… Is Me, Seraphina! - I
"Venna, you've been without sleep for six days now."
Ansel, lounging on the sofa with one hand propping up his cheek, observed, "You seem to be faring poorly."
"Two hours ago, I took a potion."
Ravenna, her eyes bloodshot, stared intently at the furnace, oblivious to the weakness in her voice.
Ether, threadlike from her fingertips, slowly flowed into the furnace, wrapping around the hammered and scorched creation, meticulously and cautiously forging it in the direction she desired.
"Potions can replenish physiological and etheric needs, but they can't alleviate the fatigue and burden of the soul. This isn't good for the entire alchemical process."
Ravenna seemed not to hear, her gaze on the furnace already somewhat scattered, almost instinctively manipulating the ether, sensing the changes within the furnace. Her lips moved, muttering complex and chaotic data, her entire being teetering on the edge of consciousness collapse.