The Archmage smiled at his reply and looked towards the Nyre Flower, at the tip of this glowing purple flower were seven floating rods that were a shade of purple that was so deep it was almost black, the scent of Vitality escaping from those seven rods were monumental and even the Archmage arched an eyebrow at this change.
This was not normal, but it should be the best tonic that Andar needed to become a Mage, this monster of an Acolyte was not only immensely powerful, but it would seem that he was unnaturally blessed with great luck.
"Well, it's about damn time, my dear little sister is about to go crazy you know." A young man beside Andar punched his shoulder playfully. He had curly black hair that reached his neck, and he was wearing the latest risque fashion trend. The metallic platform below them rang from the heels of his steel-toed feminine boot.
