When I arrived back home at the bakery, the sun was beginning to set. By then, the rain had long since stopped, and the streets had returned to their usual bustle as people began emerging from their homes to do whatever they could before it was time to go to sleep. I expected more weird looks, but really, not many of the people passing by me bothered to think why I was holding an unconscious child in my arms while walking.
Not that I would bother with explaining; it was good enough for me that Mira was going to live.
When I entered the bakery, the front was dark, and the shutters were already drawn down. However, there was warmth inside, coming from the ovens that had probably been working an hour before. The accompanying smell of fresh goods reinforced this idea as I closed the door behind me and headed upstairs, where, to my surprise, everyone else was waiting.
Lira was wiping her arms, just finishing giving the kids bread and some cheese, clearly anxious, until she realized I had returned. The others, including Puck, leaned back in their chairs, wide-eyed and silent, looking at me and then at Mira, unsure if she was dead or not. I didn't speak right away, glancing at Puck, noticing that he was already looking better, although he had a running nose, the little bastard. The thought made me smile, and as I did so, I gave a slow nod, causing their eyes to light up.
"It's fine," I said. "Mira's going to make it. But, come on, let's get her to a room and let her rest!"
The air changed instantly within the bakery. The tension was gone, and it could be felt. Lira let out a breath she'd clearly been holding for far too long and wiped at her eyes quickly, pretending she wasn't. Puck, even with her sore throat, cheered, while the other just slumped to the floor with a grin like they had just survived a war. One of the other girls, Salla being her name, whispered a prayer under her breath before hugging the others.
"She's... really okay?" Lira asked, coming up to me and finally taking Mira out of my hands.
"Clearly, she's not dancing yet and probably won't run around after she wakes up, but yeah," I said. "She'll live."
I didn't explain how, at least not now. I didn't need to, anyway, not before the kids. The potion, the screams, the reshaping of her bones... Yeah, that was a story I could tell some other time. Or never. Of course, I would tell Lira, but the kids... nah. They don't need to know.
"For now, all of you need to stay here," I added, my voice turning firm as I looked at Puck and the rest. "No runs! No watching the market... No errands unless I say so. Got it?"
"But..." Puck began speaking, but I cut him off.
"We were targeted. For a brief moment... Stay on your butts. Understood?"
"Y-yes..." They all nodded in the end.
"Good. Get back to eating, you little bastards." I chuckled, glancing at them one by one, "Then get some sleep."
When they returned to eating, I went with Lira to put Mira to rest, and she stepped up to me after we closed the door to the small room.
"You're not going to rest?"
"In a bit," I said. "Let the kids finish and go to sleep, then I can relax, too. But first, we need to talk; come on." I whispered, holding her hand without thinking, and pulling her into our own room.
It was, just as anything in this home, cramped but warm. Homey. I was fond of cozy little rooms anyway, so it didn't really bother me at all. Even if the bed wasn't much, tucked against the far wall, opposite a narrow desk stacked with notes, our day-to-day ledgers, and the occasional sweet wrapper I kept meaning to throw out when Lira brought me something to snack on. I put a kettle on the small burner in the corner, lit it up, and decided to make some coffee. Its scent quickly filled up the room, and I was already starting to relax my mind.
"I guess something did happen," Lira said as she shut the door behind us and watched as I dropped the Murian book onto the desk with a dull thud while waiting for my brew to finish. "What's this?"
"One of the happenings," I shrugged, sitting on the edge of our bed, "A book for potion making, straight from the Murians."
"Never heard of them..." Lira muttered, no change in her expression. "Is it... Important?"
"Kinda." I nodded with a smile, but I wasn't going to scare her with the book's origin... Maybe it was best if she didn't think about it too much. I know that if people realize something is hard, they can erect their own mental barriers just because of it. A fresh mind should be more useful this time around. "Turns out, the token we were gifted came in super handy! This was part of that and what saved Mira's life."
"Does it have spells? Runes? Some weird enchantments that make it scream when you open it?" she kept asking, sounding amazed. She touched the cover but was a bit apprehensive about opening it, only carefully fingering it.
"Good question!" I smirked. "Let's find out because I didn't open it yet!"
With that, I put my hands on hers and flipped it open before she could pull them away. Of course, there were no screams, and no blinding light erupted from it. It was a book... Just smooth, aged parchment and neat, impossibly fine handwriting that ran down the page like water over stone, making me think about how artists write just to show off their skills.
But... Surprisingly, underneath each set of Murian writing, there was a neat, precise translation.
I blinked my eyes in disbelief, leaning closer. The left-hand column was pure Murian script, for sure, written in elegant and archaic cursive letters. But the right side? Common tongue is one that I could read. Line for line, there were not just direct translations but full explanations and notes, addendums, and extra paper stitched to it that could be folded out, containing an even deeper exploration... The writer, I mean the translator, had added supplements, clarification lines, and margin comments wherever he could. Some even included diagrams showing how to shape pressure, heat, and infusion rates, with lists of alternative solutions if some ingredients weren't possible to use.
