Silver Star City's midnight was always wrapped in a cold, meticulously crafted lie. The Aetheric Shield cast its milky, soft luminescence across the heavens, filtering the Academy's clock towers and colonnades into a vision of pure, unsullied sanctity. But that light failed to penetrate the abandoned industrial perimeter of the city. Elara's boots scraped across ground-down rust and slag. Her fingers clutched the Obsidian Vial containing the Star Dust Sand, the stone's sharp chill passing through her palm, yet unable to quell the fierce, surging urgency in her chest.
She had to refine her Concealment Elixir, and use it to barter for Steam Silver Crowns. Otherwise, the supply of resources from Silas would inevitably be cut, making it impossible to maintain the delicate façade of a Tier-Two Soother. This was the unbending Sanderson-esque rule of the world: survival hinged on a system of resources, and her path required an external economy. Thus, she sought out the only person within the Academy she could trust—Lionel Evans.
The back entrance to the servants' quarters was nestled between two heavily rusted steam conduits. Thick deposits of coal dust and grime clung to the metal exteriors; condensation water occasionally dripped down, striking the ground and leaving minute, dark scars. Elara raised her hand, tapping gently on the door panel, her voice barely a whisper against the night wind: "Lionel."
The door hinges groaned a protest. Lionel Evans peered out, his hair dusted with ash, his light brown eyes still smudged with machine oil. Recognizing Elara, he quickly stepped aside to let her pass, a half-sketched blueprint of interlocking gears clutched in his hand—work he had stolen time for while inspecting steam lines earlier that day. "Is something urgent?" His caution, the McClellan-esque wariness born of the commoner's lot, was evident.
Elara shook her head. She placed the Obsidian Vial on the scratched wooden table. Under the weak gaslight, the Star Dust Sand within the vial glimmered with a fragmented, imprisoned luminosity, like shattered starlight.
"I need a workspace to refine a 'special tincture,' one that cannot be detected by the Association's Aetheric Detection arrays." She deftly omitted the mention of The Rotting Earth Codex formula, stating only: "It can purchase the resources we need—such as the materials to stabilize your Stellar Core."
Lionel's breath hitched. Since his Stellar Core Awakening Ceremony had failed, his Stellar Core had been a flickering ember, incapable of even the most rudimentary Aetheric Perception, held in check only by the Calming Potions Elara occasionally provided. He gripped the blueprint, his knuckles white, his eyes reflecting the desperate, Rothfuss-esque yearning of a man deprived of his destiny: "There's an abandoned workshop near the Academy's edge. It was used for Aether-Mechanical Resonance research, but it's been derelict for half a year. I saw it while repairing the pipes; the Aetheric Pulse there is nearly absent. Even the Association's Detection Crystals wouldn't register it." He unfolded the sketch, pointing to a vine-covered location. "It still has intact steam piping. You once said… pipe fragments could be used for 'special vessels.'"
Elara's fingertip traced the conduits on the sketch. The entry for a Null-Aether Crucible in The Rotting Earth Codex snapped into focus: a base made from an abandoned steam pipe fragment, its interior coated with the viscous juice of Shadow Ember Moss to seal any escaping Witch energy. She rose immediately. "We go now, while the Aetheric Shield is running its routine surveillance cycle."
They moved through the shadows at the city's fringe. Rusted steam conduits coiled along the path like twisted metal skeletons, broken gears scattered among the weeds, exhaling an odor that mixed machine oil with decayed earth. The constant hum of the distant Aetheric Spire faded, and a faint, sickeningly sweet stench began to permeate the air—the residual taint of Abyssal Energy. Elara's palm scar, the Medium, throbbed faintly. She quickly drew her hand back into her cloak, careful that Lionel detected no anomaly of her Dissonant Power.
The iron door of the workshop was tightly bound by heavy vines. Lionel used a wrench to pry open a gap; the screech of metal in the silence was harsh and demanding. As they pushed the door inward, a complex scent rushed out—a mix of ancient parchment, mildew, and weak Aetheric decay, as if something long-slumbering had been violently roused. The interior was vast, traversed overhead by broken drive belts. Rusted cast-iron shelving held stacks of dusty glass jars, their contents—unidentified plant specimens—suspended in a strange, pale green liquid, like solidified Blighted Glimmer. In the corner stood a tarnished brass Aetheric Still, its surface etched with blurred resonance runes. On the stone workbench at the far end lay several moth-eaten books, their titles like "Industrial Aetheric Guidance" long faded.
