Scents of crushed herbs and burning incense filled the eastern wing of the estate, moving through the hallways like phantom breeze.
The room was warmer than the others, unnaturally so, and lit with a strange orange glow that beat against the walls like firelight through amber.
Lan stepped inside.
The side chamber had once been a study, long since abandoned. Now, it had become something far more. Copper cauldrons bubbled quietly over rune-inscribed braziers.
Shelves were crowded with jars of crushed bark, dried roots, and crystalized animal glands. Scrolls and diagrams covered one wall—half-inked symbols written in both the elegant script of old Solaris and the jagged glyphs of alchemical theory.
Two small furnaces at the back spat low flames, each emitting a different hue. The air was dense with Qi, not the kind that surged in battle, but something subtler—focused, cultivated, breathing.
