We bid Hilfe goodbye and rode the carriage back to Gildenburg. The journey passed in heavy silence. Lina tried to lighten the mood, talking about the ingredients we’d gathered, but when neither Thaddeus nor I responded, she let the words fade. I felt bad for her. I hoped she understood that it wasn’t her fault. We didn’t hate her. We just needed a quiet time to sit with the weight of what we’d seen.

  When we arrived at the Solaris Estate, I turned to them.

  “I’ll have to visit Master Orindal first,” I said, glancing at both Lina and Thaddeus.

  Elias and Sebastian met my eyes. I could see the concern written in theirs.

  “I want to talk to him… about what we saw. Maybe he knows how we can help Hilfe’s mother.”

  They nodded in quiet agreement.

  “If he refuses,” Elias said, trying to ease the gloom, “we can always find another mage and offer them the coveted title of House Goldhain’s official mage.”

  I laughed softly. I knew he was joking, but I appreciated the effort. Maybe he felt the same oppressive weight from the visit and wanted to shake it off, even for a moment.

  At the manor’s entrance, we all went our separate ways. I made my way toward the garden where the Mage’s Tavern stood. The cobbled path wound through beds of wild herbs and flowering plants, leading me deeper into the garden. Before long, I spotted the familiar timber house with its blue-tiled roof. The garden surrounding it was full of life. Tomatoes hung in clusters and flowers bloomed in hues of red, violet, and blue. In the corner of the yard sat a white wooden table. I had studied there many times after Master Orindal first took me in as his assistant.

  He wasn’t outside, but the smoke curling up from the chimney told me he was home.

  I took a breath, gathering myself, and knocked twice.

  The door opened, and Master Orindal appeared, brushing soot from his sleeve.

  “Hello, Morgana. Do you need for something?”

  “Master… I need to talk to you.”

  He raised a hand, stopping me before I could go on, then gestured toward the chairs and table.

  We sat, and I told him everything. How we’d found Hilfe alone in the forest, how he’d been searching for a cure for his mother. I spared no detail. Orindal listened patiently, never interrupting. His expression didn’t change, not once, and that made me nervous.

  When I finished, I handed him the notes I’d written. They included all my initial observations of the mother’s condition.

  He stroked his chin thoughtfully.

  “As much as I want to commend what you’ve done… you know you’re not licensed for this,” he said, closing his eyes and scratching his head with a sigh. “But this is good work. Really good. This kind of documentation helps more than you think.”

  He smiled. “Honestly, the only thing you lack is your official license. With it, you’d be as capable as any average Brewmaster.”

  “Thank you, Orindal,” I said. “But I don’t want to be just average.”

  He chuckled and nodded. “I know. And you won’t be. But to reach higher, you need to be versatile. Brewing potions isn’t just about knowledge. It’s about power, too. You need the ability to gather your own ingredients, especially the rare and dangerous ones.”

  He held my gaze. I stayed silent, waiting for him to go on.

  “One of these days,” he said, “I’ll teach you a few basic offensive and defensive spells. Something to protect yourself with. What happened today could’ve ended differently. Your knights are right to worry.”

  He asked about my plans for tomorrow. I told him I intended to visit Hilfe again at first light.

  “The potion I added to the Essence of the Cask will finish fermenting by morning,” I said. “It’s the best one I have right now. I want to give it to the child.”

  Orindal nodded, pleased. “I’ll go with you. Seeing her myself might help. As I’ve told you before, Basic Healing Potions aren’t cures. They ease pain, yes, but they don’t solve the cause. True healing requires deeper understanding.”

  I thanked him for his wisdom.

  He waved a hand, summoning the brewing tools I’d used yesterday. Near a tree, a shaded chair appeared for him.

  “I’ll watch you from there,” he said, settling into the seat.

  I took my place at the white table and began preparing a new batch of Basic Healing Potion. I opened the Herbalist Primer, flipping to the section on the fifty base potions. This time, I wanted to try a different method.

  I set the cauldron on the tripod and lit the burner. Then I pulled an Enchanted Scroll from the stack nearby and held it over the cauldron. As it burned, a red magic circle flared to life beneath the iron pot.

  Three cups of Springwater went in. I reached into my Everpouch, laying out the ingredients I’d gathered. I chopped the Aetherleaf into thin strips and tore its soft violet petals. The bitter, grassy scent of the plant drifted into the air.

  “Master—” I stopped myself.

  Orindal raised an eyebrow.

  I cleared my throat. “Orindal, do you have any tea bags?”

