We rode back to the manor in silence. Orindal’s words about accepting a reward stirred something deep in me. Despite our successful visit, it felt like I’d overlooked something... like there was more I could have done for them.

  The carriage halted, pulling me out of my reverie. I bid my master goodbye and thanked everyone who had accompanied me on the trip.

  As Lina and I walked back to my room, I gave her a message.

  “Lina, please tell Mother that I’m going to pay her a visit in her room.”

  “As you wish, my lady,” she said, bowing before she departed.

  Sunlight streamed in through the windows as I wandered the hallway. It didn’t make me dizzy, but it did make me feel unsteady like I was caught between reality and impossibility. My footsteps slowed.

  I stopped before a painting of depicting a king’s coronation. He wore a lavish fur-lined cape, a crown gleaming atop his head. He held on his hand a golden scepter encrusted with diamonds. He stood on a veranda, gazing down at the gathered crowd. The people wore a mix of expressions: awe, reverence, fear, and hope.

  The painting tugged at something in me. It spoke a language not of words but of vibrant brushstrokes, of emotion trapped in oil and canvas. It reminded me of Hilfe and their village. Had I truly done everything I could? Could I still do more?

  I returned to my room, thoughts lingering. Lina arrived shortly after with a message.

  “The Duchess seemed thrilled about your visit,” she said.

  I raised an eyebrow. Lina must’ve mistaken my mother’s surprise for delight. The Duchess was not the type to be “thrilled” over something as mundane as a sudden visit.

  I changed into a champagne-colored dress with Lina's help. Just before we left, I took the box of tea I had brought with Thaddeus. I held it close as we walked to her office. I hoped this little gesture could soften the sharp edges of our relationship.

  We found the Duchess seated at a small round table, painted in white. It was only large enough to fit four or five people, a table meant for intimate and private conversations.

  I nodded slightly. Perhaps Lina wasn’t entirely wrong. Maybe my mother was, in her own way, pleased.

  I smiled as I approached. “I brought you something,” I said, settling into the chair across from her. “It’s a box of tea. Thaddeus told me you enjoy this specific kind.”

  I slid the box of Mervaille Tea across the table. Her fingers brushed the lid, and her lips curved into a smile. When she opened it, the room filled with an earthy, floral aroma. Her smile deepened.

  “Thank you,” she said. “This tea is my favorite.”

  I turned to Lina and asked her to bring us some biscuits and cookies to go along with the tea.

  Once Lina left, I took a breath. This was why I came here, not just to share tea, but to try, once again, to close the distance between us. Just like Thaddeus had said.

  “Mother,” I began softly, “I hope you can forgive me if my decisions have disappointed you. But everything I’ve done lately, this life I’m choosing, I’m finally enjoying it. For the first time… it feels like I’m really living.”

  I paused. The words felt fragile in my mouth. “Back in the university, I had this long, terrible dream.”

  She tilted her head. “A dream?”

  I nodded. “In it, you, Father, and Everard died. Thaddeus hated me for it. I was left behind, alone and empty, like a hollow shell.”

  She said nothing, but I could feel her listening.

  “When I woke up, I was Awakened… I became a Runebearer. That dream, it changed me. From that moment, I made a promise to live differently. I didn’t want to become that version of myself in my drea,.”

  Her red eyes met mine, unwavering. She reached across the table and took my hands in hers.

  “Someday, I’ll understand,” she said. “For now, I wish you nothing but happiness. Don’t let that dream haunt you. It’s over now. This is the present... your father and I are still here, and your brothers. And you already know that Thaddeus cherishes you.”

  I smiled, warmth flooding through me like the rising sun.

  As I squeezed her hand in return, I noticed something. Her skin felt rough and coarse, even. I turned her hand palm-up.

  “Mother,” I said, frowning. “What happened to your hands?”

  The skin was red and peeling. Inflamed.

  She sighed. “The doctor said it’s a type of skin condition. Sometimes it itches terribly depending on the weather's cobdition.”

  “Have you used any ointments?”

  “I’ve tried many. None worked. Eventually, the doctor recommended this tea to cleanse the blood of whatever’s causing it.”

  I studied her hands, filing the image away. “Have you consulted Master Orindal?”

  She chuckled lightly. “I prefer a doctor for matters like this. Besides, Master Orindal keeps his distance from most of us. You're the exception, I suppose.”

  Lina returned with a silver platter of cookies, followed by another maid carrying a kettle and two porcelain cups. We shared tea and light conversation. We even spoke about the upcoming party.

  “Do you need an instructor to review you about dancing?” she asked.

  I raised my brows and shook my head. “No, I can dance well.”

  After we finished the tea, I bid her goodbye and told her I was heading to my classes with Master Orindal.

  “He might have something to teach me today.”

  “Remember to join us for dinner later. Our relatives might be there,” she reminded.

  Outside, Thaddeus was already waiting for me. He sat on a bench beneath the tall pine tree that stood guard at the garden’s entrance.

