The darkly lit apothecary was filled with the smell of herbs and oils. Eddie pushed the broom over the hardwood floor, the quiet, rhythmic swish reverberating in the motionless store, a lonely sound in a still universe. The shopfront was bathed in lantern light and a candle's subtle dance on the counter as daylight faded.

Markus had left a while ago, and Lydia had bid her goodbyes hours earlier. Now, it was just Eddie, enveloped in a space that oscillated between a warm embrace and a suffocating silence.

He pushed the broom casually, not noticing the dust and crumbs on the floor. He contemplated the pub conversation. Markus's comments hit hard, unfolding slowly like a dream in the night. 

Eddie never considered it that way. Each syllable of Markus's remarks stabbed deeper and had an unanticipated weight in his thinking. Envy? Disappointment? Markus had always been there, able to laugh off Eddie's mistakes with a grin and a joke. But this? This seemed unlike him.

Since that encounter, Markus's frustrated and vulnerable tone continued to loop in his brain over and over like a broken record. Eddie never realised the impact of his decisions and mistakes on others, leaving traces he never considered. His mind kept thinking about it. Had Markus always been that resentful towards him? Watching him miss opportunities Markus could only dream of?

Eddie came to understand that it was never solely about magic. But of Possibility. Achievement. The sort of future that seemed perpetually out of reach for Markus. And Eddie had allowed it all to slip through his fingers, oblivious to the pain it might inflict on those nearest to him.

He glanced up at the shelves, curious. Dried herbs, tinctures, and little vials line the walls like troops waiting for a command. Everything had unfolded as a result of his father’s influence—his father’s enterprise, his father’s aspirations.

His father.

Eddie wiped his fingers on his face to erase the shadowy feeling. Mr. Welton was always a dreamer. He lived with serene conviction, never questioning his decisions and constantly encouraging him to fulfil his full potential. 

Eddie momentarily rested on the broom, wondering whether it was the bird metaphor should’ve meant. This morning, the Blue Songbird flew. However, his look conveyed an underlying emotion as he watched the bird fly into the sky.

It was as if his father had been waiting for Eddie to notice it, to see it as more than just a simple act of freeing a beloved bird. Perhaps it was a sign. A nudge, as Markus had put it. But what was Eddie supposed to do with it?

He shifted his gaze to the counter. The waning candlelight danced softly upon the grain of the wood. It stretches its elongated shadows across the gleaming surface of the wood. The apothecary was a small, tranquil refuge, yet it had transformed into a prison of his own design, its walls closing in around him.

Eddie saw a shadow as he swept the final shopfront window corner. Under the flickering gas light outside, everything seems odd. Looking up, his breath stopped in his chest

A hooded figure stared at the apothecary in the faint light of the gas lamp. Eddie tightened his grasp on the broom handle and slowed. Their stance was too steady and purposeful.

For a moment, Eddie attempted to ignore his sense of unease. It was late. Maybe a late-night wanderer? Is someone going home? Maybe they were fatigued and lost in thought.

He focused back on the sweeping, but the unease didn’t let up. There was something about the way the figure stood. The way their presence seemed to linger a little too long. Eddie’s eyes flickered back to the shadow beneath the lamplight.

The figure hadn’t moved.

Eddie’s pulse quickened, but he tried to push the feeling away. “Come on, get a grip, god damn it.” he muttered under his breath. He had enough to worry about—his father, the shop, Markus’s comment towards him, his own restless thoughts. But still, the figure remained. Silent and unmoving, casting a long shadow on the cobbled street.

Then, without warning, the figure began to move.

Slowly. Methodically. Each stride towards the shop was deliberate and calculated. Eddie's gut wrenched, heart accelerated. The figure vanished. it approached him directly.

Slowly. Methodically. Each stride towards the shop was deliberate and calculated. Eddie's gut wrenched, heart accelerated. 

Eddie realised the figure was a woman as it approached. Her dark cloak with a deep hood hid her face. He was mainly impressed by her crimson coat below. Red cloth peeping out from black, like a bloodstain in the night.

Stable, quiet footfall emanated from the lady. Her speed never slowed as she approached.

He told himself it was nothing. Just a passerby, maybe someone with a message or inquiry. But the way she moved, the cold air around her, it wasn’t normal. It felt... ominous.

The lady was now at the shop's doorway, a few feet away. Her black cloak flaps in the wind.

The lady raised her brass mahogany staff and tapped it gently against the front glass door. The sound echoed through the quiet shop, deliberate and unhurried—each tap as methodical as her approach.

Eddie hesitated, the broom still in his hand, his body tense, but he forced himself to breathe, to act normal. 

“I’m sorry,” Eddie finally said, his voice polite, though his unease tugged at his words. “We’re closed. We don’t serve customers at this hour.”

The Lady in Red Coat was unfazed. She remained motionless. Her eyes were fixated on Eddie through the glass, the night's shadows hiding her face. But not her frightening glint emerald eyes. Her chin rose slightly. She smiled, as if his reaction delighted her.

“How about an old friend?” she replied.

Her voice was smooth. It laces with an easy familiarity that sent a shiver down Eddie’s spine.

Eddie's heart jumped. An old friend? The words were cryptic. Who the hell is she? Someone from his past? A forgotten friend? Eddie doesn't recognise the figure.

A dozen names and faces sprang to his mind, but none suited the intriguing lady before him. The question made him choke on his breath. Does he know her?

