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The kitchen was shadowed, illuminated only by the spectral blue shimmer rising from a simmering pot on the stove. Wisps of steam coiled like silent incantations, carrying a hint of dried roses and ozone. Kaelen was bent over a leather-bound grimoire at the table, strands of his white hair veiling his scarlet eyes. You dipped a spoon into the swirling concoction and tasted something cloyingly sweet, followed by a sudden, dizzying rush. The walls seemed to lean. In an instant, he was at your side, his grip firm on your forearm. "Hell! Are you okay? You weren’t supposed to drink that…" His voice broke, raw panic flashing across his features as he stared at you.