Strained eyes stared at the book in front of him. The numbers and formulas began swirling around inducing a throbbing headache. Focus eluded him as the seconds ticked by on the obnoxiously loud wall clock. He slipped his fingers under his glasses and pressed right below his eyes. The relief was only temporary, and as soon as he removed his fingers the headache returned with full force. Ignis momentarily thought about throwing his book at the wall. Knowing that it would be unbecoming of a future attendant of the prince, however, Ignis resigned to lightly thumping his head against the math book.
"You do know that is not how osmosis works, right?"
Ignis jumped up, nearly knocking his chair back, at the unexpected sound of his mother's voice. The petite woman couldn't help but giggle at her son's reaction.
"You've been in here all afternoon," she softly chastised as if he had been neglecting his family.
Ignis picked up his pencil and mumbled, "I have a lot of homework."
"You need a break…"
"No time for a break," he interrupted, impatiently running his hand through his dirty blonde hair. As he resumed looking over the problem he was stuck on, he found his chair unexpectedly moving backwards away from his desk. "Mother!"
"You cannot study like this, Ignis," she insisted as she grabbed both of his hands and pulled him out of his seat. "You are fatigued and surely hungry. You need to refuel yourself. You have to nourish your body as much as you nourish your mind. And don't roll your eyes at me, young man."
Had he rolled his eyes? He wasn't sure. If he tried to deny it he would have been no better than when Noctis pulled the same stunt whenever Ignis tried to prevent him from sneaking out of The Citadel. With a defeated sigh, he gave a reluctant nod of agreement.
"Wonderful. Follow me."
Ignis eyed his mother, wondering why she was acting so giddy. She led Ignis into the kitchen and motioned for him to sit on the barstool at the island. The boy quirked an eyebrow though when he saw his mother pull out a white apron and proceeded to tie it around her.
"Where's Mr. Potts," he inquired curiously.
"I gave him the evening off," was the simple response.
Ignis furrowed his brows, hesitant to voice what was on his mind. He flinched, prepared for the backlash if he came off as rude.
"How are we supposed to eat if Mr. Potts is not cooking tonight?"
A sheepish blush crept up after Mrs. Scientia shot him a mocked hurt glance.
"I'll have you know that I am an excellent chef. It's the reason your father married me. After all, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach." She then leaned closer to Ignis as if to tell him a secret. "For the record that works on girls too."
Ignis's blush deepened when his mother winked at the suggestion. However she had already turned her back to him as she rummaged through the fridge and pantry, gathering up her ingredients. Once she returned, she placed a clove of garlic on the cutting board, placed the flat edge of the blade on top, and smacked her palm against it, loosening the white skin. Having freed the garlic, she placed it into a ceramic bowl and repeated the process for several more cloves.
"You know I used to help my mother in the kitchen growing up…"
Ignis rested his head against a propped up hand and impatiently bounced one leg as he watched the clock ticking time away. If she was cooking from scratch, it would be some time before he could finish his homework. It was bound to be a long night for him.
"…I found the aroma of food to be comforting for the soul. After a long day at school, nothing helped like a warm cookie, fresh from the oven. Mama made sure to have a batch waiting for me. To clear my mind I would help make dinner, and the scent of various herb and spices helped me to forget about noisy cafeterias or annoying classmates. Then devouring the finished product just helped to re-energize me. It became my thing. My escape from the stress of school and to just focus on myself. I would have gone mad a long time ago if it weren't for the kitchen."
Ignis continued to stare at the wall only to have a delicate hand grab him from under his chin and guided his face to stare into his mother's green eyes.
"You, my boy, need your own escape." After placing the last garlic into the bowl, she placed a thick, stick like tool inside it and pushed the garlic toward him. "Pound it," she order.
Releasing a heavy sigh, he picked up the pestle and lightly pounded at the garlic. Every so often the pestle seemed to slide off the garlic once hitting the surface of the bulb.
"Oh, come on," she teased him. "Is that all you got? Where are your muscles? Imagine that garlic is that stubborn math problem."
Ignis delivered more force, finally cracking a clove. Each pound fractured more pieces but Mrs. Scientia shook her head disapprovingly.
"Harder, Ignis! I need the garlic pulverized into mush. Put all your strength into it. Imagine all of those times Noctis got you into trouble…like the last time you boys snuck out and got stuck outside during that thunderstorm."
Pow! Ignis banged the pestle against the garlic in rapid successions until all that remained was a slightly liquid mess of white pulp that smelled like garlic. He rubbed at his sore hand but stared approvingly at his work.
"How do you feel?"
Pursing his lips, Ignis pondered the question. A surge of energy did run through his veins. The elevated pace of his heart started to slow to a steady beat. Inhaling deeply, his nostrils were invaded by the aroma of garlic, which in turn reminded him of fresh garlic bread.
"Better," he answered, a small smiling tugging at his lips.
"Good." Mrs. Scientia smiled back and handed him the cutting board and cucumber. "I need those sliced. Not too thick though not paper thin either."
He nodded his acknowledgement and set to work. That night he dined on pasta with a fresh tomato, basil sauce and a side of cucumber salad. With renewed vigor Ignis returned to his studies. As he walked back to his room he couldn't help but think Noctis wouldn't be so sluggish all the time if he just ate a proper diet.
