Eldrin moved restlessly about his study, rifling through shelves and drawers in search of his adventurer’s bag and any other supplies he might need for the journey ahead. Books lay stacked haphazardly on his desk, maps partially unrolled, and ink-stained notes scattered among them—a testament to the countless hours he had spent preparing. Yet, despite all his planning, the simple act of gathering his things felt oddly daunting.

  The sound of soft footsteps pulled him from his thoughts as Tivariel entered the study, her keen eyes immediately scanning the room.

  "Looking for something?" she asked with a knowing smirk.

  Eldrin let out a weary sigh. "My adventurer's pack. I swear it was right here..."

  Without missing a beat, Tivariel crossed the room and plucked the worn pack from beneath a chair. She held it up, giving it a once-over—its leather straps frayed from years of use, faint scorch marks along the edges, and small nicks and holes from past encounters. It had seen better days, much like Eldrin himself.

  He took it from her with a grateful nod, brushing a hand over the familiar surface. "Guess it's been a while since I needed it."

  Tivariel leaned against the desk, arms crossed. "And yet, here you are, about to set out again. Are you ready for this?"

  Eldrin hesitated, then exhaled. "Elara and I are heading out to gather as much research as we can for our report to the Grand Arcanum. It should be a straightforward endeavor—just old texts, interviews, maybe a few ruins to explore. Nothing too dangerous."

  She arched a brow. "That’s not what I meant, and you know it."

  A silence settled between them. He knew exactly what she was asking—how he felt about stepping back into the world after so long. It had been years since he had gone on a real adventure, years since he had felt the weight of a pack on his shoulders, the anticipation of the unknown ahead. The anxiety crept in before he could stop it, the old doubts gnawing at the edges of his thoughts.

  "It’s... complicated," he admitted finally. "I haven’t done this in a long time. The idea of leaving again, of stepping back into that life... it feels strange. I know it’s necessary, but that doesn’t make it easy."

  Tivariel softened, nodding in understanding. "You and Elara both served the Empire. You fought, survived, and then came home to find that home wasn’t the same anymore. It makes sense that adapting to civilian life has been hard. But maybe this trip isn’t just about research. Maybe it’s about proving to yourself that you can still do this."

  He considered that for a long moment before nodding. "Maybe you're right. And having Elara with me helps. She gets it. She understands what it’s like to carry the weight of the past and still try to move forward."

  Tivariel placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "Then trust in that. Trust in yourself. And try not to get yourself killed before you finish your report, alright?"

  A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "I’ll do my best."

  As he secured the straps of his old pack, something inside him settled. The weight was familiar, grounding. Maybe this journey would be more than just a task for the Grand Arcanum. Maybe it was the first step toward reclaiming a part of himself that he thought he had lost.

  Tivariel turned at the doorway, pausing for a moment before speaking. Her voice was soft but steady.

  "I thought of making you a few things today. I plan to cook all day while you pack, ready your supplies, and prepare the horse. I should have enough provisions to keep you well-stocked for a while."

  Eldrin looked up from his bag, his brow furrowed slightly. "You don't have to go through all that trouble."

  She smiled, shaking her head. "It's no trouble. You know how I worry."

  She took a step back into the room, folding her arms. "Oh, and before I forget—I withdrew some coin from the bank yesterday while the children and I were in town, before we met you for lunch. It should be enough to get you around for a while."

  Eldrin exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. He had been so focused on the journey itself that he hadn’t thought about how he’d sustain himself on the road.

  "Thank you, Tiva. Truly."

  She gave him a knowing look. "I figure you’ll come up with a way to earn more coin if you need to—you always do."

  Eldrin chuckled under his breath. "You have that much faith in me?"

  "Always," she said simply. Then, with one last glance, she left the room, leaving Eldrin standing there, the weight of her words settling over him like a warm cloak. She always knew what to say and what to do-to make Eldrin feel more at ease.

  As Eldrin continued gathering his belongings, he became aware of something he hadn’t felt in a long time—a sense of progress. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but there it was. With each item he tucked into his pack, with every careful step in preparing for the journey ahead, he caught glimpses of the man he used to be. The scholar, the adventurer, the soldier—fragments of his old self stirring beneath the weight of years spent lost in stagnation.

  But just as quickly as the thought surfaced, so too did the ever-present doubt. His mind, ever the cruel trickster, seized upon it, dissecting it, reminding him that change was fleeting, that healing was an illusion. The moment of clarity slipped through his grasp like sand, and the familiar heaviness returned, wrapping around his chest like iron chains.

  Then—chime.

  The soft ring of the front door bell shattered his thoughts. He straightened, blinking as the weight of his own mind gave way to the immediacy of the present. Someone was at the door.

  As he walked from his study, he met eyes with Tivariel, who shot him a glance, her expression shifting from quiet concern to mild curiosity. "Expecting company?"

  Eldrin shook his head. "No."

  Setting his pack aside, he took a steadying breath before heading toward the entrance, pushing away the lingering ghosts of his mind. Whatever waited beyond that door was a problem for the present—not the past.

  When Eldrin opened the door, he was surprised to see Elara standing there, a wide grin on her face.

