The library's long table had transformed into an alchemy laboratory.
However, what we sought was not gold, but a memory.
"Wild coffee beans, fresh cow's milk, sugarcane stalks," I muttered, taking attendance of the ingredients laid out on the table.
Elyra sat across from me, looking mildly entertained. "Are you certain you want to mix all of this?"
"Yes."
Using her wind magic, Elyra pulverized the roasted beans into dust and dehydrated the milk into a fine powder. I mixed them with sugar—not by weight, but by the muscle memory of exhaustion.
Two spoons of black coffee powder. Three spoons of milk creamer powder. Two and a half spoons of sugar.
"Hot water," I requested.
I brewed the concoction. It wasn't the fresh coffee scent of a high-end cafe. It was the scent of a sachet. A comforting, artificial aroma. The smell of an office breakroom. I added a pinch of salt to mimic preservatives.
"Perfect," I whispered. "It tastes cheap. It tastes like home."
I pushed the cup toward Elyra. "Try it. This is called 3-in-1 Instant Coffee."
Elyra stared at the murky liquid, then took a slow sip. Her eyes widened. "It is sweet... But there is a charred taste. And the milk feels thick." She paused. "Is this the taste of your world, Azisa?"
"It's the taste of exhaustion in my world," I corrected. "A flavor we drink so we can keep working, even when our bodies want to stop."
Elyra smiled faintly. "I like it."
She took another sip, a larger one this time. "Teach me," she said suddenly.
"Human language?"
"No." She pointed at my chest. "Teach me how to feel 'alive' within a fleeting span of time."
I let out a small, hoarse laugh. "I'm still looking for that myself, Elyra."
"Then... we will search for it together. Here. Now."
She took my notebook. Beneath our written names, she drew a simple circle.
"In the ancient Elven tongue," she whispered, looking straight into my eyes, "this circle means 'Moment'. Something that has no beginning and no end, yet remains finite. Like tonight."
She took another sip. A trace of milk remained at the corner of her lips.
Without thinking, I reached out. My thumb brushed the corner of her lips, wiping the stain away.
Elyra froze. The seconds stopped. The world outside the window vanished. There was only the texture of her skin against my thumb and her widened golden gaze.
I should have pulled my hand back. I should have apologized. But I didn't. And she didn't pull away. She closed her eyes slowly, savoring the rough, calloused touch.
"Azisa..." Her voice was barely audible.
"Yes."
"Do not die too quickly."
The words were not a plea. They were a command.
I slowly withdrew my hand, the warmth of her skin lingering on my fingertips like a burn.
"I'll try," I answered.