Gaze Of The Sunken Abyss.

Davon walked out of the storeroom and placed a timbered case atop the counter, “Here is the last batch.”

Rows upon rows of glass flagons were rammed within. So teething with the light and so brimming upon the swirling inebriant that no mortal would dare to partake upon its gulp. Yet, ever so likely, was it merely a swindle or a true masterpiece of the alchemical constructs?

Vincent leaned forward and placed a hand atop the flagons. The black ring resting on his finger quivered and spewed out expressive strings, enshrouding the entire case of wood in its own net of vividness. The ring flashed, and so did the case before it was engulfed inside the small figment of its emporium.

“Fascinating…” Davon gasped. “It puts me in a stupor no matter how much I see you use it.”

“It was gifted to him by my sister,” Gilbert said with pride and crossed his arms.

Vincent looked at the ring and caressed its glossy surface, “Well, I wanted a new one though.”