Elaine pushed open the door to the lighthouse. The moment she crossed the threshold, the radiance she normally emanated dimmed. Greeting them was a set of stone steps that spiralled up to the second floor.

  If memory served him correct, the kitchen was on the second floor, and the living quarters were on the third. Following that, it was just a bunch of storage space ending with the lantern room at the top. A large crystal enclosed by glass sat there. When night came, the lighthouse keepers—Elaine’s parents—would activate it, transforming the stone tower into a beacon of hope for all sailors that dared traverse the waters in such dangerous times.

  With her large hands still wrapped around his in a death grip, they ascended the stairs. Her face was slick with sweat, despite only having climbed up a couple of steps. Compared to when she scaled a cliff while carrying a person, she was drenched. With any luck, Elaine’s parents might be on the upper levels, and they wouldn’t have to run into them.

  Elaine was the first to pop her head into the second floor—because it was her home and not because she was taller than him. She came to a sudden stop, legs quaking as if they refused to climb the final few steps. Colby continued his ascent, only stopping when his head finally popped into the kitchen and he saw what Elaine had seen seconds prior.

  It was her parents.

  A stocky bald man, with arms thicker than his legs, pointed a kitchen knife at him. Speaking of legs, there was an odd set of them in the lighthouse. A wooden peg leg was strapped to the stump below his right knee.

  Next to him was a familiar face. It was like looking at an aged-up version of Elaine, minus the muscles that adorned her frame. Tall, red-haired, and pointing a knife at him, and only him, it was no wonder why they were married.

  “Elaine,” the man said. His voice was rough and gruff, as if he had spent his whole life shouting.

  “Father. Mother.”

  “Are you finally returning to us?” her mother asked.

  “She isn’t. Look at that.” Her father pointed at Elaine’s chest. An open oyster with a shining sapphire within it, held up by two massive waves.

  Her mother’s eyes grew wide, and she lost all strength in her fingers. The knife in her grasp clattered to the floor. She brought her hands to her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes.

  Elaine’s already painful grip grew even stronger. He’d be lucky to have a hand after this.

  Those tears. They weren’t ones of happiness, like what any other parent would bestow upon their child. They were filled with fear, regret, and sorrow.

  She rushed up to her daughter, embracing her.

  Elaine didn’t reciprocate.

  Her grip tightened even further. He could’ve sworn that he heard something pop. Colby bit down on his lip, holding back the urge to scream.

  “Elaine, please. Don’t do it. We can still run the lighthouse together. Just the three of us. We can be a happy family again. Just you, me, and your father. Elaine, please.”

  “Sorry, Mom. I’m just here to borrow a pot.”

  “You can have the pot,” her mom said. “You can have as many pots as you want. Just please leave the Knighthood. It’s not worth it.”

  “Listen to your mother, girl,” her father said in that gruff tone of his.

  “Listen to her? Both of you don’t even listen to me!” she yelled. “I’ll just grab the pot and go.”

  Elaine peeled her mother off her, finally taking those last few steps. She walked into the kitchen, with Colby following right behind her. But the moment he took a single step on the second floor, her father lunged forward, thrusting the kitchen knife straight at him.

  Thankfully, he stopped. The blade hovering inches away from his chest.

  Unthankfully, he was nearly dragged into the blade by Elaine’s strength.

  “And who gave you the right to enter my home?” he spat.

  Too scared to even speak, Colby simply pointed at Elaine with his free hand.

  Elaine grabbed her father’s forearm and pushed it toward the ground.

  “Don’t you dare,” she spat, mimicking the intensity of her father.

  “I dare?” he roared, “How dare you bring him into our house? The little demon spawn that stole you away from us.”

  “No one stole me. You were the ones who pushed me away. I thought that maybe you’d be more encouraging now that I’m a Knight-in-training. Guess I was wrong.”

  She snatched the knife away from her father and dragged Colby along towards one of the cabinets.

  The entire time, Colby smiled, showing off his milk white teeth—as if that could somehow mitigate the rage burning out of Elaine’s father and the sorrow weeping from her mother.

  Slamming open the wooden cabinet, she grabbed a metal pot, only to slam the door shut once again. After tossing the knife into the sink, she stomped back toward the stairs, dragging Colby along the whole time.

