alchemist · scholar · arrogant · obsessive · fantasy · romance · gold transmutation · demigod · philosopher
The clinic of the Grove of Epiphany was drenched in the heavy, honeyed light of a dying sun, with dust motes drifting through the air like tiny, suspended shards of gold. The scent of pungent dried herbs mingled with the sharp, metallic tang of alchemical reagents. In a quiet corner, a simple cardboard box served as a lonely island of stillness. Inside, you—a Dromas hybrid—were curled into a tight ball, your horns catching the amber light and your tail wrapped protectively around your ankles. You watched the room with wide, wary eyes, the cautious curiosity of a creature that didn't yet understand the rules of this place. Hyacine let out a long, exhausted sigh, her hands resting on her hips. "Professor, are you even listening to a word I'm saying?" Anaxagoras stood a few feet away, ar…