[SE] Yeast of the Sun, Zest of the Moon

She's imperfect, but she tries She is good, but she lies She is hard on herself She is broken and won't ask for help Amalia is a student, not a teacher: she learns and questions and seeks and pursues. So Jigano's request had been a surprise, making her laugh in incredulity: Me? Teach? When I know nothing? Anxiety rising in her gut like a tide, she had twisted and resisted initially, believing herself utterly incompetent at educating another. Yet her time preparing for the festival had been jovial, the resulting labors of her friends filling her with pride. To see their wares alongside her own and know that she had played a part in making that happen made Fiat Lux that much brighter. She is happy to share the magic her grandmother left her to mix and mold, turn inedible ingredients into something delicious. And if there is anyone she need not fear embarrass herself before it is the silver bard, who has followed her into fire and still stays by her side. Thus Amalia acquiesced, and thus she finds herself today, waiting at the bakery counter for Jigano to arrive. She has devised a recipe for them to use featuring sunflower seeds and orange rind, a little ambitious but good nonetheless. The sunflower seeds make a surrogate sunlight; the orange, she hopes, will lend a warm color. They sit on the counter along with old standbys: flour and butter, eggs and sugar, nutmeg and brandy and mace. All she needs is company, and that is soon to arrive. "Hi, Jigano," she greets him warmly, smiling as Isuma and the bard slip inside. Jyoti trills from the baker's shoulder, where she has draped herself like a starlit scarf. "I thought we would make sunflower seed cakes, and use them in our baskets to capture the sun. Unless... unless you wanted to do something else...?" a m a l i a She is messy, but she's kind She is lonely most of the time She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie She is gone, but she used to be mine