Shimmering Heights was already full of activity as Atell greeted the rising sun. Many of the townsfolk had already begun their day in earnest despite the early hour, bustling to and fro across the wide streets of packed earth.

As Atell was enjoying the view, Sivelle walked outside and grabbed a mat from underneath the straw chair nearby. She glanced in his direction but didn’t seem surprised that he was already awake. Her stride was smooth as she walked out into the front yard and placed down the mat near the center of the lawn. After a brief warm-up, she initiated a series of stretches and exercises. Her movements were graceful and fluid. The whole sequence was illuminated by a warm, radiant light as Helios’ all-encompassing vision crept higher up the mountainside.

Careful not to disturb the peace, Atell observed in silence. He felt like was watching the training sequence of a master warrior as Sivelle spun, dipped, and dodged, unleashing a flurry of fluid strikes at imaginary opponents. All the while, her eyes were narrowed in a murderous glare…

He never would have anticipated she possessed this intense and combative nature. From his perspective, all of her attention seemed singularly devoted to Concocting and caring for her plants. They hadn’t been together longer than a day, but the brightness in her expressions when talking about extraction, distilling, and other terms unfamiliar to him — was almost fervent.

Not a single trace of that inquisitive and professional woman could be found at the present as her hands sliced through the air. Atell’s spine was rigid as he clenched the armrests of his chair, afraid to even blink.

When it looked like Sivelle was finishing up, Atell ran inside to fetch water for her. He’d resolved himself to work hard and quickly pay off his debt, so he wanted to present himself earnestly.

As he hurried back out, Atell noticed an unfamiliar face had arrived in the yard.

“Lady Sivelle, I thought I’d catch you outside at this time. I must admit, I’m a bit jealous of your sprightly disposition.” The large woman wore a flattering smile as spoke. It reminded Atell of the look the elders often presented to the Aurelians.

“Miss Lotti,” Sivelle spoke plainly and offered a nod. “What brings you here?”

“Ah, I just wanted to check-in on the status of the Cooling Tonics. Many of my contacts have already stopped by to place their purchase orders, but I know you’ve been busy taking care of that new arrival…” Lotti’s words trailed off as her eyes finally landed on Atell. “Oh my! Speak of the devil and he shall appear. It looks like the child’s already made a full recovery. I’d expect no less of Master Sivelle.”

The woman rushed over to Atell and grasped his hands. Her smile actually seemed to carry a hint of genuine warmth as she looked down at him.

Atell, however, was a little flustered by her sudden approach. Miss Lotti towered over him. Her skin was dark and looked leathery, almost like a hide. She was even taller than Sivelle, broader too. Even a few of the adult Troll-Bloods couldn’t compare to her imposing stature.

“Ah, H-Hello. Nice to meet you, Miss Lotti.” Atell looked down as he tried to extricate himself without spilling the cup of water he was carrying.

“Nice to meet you too…” Lotti paused, waiting for him to present his name.

“...Atell.”

“Atell, a lovely name. I’m so glad to see you in good health. Everyone in town was so worried when we saw Sivelle rush back with you from the forest.”

“Thank you for your kind thoughts. Lady Sivelle took great care of me. I owe her my life.”

Lotti laughed loudly. It was a deep and rumbling laugh, instantly brightening the atmosphere. “Well said, child. Sivelle, you saved such a valiant young man this time around.”

Sivelle couldn’t suppress a smile of her own as she walked over. “Yea, yea. He’s alright.” She winked at Atell as she snatched the glass of water from his grasp. “I’ve decided to take him on as an assistant for a while. You’re right that his case set me back a bit, but with an extra pair of hands, I should be able to make up for the lost time. Go ahead and tell your customers that the Cooling Tonics will be ready at the usual time.”

Miss Lotti sighed in exaggerated relief as she placed a hand across her chest. “Wonderful! I’ve received so much good news today. I don’t want to take up any more of your time, Lady Sivelle, so I’ll be heading back.”

“Take care, Lotti.” Sivelle waved her off, unsurprised by the woman’s abrupt departure.

Atell’s brows were furrowed as he gazed at the broad silhouette of the departing figure. The range of emotions the woman displayed in such a brief interaction left him feeling confused.

“Don’t think about it too much, kid. She’s a merchant. They’re all like that to an extent,” Sivelle explained as she patted him on the back. “Thanks for the drink.”

As he followed Sivelle back inside, Atell decided to avoid that energetic visitor in the future if he could.

“You heard what Lotti mentioned about the Cooling Tonics, right?” Sivelle asked as she rummaged around in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. After Atell verified with a nod, she continued, “Well, that’s what we’ll be working on for the foreseeable future. It’s a relatively simple potion that I’m well-known for in the surrounding area. When the days start getting hotter — like they are now — it’s in pretty high demand.”

“What’s it do?” Atell asked as Sivelle presented him with another large plate of meat.

“It helps prevent the farmers and other laborers from getting overheated as they work. Gives em’ a little boost of stamina too.”

“That’s it?” Atell was expecting something a little more… miraculous, for the signature product of someone he believed to be so skilled and knowledgeable.

“Yup. That’s it. You probably have some sense of how valuable potions and elixirs are. So, can you imagine if everyone in your tribe was able to get their hands on multiple potions each week to help with work? It makes for a pretty big boost in productivity.”

