Life went on as usual. The alchemy room was a flurry of activity. The recent days found Syryn and Salem working from morning to night because of the orders that kept coming in to their business. Other potion shops were now buying their potions wholesale in order to sell them at retail. Lucien had also begun attending classes more seriously. And Rowan was busier than ever.
The giant cauldrons that Syryn had ordered from the blacksmith were due to arrive in the afternoon, and he was arguing with his business partner because-
"How did you even imagine we'd fit the cauldrons through the door?" Salem asked the mage. "How? Syryn, how? Tell me the logistics of it."
"I was getting murdered in my dreams, Salem. Have some sympathy." And that was Syryn's excuse for everything these days.
The half-elf looked down at Syryn through unimpressed amber eyes. "I thought you were smart but it turns out I was wrong."
