Roman stood completely still near the door and said nothing.
The old man asked again, his voice carrying the patient, unhurried tone of someone who had spent a long time waiting for things and had gotten comfortable with it.
"Nesari? Did you bring the Blossoming Grass?"
Roman looked around the room properly for the first time since he had entered.
It was not a large space, but it was packed. A long wooden table ran along the far wall and covered almost the entire length of it, and on that table sat more bottles, pots, and mixing vessels than Roman had ever seen gathered in one place outside of a proper Alchemist workshop.
Some of the bottles were sealed and labelled in handwriting too small to read from where he stood. Others were open, and from those open ones came a smell that Roman could not fully describe, something between old wood and dried plants and something sharper underneath it all that sat at the back of his throat.
