Alaric pushed the door open. The bell chimed softly.
The interior was... professional. Clean white walls lined with shelves holding countless glass bottles, potions in every color imaginable, organized by purpose and potency.
Dried herbs hung from ceiling beams, their scent mixing into something medicinal but not unpleasant.
A workspace dominated the center, table covered with mortars, pestles, essence-infused tools for grinding and mixing.
Natural light streamed through large windows, supplemented by essence crystals providing steady illumination.
And then, a woman emerged from the back room. She looked to be in her mid-thirties in appearance.
Grey hair pulled back in practical braid. Sharp grey eyes that immediately assessed Alaric with professional scrutiny. She wore healer's robes, white with green trim marking her as licensed practitioner.
Her expression shifted. Eyes narrowing slightly, a frown creasing her forehead. "Who are you?"
Her tone wasn't hostile. Just wary.