  “How many?”

  “Ten, at least.”

  He nodded and stepped back into his house. I moved to the corner and set up a new tripod, placing a small pot above it. As I waited, I began washing the Elvenroots, letting the rhythm of the task calm my nerves.

  Orindal returned and handed me the tea bags. I filled them with the chopped Aetherleaf and Mender’s Bloom, then tossed the bags into the pot of boiling water. Once the Elvenroots were clean, I placed them in a separate pot to soften and turned my attention back to stirring the main cauldron.

  Some time has passed. I used a fork to test the roots’ texture.

  “It’s ready,” I murmured.

  I turned off the heat under both pots. I didn’t want to risk evaporating too much water and compromising the mixture. When the Elvenroots had cooled, I peeled off their thin outer layer with a knife. Beneath it, a pale, fibrous white revealed itself. It was soft to the touch, almost waxy. From the table, I grabbed the mortar and pestle and began grinding the roots into a coarse, brownish-white paste.

  Once the paste was ready, I reignited the burner beneath the cauldron for main mixture. Then, I retrieved the pouch filled with small shards of Crystallized Honey we had gathered earlier.

  A heavy sigh escaped me. The effort of moving between pots and tools was beginning to wear on me.

  I stood in front of the boiling pot, watching as steam curled upward. Following the book’s instructions, I added half a cup of water and waited for the rolling boil to return.

  Once the water bubbled again, I weighed the Crystallized Honey on the brass scale. I needed 100 grams to prepare a batch that would yield three to four bottles. Dividing it into four parts, I added the first handful of Crystallized Honey to the boiling mixture and stirred it gently with a wooden ladle. I waited for it to dissolve completely before adding the next portion, repeating the process until all the honey had melted into the potion.

  “How’s it going?” Master Orindal asked.

  “I just need to add the Elvenroots. In about ten minutes, the batch will be done.”

  He nodded and returned to his chair. I faced the cauldron again and wiped the sweat from my brow.

  I was finally close to finishing this new batch of Basic Healing Potion. But this time, it was different. I wasn’t just experimenting with ingredients, but also trying a new brewing method. There were at least eight known ways to prepare a potion, each with their own merits. Today, I was using the Paste and Boiling Method, the most beginner-friendly of them all.

  I scooped the mashed Elvenroots and added them to the mixture. Then, I let it simmer for five more minutes before extinguishing the flame.

  Beside me, Master Orindal stood.

  “I’ll prepare some food while we wait for it to cool.”

  “Thank you,” I said. “I’ll enjoy your hospitality.”

  I eased into a chair, stretching out my back and legs. I let my eyes close and allowed the breeze to brush against my face. The nervousness I’d carried earlier had faded. All that remained was the thought of perfecting this potion.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The wind whistled through the trees, stirring loose memories. My thoughts returned to what had happened earlier... pity and sadness pooled in my chest. Poverty had once been just a word to me. As an empress, I’d learned that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t save everyone. Every decision came with a cost, and that cost was often someone’s well-being.

  It had been difficult in the beginning, knowing that my orders could ruin lives. But the longer I spent in the palace, the more numb I became. Eventually, people became numbers. Sacrifices. Pawns on a board I was forced to play just to keep the empire stable.

  I sighed. A warm, creamy scent drifted toward me.

  “You seemed deep in thought,” Orindal said, placing a bowl in front of me. It looked like mushroom soup, thick and pale.

  “I was just thinking about Hilfe and his mother.”

  He nodded. “You have a good heart. Helping others comes naturally to you. Your grandfather would be proud of the woman his granddaughter has become.”

  I offered a small smile, but inwardly I doubted that. I knew what I had become.

  Something twisted in my chest. I had turned into someone I both loved and despised. But that was the past. Now, I had a new life ahead of me and the power to shape who I wanted to be. I choose to bring comfort. To ease pain. To improve lives, even in small ways.

  Steam curled up from the soup. I brought the bowl close and took a spoonful. It was warm, soothing but not hot enough to burn. For reasons I couldn’t quite explain, it comforted me deeply.

  When I glanced at Master Orindal, he was humming a melody I didn’t recognize. It sounded foreign, like something from a distant land.

  After we finished our quiet meal, I returned to the table. The potion had cooled. I poured the mixture into the funnel set atop a small bottle.

  I filled four bottles in total. The liquid inside was slightly thinner than my previous attempts, smoother in consistency.

  “Let’s test it,” Master Orindal said.

