Potion Permit [010025f0126fe000][v0][us].nsp.rar Apr 2026

Later that day, as Elara walked toward the tavern to buy a snack for her loyal dog, a grizzled fisherman stopped her. He didn't say thank you—not yet—but he handed her a small bundle of .

"My back’s been aching," he grunted, looking away. "If you’re as good as they say, maybe you can make something for that."

She administered the potion at dusk. By midnight, Rui’s fever vanished. By morning, the boy was asking for breakfast.

The rhythm was a dance. She chopped the berries until the juice ran dark purple, then titrated the Jasmine oil drop by drop. The cauldron bubbled, shifting from a murky brown to a shimmering, translucent gold. As she poured the into a vial, she felt the hum of the town’s ancient roots through the floorboards.

Her first patient was a young boy named Rui, who had fallen into the icy river near the Glaze Iceberg. The local herbalists had tried their traditional poultices, but the fever wouldn't break.

The villagers didn’t wave. They watched from behind half-closed shutters. In Moonbury, memories of a past alchemist’s disaster were as thick as the morning mist. But Elara wasn't there to argue; she was there to work.