Lira wiped the back of her wrist across her forehead, smearing a trace of glittering pollen on her skin. The grove was heavy with the soft perfume of freshly brewed potions—floral, resinous, earthy and sweet. On the table before her stood rows upon rows of filled glass bottles, their contents swirling with soft elemental hues. Golden sunlight filtered through the leaves, but she hadn't noticed the passing hours at all.
Her fingers moved automatically now: crush the petals, stir the essence, weave in water, wind, earth, and fire—careful, always balanced. The grove seemed to move with her rhythm, every leaf and root breathing in time with her pulse.
A small rustling came from behind her.
"Hey," Renkai's warm voice broke through her focus. She blinked up at him, startled. He was leaning against a root of the giant tree, holding a basket filled with juicy golden fruits. His ears twitched softly as he tilted his head. "You haven't eaten since… who knows when. Here."
