The morning sun spilled golden light through the canopy of the mana tree, dappling the forest floor in dancing brilliance. A light breeze stirred the leaves, carrying with it the promise of spring, and the faint scent of something ominously metallic and slightly burnt.
"Check the runic layering again. It's still fluctuating," Yuuna muttered, crouched low beside a circular metal structure embedded with glowing etchings.
Fuhiken frowned, brushing ash from his gloves. "Runes are stable, but the crystal socket's warming too fast. I think it's leaking mana."
"That's what caused Explosion III," Yuuna said without looking up. Her voice was even, expression unreadable, fingers tapping her notebook with a slow rhythm. "We'll try again. Set fire attenuation to tier I. Keep the throttle sealed."
Orchid leaned cautiously over a bench stacked with tools and burned schematics. "Um... should we put up the blast shield?"
"We're past the blast shield phase," Yetsan said dryly, planting his lance beside him and activating a translucent mana barrier. "We're in the pray-it-doesn't-erupt-on-ignition phase."
The team had been at it for a week. The objective was simple: create a compact, portable stove fueled by fire-element mana stones. The execution, however, had been anything but.
Magic Stove I had exploded five seconds after ignition. The ignition rune had barely flickered to life before a sharp whine split the air. A heartbeat later, the entire structure burst in a fireball of overcharged mana and smoke. The metal frame twisted like paper, and a scorched frying pan embedded itself in the workshop ceiling with enough force to hang there like a bizarre chandelier. Fuhiken had only just managed to drag Yuuna behind a bench in time, while Orchid had hidden under a table, whimpering. It took the rest of the morning to extinguish the smoldering remains and retrieve Yetsan, who'd been flung into a bush ten meters away.
Magic Stove II melted through its base and created a crater. Not an explosion, technically, but somehow more dramatic. The moment the fire rune was activated, the stove let out a wheeze, yes, a wheeze, like it knew what was about to happen and wanted no part of it. Then, with all the grace of a sulking volcano, it began to glow red-hot. The base liquefied, the legs sagged like overheated cheese sticks, and the entire contraption sank through the wooden table, scorched the workshop floor, and vanished into the soil below. The smoke detector rune flared bright purple in protest as the team stared in horrified silence at the gaping crater, steam hissing up like the breath of an offended earth spirit. Fuhiken later called it a controlled meltdown. Yuuna simply labeled it: Failure. Notes: Stove II demonstrated excessive downward ambition.
Magic Stove III had launched itself into the sky like a small, furious sun, a blazing phoenix of culinary miscalculation. The ignition started peacefully, almost deceptively so, with a gentle flicker of light. But then the fire rune over-saturated, the containment circle buckled, and the stove gave a majestic shudder as if flexing with purpose. In the span of a heartbeat, it rocketed skyward, trailing sparks, smoke, and the unmistakable scent of half-cooked omelet. It spun once, twice, then exploded high above in a glittering rain of egg fragments and scorched mana script. Yetsan dubbed it 'the Great Breakfast Ascension.' Yuuna simply wrote: Failure. Notes: Stove III exhibits aerodynamic tendencies and delusions of grandeur.
And now, Magic Stove IV.
It hummed softly. The mana crystal nestled in its core pulsed in quiet rhythm. The runes glowed steady. Yuuna slowly cracked an egg into a cast-iron pan. It sizzled. Fuhiken held his breath. Orchid watched, hands clutched over her chest. Yetsan stared, poised to react.
The egg cooked, beautifully, evenly, without drama. No hissing pressure buildup, no sudden mana surge, and most importantly, the egg remained on the pan instead of being launched into the stratosphere. For the first time in the history of their stove trials, breakfast did not attempt to achieve flight or spontaneous combustion.
Yuuna lifted a corner with the spatula, inspected the color, and gave a single nod. "Operational."
Orchid gasped, clapping her hands. "It works! It really works! No fireballs, no boom, just... breakfast!"
Yuuna made a note: Magic Stove IV: Stable combustion confirmed. Heat regulation acceptable. Suitable for field use.
The small group stood in reverent silence as Yuuna slid the egg onto a plate and took a bite.
She chewed, paused, and gave her review: "Adequate."
"That's high praise coming from her," Yetsan said, stepping forward to try it.
Fuhiken chuckled and tried a piece himself. "We should mass-produce it. This could make outdoor cooking manageable."
Orchid looked up eagerly. "Do you think I could make chocolate pancakes on it?"
"No," Yuuna and Yetsan answered simultaneously.
Yuuna glanced at the stove, her gaze lingering longer than usual. Something warm stirred inside her, a quiet echo of a memory.
In another world, she had never needed to worry about flame control or explosions. Food came pre-prepared or was synthesized on command. Perfect, tasteless, sterile. This, this trial-and-error, the smell of cooked yolk, the uncertainty, was better. Real.
"We'll test it under wind conditions next," she said, her voice cutting through the soft moment like always. "Simulated breeze and rain exposure. Then duration testing."
"Yuuna," Fuhiken said, smiling. "You can enjoy the moment a bit, you know. We made fire. Well... controlled fire."
She blinked. Then wrote in her notebook: Team morale: high. Cooking success correlates with mood elevation.
Yetsan smirked. "Next entry: stove developed feelings."
Yuuna paused, then scribbled something else: Unlikely, but stove resonance patterns resemble low-level mana empathy signature. Study further.
They spent the rest of the morning testing small dishes, roasted root vegetables, flatbread, even a few daring strips of mana beast jerky. The stove held steady.
Fuhiken drafted safety guidelines while Yetsan proposed modular upgrades. Orchid began sketching overly ornate designs for aesthetic versions of the stove. Yuuna continued adjusting rune alignments and monitoring core mana levels.
The project was a success.
And yet, none of them really said it aloud. It was something understood in the peaceful clatter of tools, the quiet crunch of fresh bread, and the rare warmth behind Yuuna's usual blank expression.
Later that day, they packed up the stove and brought it back to the workshop. The others weren't there, some were training, others helping with village chores, but the moment the stove was revealed, curious eyes gathered.
Thus, the first stable prototype of the Magic Stove marked the beginning of something new. It was not a grand spell, a mythic weapon, or a world-altering relic.
It was just a stove.
But in its gentle flame, twelve young elves saw possibility. And Yuuna, watching them quietly from the corner of the room, thought perhaps this world wasn't such a bad place after all.
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