Luka and Franky found Eve sitting in the garden outside the courtyard. Judge Ben had a green thumb, meticulously pruning and planting the overgrown area. Bushes, each with budding colorful flowers, lined the stonework around the side closest to the lake and wrapped around the back. Creeping up the walls were thick-stemmed vines, each with ripened bean pods growing between the leaves.

Flowers mixed in with vegetable roots and fruiting plants, lining various mulched rows. Some fruits were big, others small, but most, if not all, were varieties Luka had never seen before. Most were unripe, stuck in purgatory green and waiting for their flesh to sweeten or their seeds to become blazing hot.

Regardless of what was growing, two pairs of annoyed eyes glared at Luka and Franky as they entered the garden. Sebby and Leo stuck out from the greenery like fish in the desert. Their gray and white fur clashed against the brown dirt and blooming purple flowers, though the beauty didn’t soothe them in the slightest.

“Sorry, bud,” Franky said to Sebby, dropping off the sack of meat. “You know shopping is boring for wolves.”

Sebby growled.

“I know, I know. But no one will give you samples anymore. You’re too big.”

Leo perked up at that.

“You are too,” Franky said to him.

Leo deflated.

Luka chuckled at the scene. “If it makes you feel better, Leo, I’ll take you along. But Franky’s right, you’re just too big to fit inside the shops.” The pup whined, long and low. Luka brushed his neck tenderly. “I wish you could shrink and grow whenever you want.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Luka spotted Eve and Franky sharing a glance. He turned and stared, Leo doing the same.

Eve sighed. “Most orcs want their mounts to be as large as possible. Strength in size, you know?”

“No?” Luka crossed his arms and lifted his chin at her. Leo mimicked the stance the best he could. “It’s not like I’d want to permanently change Leo’s size. But I’d be nice for him to be able to enter the bar with me or curl up on the bed with me and take a nap.”

Franky squirmed a bit. “This must be a World Walker thing—or maybe a human?”

Luka frowned. “I take it from your expressions Leo changing size is possible. What I don’t understand is why you two are being weird about it. If Leo wanted to change size, then more power to him. If not, it’s all the same. What’s wrong about that?”

The sibling and Sebby collectively said, “Ohhhhh.”

Eve chuckled to herself. “That makes a lot more sense.” She waved a hand. “Miscommunication. We thought you wanted the ability to change Leo’s size and not let him dictate—which is horrible and is outlawed almost everywhere.”

“You’ll need to hire a magical beast trainer,” Franky added. “Someone who can speak to animals as well as cast the required spells. And Leo would have to agree, of course.”

The wolf barked, wagging his fluffy tail.

“Doesn’t seem like that’ll be an issue,” Luka said, smiling. “Know where I can find someone like that? Sol?”

The siblings made a face. “She’s not a beast trainer,” Eve answered, “let alone a magical beast trainer—don’t let her raven confuse you. That thing is actually dead and stuffed.”

Franky glared at her. “I thought we agreed to make it a surprise.”

“I—well, yeah. But you know as well as I do Sol is not the one to go to for beast companion advice.”

“If not her, then who?” Luka asked.

“You’d have to go to the city. Or maybe one might book a night at Mr. Todd’s.”

Franky added, “We used to have one living in the village, but she moved to the city years ago. She’s great. I can introduce you.”

Luka gave Leo a great big scratch. “The city it is. I do want to see it, though I doubt it will compare to the beauty out here. What’s it called again?”

“Sneerhome,” Eve said the word slowly, almost painfully. “You’re not thinking of moving to the city, right?”

He shook his head. “Nope. I do want to visit the sights and soak in the culture. But like I said, I’m staying here for the foreseeable future. It’s cozy here.”

“That it is, that it is.” Frank pushed Sebby’s massive nose away from the bag of meat. “What’s the plan for lunch?”

“Lunch and dinner,” Luka said tiredly. “I get the feeling we bought way too much meat.”

“That’s probably true—though I think Hern gave you more than she was supposed to.”

“Oh, well, that was nice of her. I’ll think of something to pay her back later. For now,” Luka held up the fence posts, “I’ve got a griddle to make.”

“Not in the garden,” Eve quickly said. “Ben doesn’t like people messing with it. Come on, follow me.”

She led them around the front to a set of stone tables. Olive the dire-emu stood nearby, stock still between two fern-like plants.

“What’s with her?” Luka asked.

Eve gave a dejected sigh. “Ben yelled at her like a year ago for eating a row of fireflamelilies, and now whenever we come by the garden, she hides. Just ignore the bird brain.”

