Lucia’s laboratory was the same as always. The familiar scent of fermented grapes and oak barrels washed over Clive as he pushed through the door. The small bell above announced his arrival.

  Lucia stood behind the counter, carefully measuring wine into a glass decanter.

  "Be with you in a moment," she said without looking up. Then she froze mid-pour. The decanter clinked against the counter as she set it down. ‘Oh it’s you, Clive."

  "Hello, Lucia."

  She set down the decanter. "It’s been forever since you came. I was starting to think you'd forgotten the way here."

  "The guild's kept me busy. And the reconstruction."

  "Of course." She moved a few bottles unnecessarily, rearranging them on the shelf behind her. "So what brings you by? Finally want to continue your potions education?"

  "I'm leaving Marblehaven."

  The bottle she'd been holding slipped. She caught it before it fell. "Why? Did something happen? You've built so much here. The guild, your students. I thought you were happy."

  "I am. This place..." Clive glanced around the laboratory. It was here that he learnt to distinguish the scent of nutmeg and vanilla. It was here that Lucia had patiently taught him the alchemical foundations of potion-making. "I have fond memories here. Of Marblehaven. Of working with you."

  "Then why? The Grand General? Is he forcing you?" Her voice rose and she swiftly retrieved her throwing knives from her belt. “I’ll stop him. I don't care what rank he holds, he has no right to forcibly conscript people. I’ll march up to that estate right now and—.”

  "Lucia." Clive held up a hand. A warm, fuzzy feeling settled in his chest as he watched her prepare to storm the Grand General’s headquarters on his behalf. How many people in his life, in either life, would’ve done that? There was only one other.

  "No. It's not like that." Clive met her eyes. "I need to find someone. My... someone I lost. From before."

  Lucia's expression softened, and she lowered her knives. "Someone?"

  "Her name is Jill. We were together. In my old life. Before I came here."

  "You never mentioned her."

  "I didn't know how to. Or if I should. I once made a choice… And she left. I thought that was the end of it. That she was lost to me forever. But now…"

  Clive stopped himself. The words wouldn't come. That, after all this time, all this distance, he might actually see Jill again. That the impossible might be possible.

  Lucia remain silent beside him, waiting.

  Clive composed himself. “Now there’s a lead. The Moon Mother. There's a chance… A slim one, maybe even a foolish one, but there’s a chance it could be her. The Grand General is leading an expedition to find her, and I need to be a part of it.”

  "She must have been important to you."

  "She was everything. When I had nothing, she stayed. We were broke. Living in a cramped apartment, eating ramen most nights. She was always there for me. So, I need to go. To find out if it's truly her. If there’s even a slight chance—”

  Arms wrapped around him before he could finish. Lucia pulled him into a friendly hug.

  "I understand. Family is always the most important." She released him and faced Clive with determined eyes. "But I'm coming with you."

  "What? Lucia, no. You don't have to—"

  "I know I don't have to. But I'm coming anyway."

  "It'll be dangerous."

  "I'm aware." She crossed her arms. "You helped me restore my family, Clive. My mother would still be stone if it wasn't for you. You risked your life in the Shadowfen, faced down creatures that could have killed you, all to help someone you barely knew. You brought my family back. The least I can do is help you find yours."

  "That's different. I had skills that were useful for the Shadowfen. You're an alchemist, not a soldier."

  "And you think an alchemist won't be useful on a military expedition?" Lucia's eyebrow arched. "Who do you think will be keeping everyone alive when they're poisoned, diseased, or bleeding out? The soldiers?" She moved to her shelves, already pulling down bottles and vials. "Besides, someone needs to make sure you don't do something stupidly heroic and get yourself killed before you even find her."

  "Lucia—"

  "My mind's made up, Clive." She glanced back at him over her shoulder. "You can argue if you want, but I'm already packing."

  Clive watched her move between shelves, pulling down vials and sorting through dried herbs. Part of him wanted to keep protesting, to list all the reasons this was a terrible idea. But another part—the part that had been dreading this journey alone, dreading what he might find—felt something loosen in his chest.

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  "Three days," he said finally. "We leave in three days."

  Lucia paused, a bundle of bandages in her hands. A smile flickered across her face. "Three days. That's enough time." She set the bandages on the counter and turned to face him properly. "I'll need to arrange things here. Make sure the shop doesn't fall apart while I'm gone." Her expression grew more serious. "And I'll need to tell my family."

  "How do you think they'll react?"

  "Mother will worry. Father will try to talk me out of it." She shrugged. "But they'll understand. After everything we've been through, they know I can't just stand by when someone needs help."

  Clive nodded slowly. "Thank you, Lucia. I mean it."

  "Don't thank me yet. Save it for when we actually find her."

  Three days passed in a blur of preparations and farewells. The guild's send-off dinner at the Brass Griffin had stretched late into the night, filled with toasts and promises to return. Clive had spent his remaining time checking and rechecking his supplies, and trying not to think too hard about what lay ahead.

  Now dawn light filtered through Marblehaven's eastern gates. The royal army stood in formation. Over two hundred soldiers in the cold morning air. Supply wagons lined the road, and mounted officers directed final preparations.

  Clive and Lucia approached the gates together.

  Louis stood near the lead wagon, conferring with Prince Sion and several officers. He looked up as they approached, his expression sharpening when he noticed Lucia.

  "Clive." His gaze shifted to Lucia, then back to Clive. "You brought someone along?"

  "This is Lucia Thornwald. Alchemist and apothecary.”

