Chapter 86: Meeting Orion

The sun hung low on the horizon as Alaric and Rosalind’s horse trotted through the wide dirt road leading toward the main branch of the Silver Ravens Guild.

After three days of travel, filled with teasing touches, soft kisses, and moments where Alaric simply relished in Rosalind’s soft warmth, they finally caught sight of their destination.

The guild’s branch loomed ahead—a towering structure of gray stone and intricate carvings, its massive crest emblazoned on the gates.

Rosalind, seated in front of Alaric on their shared horse, leaned back against him with a content sigh. “Finally here,” she murmured, her voice soft yet laced with a quiet determination.

Alaric smiled faintly, his arms still comfortably looped around her waist. “About time. I was beginning to think this horse would fall apart before we got here.”

Rosalind laughed, a sweet sound that echoed against the walls of the guild as they approached. “You’re one to talk. I’m the one who’s had to keep us on course while you spent half the journey… distracted.” She glanced back, a teasing glint in her emerald eyes.

“Can you blame me?” Alaric grinned, tightening his grip on her slightly. “You’re hard to ignore.”

She blushed faintly but didn’t respond, simply nudging the horse forward as they passed through the massive gates and into the main courtyard.

The Silver Ravens Guild’s central branch was bustling with activity—warriors sparring, mages trading spells, merchants haggling loudly.

Compared to the smaller branch they’d left behind, this place felt like a sprawling city within a city.

The pair dismounted near the stables, and Alaric stretched lazily before offering Rosalind a hand to step down. She accepted with a faint smile, her fingers lingering against his for a moment longer than necessary.

“Alright,” Rosalind said as she straightened her crimson cloak. “Orion should be in the alchemist’s wing. He’s a bit… eccentric, but he’s the best there is.”

’Eccentric? I’ll take that as a warning,’ Alaric thought with an inward sigh as he followed Rosalind into the main building.

The alchemist’s wing was situated on the far end of the guild, nestled in a quieter section of the sprawling fortress.

As they stepped through the heavy oaken doors, the scent of herbs, potions, and scorched metal hit Alaric’s senses all at once.

Shelves upon shelves lined the walls, packed with glass vials and powders in shades he didn’t know existed.

A few apprentices scurried about, carrying trays of glowing liquids that sloshed precariously with every step.

And there, at the center of the room, stood Orion.

Alaric’s first impression was that the man looked exactly as one might expect of an alchemist who had far too much confidence in himself.

He was tall and lean, with sharp features that might’ve been handsome if not for the permanent smirk etched across his lips. His hair, platinum blond and carefully styled, seemed to shine under the soft glow of alchemical lamps.

A deep-blue coat embroidered with gold hugged his slender frame, and his long, gloved fingers adjusted the lenses of his spectacles as he bent over a bubbling cauldron.

“Orion,” Rosalind called softly, breaking the hum of activity in the room.

The alchemist looked up immediately, his arrogant smirk widening into something more delighted as he saw Rosalind. His eyes, sharp and blue, lit up in a way that made Alaric’s brow twitch.

“Rosalind! My dear, what a pleasant surprise,” Orion purred, stepping away from his work as though the cauldron meant nothing to him now. His gaze lingered on her—perhaps a little too long—before flickering toward Alaric with a flash of disdain. “And you… must be Alaric, I presume?”

“That’s me,” Alaric said smoothly, offering a polite nod. “It’s good to meet you, Orion. I’ve heard you’re the best alchemist in the guild.”

Orion chuckled, brushing a speck of dust off his pristine coat. “The best?” he echoed, his tone dripping with faux modesty. “Well, they do say that. But flattery will only get you so far, my boy. Now, what brings you two to my humble workshop?”

Rosalind stepped forward. “We need your help, Orion. It’s urgent. We need a Mystic Rejuvenation Elixir. For Iridelle.”

At that, Orion’s smirk faltered slightly, though he quickly masked it with an exaggerated sigh. “A Mystic Rejuvenation Elixir?” he repeated, rubbing his chin dramatically. “Hmmm, that is… quite the request. You realize how complex such a potion is to concoct, don’t you?”

Alaric narrowed his eyes slightly. ’Here it comes.’

“Of course we know,” Rosalind replied firmly. “But you’re the only one who can do it.”

