The morning sun filtered through the large window of Alaric's room at the Khysarel residence, its soft rays painting the space in hues of gold and amber. Alaric sat in a well-crafted wooden chair by the desk, the delicate parchment of Rosalind's letter held between his fingers. His eyes traced the elegant script with a thoughtful intensity.
The letter contained both good news and an intriguing proposition. Orion, the alchemist renowned across the lands, was willing to assist in crafting the Mystic Rejuvenation Elixir.
However, his packed schedule meant that he wouldn't be available for several months.
Alaric sighed, leaning back against the chair. "Months, huh?" he murmured, fingers brushing through his dark hair. "Patience it is, then."
He folded the letter carefully, tucking it into his pocket. Sharing the news with Iridelle could wait. There was no point in stirring up anticipation when the wait was so prolonged.
