Edrum hunkered down between the thin canvas flaps of his tent, shivering in front of the small fire lit before him. It was a cold spring’s morning, the wind howling, sleet flying through the air. He stared at the small bottle sitting above the fire, it’s flames licking at it, warming the luminescent concoction within it.

50 grams of crushed dried Potash Peach, a dash of an ancient potion from a Serthis Alchemist and the tiniest smidgen of the mysterious powder dropped by a wild Wetland unicorn; unicorn dust.

All of these simple ingredients came together to form the most basic part of a soldier’s armory; a basic health potion.

A small plume of smoke started rising from the glass bottle, Edrum leaned over, grabbing the small bottle from amongst the burning flames. He stared at it debating, it’s red glow staring back at him; capturing and entrancing his every being.

He sighed, quickly plugging the bottle before dropping it to the gravel floor beneath him.

This potion was his armor, his defense, his attack, his cure. Without it, his cough would return, his night sweats, the dizziness; his health would fail.

Plagued with a mysterious illness, his life was dependant on a cocktail of different herbs, and the tender care of the clan’s herbalists.

The bitter taste of Deadweed, the insistent doting of those around him.

He hated it.

Time and time again, they told him.

“Time rewards the patient, we'll get there someday”

But soon enough, he had taken his health into his own hands, leaving his clan behind, chasing the rumors of a foreign witch doctor.

A foreign witch doctor who claimed that he had the cure for all ailments.

He traveled all eleven regions, searching high and low. But soon he found himself once again in the Viridian Labyrinth. Welcomed into the home of an elderly centaur, who told him the words he wanted to hear.

“Health potions will heal you.”

Ever since then he had yearned for it, yearned for the soothing feeling of the cool liquid sliding down his throat, yearning for the instant pick me up, the almost instantaneous energy, the cure.

His eyes once again bored into the glass potion, his dark reflection looking back at him. The weak, powerless Edrum or the happy Edrum.

The choice was simple. His heart didn’t waver.

With a quick swipe of his left arm, the potion was once again within his grasp. The now cool glass chilling the tips of his claws.

He slowly rose it to his lips, sniffing in the strong familiar scent. With one sip it was almost gone, with another it was fully gone. Traveling through his body, down his throat, into his stomach, into him.

His hands soon stopped their shaking, invigorated, a small hue glow engulfing himself as he felt the weariness vanish, the ache in his knee ceasing, his urges sated.

Soon enough he'd be able to return home, soon enough he'd be able to live his life how he always wanted.

Happy, healthy, loved.