I recognized the structure.
No way...
"This is a textbook," I muttered.
"A what?"
"This is not just a formula book. It's a training manual. Like the kind you'd find at a university... One that was used by a very diligent student..." I traced a finger along the margin, reading the words. "There's a progression detailed here. And then... Basics, then core principles, then compound variations. Whoever owned this book either wrote this for someone who had no idea what they were doing, or this documents an alchemist's road to becoming a master."
Visibly excited, Lira leaned in beside me, brushing her hair behind one ear, sitting down, and snuggling up to me.
After flicking through it a little, we found that the page we were on showed the preparation of a base stabilizer and a neutral suspension medium meant to preserve infused magical properties. The explanation attached to it broke down the process into twelve exact steps: heating cycles, stirring rates, and anchoring with supplements that stabilized volatile reagents.
"This is... really clear," she murmured.
"What do you mean?" I asked because, on the other hand, I was wholly lost in the details. This was way too complex...
"I mean... it reminds me of when I first tried to make my cinnamon chili twists," she said, tapping the margin notes. "These temperatures here? That's how I tested glaze crystallization with ginger syrup. And that spiral stirring technique... I've done that. Not with potions, but when balancing caramel with lemon zest."
I stared at her.
"What?" she asked, suddenly blushing, our faces only a few centimeters apart.
"Lira," I said slowly, "you're telling me this reads like a recipe book to you?" She blushed even harder, clearly uncertain if I was teasing her.
"Kind of? Not all of it, of course! I'd need to test some of these steps a few times, for sure... But the logic—yeah. It's how you work with unstable dough or one that is made from subpar ingredients. Back home, I had to struggle with that a lot when we didn't have enough funds to afford quality yeast or something. When I had to deal with quick-reacting yeast... Some ingredients don't blend, you see. They like unruly children, and they like to fight. You have to find the compromise."
I leaned back a little, rubbing my jaw, looking back and forth between her and the book. This is... exceptionally great news. No, this is supremely great news!
"You think you could actually try this?" I asked, gulping down my excitement.
"If we had the ingredients?" she asked back, looking at the page again, squinting, concentrating. "Maybe..."
She didn't sound arrogant... She was even unsure and nervous. But she didn't say no.
"Good, then–"
"There's a section missing, though," she added, flipping a few pages, interrupting me. "All these recipes reference things like 'Redroot Resin' or 'Gossamer Milk' or... Some that I can't even pronounce. But there's no explanation, Auriel... It's assuming we already have the knowledge!
"Or a botanical codex." I nodded, seeing the issue here. "Yeah. I noticed that, too."
It made sense now. This book was meant to be part of a larger set, I guess. Maybe part of a curriculum. Whoever originally used it would've had access to not just the recipe book but also catalogs, labs, and a mentor. This was just one book... and... We had none of the others. Still, it is a start!
We had this.
"You know," I said, watching her eyes move over the text, "most people look at that kind of alchemy and run the other way. Well, as far as I gathered so far."
"Believe me, I would too!" She snorted playfully. "But if I have something so clearly detailed? It reads much more easily that way! Also, most people haven't tried making eggless meringue with heat-sensitive spices and three kinds of powdered sugar."
"I don't know what that means, but it sounds fair." I chuckled, happy to see that she also had a braver side to herself that was beginning to bloom. It was good to see.
Beginning to think about how to get information about the ingredient part of our potion issue, I stood and paced the small room for a moment, considering my options. The book had been a gamble, not even my main goal... But that woman in Silverhaven pushed it on me... When I got it, I expected something cryptic, something that would take months to decode, if not years. So, this was a pleasant surprise.
Instead of gibberish, I had gotten a manual.
"I don't want you risking anything yet," I said, turning back toward her. "Not unless you're sure."
"I'm not sure of anything," she said, closing the book gently. "But I want to try... If we can get the ingredients. This is potions, Auriel. I don't think we can do it without having the correct plants."
"I am glad you are this eager." I nodded, seeing her look away for a moment.
"I couldn't do anything for Mira," she continued, "But if I can learn this if I can make potions, then next time, maybe I can."
I sat beside her, nodding slowly, taking her hands and patting them.
"We'll need to find out what those ingredients are. Get access to some kind of botanical registry."
"I know someone at the market who sells dried herbs," she said. "She's old, half-blind, and says weird things like 'blessed by rootwater,' but she knows her plants. She might be able to help."
"Hah!" I laughed, but, eh, who cares? It is worth a shot. "Do it quietly, though. We must not let any hint slip that we're working with Murian knowledge."
"Obviously," she said with a roll of her eyes.
Seeing her do that, I laughed again. Suddenly... everything felt good, like a cork popping on a bottle sealed too long, ready to celebrate. I felt myself being fired up. Then I reached over and placed a hand on the book's cover.
"This thing's going to change everything... While you ask around with the half-crazy herbalist... Once again, I'm about to visit the Adventurers Guild. Somehow, I am feeling lucky..."