  “Please, Elaine,” her mother begged. “Please come back to us.”

  Her father clicked his tongue, glaring kitchen knives at Colby.

  He waved goodbye to them as they descended down the stairs—it was more like falling, thanks to Elaine.

  Outside, she slammed the door to the lighthouse, the wood rattling in its hinges.

  Above, Elaine’s mother’s sobs echoed out while her father’s rage-filled screaming filled the air, punctuated by the sharp crash of breaking glass.

  Colby’s mouth hung low.

  Curds!

  Was he…?

  “Don’t worry,” Elaine said, as if able to sense his thoughts even if they did trail off. “He’s a terrible father, but a loving husband. The only thing he’s breaking is a bunch of plates in his ‘rage room’... And me.”

  “Laine… I’m sorry. We shouldn’t have come here.”

  “It’s not your fault, Colby. I wanted to do it. Thank you for being there for me.”

  “Anytime, Laine. Anytime.”

  “Do you think we can take the long way?” she asked. “I just need some time.”

  “Of course,” he said. “Want me to carry you like how you carried me?”

  She snorted and shook her head. “Never change, Colby. Never change.”

  “Can I at least carry the pot?” he asked.

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  She smiled. The softness that had been ripped out of her returned as she handed him the metal pot.

  They walked down the path together in silence. Her hand still gripped his, though less like a vice grip. He didn’t dare to look down at the state of it. Somehow, jumping off a roof was less damaging than holding hands with a girl.

  Elaine looked up, watching the clouds drift by. It used to be her favorite activity before training to be a Knight claimed every spare hour.

  What could he do to cheer her up?

  Beat up her parents until they accepted her? Something told him that the only thing that was going to be beaten up was him.

  What else could he possibly do?

  There was only one thing he could think—technically, a million other things, but this was the one thing that might work.

  Closing one of his eyes and tucking the pot under his arm, he honed in on his Core.

  Inside, he found his Core Constructs, minus Stove and The Cheesetastic Fridge, gathered around Smart Waiter. They were patting him on the hatch, congratulating him on being the first Core Construct to reach Level 10. In The Cheestastic Fridge’s case, he opened and closed his door from all the way on the other side of his Core.

  When they noticed Colby, they rushed towards him and raised their noodle-like limbs into the air. He knew what that meant.

  Unfortunately, they weren’t praising him for being their creator. They were asking for a raise: both in the ‘pick me up’ sense and the ‘raising their levels’ sense.

  “Sorry, guys, not now. We have an emergency. It’s Elaine. We need to make the best cheese possible to cheer her up.”

  They saluted—well, everyone but Stove. That was quickly corrected by a slap from Temp-tation. He immediately saluted, which in his case involved turning on all of his burners.

  Colby walked to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of Daisy Cow milk. He poured the bottle’s contents into Pottingham along with the rennet and citric acid. Once the milk had been curdled, he grabbed Curd-Cutter and sliced it into a checkerboard pattern. After another heating session, Cheese Bowl and Bowl-lander fused together before using their combined strength to tip Pottingham’s contents into them.

  As usual, Pottingham cried over spilled milk. That was quickly remedied by pouring the last few drops of milk Colby had saved up for this occasion—a routine at this point.

  The fused Core Constructs attended to the mixture, draining the whey and kneading the curds. Once that was done, he picked up the perfect ball of mozzarella as well as Curd-Cutter. He ruined it by splitting the cheese into quarters, much to the chagrin of Bowl-lander.

  Angling the handle of his Core Construct at a single piece, he channeled the intent to ‘Cut the fluff.’ Mana poured into Curd-Cutter as he sliced through the softness, moving in semicircles around the lump. Rock-hard cheese dropped onto the floor only to be caught by Bowl-lander, who shook their four limbs at him.

  Finally, it was completed.

  In his hand, he held the fluffiest piece of cheese he could create.

  Congratulations! Curd-Cutter has reached level 9!

  Yes! His Core Construct had leveled up. Now, Curd-Cutter was slightly sharper—even his handle.

  Colby cut into the other three pieces. Taking advantage of Curd-Cutter’s new sharpness, he made sure to cut out as much fluff as possible.