  "An alchemist?” Louis remained unconvinced. “We already have military medics."

  “She'll be useful. I vouch for her."

  "Vouching is easy. Words are cheap." Louis reached into his coat and produced a small vial filled with crimson liquid. He held it out to Lucia. "If you claim to be a skilled alchemist, prove it. Identify this potion."

  Lucia took the vial without hesitation. She uncorked it and held it beneath her nose. Then she took the smallest sip, rolling it across her tongue before swallowing.

  The gathered officers watched in silence.

  "Well-crafted healing potion," Lucia said. Ultimate grade, given the density of etheric essences. The color saturation and mouthfeel confirm high-quality base ingredients." She took another sniff. "But the tannin profile is sharper than standard production methods. More astringent on the finish."

  Louis's expression didn't change. "And?"

  "House Lafite." Lucia handed the vial back. "They use a longer fermentation process than the usual production by House Romanee-Conti. It sacrifices some immediate potency in exchange for an extended regeneration effect. The healing happens over thirty seconds instead of fifteen, but you get better sustained tissue repair. Better for deep wounds, worse for acute trauma."

  Several officers exchanged glances.

  Louis tucked the vial back into his coat. He nodded once. "Very well, Miss Thornwald. You may join the expedition."

  "Thank you, Grand General."

  "Don't thank me yet. You follow orders like everyone else. This isn't a research expedition where you can wander off to collect specimens. When we march, you march. When we stop, you stop. When I say retreat, you retreat. Clear?"

  "Perfectly clear, Grand General."

  "Lucia!"

  The shout came from behind them. Clive turned to see a small crowd approaching—Markus leading the guild members, and behind them, Lucia's family. Her mother, Lydia, long with Lord Thornwald, who looked distinctly unhappy.

  "You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye, were you?" Markus called out, slightly breathless.

  "I said my goodbyes at the shop," Lucia protested, but her voice had softened. “You know, I’ll be back.”

  "Those weren't proper goodbyes." Lydia reached her daughter first, pulling her into an embrace. "Those were 'see you later' at best."

  Lord Thornwald cleared his throat. "Lucia. I still think this is rash."

  "I know, Father."

  "You could have taken more time to prepare. Hired proper guards—"

  "Clive is proper guard. And I can take care of myself." She pulled back from her mother, facing her father squarely. "We've had this conversation."

  "And I maintain my position." But his expression softened slightly. He reached into his coat and withdrew a small leather pouch. The clink of coins was unmistakable. "Nevertheless. Take this. Emergency funds."

  "Father, I have—"

  "Take it." His voice was firm. "Your mother would never forgive me if I let you leave without adequate resources."

  Lucia accepted the pouch, tucking it into her pack. "Thank you."

  Her mother thrust a wrapped package into her hands. "This too."

  Lucia unwrapped the cloth to reveal a thick traveling cloak, with the Thornwald family crest embroidered at the collar.

  "In case it gets cold," Lydia said. "And so you remember we're waiting for you."

  Lucia's composure cracked slightly. She clutched the cloak, blinking rapidly. "I'll come back. I promise."

  The guardsman Jerome approached. "Lady Thornwald. I thought you were done heading out the gates after that business in the Shadowfen."

  Lucia managed a smile, wrapping the new cloak around her shoulders. "I thought so too, Jerome. But apparently there's always one last adventure."

  "Last one?" Jerome's expression turned skeptical. "Somehow I doubt that. You and trouble seem well acquainted."

  "She's not the only one," Markus interjected, grinning at Clive. "Our illustrious guild master here has a talent for finding dangerous situations."

  "Former guild master," Clive corrected automatically.

  "Acting guild master," Markus shot back. "The position's still yours when you return. We're just keeping it warm."

  A whistle cut through the morning air. Louis stood near the lead wagon, hand raised. "We move out in five minutes! Final preparations!"

  The moment crystallized. Lucia hugged her mother one more time, exchanged quiet words with her father, ruffled her brother's hair despite his protests. The guild members crowded around Clive, offering handshakes and backslaps and promises to have new works ready when he returned.

  Lydia caught Clive's arm as he turned to leave. "Take care of her. She's stubborn and brave and has a terrible habit of putting others before herself."

  "I will," Clive promised. "I'll bring her back."

  "See that you do." Lydia released his arm. "And Clive? Take care of yourself too. You're also someone people are waiting for."

  The horn sounded again. Soldiers began moving into marching formation. Clive and Lucia shouldered their packs and joined the column.

  As they passed through Marblehaven's gates, Clive looked back one last time.

  The city sprawled behind them, still bearing the scars of the Vandiel attack. Scaffolding clung to half-rebuilt structures. Construction crews worked on damaged walls. Entire districts remained cordoned off, waiting for repairs.

  A notification flickered at the edge of his vision:

  [Marblehaven Reconstruction Progress: 62%]

  [City Level: 6/10]

  [Estimated completion: 4-6 months]

  He'd pushed hard these past weeks. But he ran out of time. The quest to bring Marblehaven to level eight remained unfinished.

  The notification faded. Clive's hand tightened on his pack strap.

  I'll come back, he thought, the words settling into certainty. I'll finish what I started.

  Then the road curved, and the city walls blocked his view.

  Beside him, Lucia adjusted her new cloak and faced forward.

  The expedition marched north, and Marblehaven disappeared behind them.

  Every journey requires a door closed behind you, and the courage to walk forward despite the sound of its closing

  —The Legendary Moonlight Artist