organizing & practice

The golden light of dawn slowly spilled over the horizon, casting a warm glow through the small gaps in the wooden shutters of Argolaith's cabin. 

The sound of birds chirping in the distance and the rustling of leaves in the wind filtered through the air, signaling the start of another day. 

Argolaith slowly woke from his slumber, stretching his arms above his head, feeling the muscles in his back pull and tense. 

It was a satisfying feeling, a reminder of all the training and effort he had put into strengthening his body. 

A body that was now not just physically strong, but attuned to the magical energies that pulsed through the world around him.

He rubbed his eyes and let out a slow yawn, his mind still half-lost in the remnants of sleep. 

It had been a busy few days, and he had barely had time to sit still for long. But today, he decided, would be different. 

Today would be a day of organizing, of preparing himself for the next phase of his journey. 

There was work to do, and he wanted everything to be in its right place before he ventured out again.

After taking a few moments to gather his thoughts, Argolaith stood from his bed and made his way over to the small fire pit that sat in the center of the cabin. 

The fire was still glowing faintly from the night before, and with a few swift movements, he stoked the coals, coaxing them back to life. 

Soon, the cabin was filled with the warmth of the fire, and Argolaith set about preparing a simple breakfast.

He cracked a few eggs into a pan, watching as the yolks sizzled in the heat. The smell of eggs cooking in the morning air was comforting, familiar. 

As the eggs cooked, he reached into the storage ring he wore on his finger and pulled out a few strips of strange creature bacon. 

He wasn't entirely sure what creature it came from, but it had been one of the many odd and dangerous beasts he'd encountered in his travels. It had 6 eyes, no legs, and 7 sets of wings. 

The bacon, however, was delicious, with a rich, smoky flavor that contrasted the eggs perfectly.

As he sat down at the small wooden table, his meal in front of him, Argolaith's mind drifted to the task ahead. 

He had been planning this day for a while—organizing the shed and preparing for the next phase of his journey. 

He had gathered enough supplies from his travels, enough knowledge from the books he'd stolen from Athos's lab, and enough magical herbs to experiment with. 

Now it was time to put everything in its place.

"How should I arrange everything?" he muttered to himself, picking up a forkful of eggs and chewing thoughtfully. 

"I suppose I'll just organize it the best I can. No need for anything too fancy. Just… functional."

Once his meal was finished, Argolaith set about the task with determination. The shed, a small structure he had constructed from stone and wood, was located just behind the cabin. 

A place of creation. He had been using it for weeks now, but today he wanted to give it the care and attention it deserved.

He began by sorting through the magical herbs he had collected. 

Some were vibrant and colorful, with petals that shimmered like gemstones. 

While others were dull and unassuming, as if their power was hidden beneath their lackluster appearance. 

He arranged them carefully on the shelves, placing the glowing herbs in one section, and the more mundane ones in another. 

There were also jars filled with strange liquids—essences from beasts he had slain and plants he had harvested during his time in the Forgotten Forest. 

Some of the liquids bubbled and swirled within their containers, as if they had a life of their own, while others were still, dark, and brooding.

Argolaith paused to admire the shelves he had set up, each one organized neatly, each herb and vial of potion placed where it belonged. 

He felt a sense of satisfaction at the sight of the neatly arranged items, as though everything was in its proper place, ready for whatever came next. 

It was a good feeling, one that gave him a sense of control over his environment. He had always felt out of place in the world, always been the outsider. But now, in this small shed, he felt a sense of purpose, a sense of belonging.

He turned his attention to the books he had taken from Athos's lab. 

They were ancient, their pages thick and brittle, their covers worn from years of use. He had only skimmed their contents so far, but he knew they held valuable knowledge. 

Books on alchemy, rune-smithing, and magical theory were scattered across the table, their pages filled with diagrams and notes in languages Argolaith could barely understand. 

But that didn't stop him. He was determined to learn, to decipher the mysteries hidden within their pages.

As he placed the books on the central table, his gaze shifted to the tools that hung on the wall—hammers, chisels, knives, and more. 

Each tool had been crafted for a specific purpose, and they gleamed in the dim light of the shed, their edges sharp and ready for use. 

Argolaith took a moment to admire them, running his fingers over the handles, feeling the weight of each one in his hand. 

They had been crafted with care, and now they were his to wield. He hung each tool on its designated hook, making sure everything was in its proper place. 

A sense of order was important to him, as it allowed him to focus on the task at hand without being distracted by unnecessary clutter.

When everything was in place, Argolaith stepped back, surveying the shed with satisfaction. 

The room was now organized, a sanctuary for both work and rest. It was more than just a storage space—it was his laboratory, his forge, his place of creation. 

He could feel the energy of the space, the magic that lingered in the air, waiting to be shaped into something new. It was a place of potential, a place where he could experiment and push the boundaries of what he knew.

"Now, let's see what I can create," Argolaith murmured, his fingers brushing over the cauldron sitting on the table. 

It was an old iron vessel, weathered by time, but it was sturdy and reliable. He had used it a few times before, and it had served him well. Today, he would test his newfound knowledge and see what he could accomplish.

He chose a few of the glowing herbs from the shelf, along with a vial of water infused with magical energy, and placed them on the table beside the cauldron. 

Carefully, he lit a small fire beneath the pot, the flames flickering to life with a soft crackle. 

As the cauldron heated up, he added the ingredients, watching as they began to bubble and swirl together. The herbs released their aroma, a sweet, herbal fragrance that filled the room and made Argolaith's mouth water in anticipation.

The potion began to glow with a soft golden light, swirling and shifting in color as it was infused with the magical energies of the ingredients. Argolaith stirred the mixture slowly, his eyes never leaving the cauldron. He had done this a few times before, but each new potion was still a mystery, a puzzle waiting to be solved.

"Almost there," he muttered, watching the potion carefully as its color deepened into a rich amber. "This should enhance physical strength. Perfect for fieldwork, or combat… or just a good boost for a long day."

When the potion was ready, Argolaith carefully poured it into a small glass vial. The liquid inside shimmered and glowed faintly, its effects potent and ready to be harnessed. He held the vial up to the light, admiring the delicate glow. 

It was a simple concoction, but it felt like a small victory. Each successful potion brought him closer to mastering the arts of alchemy and rune-smithing.

"Success," he said with a grin, placing the vial on the shelf alongside his other supplies. "Another step forward."

The rest of the day passed in a blur of experimentation and discovery. Argolaith tried his hand at more potions, refining his techniques and learning from each failure and success. 

He was lost in his work, and it was a satisfying feeling—a feeling that he was no longer just a wanderer in the world, but a creator, a craftsman in his own right.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm orange hue across the sky, Argolaith stepped outside the shed and sat on the wooden steps of his cabin. 

He looked out over the vast expanse of the forest, his eyes tracing the treetops that swayed gently in the evening breeze. The day had been exhausting, but it had been rewarding. He had made progress, and he had learned something new.

"This is just the beginning," he said softly to himself. His voice carried through the silence of the evening, but there was no one to hear it but the wind. 

"There's so much more to learn, so much more to do. But for now, I'll take it one step at a time."

He sat there for a while, the cool evening air brushing against his skin, his mind already turning to the next challenge. The world was full of mysteries, full of untapped potential. And Argolaith was determined to uncover them all.

As the night settled in, he rose from the steps and made his way inside, ready to rest. Tomorrow would be another day of discovery, another day of learning. And Argolaith would be ready.

With a final glance at the shed, he closed the door behind him and drifted off to sleep, the promise of a new day awaiting him.