At some point in the night, Misty had shifted positions. Now, she was curled half on his shoulder, half nestled into the crook of his neck, her small body radiating warmth. Each slow, rhythmic breath was punctuated by a soft, barely-there purr—a steady, soothing vibration that, despite everything, made the world feel momentarily safe again.
The other sleeper was Elara.
She had rolled in close during the night, her arm draped lightly across his chest, one leg tangled over his. The warmth of her against him, the steady rise and fall of her breathing—it was… nice. Too nice.
But reality had its demands.
‘This is all very comfortable, but… I really need the bloody bathroom.’
Del considered his options. A slow, calculated escape or the risk of waking them both?
He opted for the former, shifting carefully, sliding out from beneath Elara’s arm inch by inch.
The moment he moved, she stirred.
Sleepy eyes blinked open, clouded with the haze of half-dreams. A soft, murmured sound escaped her—somewhere between protest and acceptance. For a brief second, she nestled closer, pressing the warmth of her palm against his chest as though trying to ground herself before consciousness fully took hold. Then, sensing his intent, she shifted just enough to free him, eyes already drifting shut again.
Del hesitated for half a breath, watching the way sleep pulled her back under, the gentle rhythm of her breathing deep and unguarded. The moment felt… still. Uncomplicated. A stark contrast to the world they lived in.
Then, with care, he slipped away.
A faint, silver-grey light filtered through the window—not quite morning, but no longer deep night. Outside, the world still belonged to the quiet, the hush before the village stirred. The distant hoot of an owl drifted through the wooden shutters, fading into the rustle of unseen leaves.
Far too early for a sane man to be awake.
‘Damn beer before bed waking me up.’ He grumbled internally as he padded away.
Once he had dealt with necessities, he wasted no time returning to bed. Another hour or so of sleep wouldn’t hurt.
Rolling onto his side, he was met with a distinctly unimpressed feline. Misty gave him a narrow-eyed, huffy look before prancing across the mattress, repositioning herself once more with exaggerated dignity.
Elara shifted too, rolling into his back, her arm lazily draping over him again.
Just as sleep began pulling him under, something soft and warm brushed against the back of his neck—a feather-light touch, barely there but impossible to ignore.
Lips.
Not an accident. A deliberate kiss.
The warmth lingered, even after she had settled back against him, her breathing slow and even. It wasn’t a demand, nor an invitation. Just… a quiet act of closeness, freely given.
Del’s eyes remained open for a moment longer, the weight of it settling over him. He exhaled slowly, pressing his forehead into the pillow. Sleep found him eventually, but the ghost of that touch followed him into his dreams.
By the time they made it down to the common room, the world had fully shaken off the last remnants of night. A fire crackled in the hearth, throwing flickering light across the well-worn wooden beams. The scent of fresh bread and crisp bacon curled through the air, mingling with the sharper bite of strong, black tea.
Chairs scraped against the floor. Somewhere near the back, a pair of villagers murmured in low voices over steaming mugs. Donna moved efficiently between tables, the clink of crockery and the occasional good-natured bark of laughter giving the space a familiar, lived-in warmth.
Del and Elara had barely taken their seats when Merl arrived, looking particularly eager as he raised a hand in greeting to Jake and Donna.
I thought I might join you for some of Donna’s bacon,” Merl announced, already eyeing the nearest platter as he dropped into a chair. “Figure I’ve earned it after last night. You wouldn’t deny a man his well-earned breakfast, would you, Del?”
Del snorted, stabbing his fork into a slice of bacon. “I wouldn’t dream of it. But if you want to keep those fingers of yours, I’d suggest ordering your own, you bacon thief.” Del grinned
Merl chuckled, unfazed. “You’re in a dangerous mood, I see. Must have slept well.”
Del hesitated for a fraction of a second, his mind replaying that moment just before he fell back to sleep. “Well enough.” He agreed.
The meal was accompanied by a vivid dissection of last night’s events.
“I need to see Paolo later,” Del said between bites. “We still need to finish getting to the bottom of all this mess, make sure nothing like it happens again.”
Before anyone could respond, Vita appeared, sliding into the seat beside them.
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“Morning,” she greeted, her voice still holding the slight roughness of sleep. “What did I miss?”
They caught her up quickly, summarising what had already been discussed.
“I need to see Paolo as well,” she said once they had finished. “So, if it’s alright, I’ll join you when you go.”
Del nodded. “Of course. I also have a few things I need you to take a look at when you’re up to it.”
That settled, they finished eating, washing down the last bites with mugs of warm tea before heading upstairs—Vita in tow.
The moment they entered the room, Vita turned to Del with curiosity.
“So, what do you have for me to look at?”
Del gestured to the chest, stepping over to unfasten the lid.
“I believe much of the contents fall into your line of work,” he said, lifting it open. “So I’d really appreciate it if you could help us figure out what’s what.”
Vita stepped forward, eyes widening slightly at the myriad vials, bottles, and assorted goods within. She let out a low whistle.
“This man was either an accomplished alchemist himself…” she murmured, reaching for the first of the vials, turning it in her fingers, watching how the liquid inside caught the light. “…or else spent a lot of money to stock this.”
One by one, she began sorting through them. Each bottle was given a careful examination—swirled, held up against the window, studied with an appraising eye.
Occasionally, she would ease out a stopper and take a cautious sniff. A wrinkle of the nose. A furrow of the brow. A nod of approval. Each reaction measured, her alchemist’s instinct guiding her through the process.
