I tried not to think of the day’s events too much as I opened the door.

The light coming in from the three tall windows at the far side of the room blinded me, making me shield my eyes. The loud noise of people talking over one another erupted, as the sound of something boiling and the smell of burnt rubber, then flowers, and sweet cinnamon flooded my nose. As my eyesight began to reign itself in, I could see distinct forms of people wearing white scarves like me moving around in a frenzy. Carrying bottled liquids, fizzing and seemingly emitting its own light, and yellowed scrolls that looked like they’d tear any moment. But slowly the noise died down as my eyes finally adjusted to the light, and all I saw before me was a crowd of around fifty people staring at me, wide-eyed in disbelief.

For a moment, there was only silence.

“It’s you,” a person from the crowd spoke, a young man with dark skin and tight coiled hair, a tuff of it showing from his white scarf. His words were a catalyst for the whispers that began to travel from person to person. As I stood there, unbearably uncomfortable with all the attention, all the eyes – three people stood distinct.

The person who had tended to me, Avery, stood to the far right with gentle, reassuring smile. Her thinly veiled concern was evident, probably because she noticed how uncomfortable I was. At the center of the room was a young woman with glacier-blue eyes, olive skin, and long dark green hair. She seemed to be a leader of a clique of some sort, her friends all around her whispering at each other and at her – but she didn’t respond. She just trained her eyes on me. She had a confused almost frustrated stare.

And at the second level stood the last person. A lone figure, his white hair and porcelain skin glowing bright in the light, almost translucent like white paper. He had his hands tucked behind his back, and you could tell from where he stood and his posture that he was the authority figure in the room. His pale blue eyes peered at me from above, and although he exuded authority – he didn’t seem unkind, not with that smile on his face.

“How long we have waited for you, Miss Lavy,” he smiled enigmatically, “Welcome to The Alchemist’s Apple.”