The morning light filtered gently through the curtains as Lira stirred awake. Her mind clung to the fading dream, the woman with kind eyes, the bottles clinking softly, and the green energy that danced like leaves in a sumr breeze. She sat up slowly, blinking at the light, then glanced at her green book resting beside her.
It was open.
The pages had shifted during the night, revealing a faint sketch of a woman’s hand hovering over a plant, the sa image from her dream. Below it, delicate script ford as she watched:
"So mories are not your own, but borrowed from blood and root. To make the Blooming Chill Elixir, begin with water touched by frost, stir counterclockwise, and add one petal at twilight."
Lira swallowed. The potion had a na now. Blooming Chill Elixir. And it seed... familiar. Like sothing once whispered to her through a closed door.
She rose from the bed, slipping the green book into her satchel and glancing toward the window. Today, she would search for frost water. Whatever this potion was for, the dream, and the book, had chosen to show her for a reason.
Lira clutched the book tightly as she stepped through the long stone corridor leading to the Grandmaster’s study. Morning classes echoed faintly in the distance, but her focus stayed fixed on what the dream and the book had revealed. She had questions, and she hoped Grandmaster Elion would have answers.
She found him standing by the window, gazing out over the distant hills with hands folded behind his back. As always, he seed to be waiting, as though he knew she would co.
"You saw sothing," he said without turning.
Lira nodded, then stepped forward. "A dream. A woman who looked like . She used green magic to create sothing with the ice lotus. And the book... it showed a potion, Blooming Chill Elixir. It needs frost-touched water."
Elion finally turned to her, studying her quietly. "The book shows only what you are ready to see. And if it is guiding you to frost water, then we must trust it." He paused, then gave a small nod. "Co. We’ll go find it."
They left the grounds through the eastern gate, where the land sloped gently into a misty valley. Trees swayed quietly, their trunks silver with early dew. Elion led the way in silence, taking an overgrown trail that twisted through thickets and mossy stones.
After a while, he stopped near a narrow stream, its surface shimring faintly in the morning chill.
"This water is born from an underground spring that runs close to a shard of winter crystal buried long ago. It carries the mory of frost even in spring. Few know it’s here," he said, kneeling beside it.
Lira crouched down, the air around the stream cooler than the rest of the woods. She uncorked a small vial and dipped it into the stream. As she sealed it, a soft shimr clung to the glass like tiny snowflakes.
Elion watched her carefully. "This potion you’re making... It’s old. Protective, yes, but also revealing. Be sure you’re ready to know what it might show you."
Lira t his gaze and nodded slowly. "I think I need to know."
They stood together in silence for a mont longer, the woods holding its breath around them.
As they made their way back toward the school, the wind stirred through the trees, and birds called faintly in the distance. Lira walked beside the Grandmaster in thoughtful silence, still holding the cool vial close to her chest.
Elion glanced at her, the edge of a smile in his voice. "You’ve co far in a short ti, Lira. Elental work begins small, infusing tea, learning flow. But you’re stepping into deeper currents now. It’s ti soone helped you navigate them."
She looked up, curious. "You an... soone else will teach ?"
He nodded. "You’ve grown fast with your elent. And that growth must be tempered with skill. There’s soone I trust. Master Therin, he leads the advanced elixirs and botanical alchemy studies. Not many go to him unless they’re serious."
Lira’s steps slowed. "Do you think I’m ready?"
"I think the book believes you are," Eliom said, eyes crinkling with quiet amusent.
"And I trust its judgnt."
By the ti they reached the school, the sun had risen higher, casting a soft glow over the dod greenhouse and stone halls. Elions led her down a shaded path lined with ivy, to a low round building tucked behind the east wing. Vines curled around its arched doorway, and the scent of herbs lingered in the air.
Inside, shelves brimd with glass bottles, dried plants, and softly humming crystals. At the far end, a tall figure in a moss-colored robe stood pouring sothing into a copper basin.
"Therin," Elion called gently.
The man turned, sharp-eyed and calm. His presence filled the room not with power, but with steady focus, like deep roots under the soil.