One or two vials warranted further testing. Vita dabbed a careful drop onto the tip of her finger, bringing it lightly to her tongue, pressing her lips together as she considered the taste.
Her expression shifted between curiosity and calculation.
Del watched her work, arms folded across his chest. There was something oddly methodical about the way she went through it all. A precision honed over years of practice.
Whatever was in that chest, it was more than just a few trinkets.
Del could almost feel the air crackling around Elara. Her fingers twitched, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch the bottles herself. Every time Vita lifted a vial, Elara’s eyes tracked the motion, sharp with unspoken questions. The restraint was impressive—normally, she’d be elbows deep in the examination by now. But for once, she held back, her curiosity tempered by patience. Just barely.
Finally, Vita sat back on her heels, rolling her shoulders before exhaling a slow breath. The room was quiet, the only sounds the distant murmur of voices below and the occasional soft clink as a bottle settled against another. The faintest hint of crushed herbs lingered in the air, mingling with the musty scent of the wooden chest. Vita’s fingers traced absently across a row of vials, almost as if deciding where to begin.
“So,” she said, glancing up at Del. “What do you want to know?”
She shook her head slightly at the chest, fingers trailing lightly across some of the bottles as if committing their placement to memory. “To be honest, there are things in here I’ll need more time with—proper study to figure out exactly what you’ve got.”
Her fingers continued their slow path, almost a caress, before she picked up a collection of six identical bottles, each filled with a clear liquid.
“The basics first.” She held one up to the light. “This is pure water—highly refined water infused with mana. It’s used to dilute and create potions. These alone would set you back at least three silver a bottle.”
Del let out a low whistle.
Vita gave him a knowing look. “Alchemy isn’t a cheap pursuit,” she said dryly.
She then gestured to another set of bottles, each filled with different solutions.
“These are acids and alkalis, all used for distilling ingredients and extracting their essential elements.” She turned one vial carefully in her fingers. “If you want to make something truly potent, something worth the effort, you need proper extraction. Of course, you can always mash up a herb and slap it on, and it’ll have some effect… but the difference between a raw plant and a properly distilled ingredient is night and day.”
Del’s mind flickered back to his first crude attempt at herbal medicine, the mashed-up feldspar he’d slapped onto a wound in his early days here. ‘Medicine man you sure were not, my old chum.’ He smirked faintly at the memory.
The rest of the chest’s racks held smaller vials, most barely containing more than a sip or two. As Vita sorted through them, the final tally emerged:
- Five healing potions—one particularly strong, capable of dealing with truly life-threatening injuries.
- Three vigour potions—designed to rejuvenate a tired body, restoring near full ability.
- Two strength-enhancing potions—capable of granting a temporary surge in power, allowing the drinker to carry far more than usual. Duration unknown, but Vita guessed at around an hour.
- Seven unidentified vials—mysterious liquids Vita couldn’t immediately recognise, requiring further study.
Setting the last bottle down, Vita sat back and arched a brow. “So, are either of you planning to take up alchemy?”
Del shook his head. Herbalism had been useful, but full-blown alchemy? Not in his plans.
Elara, however, hesitated before responding. "I’m interested," she admitted, her voice quieter than before. "But I need to master my nature magic first. It’s… personal. When I was younger, I thought magic was just spells and incantations—big, dramatic things. But the more I learned, the more I realised that real power comes from understanding the world itself. Alchemy is just another way of bending nature to your will."
She hesitated, running a fingertip along the rim of one of the vials. "I could make my herbs stronger. Make my magic stronger. Maybe even make something that… lasts."
Del watched her for a moment, noting the wistfulness in her tone. Something about the way she said it made it feel less like a plan and more like a wish.
Her gaze flickered over the array of potions before them, and there was a hint of regret there—the pull of untapped potential.
Vita gave a small nod, thoughtful. “In that case, if you’re considering it, I can offer you a potion pouch—safely holds up to twenty potions—along with a collection of pastes and powders.” She gestured towards the remaining stock, doing a quick mental tally. “Plus, I’ll give you twenty-one gold and six silver for the chest and its contents. You keep as many of the potions as you want, and I’ll even throw in a couple of pots of feldspar paste.”
Del raised a brow at the offer, then glanced at Elara. ‘Is that a good deal? I sure don’t want to be lugging this bloody chest around with us.’
“You’ve got a better idea of the value of this stuff than I do,” he said, watching her reaction.
Misty chose that moment to stroll over, rubbing against Vita’s side, angling for a scratch behind the ears. As Vita obliged, the feline sent a single thought into Del’s mind.
‘Trust.’
At the same time, Elara nodded. “It’s a fair price, Del. More than fair, to be honest.”
Del let his gaze drift over the spread of vials, the open chest, the money Vita was offering. There was no denying it—this was a hell of a deal. Twenty-one gold wasn’t a fortune, but it was more than a comfortable cushion. Enough to hopefully get them to the city without worry.
And yet… there was something about the chest. Something about the weight of it in his hands back at the quarry. The mage had been willing to die with it rather than leave it behind.
His fingers drummed once against his knee. It was a good deal. A necessary one. But as he looked at the vials spread before them, a quiet voice in the back of his mind nagged at him
‘What might you be about to give away, Del?’
Shaking off the thought, he extended his hand. "Looks like you’ve got yourself a deal, Vita."
Decision made, he extended his hand.
She shook it firmly.
Del exhaled, already thinking ahead. “Let’s get this packed away,” he said, rolling his shoulders, his exhaustion starting to creep back in.
Then he gestured towards the door.
“And then—let’s go see Paolo.”