Inside of Áine's Apothecary, the air hangs thick with incense smoke and the scents of herbs, flowers, and other oddities. Sunbeams stretch through the window, catching on dust motes swirling through the air and creeping over rows of shelves lined with glass jars and bottles.
Behind the counter toward the back, a wide-mouthed cauldron crouches over a low, popping fire—filled to just below the brim with a viscous blue liquid that hovers at a rolling boil.
At first, you can't find the shop keeper, then you notice a tiny veilspun sitting atop the register. She's busy braiding strands of grass together, but glances up as you approach.
| "Welcome, traveler," she greets. "My name is Áine and this is my Apothecary. Take a look around. Everything on the shelves is for sale." |









