Deep within the Garrison Commander Manor, the distinctly bitter medicinal fragrance of the Apothecary workshop blended with the exotic, fresh scent of herbs, lingering quietly in the slightly dim light.
Ayina was bent over a wooden desk piled high with animal-skin scrolls and jars. Her slender fingers were stained with dark green and ochre-red juices as she carefully ground a sun-dried purple moss into a fine powder.
A look of intense concentration marked her brows, and tiny beads of perspiration dotted the tip of her nose.
Chapter 163