  He sprang to his feet the moment he saw me, snapping his book shut with a loud thump before dusting off his coat.

  “Did you give her the tea?”

  I nodded. “We also talked.”

  We took the cobbled path to the Mage Tavern. Flowers in full bloom draped over the garden arches above us, their colors painting the air in vibrant strokes. Bees drifted lazily between petals, a soft hum trailing behind them.

  Master Orindal was in his front yard, basking in the sun while tending to his garden.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “Greetings, Master Orindal.”

  For a moment, he looked at me as though confused, as if he’d forgotten I was his apprentice. Then he stood.

  “I have something in mind for you... but for now, continue brewing a Basic Healing Potion. It’ll help strengthen your foundation.”

  With a wave of his hand, alchemical tools returned to the long table. I began preparing the next batch, but my thoughts refused to stay still.

  Mother’s hands flashed in my mind. I glanced at Thaddeus, who had pulled his chair beneath a shady tree. Did he know about her condition? Should I ask Master Orindal? He might have knowledge that could help.

  By late afternoon, I’d brewed three more batches using the last of my materials. A soft pulse echoed through me as a notification from the Golden Runes appeared. Basic Potion Crafting had reached its fifth and final mark. I gained 1 Attribute Points for both my Intelligence and Dexterity because of that. Three new options for advancement floated before me, waiting for my decision. But I wasn’t ready to choose yet. Better to wait until the situation called for it.

  My Brewmaster Class also reached Level 8. And Steadfast Body climbed to Rank II which gave 1 additional Attribute Points to Strength.

  Master Orindal approached, eyeing the potions.

  “Is it done?”

  I nodded. “Yes, Orindal… may I ask a question?”

  He waited patiently.

  “My mother—” I hesitated, clearing my throat. “The Duchess… her hands are red and the skin on her palms is peeling. I wonder if I could help her by making an ointment?”

  Orindal took a slow breath. “Yes, you can help. But you’re not yet at the level to make an ointment complex enough to treat skin diseases and infections.”

  I stood silently, trying to accept the limits of what I could do.

  “But when will I ever be prepared?”

  He shook his head, red hair falling into his eyes. “That’s the wrong question. Ask instead, ‘How can I prepare myself?’ Magic is like a staircase, Morgana. You can’t reach the next step without standing firmly on the one before it.”

  He nudged the potions toward me. “You’ve done well with these. Let your mother drink this or rub it on her hands. It won’t cure her, but it will ease the pain and itching until you’re ready to create something stronger.”

  I stared at the vial before carefully placing it in my Everpouch.

  Orindal tapped the table lightly, drawing my attention.

  I tilted my head.

  “With how fast you’re progressing,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck, “maybe we can move on to your next potion soon.”

  My gaze dropped to the finished potions, then back to him. I smiled. “I promise to work diligently.”

  Class ended an hour earlier than usual. As we walked home, Thaddeus jogged up beside me and tapped my shoulder.

  “You’re amazing,” he said, smiling at me with those unmistakable red eyes.

  I didn’t say anything, but I returned his smile. Somehow, the silence between us felt perfect. Words might’ve only disturbed the warmth that had settled in.

  Above us, stars began appearing in the eastern sky, small, distant, yet burning all the same. And like them, I vowed to keep my fire alive, no matter how faint the light might seem.

  Later, in my room, Lina helped me change into a simple champagne-colored dress. Relief swept over me when I stepped into the dining hall and found it mostly empty. Only Mother, Father, and my two brothers were present.

  I dreaded the day our relatives would finally join us for dinner. Dinner was where family talk freely.

  After we finished our food, I went to my mother and handed her the best potion I’d made. Earlier that day, I’d retrieved one from the Matured Brew. This potion was fifteen percent more effective than the standard one.

  “What are these?”

  “These are potions I made,” I said, gently closing her hands around the bottles. “Use this one especially. It’s the best of the three.”

  She pulled me into a hug, wrapping her arms around me as if I were a child again. Her voice was soft and warm. “Thank you for thinking of me.”

  She told me not to rush things. That I didn’t need to carry the weight of her condition alone.

  “Good things take time,” she said, smiling gently as she tucked a hair behind my ears.

  The next morning, I returned to the Mage Tavern only to find it empty. A note was pinned to the table with a granite rock.

  'I went out. I left some ingredients there for you to be busy. I’ll come back after lunch.'

  I shrugged and turned toward the bundle Master Orindal had left.

  “From this, I think I can make about four batches of Basic Healing Potions.”

  Before I started, I remembered the Fermentation Containers were still empty. I’d meant to load them last night, but in my elation, I’d completely forgotten.

  I opened the Essence of the Cask and summoned the two magical containers. They floated before me, golden and translucent, shaped like ornate boxes designed to store something precious.

  I placed two potions inside and selected Aged Brew this time. The promise of a secondary effect intrigued me. I wondered how it functioned. Was the secondary effect tied to the potion’s category?

