Hecuba stood beside the massive cauldron, its bubbling potion emitting a faint aroma that filled the air. She grasped an ancient tome, its pages crackling as she turned them. Her piercing yellow eyes scanned the text with intensity, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"We are running out of time," Oraya declared, her voice laced with urgency as she rose from her seat. Her veiled attire rustled softly as she paced around the room, her movements restless and agitated.
Hecuba nodded in agreement, her expression grim. She knew that Nyxium, the elixir they were attempting to brew, was notoriously treacherous and difficult to create. The risks were high, and the consequences of failure could be catastrophic.
"When will your companion visit Elyria?" Hecuba asked, her voice measured and cautious.