The road back was kinder than the path in. The air no longer felt heavy, and for the first time in days, the wagons rolled without the constant dread of battle hanging over them. The guards spoke more freely, even laughing at small jokes, while the laborers worked with lighter steps. Victory had loosened the tension, and it showed in everyone's faces.
Boro's spirits were no different. He rode closer to Arden, and after a moment he stretched out a hand. "The flask, if you don't mind."
Arden took it from his pouch and passed it over without ceremony. The faint crimson glow inside still pulsed, the essence of the Crimson Aether Lotus steady within. Boro stared at it as though holding treasure beyond measure.
"You've done me a favor I can't repay," he said, his voice firm though his eyes betrayed gratitude.
Arden tilted his head. "You could start by telling me how you plan to use it. A herb like that doesn't sit around in a jar."
