That evening, they stayed by the lake, the clearing now bathed in the cool, silvery light of a rising moon. The last embers of the sunset had faded to a deep indigo, and the first stars pricked the sky above the mountain peaks.
With a practiced flick of his wrist, Alex summoned a small feast from his item box. A thick woolen blanket appeared on the soft grass, followed by a low wooden board that served as a table. Saeko, now well-accustomed to this particular magic, didn't bat an eye. Instead, she began arranging the items he produced: a cast-iron pot filled with a hearty stew that still steamed, a loaf of crusty bread, a wedge of cheese, and a bowl of dark cherries.
But the final item made her pause. Alex produced a bottle of wine, its glass dark and dusty. The label, though faded, spoke of a vintage from a region known for vineyards that had long since been swallowed by forest.