Eddie froze. Her coldness lingered between them as she stared at him. He opened his mouth to speak. He wanted to remind her that it was late and he couldn't serve anybody. His instincts kept him back. Her words had an intangible pull that compelled him to allow her in and embrace it.

A sigh escaped his lips, the resistance fading like a fog lifting. “One more order it is,” He muttered to himself.

He turned the lights back on, lighting the apothecary softly. As he lifted the latch and pulled open the door, the storefront echoed its unlocking.

The Lady in Red Coat entered quietly. The hardwood floor creaked when her boots clicked. She studied the room with her glance without speaking. 

Eddie returned to the reception table. Leaning on the counter, he folded his hands and watched her. She exuded calm authority, like she knew something he didn't. 

Her black, silky cloak trailed after her like a shadow, its edges moving with a subtle charm. Eddie could now see her red coat—bright and brilliant against the dark, flowing softly over her legs and hinting at her exquisite figure—under the cloak. 

Her fingers brushed over a glass jar filled with shimmering blue powder. She touches lightly, testing its weight. She held a few fragile vials of rare tinctures and resins. Eddie noticed her deliberate, slow movements. She seemed in control. Eddie was uneasy about a skilled hand examining the potions and elixirs.

As she stopped by a shelf of dried sage and cinnamon sticks, her eyes flicked toward Eddie for the first time, meeting his gaze directly.

“You run quite an establishment here, Mr Welton,” she said, her voice soft, deep and yet cutting through the silence like a blade.

Eddie swallowed hard, reflexively standing himself, seeing the contrast between her grace and his slouching. The chamber seemed heavy as she approached, the apothecary's soft hum quieting. Her footsteps resonated like a pulse, infusing the air with an inexplicable energy that made it electric.

He stammered, his usual cheer faltering under her gaze. “How can I—”

But before he could finish, she raised a gloved hand, and the gracefulness of her movements struck him. “I have come seeking a matter of great significance,” she remarked elegantly.

“What... what are you looking for?” Eddie managed to ask, his heart racing as a mix of curiosity and apprehension bubbled within him.

The Lady in Red Coat approached, her eyes shining. “I am on a quest for that which is truly remarkable, a treasure that dances just beyond the reach of the mundane..” Her eyes scanned the shelves, examining the various vials and jars. “And I hold a firm belief that it may dwell within your very grasp.”

Her grin expanded, expressing enjoyment, but her eyes remained intense. “It appears I have stumbled upon the perfect place. Robert Welton is indeed a figure of some renown, yet my curiosity extends beyond merely his talents.” She approached, her demeanour changing gently as if she were surrounding a valuable information.

Eddie swallowed hard, feeling the tension in the air tighten like a drawn bowstring. “I—I don’t understand. What is it that you need?” he stammered, trying to keep his composure. The thought of secrets swirling in the depths of her cloaked figure made him uneasy. He could hear the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore, a reminder of the normalcy that felt like a world away.

“Perhaps you will soon,” she replied cryptically. The corners of her lips curled into a smile that sent another chill racing through him. “I find myself in possession of a venture that yearns for the deft hand of a master, and I am convinced that the Alchemist residing within these very walls possesses the skill I seek.”

The tension hung thick in the air as the Lady in the Red Coat continued to observe Eddie, a knowing glint in her eye that made him feel even more on edge. A slow smirk played on her lips as if she was savouring a delicious secret that only she could fully comprehend.

“I would like to place an order,” she proclaimed, her voice flowing with a measured grace. “I seek the fabled Elixir of the illustrious Philosopher’s Stone.”

Eddie’s heart sank at the mention of the fabled elixir. “There’s no such thing as the Elixir of the Philosopher’s Stone.” he stammered, his mind racing to process what she was asking. Even the existence of the Philosopher’s Stone was a long-standing myth, its origins shrouded in ambiguity and legend. “I’m sorry, but we don’t have it,” he said, trying to keep his tone polite but firm.

The Lady drew nearer, her gaze sharpening with a flicker of intrigue, as curiosity stirred within her heart. “Pray tell, what grants you such unwavering confidence in its nonexistence?”

“Because it’s just a myth,” Eddie replied, his voice trembling as uncertainty gnawed at him. “It’s never been proven to exist in any real form.”

“Is that indeed the case?” She pressed forth, her smile broadening.

Eddie nodded, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. He wished he could stand taller, and appear more confident, but her presence felt overwhelming.

Then, without a flicker of gaze averted, the Lady drew nearer still. “Pray, Dost thou know who I verily am?”

Eddie froze, caught off guard by her question. He glanced at the intricate embroidery of her cloak, the vibrant red of her coat, the glimmer of her golden buttons, and the staff she held, which seemed to pulse with an aura of authority. As he took in the details, he felt a shiver run down his spine.

At that moment, everything clicked into place, the pieces of the puzzle coming together in a whirlwind of realisation. “You’re a Master Alchemist.”

As the tension in the air thickened, The Lady in Red Coat reached up and slowly lowered her hood. The dim light of the apothecary illuminated her features. It reveals a familiar face that makes Eddie’s heart skip a beat. Her short, bright red hair framed her face perfectly. Glinting like polished copper in the warm light. High cheekbones accentuated her fair skin, and her striking emerald green eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint.

“Catherine?” he exclaimed, his voice a mix of disbelief and confusion.