Vell had been out of the house for about two hours—long enough for nearly an entire day to pass inside.
He had stocked up on supplies, prioritizing food before gathering other necessities of lesser importance. Had he been gone too long? Perhaps. But they could manage on their own for a day or two. There was food, water, and all the conveniences of a modern house. They would be fine.
Supplies for eight people weren't easy to transport, so he had hired a cart and a few men to help him haul everything back.
By the time they arrived, the sky had deepened into evening, the air crisp with the promise of night. The men unloaded the last of the goods onto the stone steps, their breath misting in the cold. Vell paid them, nodding in thanks as they hurried off, eager to return to warmth.
Rolling his shoulders, he stretched out the stiffness that had settled in from carrying more than he should have. Then, with a glance at the door, he wondered—would they even notice how long he'd been gone, caught up as they were in their studies?
Pushing inside, he was greeted by the dim glow of candlelight flickering in the hallway.
Inside, the house was quiet. Not silent, but quieter than expected—the only sounds were the faint rustle of pages from the study and the soft clink of a spoon against ceramic from the kitchen.
He followed the latter sound.
The green witch sat at the table, absently stirring a steaming cup of tea. She didn't acknowledge him right away, lost in thought, but when she finally looked up, it was clear that she needed sleep.
"You were gone for a while," she murmured, setting her spoon aside.
Vell placed the first bundle of groceries on the kitchen counter. "A few hours outside—almost a day in here. Not the worst trade-off."
She hummed, her eyes drifting toward the window, though the outside world wasn't truly visible from within these walls. "I suppose not."
Vell extended his palm, conjuring a small, smooth sphere and setting it on the table.
She arched an eyebrow. "What is this?"
"Try it. Trust me, it's nothing gross."
She picked it up, rolling it between her fingers before finally placing it on her tongue.
Warmth spread through her, seeping into her limbs like a steady pulse of energy. The creeping fatigue that had settled into her bones lightened, leaving her strangely refreshed.
Her eyes widened slightly. "What—?"
Vell leaned against the counter, arms crossed. "Condensed mana. Edible, easy to absorb. But I'm curious—how does it taste? I made it, so I can't exactly judge it myself."
She considered for a moment. "It doesn't taste much like anything. Maybe a bit bitter."
"Bitter?"
She nodded. "Not unpleasant, but still. What's the point?"
"I figured after a full day of training, it might help keep you from feeling like you've been wrung dry every time you're done. But I wouldn't want you to eat something bitter, even if it helps." He gestured toward the supplies. "I got fruit, honey, herbs, and spices—I thought I could make it taste better."
She rolled her eyes, but after another moment, admitted, "You might actually be onto something."