07

7.

The woman in the dark veil stood before the altar in the dimly lit cave, chanting incantations under her breath. Her hands moved deftly over the various jars, mixing the ingredients for the potion she was making. The scent of herbs and spices filled the air, and the light of the candles flickered on the walls.

As she worked, she muttered to herself in a language that was ancient and arcane, and seemed to come from a time long forgotten. Her movements were slow and deliberate, as if she were performing a sacred dance.

Suddenly, the woman paused in her chanting, and looked up as if she had sensed something. She turned her head slightly, listening intently to the silence of the cave. After a moment, she shook her head, and returned to her work.

The potion she was making was for a very specific purpose, and it required a delicate touch. She had to get the proportions of the various ingredients just right, or the potion would be ineffective. But the woman was skilled in the ways of magi