"This is Lira," Elion said. "She’s ready to begin walking the longer path."
Therin studied her for a breath, then smiled. "Let’s see what you’ve brought."
Lira stepped forward and handed him the frost water. As he examined the shimr in the vial, sothing in her chest settled.
She was ready to learn more.
Grandmaster Elion gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "You’re in good hands now, Lira," he said warmly. "Listen well, ask questions, and trust your senses. I’ll be watching your progress."
With that, he turned and stepped out, leaving the room quiet save for the faint bubbling of a nearby cauldron.
Master Therin approached, his moss-green robe brushing softly against the stone floor. He gestured for Lira to sit at a nearby worktable.
"So," he began, his voice steady like the hum of roots underground, "what potion are you attempting?"
Lira opened her pouch carefully, revealing the blue silk bag that held the ice lotus petal. "I’m trying to learn how to use the ice lotus in a potion. I’m not sure yet what it’s ant for, but I feel like I’m supposed to figure it out."
Therin studied her face for a mont, then gave a slow nod. "The ice lotus... it’s rare, and powerful. Not sothing many students even get to touch in their first year. You’re walking an unusual path."
Lira tilted her head slightly. "Is that... a bad thing?"
He shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. "Not at all. But it requires a different kind of discipline."
He turned, gathering a few small jars and sprigs of dried herbs. "Before we work with the lotus, I want you to brew a few simpler potions. Test your focus. Your patience. Your ability to blend without rushing. Anyone can stir herbs in water, but true potioncraft is about harmony."
Lira nodded, feeling a calm determination settle in her chest. "I’m ready to try."
Therin placed a small bundle of pale-blue frostleaf and a tiny bottle of moonvine essence before her. "Let’s begin."
Master Therin’s workshop was nothing like the airy greenhouses or glowing forge rooms. It was quieter, dimly lit by soft lanterns that hung like floating stars around shelves stacked with labeled jars, dried herbs, vials, and stone bowls. In the center stood a wide, heavy table with a cauldron-like pot embedded in it, ringed by copper runes.
"This place slls... alive," Lira murmured, stepping closer.
Master Therin smiled slightly, brushing off a spot beside the cauldron. "That’s because it is. Every brew leaves a trace. This table has seen thousands of potions, joyful ones, bitter ones, potions that sing or sting."
He reached for a bundle of dried green leaves and laid them beside the pot. "We’ll begin simple. A clarity draft. It clears the mind and steadies breath, important for any elenter, especially when learning to focus."
Lira nodded, watching as he ground the herbs with a stone pestle. His movents were slow, deliberate, as if listening to the leaves.
"Brewing is about rhythm," he said. "Like Maelin with fire, or you with earth. Feel when the herb gives, when the scent rises. Respect it."
He passed the bowl to her.
Lira mirrored his movents, slower at first. As she crushed the herbs, a cool, minty fragrance blood into the air. Her fingers tingled slightly,not from magic, but from the attention she gave. It felt almost like the plant was responding.
"Good. Now water." He poured fresh spring water into the cauldron, and it shimred faintly under the copper runes. "You stir. Three slow turns clockwise, then one counter."
She did as told, careful, steady. When the herbs were added, the liquid shifted color,from clear to pale green, then deeper with each stir.
"Focus now," Therin said gently. "Think of what you want this potion to do. Calm. Clear. Center."
As Lira stirred, her thoughts settled. She imagined a pond with no ripples, her breath even, her heart quiet.
The mixture glowed faintly for a mont. The scent grew sharper, then softened again.
"That’s it," he nodded with quiet pride. "Now we let it cool. When the color fades to light jade, it’s ready."
Minutes passed, and finally, he handed her a small glass bottle with a curled silver stopper. "Pour it in."
Carefully, she did. The potion glead in the bottle, like dew in moonlight.
Her first potion. Her heart fluttered as she held it.
Therin gave her a satisfied look. "You’re on your path now, Lira. Potions are more than mixing, your spirit stirs with them. That was well done."
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