The Blood Acorn glittered in Ashlynn's hand like a jewel, drinking in the flickering candlelight of the small room in the Broken Blade Tavern and turning it green and blue and red. Colorful motes of light danced on the walls, like reflections off the surface of a stream, and the entire world seemed smaller in the presence of the strange acorn that was the result of Ashlynn and Nyrielle's efforts.
"The process of making this was... difficult," she admitted. "More difficult than anything that Nyri and I have ever tried before," Ashlynn explained softly. Ollie's eyes remained fixed on the acorn, and so did Ashlynn's. It was an impossible thing. A thing that had likely never been made before, and that no other witch could possibly hope to make after Ashlynn.
It was unique and incredibly precious.
