The stone building’s outer walls were covered in dark green vines,
and an old wooden sign hung above the door, its inscription faded and blurry.
One could just barely make out the words "Magic Potion Materials & Custom Orders." The address plate read "12 Golden Oak Tree."
’This is the place.’
Aidele pushed open the carriage door and stood before the entrance, gazing silently at the wooden sign for a moment.
She reached out, her fingertips gently brushing over the worn edges. Her movements were very light.
Delia stood half a step behind her, a hint of heartache in her eyes.
"This is the property my mother left behind."
Aidele pulled her hand back. Her voice was calm, but Ian caught the slight tensing of her jawline.
"After she passed away, Old Finn has been managing it."
She pushed the wooden door open.
The hinges let out a soft CREAK, dry from a long lack of oil.
Inside was a small front hall, its lighting somewhat dim.
No one was behind the counter, and the shelves were sparsely stocked with common materials. Ian noticed that even the hidden corners were tidy and clean.
The room smelled of aged herbs, not the mustiness of an old house.
"Finn Wizard?" Delia called toward the back.
The sound of slow footsteps came from the rear hall.
A curtain was pushed aside, and an Elder Wizard in a gray long robe emerged.
His hair was graying, and the wrinkles on his face were like deep furrows.
His back was slightly hunched, but his eyes were still clear and sharp. In his hands, he held a crystal mortar he was in the process of wiping clean.
Upon seeing Aidele, an extremely complex emotion flickered in his cloudy eyes.
There was surprise, worry, and a barely perceptible hint of joy.
But more than anything, there was a profound weariness.
His gaze lingered on Aidele’s pale face for two seconds, then swept over Delia behind her.
Finally... it landed on Ian.
It was an undisguised appraisal, from head to toe, as if evaluating the worth of a piece of merchandise.
He couldn’t see through Ian’s aura, but he vaguely guessed the other man was a Level Two Wizard, and his brow furrowed almost imperceptibly.
He seemed a little surprised, but his expression quickly returned to being as still as an old well.
"Miss."
Old Finn’s voice was hoarse, like sandpaper rubbing. "You’re back."
He used no honorifics, his tone as flat as if he were commenting on the weather.
"Finn Wizard." Aidele inclined her head slightly, her back straight.
"I’ve returned. This is Wizard Marcus, the Honored Guest Elder I’ve invited. He will be staying here for the foreseeable future."
Old Finn’s hand, holding the mortar, paused.
He looked at Ian again, his gaze heavier this time, as if trying to see straight through him.
"An Honored Guest Elder?" he repeated, his voice betraying no emotion.
"Miss, an ordinary Level Two Wizard will have a hard time passing the family affairs hall’s review."
His words were direct, even grating.
Delia’s brow furrowed slightly and she was about to speak, but Aidele raised a hand to stop her.
"I know." Aidele’s voice remained steady.
But Ian saw her fingers, hanging at her side, clench and then relax.
"Please arrange for Mr. Ian’s accommodations, and... access to the Workshop’s underground Laboratory."
Old Finn fell silent.
He lowered his head and used the old flannel cloth in his hand to slowly wipe the already gleaming mortar, once, and then again.
The front hall grew quiet, dust motes floating silently in the beams of light.
After a long moment, he finally looked up at Aidele, the complex weariness in his eyes even more pronounced.
"Miss, what your mother left behind... this is all that’s left."
His voice was low, like a sigh.
"This Workshop has barely been scraping by all these years, just taking odd jobs to make ends meet. If you drag it into this... it won’t be able to bear it."
Aidele met his gaze, her pale face expressionless.
But deep in her eyes was a stubborn persistence.
"It’s precisely because it can’t bear much more that we have to take a gamble."
Her voice was soft, yet resolute. "Finn Wizard, I hope you can help me."
Old Finn looked at her for a long, long time.
Finally, he let out a deep sigh, a breath that seemed to bend his back even further.
"Fine... so be it."
He shook his head, turned, and walked toward the rear hall. "Follow me."
He led the three of them through the front hall to a small courtyard behind it, where a half-withered old Golden Oak Tree grew.
Across the courtyard was a row of rooms. Old Finn pushed open the door to the one at the very end.
The room wasn’t large and was simply furnished: a bed, a desk, a chair, and a wardrobe.
The window faced the courtyard. The surroundings were clean but held the chill of a place long uninhabited.
"A Magic Potion Alchemist used to live here. I’ve been keeping it tidy."
Old Finn gestured to the room. "If Mr. Ian doesn’t mind, he can stay here for now.
The kitchen is next door, so you can handle your own meals. The Workshop’s materials storeroom and Laboratory are over there..."
He pointed to a heavy metal door on the other side of the courtyard.
"I’ll give you the key in a bit. The equipment inside is a bit old, but it’s still usable. As for materials... there isn’t much left in the cabinets. The inventory list is on the desk."
His arrangements were concise and efficient, with the characteristic directness of an old-school craftsman.
No superfluous words, no pleasantries.
Ian nodded. "It’s more than enough. Thank you."
Old Finn waved a hand dismissively and looked back at Aidele.
"Miss, your room is the same one as before. Delia knows the way. You two get settled. I’m going to prepare dinner."
After speaking, he slowly walked back to the front hall, his back hunched.
Only after he was some distance away did Aidele turn to Ian, a faint, apologetic, and bitter smile on her face.
"Finn Wizard... he has a bit of a peculiar temper, but he means no harm. It’s only thanks to him that this Workshop has survived until now."
"I don’t mind."
Ian walked into the room and brushed his fingers across the desktop. There was no dust.
Aidele seemed to let out a sigh of relief.
"Tomorrow morning, we’ll go to the family affairs hall."
Her tone had become calm again. "We need to submit your registration as an Honored Guest Elder, as well as my paperwork for returning. After that..."
She paused. "We’ll officially enter the selection process. Time is tight."
Ian looked out the window at the Golden Oak Tree. The last rays of the setting sun filtered through its sparse leaves, casting fractured patches of light on the courtyard ground.
"Mm," he grunted in acknowledgment.
Gaga flew down from his shoulder and landed on the windowsill, curiously surveying the unfamiliar surroundings, its little head turning left and right.
Aidele and Delia left the room and went to their own quarters.
Ian closed the door, shutting out the sounds from outside.
He walked to the window and gazed at the heavy metal door across the courtyard.
A faint glimmer of Runes flowed across the door—the traces of a Protective Array, though the Energy fluctuations were very weak.
’A bit run-down and on the fringes, but independent.’
’Most importantly, there’s a complete Magic Potion Laboratory here. The equipment might be old, but it’s fully functional.’
’For me, this is enough.’
On his shoulder, Gaga nuzzled his cheek.
"Ian, it’s so quiet here, gaga... Much quieter than the ship."
"Mm." Ian rubbed its little head.
"From now on, this will be our new starting point."
He gazed out the window at the gradually darkening sky. In the center of East City, the Crystal Ball atop the Time Trace Tower illuminated a large portion of the city’s night sky.
Beneath the calm, an undercurrent had already begun to stir.
And he had just stepped onto the edge of this whirlpool.