  He uncapped one of the bottles and poured a drop onto the brass plate connected to the Alchemic Orb. Light swirled within the glassy sphere, shifting from white to green. My heart skipped a beat. A green glow meant the potion’s effectiveness was between 86 to 90 percent.

  Slowly, numbers formed at the center of the orb.

  ‘90%’

  I sighed in relief and dropped into the nearest chair, exhaustion finally settling in now that I’d succeeded.

  “Congratulations,” Master Orindal said with a smile. “This potion is by far the best you’ve made so far. Brewing it to ninety percent effectiveness is no easy feat. Don’t be hard on yourself. Give yourself and your efforts the credit they deserve.”

  I nodded. “Thank you. I’ll remember that.”

  “I think we can end today’s class earlier than usual. Keep this potion with you. Tomorrow, let’s visit the patient you recommended.”

  “But what about my father? I just went outside,” I asked, worried.

  “Leave your father to me. I’ll come up with an explanation he can’t refuse.” He grinned.

  After carefully labeling the cork, I stored the potion in my Everpouch. I cleaned the tools I’d used and returned to the manor, keeping to my room until the butler came to fetch me for dinner with my maternal relatives.

  The next morning, I woke to a soft glow. Runes shimmered before my eyes, pulsing gently with light.

  I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sat up, reaching for the magic container. Holding the potion up to the light, I studied it carefully. Was there any visible difference? To my eyes, it looked no different from the other potions nestled inside my Everpouch. Still, I added a new label to remind myself that this one had undergone fermentation.

  Its base effectiveness had been 84%, but thanks to the Medium Brew fermentation, it had gained a 15% boost. That brought it up to an impressive 99%.

  I couldn’t help but wonder how effective it would be in practice.

  The sun had yet to rise, hidden behind the hills surrounding Gildenburg. I sat cross-legged by the bed and prepared for my breathing exercises to improve Mana Affinity. As I had before, I began by coaxing the mana within me to flow outward, shaping it into a swirling, pulsing sphere of light. Then, slowly, I pulled it back into my body, dragging along some of the ambient mana in the air.

  A sharp pain lanced through me, and I hissed. But I didn’t stop.

  Master Orindal had said he would begin teaching me offensive and defensive spells soon. Things that could help me protect myself. This was preparation. I had to be ready.

  I repeated the same exercise. By the eighth set, beads of sweat clung to my forehead.

  Just one more set, and I’ll be done for today.

  When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the shimmer of Golden Runes dancing before my vision.

  I collapsed back onto the bed, breathing hard.

  “Are there any exercises in that book that don’t make me feel like I’m being torn apart?” I muttered.

  I let myself rest for the remainder of the morning until Lina arrived to help me prepare for the day. I dressed in a simple green gown of plain design and picked out a wide-brimmed hat with a red ribbon to go with it.

  “Will you return to the village today, as you promised, Hilfe?” Lina asked.

  I nodded. “Master Orindal will join us.”

  She smiled. “Lord Thaddeus is outside, waiting for you.”

  We walked toward the garden together. As we strolled beneath the shade of old trees, Thaddeus turned to me.

  “Did you forget about the tea you bought at the market?”

  I gasped. “Forgive me, I completely forgot!”

  Thaddeus clicked his tongue but said nothing else.

  “I promise I’ll visit Mother after we return from the village.”

  He gave a curt nod.

  Before we could reach the Mage Tavern, we saw Master Orindal approaching. He wore a wine-colored waistcoat over a crisp white shirt, with no ornaments adorning him. His long red hair was tied neatly into a ponytail.

  “Good morning, Orindal.”

  “Greetings,” he replied with a polite nod.

  “I already spoke to your father about today’s trip,” he added. “I told him it was for your practical training.”

  “I appreciate it,” I said, relieved.

  The four of us boarded the carriage where Sebastian and Elias were already waiting. The ride to the city passed in silence. A stark contrast to the bustling streets outside. Shops lined the roads. Soldiers and townsfolk passed by, carrying out their daily business. The air smelled of baked bread, old wood, and something damp and sweet.

  Eventually, we reached the Northern Gate. Beyond it, the road grew quiet.

  “We’re about to reach the village, my lady,” Elias called out.

  The carriage slowed, then came to a halt. Master Orindal exhaled, gazing toward the shadow of the village in the distance.

  “Is that where the village is?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “It’s a small farming village of about ten houses or so.”

  He nodded thoughtfully. “It must be relatively new, then.”

  The carriage halted, and from there, we had to walk the rest of the way to the village.

