The wind blew restlessly in the tree limbs over head. I hardly paid any attention to it, my mind absorbed in the book lying open in my lap. Notes and sketches of plants and other materials covered the pages in fine quill strokes. My own delicate script.
The alchemy journal had been in my possession for years, a gift by an old friend. My thoughts went to him then as I flipped to the first page and was greeted by the rather messy handwriting.
"Write down your thoughts before they fly away on you, our curious little bird. - Khiroe "