The new marble doorway stood as a silent testament to the Inn's power. It was elegant, impossible, and exuded a gentle, inviting warmth. A fine, silvery mist, carrying the clean scent of rain on hot stone, curled out from the threshold, pooling at their feet like a curious cloud. For a moment, no one moved. They simply stared, caught between the lingering tension of the siege outside and the profound peace emanating from the new wing.
Leo, ever the proprietor, was the first to step forward. He had signed the purchase order, so to speak; it was his duty to inspect the goods. He pushed open the imaginary door and stepped through the archway.
The change in atmosphere was instantaneous. The air became warm and humid, thick with healing energy that seemed to soak directly into his skin, easing a tension in his shoulders he hadn't even realized he was carrying. He found himself not in a hallway, but in a vast, natural grotto.
The ceiling was a high, dark dome, from which hung thick, stone stalactites. The walls were smooth, dark volcanic rock, laced with veins of a softly glowing, moss-like lichen that provided a gentle, indirect illumination. The only sound was the tranquil trickling of water, a sound that seemed to scrub the mind clean of worry. In the center of the grotto was a large, steaming pool, its water a mesmerizing, silvery-grey color, like liquid moonlight. Smaller, more private pools were nestled in alcoves around the main chamber, each separated by artfully placed rock formations.
It wasn't a bathhouse. It was a sanctuary within a sanctuary.
"Well," Silas's voice came from behind him, full of an uncharacteristic awe as he and Lyra followed Leo inside. "I'll be damned. I've seen the fabled Sunken Springs of the Elven Courts and the Imperial Bathhouse in the capital. This place makes them look like muddy puddles."
Leo felt a surge of pride so potent it was almost overwhelming. This was his creation. His investment. He walked to the edge of the main pool and dipped his hand in. The water was hot, but it was a deep, penetrating heat that didn't scald. It felt alive. He could feel the magic in it, a gentle, thrumming power that promised restoration.
He turned to his tenants. "The landlord gets to test the new facilities first. It's in the fine print."
After finding a changing room that had somehow been stocked with simple, comfortable linen robes in their exact sizes, Leo was the first to slip into the water. The moment he was submerged, a wave of profound relaxation washed over him. The lingering stress from the Archmage's siege, the constant low-level anxiety of his new life, all of it simply… dissolved. The knots in his back, the tension in his neck—remnants from a lifetime spent hunched over a desk—eased and vanished. He felt years of exhaustion melt away into the silvery water. This wasn't just a bath; it was a reset button for the soul.
Silas was next, sinking into the water with a contented sigh, his usual sharp edges softening in the warm steam. He floated on his back, his tail swishing lazily in the water. "If you ever decide to sell day passes, landlord," he purred, his eyes closed, "you'll be the richest man in any reality."
Lyra was the last to enter. She was hesitant, her knightly discipline making her seem almost uncomfortable with such overt luxury. She moved with a stiff grace, her shoulders tight. She lowered herself into the pool, her expression guarded.
Then, the magic began to work.
Leo watched as the tension visibly drained from her face. The lines of pain around her eyes, etched there by betrayal and a desperate flight, softened. She took a deep, shuddering breath and sank lower, submerging her wounded shoulder. The silvery water around her began to glow with a more intense light as the healing magic concentrated on her old injuries. These were deep wounds, not just to her flesh, but to her spirit, scars left by the holy fire of her former comrades. The Ashen Baths were not just healing her body; they were cleansing her of the lingering taint of their magic.
A single, crystalline tear traced a path down her cheek and fell, hissing softly, into the pool. The fortress of the stoic knight was, for a moment, washed away, leaving only a woman who was finally, truly, beginning to heal.
A long, comfortable silence settled over them, broken only by the gentle trickling of water. Even the ever-present threat of the hunters outside seemed a distant concern, a problem for another time. Here, in the warm, magical steam, they were simply three people finding a moment of peace.
Later, as they were relaxing by the pool's edge, Elara appeared at the entrance. She had changed into one of the simple robes, her silver hair unbound. She looked at the grotto with a deep, ancient weariness in her golden eyes. She gave Leo a small, grateful nod before finding a private, secluded pool in a far alcove, sinking into its waters and letting the steam hide her from view. She too, it seemed, needed a moment of respite.
Leo leaned his head back against the warm stone, a feeling of deep satisfaction washing over him. This was right. This was a good investment. He had created something that not only increased the Inn's Value, but also healed its inhabitants.
As he was enjoying the moment, the Spirit Guide's voice bloomed softly in his mind. It was as calm as ever, but its message was new.
Master. The ambient healing aura of the Ashen Baths is potent. It is not fully contained by the Inn's primary domain and is now leaking, ever so faintly, into the surrounding Threshold mists.
Leo's eyes snapped open. Is that a problem? he asked mentally.
Not a problem, the Guide replied. An effect. Like the scent of fresh bread drawing the hungry. Be advised: low-tier, non-hostile entities adrift in the mists are being drawn to the source.
Leo sat up, a slow smile spreading across his face. His plan was working even better than he had anticipated. He hadn't just built a spa for his current tenants; he had built a magical, interdimensional advertisement for his Inn.
As if on cue, a faint but distinct sound reached them from the far-off lobby.
Knock. Knock.
It was a hesitant, timid sound, nothing like the desperation of Lyra or Elara. It was the sound of a new, curious customer, drawn in by the promise of sanctuary.