As the last bottle clicked softly into her pouch, Lira leaned back and let out a quiet sigh. Her hands smelled of lavender, mint, and something ancient, the faint trace of the memory herb still lingering on her fingertips.
The grove was calm. The spirit tree stood tall and still, its earlier pulse of light now just a gentle shimmer beneath the bark. Renkai stirred where he sat, his eyes opening slowly. He looked at her without a word, only nodding, as if he'd felt the moment she was ready.
She rose and walked over to him. He stood with ease and gave her a half-smile. "Time to return," he said softly.
Together, they walked back toward the edge of the grove, through the portal. As they reached the mist, Lira paused and glanced over her shoulder. The ruins in the distance, were already beginning to fade behind her. Like a dream slipping through daylight.
Renkai stepped in front of her and raised his hand slightly. The fog swirled, parting gently with each motion of his fingers. She followed close behind, her steps light but sure.
"Thank you," she murmured.
He didn't look back but his voice was steady. "The grove knows you now. It will always welcome you." Even if you will come here alone, you will see a path to it and back. Are you happy with my gift?" He smiled. Lira nodded: "Thank you,Renkai."
When they emerged back into the forest beyond, the light had shifted, afternoon now, warm and golden slightly shining through the fog. The path was quiet.
Renkai gave her a slight bow. "Go on," he said. "I'll return to the winds."
Lira smiled softly, then turned and made her way toward the village.
By the time she arrived at the Potion Master's room, the sun was dipping low, painting the buildings in amber and rose.
Master Therin turned around from his new potion on the table.
"Ah," he said, brushing off his apron. "You return."
Lira stepped forward and carefully pulled out her crafted potions, placing each one on the table before him. One by one: a vial for calming sleep, another for stomach pain, a third for minor healing, and a small essence of clarity.
He inspected them with care, lifting one to the light. "Clean work. Better than last time." He set them down and opened a small wooden drawer. From it, he took a leather pouch and placed it before her. A soft clink, the sound of coin.
"Not much," he added, "but fair for your level."
Lira nodded, grateful, and picked up the pouch. Her own earning, from her own craft.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
The Master Therin studied her a moment longer. "You're growing," he said. "I can see it in your hands. Keep going."
She smiled and tucked the pouch away.
Master Therin's brow furrowed, his finger tapping thoughtfully against his chin as he studied the bottles once more.
"Hmm… Lira," he said slowly, his gaze shifting back to her. "Perhaps you could help me with something. A bit of… practical experimentation."
Lira tilted her head slightly. "With what?"
He stepped aside, gesturing to a separate worktable near the back of the room. Unlike the neatly organized shelf of labeled herbs and essences, this table was cluttered. Scraps of notes, dried leaves, a cracked crystal vial, and a murky potion bottle that shimmered faintly with swirling silver threads inside.
"I've been trying to create a new kind of summoning potion," he said. "Something that could call forth a protector, a being bound to your essence, that could appear in moments of need. Nothing dangerous. A guardian, of sorts. Not just for battle, but to shield, guide, or even carry messages if need be."
He rubbed the back of his neck, visibly frustrated. "Our realm is vast. And it's deeply connected to the other towns, where academies thrive, where graduates wander. Many travel alone now, especially after the last rupture. I thought this could help. But… I failed."
Lira stepped closer, peering into the potion vial. "What went wrong?"
"That's the thing," he sighed. "I'm not sure. It brews fine. No explosions, no harmful effects. But when tested, nothing comes. No shimmer, no form, no summon. Just stillness."
He looked at her thoughtfully. "You have a gift for energy-based herbs. Gentle, yes, but precise. And the grove recognized you. I wonder if your touch might stir what mine cannot."
Lira hesitated for a moment, then looked back at the potion. The swirling silver moved in slow, spiraling waves, like something half-awake.
"I can try," she said quietly. "But I'm still learning."
He smiled, the lines at the corners of his eyes softening. "We all are. Even me."
They stood side by side at the cluttered table, Therin's notes laid out before them - pages of scribbled measurements, diagrams of magical resonance, and ingredient combinations. Lira carefully followed his instructions, her hands steady as she crushed dried amber moss and added a thread of lunar bark into the simmering mix.
