Brew 15

Blaise stood frozen in his doorway, blinking at Seraphina.

She held his sketchbook in one hand, a gentle smile playing on her lips. “I thought I should return this,” she said her tone playful and her eyes warm.

Before Blaise could form a coherent response, Seraphine hummed as she stepped past him and into the room, Rook tottering at her heels with a sense of entitlement. Her smile faded slightly as she took in the cluttered state of his quarters. Books stacked on top of more books. Loose parchments rolled and unrolled in messy towers. But what caught her attention was the tear in Blaise’s council robe, draped across the chair like it had been abandoned in a rush. She picked it up with a delicate touch, careful not to make the tear worse and frowned. “Rook.”

The fox leapt onto the table, awaiting Seraphina’s instructions. With one hand, Seraphina plucked a single strand of fur from his neck, making him wince, before she laid it along the torn seam.

“Repar-ium.”

The fabric knitted itself together in front of Blaise’s eyes, the fur thread growing briefly as it sealed into the cloth. “Wow,” he whispered, eyes wide as he took the cloak, inspecting the seam. “It’s almost like it didn’t exist.”

“It’s a simple spell,” Seraphine said with a soft laugh, amused by his awe. “Though when paired with Rook’s fur, it becomes quite resilient. It’s one of the first spells learnt at the academy. Can’t have students going around in tattered robes after all.”

“Thank you,” Blaise smiled as he continued to look along the seam.

“Don’t you know the spell?” Seraphina asked as she brushed off a chair, taking a seat.

Blaise laughed sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I never attended the academy.”

“You’re self-taught?” Seraphina gasped at the realisation. “Not even a master to teach you?”

Blaise nodded. “Correct,” he had a soft smile on his face. “No formal training and no master. All I had was the books I found in my attack.”

Rook gave a low, appreciative hum as he curled into his mistress’ lap. “A rare path,” he muttered. “Risky – but respectable.”

“I studied what I could,” Blaise shrugged. “Tried a little of everything and stuck to the path that felt right for me.”

A silence fell between them – get, not awkward. Only breaking when Blaise cleared his throat. “Where are my manners,” he said standing up quickly. “May I offer you a drink?”

Seraphina took a moment to look at the counter of the kitchenette, not really seeing anything that caught her eye but felt it would be rude to reject the offer. “Surprise me.”

Blaise smirked; challenge accepted.

He moved with purpose, reaching for a far of dried, purple-veined leaves. He laid them on the cutting board, rolling them flat, then chopping them with careful precision. As the kettle boiled, he measured out honey into each cup.

Seraphina and Rook watched with growing amusement. “You take tea very seriously.”

"I always have," Blaise replied. "These leaves-low in caffeine, while still rich in flavour. Found them growing wild near my home. Took many weeks to get the combination right.”

He placed the leaves into the strainer, poured the hot water slowly over them and allowed the mixture to steep. The water bloomed into a deep lavender hue.

“Beautiful,” Seraphina’s expression softened as she watched the water change.

Blaise handed her the cup, sitting across from her and watched closely as she took her first sip. “Delicious,” she complimented. “Sweet, earthy and very…calming.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Blaise’s face flushed as he was showered with compliments.

“You’re clearly more in tune with nature than most council members,” Seraphina commented. “Natural magic suits you.”

“I grew up in a forest after all,” Blaise chuckled lowly. “My family and I… we hid there.”

Seraphina’s gaze sharpened, saying nothing – only listening to Blaise’s tale.”

“I was, maybe, eighter when the magic started,” Blaise continued. “Little things. Flickers of light, leaves moving when they shouldn’t. My mother noticed first. She didn’t say anything at first but one night, we packed what we could and left our home behind.” He looked down into his cup, watching the honey swirl. “The Witch Hunts hadn’t fully ended in our region. My father wanted to say, said it would blow over. He…He didn’t come with us.”

Seraphina reached around the table, placing her hand on top of Blais’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“My mother never trained in magic,” Blaise’s voice started to strain as he relived his past. “But she believed in it. In me. She would brew tea from roots, I didn’t quite understand and found myself exploring. Finding berries that would heal, that would burn and even once nearly poisoning myself trying to enchant a mushroom.”

“You sound like a handful,” Seraphina joked with a soft laugh.

“Mother called me her curious little tom,” Blaise said with a weak smile. “Always causing trouble, always asking questions. She did her best and gave up everything to keep me safe.”

“She would be proud,” Seraphina assured. “She gave you your roots and you’ve grown so tall.”

“I like to think she’s proud,” Blaise exhaled shakily “I wish she could have taught me more, but I see she taught me what really matters.”

“You’ve never learnt formal magical instruction?” Seraphina asked, Blaise shaking his head. “Then how about, dear Blaise, I teach you?”

Blaise looked up at her, his expression brightening. He truly looked up to Seraphina – seeing her not just as a council leader but as someone who could lift others up and show them a bright future.