  From what I’d learned, potions fell into three main types: Offense, Defense, and Utility. Utility potions split further into Restoration and Enhancement subtypes.

  A Basic Healing Potion that also restored mana? That was brilliant. But one that granted invisibility? Useful, yes, but unsettling.

  Still, I chose Aged Brew. I’d know the results in three days.

  I had finished my work in the morning and returned to the Mage Tavern after lunch.

  Master Orindal was there when we arrived, waiting beneath the tree. My brother sat beside him, eyes buried in a book.

  “Everard doesn’t bother me here,” Thaddeus said, feigning annoyance.

  “Greetings,” I said, approaching.

  Master Orindal smiled. “Finished everything?”

  “Yes, I completed everything before lunch.”

  He nodded, satisfied. “Good. Tomorrow I’ll teach you a new potion. If you do well, I might introduce you to more complex recipes.”

  I beamed. I didn’t know how wide my smile stretched, but the surprised look on his face told me it must’ve been something.

  “Thank you,” I said.

  His expression softened. “It’s what I do for my apprentice. For now, I have something for you.”

  He rummaged through his Everpouch and pulled out a blue leather-bound book. I read the spine aloud.

  “Herbarium of the Wandering Soul.”

  “It’s the first volume in a set of five. There’s also a rumor about a hidden sixth volume, believed to be lost. Supposedly, it covers Ronan’s journey into the Northern Wilderness.”

  “The Northern Wilderness?” I echoed.

  He nodded. “Yes. According to a friend, Ronan was last seen preparing to venture there.”

  I nodded slowly, awe creeping into my chest. The Northern Wilderness was an untamed land beyond the White Sea. After crossing that expanse, travelers reached a vast, unexplored realm. Some claimed it was the edge of the world. Others spoke of an ancient ice wall, guarding the Sealed World, a prison where demons are held.

  “Then… it’s likely the sixth volume was lost with him.”

  Master Orindal sighed. “Stop saying it like that. Anyway, the mystery only adds to the book’s legend. You have no idea how many mages are obsessed with finding it.”

  “Are you one of them?”

  His cheeks colored faintly. “When I was younger, yes. But that’s not why I gave it to you. This book is closely tied to potion-making and alchemy. I think you’ll learn a lot from it.”

  I thanked him earnestly and took the book. I sat beside Thaddeus. Master Orindal snapped his fingers and summoned a table beneath the tree before heading back inside.

  Soon, smoke rose from his chimney. He was back to his work.

  I opened the book. Its tone was personal, journal-like. It felt like reading a letter from an old friend, filled with warmth and quiet familiarity. Ronan had succeeded in drawing the reader close.

  The book was divided into five chapters, each chronicling a different chapter of his life. He wrote about his daily routines, his discoveries of new herbs, or new uses for old ones. Sketches accompanied his entries, capturing flora, people, and landscapes. Despite the alchemical focus, the Herbarium of the Wandering Soul was about more than just potions. It was the story of a man searching for meaning in the world.

  I tore my gaze from the pages and looked around the garden encircling the Mage Tavern.

  “I want to experience this too,” I whispered.

  “Is it that good?” Thaddeus asked, glancing over.

  I nodded. “I think you’ll like it. Do you enjoy memoirs?”

  He shrugged. “I like them okay.”

  “I’ll let you read it once I’m done.”

  Not long after, the butler arrived. It was time for dinner with our parents, though I longed to stay and keep reading. I consoled myself with the promise of returning to it afterward.

  After dinner, I picked up where I left off. Ronan had arrived at a village plagued by a rare illness. Curiously, nearby towns were immune. He conducted a thorough investigation, comparing lifestyles and diets between the villagers and their neighbors.

  I made it halfway through before stopping.

  The emotion woven into his words overwhelmed me. I turned to the window beside my desk. Outside, guards patrolled the courtyard with Mana Lamps, blue lights glowing softly in the night.

  “How amazing it would be to live a life like his.”

  Countless mages had dedicated themselves to discovery. But how many paths remained unexplored? I remembered something from one of my classes that there’s no limit to discovery. It only ends when we stop seeking.

  Maybe I could find something new. Maybe one day, someone would compare me to Ronan.

  I laughed at the thought.

  That night, I dreamed of distant lands beyond the city walls, across the empire and seas, where discoveries waited in silence.

  Sunlight poured into my room the next morning. It warmed my blanket and brushed my cheek. When I looked at the clock, I saw I’d woken earlier than usual.

  I dressed in a simple white gown and draped a navy fur cloak over my shoulders. A morning stroll might clear my thoughts to wakefulness.

  As I neared the mansion’s front gates, a commotion drew my attention.

  Curious, I moved closer only to see Hilfe being dragged away by the guards.

  It was happening again, just like the day we met.

  The boy was crying. Then his tear-filled eyes found mine.

  His sobs grew louder.

  “My lady! Lady Morgana, please help me again!” he cried, struggling against the guards. He tried to say more, but a knight clamped a hand over his mouth, muffling the rest of what he was about to say.