Leonhardt leaned on the cheap wooden balcony—the slightly musty scent, a little smoky with hints of dew, lingered in the air—the intense fragrance of herbs and spices flowed from the west.
He flicked his fingertip, creating an ember of flames, lighting the strange stick the stall keeper gave him to regulate mana.
A crisp and caramel flavour followed the moment he sucked on the mana stick—strangely, it loosened his mind, and the effects were immediate.
"Phew~"
He exhaled a thick screen of smoke that blew into the sky, above a giant moon enveloped the world, as if to devour it—big, silver and beautiful.
"What are you thinking about, darling?"
"Hm? Oh, it's Zafira?" He took another drag of the mana stick, the warmth and sweet taste cleansing his lungs, nothing like the barbaric cigarettes humans had created; this seemed to be something crafted by the elves using herbal and medicinal pine. "Did you miss me that much?"