  The hard bits were once again a problem for future him, left to hopefully not rot inside of The Cheesetastic Fridge.

  Opening the hatch of Smart Waiter, he placed all four pieces into the Core Construct.

  Closing the hatch, the cheese appeared in the real world.

  Congratulations! [Cheese Pillow] has leveled up to Level 2!

  Congratulations! [Cheesemaking] has leveled up to Level 13!

  Sweet. His mastery over the spell had increased. But that wasn’t important right now.

  Noticing something appearing in his hand, Elaine said, “Colby? What are you doing?”

  “What does it look like I’m doing?”

  “Playing with cheese,” she said flatly.

  “Okay, you’re technically right, but look again.”

  She leaned in closer, eyes widening when she realized what he held in his hand.

  “Are those…”

  “Yup, they're for you.”

  “Clouds!”

  She snatched the [Cheese Pillows] from his hands, giving them a quick squeeze.

  “They're so fluffy!” she squealed.

  “That's the point,” he said. “And they're really yummy too.”

  She let go of his hand, placing it on his shoulder. “Seriously, Colby. Never change.”

  What was she talking about? Why would he ever change? He might adjust the recipe depending on the ingredients, but that was what you were supposed to do.

  Elaine looked down at the cloud-shaped [Cheese Pillows] in her hand. She sighed, acting as if she didn't want to eat them.

  Wait, why?

  Did he mess up the cheesemaking process?

  No, he had done everything exactly the same. It was a standard recipe. Except…

  Could the extra fluffy texture really have that much of an impact? He hadn't even tasted it yet, and he was offering it to Elaine.

  Curds! He was the worst Cheesemancer in the world.

  Colby watched as Elaine brought the fluffy piece of cheese into her mouth. He watched her facial expressions, looking for any signs of the abomination he had just fed her. How bad was it?

  Her eyes widened. Fingers covering her lips as she chewed.

  Curds!

  It was that bad?

  She swallowed, a lump moving down her throat. “It's so yummy! And fluffy!” she squealed.

  “It is?” he said. “I mean… it is, isn't it!”

  “I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.”

  They continued to walk back down the cliff, across the beach, and towards the cove. Elaine devoured his cheese, making squealing noises after each one. Along the way, he picked up the pile of [Cheese Pillows] used to cushion his fall.

  Why?

  Because of the research loophole. Also, because it was technically littering. He was just going to ignore the multitude of other cheeses left on the street from their race.

  Finally, they made it back to the cove.

  Porter had cleaned up the mess to the best of his abilities. The lobster corpses had been separated into three piles: maybe edible, definitely inedible, and potentially edible, but are you willing to risk it?

  The official terms were: yes, no, maybe. But his was more fun.

  “Porter,” Elaine called out. “Did you do it?”

  “Yup,” he said, showing off his work.

  “And we got the pot!” Colby said, holding it high above his head with the hand that hadn’t been crushed into dust.

  “Great! I'll run and grab some firewood!”

  “Thanks, Port,” she said. “I'll start preparing dinner.”

  Elaine pointed a finger at the metal pot. A gush of water shot out of it as she cast [Spray].

  “Oh, and Colby. You can…” she looked around the cove. “Take a break, I guess?”

  “Oh, c'mon, Laine. I can help out.”

  “Can you wash the pot?”

  “No.”

  “Can you wash the sand off the lobster meat?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know how to deshell the lobster without ruining the meat even further?”

  “No.”

  “Do I need to go on?”

  “No.”

  He really was useless when it came to everything else but cheese. It's okay, everyone had their strengths. Unfortunately, cheese was his only strength.

  What should he do while waiting for Porter and Elaine to finish cooking dinner?

  Actually taste the cheese he had handed Elaine, instead of assuming it was good?

  Possibly.

  Analyze the other cheese spells to see how they could be improved? It was mostly to alleviate his guilt of wasting cheese.

  Or… He was along the beach. And you know what else grew along the beach?

  Shell Gingers!

  His mouth watered at the memory of the candied ginger mixed with mozzarella. It watered even more at the thought of coming up with a cheese combination that not even his mother had come up with yet.

  Yup, he knew what he was going to do.