the great misconception!" He shook his head in disbelief. "The passion and drive have to come from you. Or it does not come at all. It's not something that happens to you. It's something you must do. It saddens me to see how easily you throw your hand at obstacles, how you rob yourself of that chance to overcome, to grow, to feel your own strength. You must believe in it enough to test it, use it, require it."

As he continued, his tone became more earnest, addressing Moya's concerns head-on. "No, I don't think you're too young for that. With a few more years training and your consistency, who knows! Speaking frankly, I think it’s that you're scared of hard work and you quit what you’re not immediately good at."

"Honestly, this is the only thing I have ever kept up," she tells him. "Prepping veggies...people hate it but you know...it's not tedious. Knowing my spices, my herbs and creating something...it's nice. I like it. And whoever says cooking isn't hard work, well, they just don't know."

"Mmhm.. but there's smells and tastes, and it's nice and lovely…yes? A Skinner Box of constant reward, but sometimes--”

"This is science. This is my Alchemy! If you can make a perfect roast chicken, with all the right herbs and sauce and just the perfect carrots...that might as well be a love potion, huh? I hear for some men it is!" Her laughter bubbled up at her own analogy.

The chef said nothing else, giving her the time and space to hear her own thoughts – or focus on the work. To tell her how tender her chicken dishes already were would probably ruin her.