“So, it’s cheap?” Atell replied through a mouthful of food. He had to admit a luxury like that sounded too good to be true. The heat in the mine could get suffocating at times, a Cooling Tonic during those occasions would be a godsend, and could even save lives.

Sivelle didn’t seem to mind his lack of manners as she chuckled. “Very cheap. Each tonic only costs a few copper bits, if converted into the currency you use up north.”

Atell was shocked. The Troll-Bloods only managed to accumulate tens of copper bits each year through their under-the-table trades, but that could still purchase them a large batch of these Cooling Tonics.

“How!? What’s it made from?”

“All those simple little herbs you saw in the garden yesterday,” Sivelle smirked.

“Really? Then why doesn’t everyone make these potions?” Atell was still having trouble shaking his skepticism. He vaguely recalled that all those herbs were relatively common ingredients that could be found nearby.

“Because they can’t do this,” A cold azure mist formed above Sivelle’s palm. He could distinctly feel the temperature drop inside the kitchen. “What separates Concocters from those ‘medicine men’, or even skilled Alchemists, is their ability to infuse their Mana into the refining and mixing process.”

“I see…” Atell replied, unconvincingly.

“Look, it would take a long time to fully explain, but the gist of it is this: Traditional herbal remedies are made using common ingredients and medicinal herbs. Alchemists can make potions and elixirs using magic ingredients, but only Concocters can create their own truly unique products.” Sivelle elaborated.

“Got it.”

“Good, because it’s about time we get to work.”

***

Sivelle held her hand over the beaker absentmindedly, slowly purifying and extracting the essence of the Venom Sage within. The fire under the beaker warred with the strands of her frigid Mana entering from above.

Her lips pursed as she consciously held herself back from admonishing the boy working across from her. Pulp, petals, and bits of stem splattered across the table as another pestle cracked apart in his hands. The hesitant and apologetic glances directed her way sent pangs of guilt through her heart.

It was a shame, really. This little assistant was obedient, eager, and possessed an intriguing bloodline. Unfortunately, it seemed the boy’s recent Awakening had ruined his coordination for the time being, and Sivelle wasn’t well-versed enough in such topics to offer advice. She would try to help in the coming days, but he would need a mentor with more specific knowledge in the future. Preferably, a Demon with similar abilities.

Both Demons and Fae were beings close to nature; however, the differences in their inheritances and magics couldn’t be further apart. There was a time when Sivelle performed research with a few Warlock Concocters. The potions they produced were some of the most bizarre and potent she’d ever seen. When she took Atell on as an apprentice it was in part due to her interest in studying how his magic would interact with ingredients. This desire was especially strong after she witnessed his body regenerate on its own from the brink of death without any lasting injury.

Not only did the child avoid a sequela, but his Origin Channels were also completely restored, appearing exceptionally broad and tough. Origin Channels were notoriously difficult to heal. Even Sivelle herself was limited in her ability to perform such a task. Rare ingredients on par with the ashes of a Phoenix were required to brew such a potent healing potion. Yet this boy had achieved something even greater, in her humble opinion, without an iota of Mana in his body.

Her experiments would have to wait until after the boy had formed his Mana Pool, of course. But she was in no rush to push him towards that step. She’d already waited nearly two hundred years for her quiet retirement, what was a few more…?

‘Truly incredible.’ Sivelle shook her head, still marveling at the feat... ‘Shit.’ She had lost herself in thought and the boy had taken her silence and head shake for disappointment. His eyes were glued to the floor as he stood rigid.

“Nothing to fuss about,” Sivelle assured the scrawny child. “Your body is still recovering, and it will take a while to adjust. I just wanted to get you familiar with all the different steps today.”

Fear and loneliness still haunted the boy’s round, golden eyes. Sivelle regularly found herself drawn to them, eager to see them shining with the vibrancy of youth and delight. She understood his pain well, a similar product of the lawless and violent Northern Wilds. Time would heal his heart, but he needed a purpose and a guiding hand in the meantime.

“Lotti should have had some crates delivered up to the house while we were working. I still have a few Tonics to finish up, but if you don’t mind bringing them back here, it would be much appreciated.”

The boy dashed off without a word. Tasking him with deliveries would suit him well until he adjusted to his body. ‘Maybe even some hunting and gathering in the future…’ Sivelle mused; although, that would similarly have to wait until he was an Initiate.

Continuing to refine and amend her plans, Sivelle lost herself in the task at hand.

***

Atell placed down the final crate and wiped the sweat from his forehead with a sigh. The task wasn’t very strenuous, in fact, his body felt even more full of vigor after completing the task. Still, he was drained by his knowledge that Sivelle had only delegated him the work because he had failed at pretty much everything else he was assigned.

It was immensely frustrating. His hands fumbled about with the tools and his application of strength was anything but delicate. The fact that it felt like these failures were out of his control was what discouraged him the most. His own body! And he couldn’t get it to act as he wanted.

‘One thing at a time,’ Atell reminded himself. Sivelle didn’t seem like she knew of anything to help him fix this issue in the immediate future. Either that or it was some strange test of will of persistence… He supposed he could only do his best with what he was tasked and hope for the best.

Atell straightened his back and stood at attention like he was taught by the Overseer. He gladly awaited his next assignment.