Therin added the final drop of bluethorn sap, and together they leaned in, watching.
The potion shimmered… then stilled.
Nothing.
"No reaction," Therin muttered, scratching something on the page. "Again."
They tried once more. A different order. A new timing. Swapped one herb for a close cousin. They chanted softly, adjusted heat, whispered intentions into the steam.
Still nothing.
Hours passed, the light outside dimming into twilight, and the scent of herbs clung to the room like fog. Empty vials and stained cloths surrounded them now, quiet witnesses to their effort.
Lira blinked heavily, her shoulders aching. She glanced at Therin. He looked just as tired,though his focus never left the potion before him.
Finally, he let out a long breath and set his stirring rod down with a soft clink. "No spark. No shimmer. Nothing again." He rubbed his temples. "We're missing something. Something small… or something sacred. But I can't see it tonight."
Lira nodded, her voice soft. "Maybe it will come to us after rest."
He gave her a tired smile. "You're right. Go get some sleep, Lira. You've done more than enough."
She wiped her hands on a cloth, gathered her pouch, and gave him a small bow. "Goodnight, Master Therin."
"Goodnight," he echoed, already lost in thought as she turned toward the door.
The hallway was quiet as she made her way back to her room at the student quarters. When she closed the door behind her, the silence wrapped around her like a blanket.
She sat on her bed, glancing down at her hands. Faint traces of silver shimmer from the potion clung to her fingertips. It didn't work, not yet, but something about it still pulled at her. A whisper in the back of her mind… like something waiting to be remembered.
But for now, she curled beneath her blanket, the scent of herbs still in her hair, and let her eyes slowly drift shut.
That night, the dreams came quickly.
At first, just mist and light, pale shapes shifting, a whisper of wind through trees that didn't exist in the waking world.
Then, the dream sharpened.
A woman stood in a dark stone chamber, her cloak torn at the shoulder, hair wild around her face. She again looked like Lira, not exactly, but closely enough to stir something deep in Lira's chest. The woman clutched a glowing potion in one hand, its contents swirling with silver and violet light. A shadow loomed behind her, a creature of jagged limbs and burning eyes, crawling closer.
The woman hesitated only a second before throwing the bottle down at her feet.
It shattered with a sharp crack.
Fog burst out in a wild swirl, filling the space. From within it leapt a fox - no, not a normal fox. It moved like liquid light, larger than any ordinary animal, with glowing fur and a presence that felt ancient. Its eyes, bright with intelligence, reminded Lira of someone. Of Renkai.
The fox lunged at the creature, biting down on its shoulder, claws raking through shadow and bone.
The two forms fought, twisting in and out of the mist, the air filled with snarls and cracking stone.
And then the vision faded. The sound disappeared first, then the light, like a candle blown out.
Lira woke with a sharp inhale.
Morning light crept in through the thin curtain above her bed. Her heart was racing, but the dream was clear, clearer than most. She sat up slowly, pressing a hand to her chest.
A summoning… from a potion. Just like the one Master Therin was trying to make.
Could it be possible? Could Renkai know something about it?
The fox in the dream had been like him. Maybe it was him.
She stood and quickly dressed, tying her satchel at her side, still warm from the day before. But before she went searching for answers, one thought tugged at her:
The greenhouse. The seeds.
Her plants came first.
With quiet steps, she left her room and walked toward the Academy's greenhouse garden. The morning air was cool, and dew still clung to the grass as she unlocked the tall, glass-framed door.
Inside, warmth and soft light wrapped around her. Rows of green leaves shimmered with early sunbeams. Lira moved quickly to the far corner, where she'd planted the rare seeds planted last week.
She knelt by the planter boxes.
To her quiet surprise, delicate sprouts had broken through the soil, not only healthy, but faintly glowing at the tips, like they held some kind of quiet magic.
She smiled, brushing her fingers along a sprout's leaf. "You're waking too, hmm?"
The dream still pulsed in her mind.
Soon, she would go to the grove again. She needed to speak to Renkai.