The morning passed in a warm, bustling rhythm. Amara had insisted on making breakfast for Arthur and Cirian, serving up a hearty meal of eggs, toast, and fruit. Arthur wolfed his down quickly before heading out to the yard, leaving Cirian to linger with Amara at the table.
After the meal, Cirian spent the morning showing Amara his array of elixirs. The bottles, vials, and jars cluttering his apothecary were filled with concoctions of various colors, some glowing faintly with magical energy. Amara, her training in Elven magic still fresh but expanding, recognized some of the elements in his work.
“You’ve been dabbling in elixirs that use elemental conduits,” Amara said, pointing to one softly glowing vial.
Cirian raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Not bad,” he said, his tone warm. “Seems you