  "Hello, friend! Good morning!" she greeted cheerfully.

  Eldrin blinked, momentarily caught off guard. "Elara? How did you even find my home?"

  She smirked, folding her arms. "It wasn’t that difficult. You mentioned you lived just down the road from the healer’s ward, and—well—Millie is a rather unique-looking horse. Not exactly subtle."

  Before he could respond, Elara stepped forward and confidently pushed past him, inviting herself inside. "I brought a gift!" she announced, lifting a small jar. "A fresh batch of chamomile leaves for tea. Where’s Tivariel?"

  Eldrin sighed, resigned to her usual forwardness, and pointed toward the kitchen. But before he could hurry ahead to warn his wife of their unexpected guest, Elara had already made her way there, moving with the surety of someone who belonged.

  "Good morning, Tiv!” she called as she entered, her tone as casual as if she had been visiting for years. "I hope I can call you that."

  Tivariel, who had been setting a kettle to heat, turned to face their guest, her expression shifting from surprise to mild amusement. "Good morning, Elara. And yes, that’s fine."

  Eldrin arrived just in time to see his wife offering Elara a warm, welcoming smile—an immediate acceptance that caught him slightly off guard.

  "I’m alright," Elara continued, placing the jar of tea leaves on the counter. "I was just telling Eldrin that I brought you something. I thought you might enjoy some chamomile tea."

  Tivariel picked up the jar, inspecting the dried leaves inside. "That’s very thoughtful of you. Thank you."

  Eldrin folded his arms, watching the interaction with a mix of amusement and apprehension. It seemed his new adventuring partner was already making herself comfortable in his life—whether he was ready for it or not.

  Tivariel set the jar of chamomile leaves aside with a small nod of appreciation, but before she could turn back to her task, Elara leaned in with an eager curiosity.

  "So, what’s for breakfast?" Elara asked, peering over Tivariel’s shoulder as if she might get a sneak peek at the ingredients. "Are we talking something hearty? Eggs? Sausages? Maybe some fresh bread? Oh! Do you have honey? I love honey on toast."

  Tivariel stirred the pot as the scent of warm grains and fruit filled the kitchen. “Eldrin gifted me a tome just the other day,” she mused, glancing toward him with a small smile. “I thought I might try something from it this morning.”

  Elara’s ears perked up with curiosity. “Oh? A book? A tome, you say? What kind of tome?”

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  Tivariel wiped her hands on a kitchen cloth before reaching for a thick, leather-bound book resting on a wooden holder by the counter. She lifted it carefully and turned it so Elara could see the title embossed in gold lettering. “Here. The Garden of Gold: Alchemy and Herbology Secrets for the Home Cook and Gardener, by Wellson Oakheart of The Grove of the Green Bark.”

  Elara gasped, her eyes widening in shock. “Eldrin, you absolute gem of a man! That is a very fine gift for Tiv. Well done, my friend. I have heard of Wellson Oakheart before. Its said that his recipes can heal the sick and cure any element.” She clapped him on the shoulder with enough force to make him stumble a step.

  Eldrin muttered something under his breath about personal space but didn’t argue.

  Elara turned back to Tivariel, her excitement bubbling over. “Then you must be making something magical for breakfast. What’s on the menu? Some kind of enchanted honey drizzle? A fruit-infused elixir?”

  Tivariel chuckled, flipping through the pages with ease. “Nothing quite so extravagant. But this book does have a fascinating section on enhancing flavors with carefully balanced herb blends. I thought I’d try a small infusion in the porridge today—just a bit of lavender and clove to bring out the natural sweetness.”

  Elara pressed a hand to her chest as if she had just heard the most beautiful poetry. “Oh, I love that. A woman after my own heart.”

  Eldrin sighed, shaking his head as he leaned against the counter. “I have a feeling I’ve just made this worse for myself.”

  Elara shot him a playful grin. “Oh, definitely. You’ve doomed yourself to sharing your breakfasts with me now.”

  Tivariel smirked as she returned to her cooking. “Well, at least you’ll always have an honest food critic around.”

  Eldrin groaned, already resigning himself to his fate as Elara made herself comfortable at the kitchen table, eagerly awaiting whatever culinary experiment was about to unfold.

  Tivariel placed the open tome back on the counter in its holder, angling it slightly so the elegant script and intricate illustrations could be easily seen. The parchment pages, aged to a warm golden hue, held an illuminated recipe titled

  Enchanted Morning Porridge: A Breakfast to Revitalize the Soul

  A simple yet powerful dish infused with subtle magical properties to awaken the senses and strengthen the spirit.

  Ingredients:

  2 cups of oat grains (soaked overnight in moon-kissed water for enhanced vitality) 4 cups of fresh spring water (or enchanted well water for purity) 1 cup of golden honey (harvested under the dawn light to promote inner warmth) ? teaspoon of crushed lavender petals (calms the mind and wards off nightmares) ? teaspoon of clove dust (enhances magical focus and mental clarity) ? cup of chopped starfruit (for a boost of energy and a hint of celestial sweetness) A pinch of cinnamon bark powder (protective charm against ill omens) 1 tablespoon of fae-butter (or regular butter, if fae-butter is unavailable) A handful of candied nuts of your choice (to attract fortune and prosperity)

  Preparation:

  Step 1: The Warming Spell In a cauldron or heavy-bottomed pot, bring the enchanted water to a gentle simmer. Stir counterclockwise three times while murmuring a small incantation: "By the sun’s first light and the warmth of day, let this meal bring strength my way."