  We followed a narrow path that wound through gently swaying green fields stretching as far as our eyes could see. The air smelled of soil and morning dew. Just like yesterday, the villagers stopped whatever they were doing the moment we came into view.

  Among the crowd was Hilfe. The boy’s face lit up, and he ran to us as fast as his legs could carry him.

  “Good sirs and ladies, I didn’t—” He shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “Thank Lumen you’re here.”

  Something in his voice made my stomach twist.

  “My mother’s feeling a lot better than yesterday.” He smiled brightly. “She’s inside, making breakfast.”

  “Please take us to her,” I said gently.

  We followed Hilfe through the familiar path to their home. The boy chattered with Lina along the way, clearly most at ease with her. When we stepped inside, we found his mother crouched near the hearth, coaxing a fire to life.

  “Mother! The good sirs and ladies are here again!” Hilfe exclaimed.

  She turned, surprise widening her eyes.

  We took the seats she offered, and as she worked, I asked her about her health. Her answers were calm, even cheerful, and Master Orindal chimed in from time to time with a question of his own. She answered everything without hesitation.

  After a while, Master Orindal touched my shoulder. “Let’s step outside.”

  We walked into the open, the sun warming our faces.

  “Do you remember what I told you about using Basic Healing Potions?” he asked. “You were right to give her one... but it looks like her condition was caused by something else entirely.”

  I turned to him, puzzled. “What do you mean? She was as pale as a corpse yesterday.”

  “She had a fever, yes. But that paleness and weakness... it wasn’t just from illness. Look over there.” He pointed at a nearby well, where people stood in line waiting for their turn to draw water. “This village doesn’t have access to proper water. Their living conditions are below even the bare minimum. A lack of nutrition leads to a weakened immune system. That’s what you saw. That’s why she collapsed.”

  He folded his arms, surveying the village. “What are you thinking?”

  I hesitated. “I hope this doesn’t sound naive... but can’t we do something for them?”

  “You don’t need to worry about sounding naive in front of me,” he said with a soft chuckle. “Naivety shows a desire to learn. Questioning the world around you is the first step to understanding it. But to answer your question, this isn’t something a few potions or coins can fix. They need a long-term solution.”

  Without another word, Master Orindal walked toward the water well. The villagers stepped aside, murmuring as he approached. Raising his hand, he conjured a blue magic circle above the well’s mouth. Pulses of blue light shot into the depths, each burst making his overcoat flare behind him.

  When it was done, he turned to the silent crowd.

  “From this day forward, this well will give you clean water.”

  A wave of awe passed through the villagers.

  The oldest among them stepped forward. He appeared stoop, weathered, and wise-looking.

  “Good mage,” he said reverently, “how can we repay this kindness?”

  Orindal handed him a small pouch. “Plant this seed and tend to the plant that grows. Protect it, and I’ll consider my favor repaid.”

  The old man bowed low. “I promise I’ll honor your wishes.”

  We returned to Hilfe’s home. I handed them four more potions, including one fermented with Matured Brew. Hilfe and his mother thanked us again and again. Just before we left, the mother approached me, gently clasping my hands.

  She pressed something small into my palm, a gold button. My eyes widened.

  “I can’t accept this,” I said softly.

  She shook her head. “It’s all I can give. It’s not nearly enough. How could I repay someone who saved my life? This button belonged to someone very dear to me. I had planned to give it to Hilfe after I passed, but what use would a child have for a button? What he truly wants are stories about the man who owned it. His father.”

  Her voice trembled slightly as she looked down at the button. She smiled, as if glimpsing a memory only she could see.

  I hadn’t meant it when I told her yesterday to repay me with her most valuable thing. Seeing her now, I couldn’t bring myself to take it. I was about to hand it back. Until Master Orindal stepped in.

  “Thank you,” he said to her. “She’s just too humble to accept it, but she’s very grateful.” He closed his hand over mine, gently curling my fingers around the button.

  Later, as we rode back to the city, I asked him the question that had been weighing on me.

  “Why did you force me to accept her payment?”

  He met my gaze. “You shouldn’t reject someone’s effort to repay you. That woman must have searched her whole heart to find that button. To refuse it would have only made her feel more powerless. People like her already live hard enough lives. If they’re left feeling indebted, it only deepens their burden. My master once told me to accept payment, no matter how small. It gives people dignity.”

  I looked out the window, the fields passing in a blur. A quiet warmth bloomed in my chest.

  “I’ll remember that,” I said with a smile.