The infirmary was calm that morning, the hush of clean linens and the scent of crushed herbs drifting through the air. Lytavis was sorting tonics when the door opened.
Sister Tyratha stepped in, her tone warm but formal. "Lytavis, you have a visitor."
Lytavis blinked, surprised. "A visitor? Here?"
Tyratha smiled faintly. "An attractive young mage with very good manners."
Before Lytavis could ask, Jace appeared in the doorway. His robes were travel-dark, his expression careful but kind.
"Sister Tyratha," he said respectfully. "May I borrow your healer for a moment?"
Tyratha's eyes twinkled. "You may, as long as you return her in one piece." She slipped out, leaving them alone amid the quiet hum of light.
Lytavis wiped her hands on her apron and smiled. "You found me."
"I did," Jace said. "But only just. I'm leaving for Zin-Azshari within the hour."
Her smile faltered slightly. "The capital?"
He nodded. "Magister Darkrune received an invitation to study at the Well of Eternity itself. He's asked me to accompany him. It's… an opportunity I can't refuse."
"No, of course not," she said quickly, though something in her chest ached. "You'd be a fool if you did."
He gave a soft laugh, half-apology, half-regret. "Still, I didn't want to disappear without a word. We had a second dinner planned."
She lifted a brow, teasing lightly. "I remember."
"So," he said, reaching into the satchel slung over his shoulder, "I brought the dinner to you instead. Well, breakfast."
He set a small wrapped bundle in her hands. The faint scent of cinnamon drifted up - warm and sweet.
Lytavis's lips parted in surprise, then curved into a smile. "You remembered my weakness."
"I pay attention," he said, eyes bright.
She hesitated only a moment before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him. "I'll miss you, Jace Tisserand."
He returned the embrace affectionately, his voice low against her hair. "And I you, Lytavis Ariakan."
When she pulled back, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. A simple gesture - gentle, grateful - but enough to make his breath catch.
He lingered a moment longer, thumb brushing her hand before he bent and kissed her fingers with quiet reverence.
"My master is waiting," he said softly. "And his daughter - Starlys - she'll have my head if I'm late."
"Then go," she said, still smiling. "The Well of Eternity won't wait forever."
He laughed once, quietly, and left the way he came, his footsteps fading down the corridor.
Lytavis stood alone a moment longer, the bundle of cinnamon rolls warm in her hands. She wasn't heartbroken - just thoughtful.
He'd always been kind. Steady. Easy to laugh with. And she was glad for him - glad he'd been chosen, glad he'd see wonders few ever would.
Still, as she unwrapped one roll and tore it in half, she couldn't help smiling softly to herself. "Safe travels, Jace Tisserand," she murmured.
The cinnamon was warm, the glaze sweet. The world, for now, was quiet and good.