"The pipes have moss." Elara approached a large central conduit, peeling back the vines. The inner wall was indeed coated with Phos-Green Lumina-Moss—the very Shadow Ember Moss listed in the Rotting Earth Codex as "easily procured in low-tier environments." "We can use this."
She turned to Lionel, who was staring at the old books with an undisguised, hungry yearning. She spoke, her voice flat: "I can stabilize your Stellar Core. I can make you a Tier-One Perceiver."
Lionel looked up sharply, his eyes widening in shock, then darkening with sudden anxiety: "You… are you serious? My Stellar Core almost scattered during the Awakening. The Association said I'd never be an Aether-Adept…"
"I know a specific herbal ratio." Elara bent to pick up a pipe fragment, avoiding Lionel's intense gaze. "It requires Shadow Ember Moss, Sulphur Powder, and a pinch of Star Dust Sand. The Sulphur Powder can be sifted from the scrap here, and the moss is on the pipes. It's not difficult." She simplified the complex Witch alchemy to mere "herbal ratios." "We just need to construct a 'special crucible' to prevent the tincture's energy from being detected."
Lionel nodded instantly. He took the pipe fragment to the stone table, clumsily scraping away the rust with a utility knife. "I'll do it! Just tell me how, and I will follow!" His motions were frantic with suppressed excitement, the metallic scraping echoing in the empty workshop, yet infused with a near-religious earnestness—he had never expected to touch Aether again.
Following the Codex's precise instructions, Elara guided Lionel: "The inside of the pipe fragment must be coated evenly with Shadow Ember Moss juice, or it will leak. The Sulphur Powder must be sifted three times, completely free of impurities; any contaminant can excite the residual The Blight in your Stellar Core. And this…" She pulled a small pinch of dark red Weeping Iron Rust from her pocket. She nicked her fingertip on the fragment, and a single drop of blood fell onto the rust. The iron instantly glowed a faint red. "This activates the stabilizing ingredient. Remember, only this exact amount." She didn't explain the blood, calling it the "key to activating the herbs." Lionel, focused on his task, simply nodded.
The gaslight was lit, illuminating the forming Null-Aether Crucible: the pipe scrap base, its inner surface coated with Shadow Ember Moss juice, glowing faintly blue. On the stone table lay the purified Sulphur Powder, the activated Weeping Iron Rust, and a small spoon of Star Dust Sand, like crushed starlight in her palm. Elara poured the ingredients into the crucible. Her fingertips hovered above the mixture, the familiar heat of her palm scar—the signal of the Witch's bloodline resonating with the materials—surged. She suppressed the intense thrumming, whispering to Lionel: "After you drink it, your senses will sharpen. Don't panic. Use the method I taught you to screen out the excess noise. That is the first sign of a Perceiver."
Lionel took the crucible and drank the pale golden tincture in a single swallow. He frowned at first, then suddenly clutched his chest, his eyes widening in astonishment: "I can hear… the moss growing in the pipes! And your breathing, ten times clearer than before!" He raised his hand. A faint Aetheric Luster emanated from his fingertips—the unmistakable sign of a Tier-One Perceiver . His Stellar Core was pulsing smoothly, as if it had never failed.
"It worked." Elara let out a silent breath. She watched Lionel excitedly testing his newfound Aetheric Perception, and suddenly the workshop was no longer a cold ruin, but their first true sanctuary in Silver Star City. "Tomorrow, I will visit the Underground Market and establish the pricing for the elixirs I can refine." She gathered the remaining Shadow Ember Moss. "The tinctures will purchase a substantial amount of Steam Silver Crowns—enough for the Aetheric Crystals you need for advancement, and enough for more Star Dust Sand."
Lionel immediately moved to the entrance, covering the iron door with vines again. A fierce, new determination shone in his eyes. "I will guard this place. I will stand watch while you refine your medicine, and I won't let anyone approach."
The night outside deepened. The Aetheric Shield's halo flickered in the distance, yet could not reach this forgotten corner. Elara looked at the crucible and materials on the stone table. The burn in her scar cooled, replaced by a sharp sense of purpose—she finally had a source of income, and Lionel was now a vital, capable partner. Even if Silver Star City's shadows grew denser, they finally had a foundation from which to fight back.