Whispers of Elysia

A job

Lyra followed Orion into the back of the atelier, feeling a mix of awe and reverence for the space. The wooden beams above added a rustic charm to the place, while the cobblestone floor grounded it in a sense of history. The long arched windows allowed just enough light to filter in, casting a gentle glow over the shelves that lined the walls. Each shelf was filled with colorful potions, dried herbs, and neatly labeled jars, creating a vibrant tapestry of ingredients and tools that spoke to the centuries-old craft of alchemy.

She found herself lost in admiration, almost feeling as though she was intruding on something sacred. The atelier was more than just a workspace; it was a sanctuary of knowledge and skill. Lyra's eyes sparkled as she took it all in, her heart swelling with a deep appreciation for the art of alchemy.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted when Orion placed a sheet of paper on the wooden table in front of her. "With the ingredients that you have here, you should make me a remedy for this woman," he said, his tone businesslike and direct. "Here is her diagnosis: in her 40s, coughing started a few months ago, large dark spots on her chest, blood taste in her mouth regularly, lost a lot of weight because she's unable to feed herself."

Lyra blinked, her trance broken by the seriousness of the task at hand. She glanced down at the diagnosis, quickly absorbing the details. Before she could ask any questions, Orion continued, "You have three hours to make something acceptable." With that, he turned and walked away, leaving her alone with the challenge.

Lyra furrowed her brows as she watched him go, feeling a surge of determination rise within her. "Something acceptable?" she scoffed softly to herself, her pride as an alchemist now firmly in play. He was clearly testing her, perhaps even doubting her abilities. But she wasn't about to let that stand.

She took a deep breath, pushing aside any lingering nerves. This was her moment to prove herself, to show Orion—and herself—what she was capable of. She rolled up her sleeves, her mind already racing with ideas and possible ingredients.

Moving swiftly, she began gathering the necessary items from the shelves, carefully selecting the herbs and potions she would need. The atelier's array of resources was impressive, and she felt a thrill of excitement as she started to work. Lyra was determined to create not just something acceptable, but something exceptional, something that would make Orion take notice.

As she mixed and measured, crushed and brewed, her focus sharpened, and the world outside the atelier faded away. She was in her element now, channeling everything she had learned from her grandfather and beyond. The challenge invigorated her, and she knew that whatever doubts Orion had about her would soon be dispelled.

Three hours later, the scent of cologne wafted through the air, signaling Orion's return. Lyra, deeply focused on her work, raised her head to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, a faint smile playing on his lips. He looked almost too pleased with himself, and it didn't sit well with Lyra.

"Well?" he inquired, his tone carrying a hint of smugness that made Lyra's eyes narrow. She couldn't help but laugh, the sound surprising Orion enough that he raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

"What is it?" he asked, genuinely puzzled by her reaction.