Orion shook his head, adopting a pained expression as though he were being asked to move mountains. “I would love to help you, Rosalind, truly. But there are… complications. First of all, the Mystic Rejuvenation Elixir requires rare ingredients—ingredients I do not have. And even if I did, the preparation process itself requires precise conditions that are nearly impossible to achieve without weeks of preparation. Not to mention—”

’This guy’s full of it,’ Alaric thought, watching Orion with sharp eyes. He could see the cracks in the man’s performance. Orion had no intention of making the elixir; that much was obvious. He was stalling, throwing up excuse after excuse so he wouldn’t have to say ’no’ outright. And yet, every time he spoke, his gaze drifted back to Rosalind—as though trying to impress her with his importance.

“I understand, Orion,” Alaric said suddenly, cutting off the alchemist’s rambling. “You don’t have the ingredients. You’re not prepared. It’s too complex. I get it.”

Orion blinked, slightly thrown off. “Well, yes… exactly,” he said smugly. “I’m glad you understand. It’s not a matter of ability, you see—it’s simply… impractical.”

Alaric smiled faintly, though his eyes glinted with something sharper. “Good. Then we’ll make it practical.”

Orion frowned. “What?”

“You’re not prepared? I’ll handle that. You don’t have the ingredients? I’ll get them.” Alaric’s tone was smooth but firm, leaving no room for argument. “All I need you to do is be ready to brew the elixir when I bring everything you need.”

Orion opened his mouth, clearly trying to think of a response, but Alaric didn’t give him the chance.

“Come on, Rosalind,” Alaric said, turning on his heel and taking her by the hand. “We’ve got work to do.”

Rosalind blinked in surprise, but a slow smile spread across her lips as she let him lead her away. Orion watched them go, his expression a mix of irritation and disbelief.

’What just happened?’ Orion thought, his jaw clenching as he watched Alaric disappear through the door. The way Rosalind had smiled at him—at him—made Orion’s blood boil. Who did that upstart think he was?

Meanwhile, Alaric smirked to himself as he walked beside Rosalind. ’You’re not getting out of this that easily, Orion. I’ll play your game… and I’ll win.’

~~

Alaric’s morning started with a fiery determination. After all, Orion’s smug expression the day before had left him more motivated than ever to get this elixir prepared. He wasn’t about to let someone like Orion—arrogant and jealous—stand in his way, not when he had Rosalind by his side to support him.

“Rosalind,” Alaric said, his voice smooth and confident, as he approached her while she adjusted her leather gloves. The morning light filtering through the small window only made her features glow more enchantingly. “We’re going to the market today. I’m buying up every single ingredient I can find for the Mystic Rejuvenation Elixir.”

Rosalind tilted her head, giving him a teasing smile. “Oh? I suppose that means you’ll need me to guide you through every stall like a dutiful lover?”

“Exactly,” Alaric replied, smirking. “And, you’ll also need to endure me holding onto you the entire time. You know… just to make sure I don’t lose my way.”

She rolled her eyes playfully. “You’re impossible.”

The streets of the market were as bustling as ever. Merchants shouted about their wares, and the sharp aroma of spices, oils, and herbs permeated the air. People milled about, some haggling loudly while others chatted as they browsed. But for Alaric, the chaos didn’t matter. His eyes were focused on the job at hand: finding every herb and ingredient necessary for the elixir.

What did matter, though, was that Rosalind walked beside him, her slender waist practically inviting his touch. And Alaric, being Alaric, didn’t miss the opportunity.

As they stepped toward a particularly crowded stall filled with alchemical herbs, Alaric’s hand found its place on Rosalind’s hip, guiding her slightly ahead of him. She shot him a look, her cheeks slightly flushed, but didn’t pull away.

“What are you doing?” she muttered under her breath as they stopped by the merchant’s table.

“Making sure you don’t wander off,” Alaric replied smoothly, his fingers gently tracing the curve of her waist before sliding away. “It’s easy to lose someone in this crowd, you know.”

Rosalind shook her head with a soft chuckle, but Alaric caught the small, pleased smile on her lips.

The merchant, an older man with wiry spectacles and hands stained green from years of handling herbs, barely noticed the pair’s flirting. “You’re lucky, young man. These ingredients are freshly stocked from yesterday’s shipment.” He began rattling off the names of various herbs: skyroot stems, moon petal flowers, phoenix moss, and other basic components that Alaric needed.

