The scent of faint herbs and fire still lingered in the room as Argolaith cleaned his work area.
Dozens of vials and pill jars floated gently into his storage ring, sealed with mana-locks and categorized neatly by function. Each one gleamed faintly—magic-rich, perfectly balanced, and made to perfection.
He looked over the finished work once more.
Satisfied.
Then he turned, laid back on the bed, and stared at the shifting constellation illusion overhead.
Tomorrow would be his first true day at the Grand Magic Academy.
He closed his eyes.
Sleep came easily.
When the false-sunlight of the pocket realm's dawn filtered through his window, Argolaith rose with calm efficiency. No alarm. No lingering thoughts.
He stretched once, then made his way to the kitchen alcove near the back of his quarters.