  Step 2: The Binding of Flavors Slowly pour the oat grains into the simmering water. Stir clockwise as the grains absorb the essence of the spring water. Let cook for 15 minutes, stirring occasionally.

  Step 3: The Arcane Infusion Once the porridge thickens, add the honey, crushed lavender, clove dust, and cinnamon. Stir slowly, allowing the aromatic essence to seep into the grains. As you stir, envision warmth and energy flowing into the dish.

  Step 4: The Celestial Garnish Fold in the chopped starfruit and a spoonful of fae-butter, watching as it melts into the mixture, giving off a faint golden shimmer (a sign of its magical properties).

  Step 5: The Final Blessing Spoon the porridge into bowls and sprinkle with candied nuts. Before serving, whisper: "May this meal bring joy and light, guiding me true from morn till night."

  Elara gasped dramatically, nudging Eldrin. “Your wife is making magic for breakfast, and you never told me? What else has she been hiding? A secret talent for potion brewing? A knack for summoning delicious meals out of thin air?”

  Eldrin sighed, rubbing his temples. “She’s just a very skilled cook, Elara.”

  Elara tapped the book’s open page. “No, this is more than cooking—this is art, alchemy, and a touch of spellcraft all in one.” She sniffed the air as the fragrant steam curled around them, the scent of honey, clove, and cinnamon wrapping like a warm embrace. “I might need to stick around your house more often.”

  Tivariel chuckled as she stirred the pot. “Well, in that case, I might need to start charging you.”

  Elara grinned. “Depends. Do you take payment in praise and enthusiasm?”

  Tivariel smirked. “Only if you do the dishes.”

  Eldrin groaned. “You’ve really done it now, Elara.”

  Elara only laughed, settling onto a stool with the contentment of someone who knew she had just invited herself into a permanent breakfast arrangement.

  ***********************************************************************************************

  After breakfast, Eldrin turned his focus to Elara, his mind already shifting into planning mode. He folded his arms and leaned against the counter, his expression thoughtful.

  “So, what’s the plan for our research?” he asked, his tone serious. “Where do you want to go first? We need to be thorough. Remember, we have to prove to these professors that we fully understand the arcane arts—how they work, how they influence our lives, their applications in history, theory, and practical magic. Do you need supplies? Have you already gathered your materials? What about travel arrangements? Should we map out a route? I’ve been considering the best order for our stops to maximize efficiency. We should start with primary sources—archival research, old tomes, maybe an interview or two. Then, of course, fieldwork—documenting real-world applications of magic. And we need to be meticulous about note-keeping because—”

  He stopped abruptly, narrowing his eyes as he realized that Elara had gone suspiciously quiet. She was leaning back in her chair, arms behind her head, the very picture of relaxed indifference.

  “Elara,” he said slowly, already suspecting the answer, “please tell me you’ve at least started getting things ready.”

  She grinned. “Nope.”

  His eye twitched. “No supplies?”

  “Not a one.”

  “No mapped-out route?”

  She shrugged. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

  “No research notes? No reference materials? No—”

  Elara waved a hand. “Eldrin, Eldrin, Eldrin. You’re thinking too hard about this.” She sat forward, drumming her fingers on the table. “I mean, come on! Where’s the adventure in planning everything down to the last ink stain? Magic isn’t about rigid structure and stuffy research papers—it’s about experience, about feeling it in your bones, about discovering things as you go! You’ve gotta loosen up, my friend.”

  Eldrin opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, clearly struggling. “Elara, the entire point of this journey is to study magic, not to wing it!”

  She smirked. “Says who?”

  “The Grand Arcanum, the professors, logic, reality—do I need to go on?” He threw his hands in the air. “Elara, how do you function like this?”

  Elara laughed, standing up and stretching. “Look, you’re the meticulous one. I’m the improviser. You make sure we don’t get lost in a tome for too long, and I make sure we don’t die of boredom. Balance.”

  Eldrin rubbed his temples. “Balance? That’s what we’re calling utter chaos now?”

  She clapped him on the back. “You’ll learn to love it.”

  Tivariel, sipping her tea, watched the exchange with amusement. “Sounds like you two are going to have a very interesting time together.”

  Eldrin sighed, already feeling the beginnings of a headache. “That’s one way to put it.”

  Elara grinned. “Before we get started, I want you to visit the clerics. I think they can help you with a few things before we set out. Would you be willing to give it a try?”

  Eldrin groaned. “This is going to be a nightmare. Sure, what’s the worst that could happen? They actually help me?”

  But despite himself, despite the frustration curling in his chest, there was a small part of him—one he wouldn’t admit out loud—that felt a flicker of excitement. Maybe, just maybe, Elara’s chaos would shake something loose in him that had been stuck for far too long.