Luka grunted and found a nice spot to build. Just like the pizza oven, he told himself, foundation, base, and griddle.

A horde of nearby rocks reacted to Luka’s will, flying over with strands of magic connected to them. The stone melted together, forming a perfect rectangle just over waist high. Rough texture caved into it, replenishing the natural look while hollowing the inside.

Franky and Eve did say I could use any rock that wasn’t already in use, he thought to himself as he revealed a patch of dead grass and earthworms.

Meanwhile, the fence posts devolved into a rounded lump, fusing together before flattening out smoothly. Luka added a cured edge and grease trap, two things no burger grill could go without. The strands filled his vision, meshing the griddle top into the stone base, fitting them firmly.

Luka pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket. It held several need-to-know glyphs, but he only needed one right now. Etching it into the wrought iron, he made sure to add a small additional function—an off/on switch.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

In theory, a switch was an easy addition to a glyph, and for the most part, they were. They worked by cutting the power segment of the glyph from the rest of itself, thus rendering it inert until someone reconnected the “battery.” But it was in that simplicity Luka hesitated—the exploding rock from yesterday coming to mind.

It’s just an extra circle with a triangle inside, he reminded himself, carefully carving the glyph into the iron. No need to worry…

His magical strands made quick work of the glyph, easily creating it perfectly. Luka took a deep breath, double-checked his hand-drawn glyph, and then tapped the “on button.”

The iron warmed, soon growing hot.

Eve leaned over, inspecting it. She hummed and hmmed, touching her fingers directly to the iron. “I think you messed up the temperature regulator section of the glyph. It’s not that hot.”

“Not that hot for me or an orc?” Luka hesitantly asked.

She blinked a few times, touching the griddle again. “Both, I think.”

Sighing, Luka held his hand over the heat. She was right; the griddle would never get hot enough to properly sear meat. “Can I adjust a glyph after creating it?”

She slowly nodded. “Under normal conditions, yes. But you directly added the glyph to the metal using magic. You’ll just have to test it.”

Cutting the power from the glyph, Luka did just that. His magical strands reconnected to the plate of iron, smoothing—erasing—the temperature-regulating section.

“So far so good. Mind helping out?” he asked, holding out his folded paper.

Eve took it, eying his work. “Yeah, I see the problem. Do you have a pe—” Luka held out his pen. She took it and adjusted the scribble. “Simple fix. Just elongate this and divert more power to it.”

She’s just pointing to arbitrary lines in the glyph, Luka thought, how does—

“You’ve got to remember,” Eve said, “heating-based glyphs are far more difficult than light-creating glyphs. They’re more organic and less structured. You’ll get a hang of it. Everyone struggles with the elemental variants when they first learn.”

“Mind if I check my work with you from now on?” Luka asked.

“Please, I’m glad to help.” Eve smiled big. “Now come on! I’m dying to try this smash ber-ger of yours!”

“Me too!” Franky yelled. Sebby then barked, then Leo.

“Okay, okay,” Luka laughed. He turned his attention to the iron plate, controlling his magic to make the changes. He tapped the on button and—

Eve touched the griddle and yanked her hand back. “It’s hot!”

Luka threw his hands up in the air. “You’re amazing, Eve!”

“Me?” She pointed at the grill. “What about this? This is amazing!”

“Stop flirting!” screeched Franky. “Get to cooking!” In the blink of an eye, Eve punched him in the stomach.

Luka chuckled, adding the finishing touch to the griddle—the kitchen glyph cluster. Contained in a single premade glyph, functionality like self-cleaning, non-stick, disinfectant, and scratch resistance, the cluster was one of the most used clusters in the world—if the tome of glyphs was to be believed, at least.

“And done!” he announced. “The meat, please, Franky.”

With a greedy smile, Franky hoisted the sack to the nearby table, opening it.

“The kids aren’t here yet,” Eve reminded.

Franky froze. “Do we have to wait?”

Luka didn’t have to think about the question. “Nope! I’m starved.” He reached into the sack and grabbed half a fist full. “And besides, we have to dial in the portion sizes before the kids get here—and everyone else for that matter.” He dropped the ball of meat on the griddle, proud of the sizzle that instantly sounded.

Franky’s eyes lit up. He reached in and grabbed a full fistful of meat, dropping it on the grill. Eve rolled her eyes, doing the same but taking a more reasonable amount than her brother.