One by one, Alaric listed the items they required, purchasing everything in bulk. He handed over gold coins like they were pebbles, determined not to waste any time.

When the merchant packed up the last of the bundles, Rosalind leaned close and whispered, “You’re really spending a fortune here, you know.”

Alaric turned to her, his eyes glinting. “It’s worth it. I’m not going to let Orion have the satisfaction of thinking we can’t get this done.”

With their bags growing heavier, they visited several more stalls. The routine was the same—Alaric would negotiate briefly, purchase what he needed, and keep his hands on Rosalind whenever the opportunity presented itself.

At one particularly quiet stall, hidden between two larger ones, Alaric pulled Rosalind close while the vendor turned around to fetch some thorned cypress bark. “This is exhausting,” he whispered, brushing his lips against her neck.

Rosalind stiffened slightly but melted almost immediately as his kiss lingered at the edge of her collarbone. “Alaric… stop,” she murmured, though her voice lacked conviction.

“No one’s looking,” he teased before leaving another soft kiss just above her cleavage, which peeked through her traveling outfit. The warmth of her skin against his lips left a delightful spark.

“Focus!” Rosalind finally swatted his arm, though her laugh betrayed her enjoyment. “We have work to do.”

By midday, they’d collected 69 out of the 79 herbs required. Most of the ingredients were fairly common—plants like crimson sage, frostbloom berries, and spiritroot were easily found in the market. But when they cross-checked their list, Rosalind frowned.

“These last ten herbs…” she began, tapping the parchment. “They aren’t things you just find lying around. Silverheart blossoms grow only near molten rock. Elderstorm moss needs to be gathered from caves infested with dire bats. And don’t get me started on the azure thorn lilies… those are found near wyvern nests.”

Alaric sighed but straightened, his resolve unwavering. “Then we go get them. All of them.”

Rosalind looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “Today? You’re serious?”

“Of course,” Alaric replied confidently. He took her hand and led her toward the stables. “There’s no point waiting around. Orion’s already stalling us. The sooner we collect these herbs, the sooner we can shove that elixir in his face.”

Rosalind gave him a dubious look but followed him anyway. “You just enjoy showing off, don’t you?”

He shot her a grin. “Always.”

The two of them rode together on the same horse—just as they had many times before—but this time, Alaric wasn’t holding back.

With Rosalind sitting snugly in front of him, her back pressed against his chest, Alaric let his arms wrap securely around her waist. “Hold on tight,” he murmured as he whispered an incantation under his breath. A faint silver glow surrounded the horse’s legs as its muscles tensed with newfound energy.

In a flash, they were off.

The horse galloped through the dirt roads with incredible speed, its hooves barely seeming to touch the ground. Trees and hills blurred past as Alaric directed them toward the first location on their list—a series of rocky cliffs known to house molten streams where Silverheart blossoms grew.

As they rode, Rosalind turned slightly to glance at him. “You know, this is incredibly reckless. There are dangerous beasts in these habitats.”

“Reckless is my specialty,” Alaric replied, smirking as the wind whipped past them. “Besides, I have you with me.”

Rosalind shook her head with an exasperated smile but leaned back slightly against him, clearly trusting his judgment.

The habitats they’d need to visit were notorious among adventurers:

The Molten Cliffs, where magma-spewing salamanders guarded the rare Silverheart blossoms.

The Elderstorm Caverns, dark and perilous, home to swarms of dire bats and eerie creatures lurking in the shadows.

The Wyvern Hills, a sprawling valley dotted with thorny azure lilies and prowled by territorial wyverns.

And those were just the first few stops. Each location promised danger, but Alaric’s determination burned brighter than ever.

“Let’s get this done,” he said, his eyes glinting as the cliffs came into view on the horizon.

Rosalind nodded, her fingers tightening on the reins. “Lead the way, Alaric.”

With their horse charging toward the first destination, Alaric couldn’t help but smirk to himself. ’Orion, you’re about to eat your words.’

Today wasn’t just about collecting herbs—it was about proving a point. And if he got to enjoy Rosalind’s company along the way, well, that was just a bonus.