“And now, for the magic,” Luka said, holding his hand outstretched. The strands in his vision connected to some rocks, pulling them over while molding them into utensils. In seconds, a circular meat pounder and spatula found his hand, ready to be used and inscribed with the kitchen cluster.

Luka smashed the balls of meat flat. A beat passed. “I forgot the salt!”

Franky lurched, eyeing the griddle. Then, as if he understood his duty as apprentice-smash-burger-maker, he whistled loudly at Sebby. “Come on, Seb! We’ve got to run to the bar and get salt!”

The wolf leaped from his sunning spot, landing right beside Franky. The orc grappled onto him, and the pair rode off with dust kicking up in their wake.

Eve and Luka watched him go, the grill sizzling away. They both started laughing.

“Franky’s a good guy.”

“The best brother I could have ever asked for.”

Luka smiled as he flipped the three burgers and added some crumbled cheese. “Where are the kids, anyway?”

“School.”

“Emberwood has a school?”

“Of course, the gods wouldn’t allow it any other way.” Eve pointed at the courthouse. “They’re right inside—they can probably smell the meat cooking.”

“What kind of stuff do they learn?” Luka asked. “Cause schooling on Earth, in most places, was top-notch.”

“Every school in this world gets the same education—same chances for the kids, too.”

Luka cut open a few of the buns. “What do you mean?”

“Long time ago, the gods enacted a ‘Divine Decree,’ making it so that every kid had the chance to go to school. If the kid couldn’t or didn’t have the means, a divine familiar will find them and teach them personally.”

“Kids can be taught to read and write by the gods?”

Eve pointed at her head, or rather, her brain. “Smart realization. At first, the divine familiars taught things most schools never would—advanced things, too advanced in many cases. So, the gods got together and created another Divine Decree, setting a universal standard of education. Of course, some schools—the expensive ones—teach more or teach differently, but all kids get around the same education.”

Luka slid the meat patties onto the mayonnaise-slathered buns. The baker, Iop, luckily had some fresh tomatoes that were also added once sliced. He held out a burger to Eve. They took a bite at the same time.

“This is good,” she mumbled, chewing.

“Needs salt!” Luka said with a smirk.

They both glanced down the road—Franky wasn’t back yet.

“What’s a divine familiar like?” he asked.

“Birds, mostly. Owls, specifically.”

Luka recoiled at that. I was thinking they’d be a bit more… divine. Like a dragon or hydra. But then again, would those be good teachers?

“Tram teaches the kids here,” Eve continued. “Though sometimes others take over depending on the subject. Tram’s famously bad at geometry and spelling.”

“Huh, I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“I know right? Tram’s a basket of oddities.”

“What about where the kids live?” Luka asked. “They all live together?”

“The courthouse was retrofitted for a bunch of kids, yeah.” Eve pointed at one of the building’s windows. “That window used to have bars on it from the jail inside. But there’s no real crime here, so now kids live there.”

“Convenient. And… kind of sad.”

She gravely nodded. “Terrible tragedy, their story. Our story, really.” Eve took another bite. “There’s Franky. That might be a record time from here to the bar.”

Luka chuckled. “I’ll make sure to give Sebby a nice-n-large patty.” A loud bark caught his attention. “And one for you too, Leo.”

The dire-wolf wagged his tail.

“The salt!” Franky yelled, leaping from his mount’s back. He landed in a crash, kicking up loose rocks and denting the soft ground. He held out his closed fist.

Tentatively, Luka reached his open palm under the orc’s. Franky opened his hand, letting fine-grain salt fall like sand.

“You couldn’t have brought it in a cup or something?”

Franky blinked a few times. “Oh. Yeah, I could have done that.”

Luka and Eve shook their heads, the former sprinkling some salt onto Franky’s oversized patty. Franky grabbed it with both hands, taking a massive bite.

“Hey, this is pretty good,” he said through smacking chews. He finished it in three bites, licking his fingers clean.

Throwing two more patties on the grill for the wolves, Luka asked, “Can I build the carousel near the courthouse?”

“I don’t see why not,” answered Eve. “As long as you don’t mess with Ben’s plants.”

“He really does love them,” Franky added.

Luka pointed to a flat spot near the edges of the main street leading across the village. It was close enough to the courthouse the kids could be seen from the outside tables, but far enough, their screams wouldn’t annoy anyone in the garden. “That good?”

“Probably.”

“Seems fine to me.”

“Alrighty, then,” Luka said. “Once these patties are done, I’ll hop on Leo to move the materials over.”