Ethan smiled, ruffling her hair. "It means you'll have somewhere to stay." Her face lit up, a smile so pure that it made Ethan's chest tighten. "Really? I can stay with you?"

Ethan's smile softened. "Yeah. You're stuck with me now." The girl giggled, her tiny fingers tightening around his arm. Lia watched them with a warm expression. She loved watching her Master getting flustered by the little girl.

"You both idiots need to stop smiling so much. Let's go in, shall we? We still don't have the job and I don't know if the guy would let all three of us stay."

Ethan cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing slightly as he quickly regained his composure. "Right. Let's focus. No distractions." He gave the little girl a stern look. "You, no funny business. Just stay quiet and don't cause trouble."

She beamed up at him, her eyes wide with mock innocence. "Okay, big brother."

Ethan frowned because the reply wasn't all that convincing. He pushed open the door to the shop. The small bell above the door chimed as they stepped inside.

The interior was even more cluttered than he expected. Shelves overflowing with glass jars, dusty books, and strange plants lined the walls. The air was thick with the scent of herbs and a hint of something acrid that made his nose twitch.

Ethan couldn't help but marvel at the chaotic yet organized mess. It was the lair of a mad genius—or a hoarder with too much time on his hands.

"Is that… a skull?" Lia asked, her voice low as she pointed to a yellowed human skull perched atop a stack of books.

The little girl's eyes sparkled with curiosity. "Ooh, shiny."

Ethan quickly pulled her behind him. "Don't touch anything."

From the back of the shop, a gruff voice barked, "If you break it, you buy it. And my skulls aren't cheap."

An old woman shuffled out from behind a curtain of hanging vines, her hunched figure wrapped in layers of worn, patchwork robes. Her hair was wild and gray, frizzing out around her head like a nest of wiry roots. Small, beady eyes peered out from behind thick spectacles perched precariously on her long, crooked nose.

She took one look at Ethan, then at Lia, and finally at the little girl peeking out from behind Ethan's legs. Her gaze lingered on the silver-haired child for a second longer than Ethan was comfortable with before snapping back to him.

"Hmph. Looking for talismans, are you?" Her voice was sharp, each word biting like a cold wind. "Or just here to gawk at my collection?"

Ethan shook his head. "We're here about the sign outside. The apprentice position."

The woman's thin, cracked lips curled up into a grin that showed off a set of surprisingly sharp teeth. "Ah, so you think you're apprentice material, do you?" Her gaze flicked to his hands. "Your fingers look too soft. Too clean. Not used to digging in dirt and grinding bones, are you?"

Ethan squared his shoulders. "I learn fast."

The woman barked a laugh that sounded more like a crow cawing. "Bold one, aren't you? Let's see if your courage is matched by your skills." She turned and began shuffling back towards the rear of the shop. "Come on then, boy. Let's see what you're made of."

Ethan followed, throwing a quick glance at Lia, who shrugged and fell into step behind him. The little girl clung to his sleeve, her tiny fingers trembling slightly as they moved deeper into the dimly lit shop.

They passed shelves cluttered with strange ingredients—dried animal parts, glass jars filled with eyeballs that swiveled to follow their movement, powders in every shade imaginable. The air grew colder as they descended a narrow staircase, each step creaking underfoot.

The staircase led them to a dimly lit basement, far more expansive than the shop above. The stone walls were etched with runes. Wooden tables were scattered across the room, cluttered with alchemical tools, scrolls filled with handwritten incantations, and bizarre artifacts that defied explanation.

At the center of the room stood a massive cauldron, its surface bubbling with a viscous, iridescent liquid that shifted colors with each ripple. The air was thick with the scent of herbs, metal, and something oddly sweet—like rotting flowers.

The old woman shuffled over to the cauldron, her fingers dancing over its edge as if stroking a beloved pet. Her eyes gleamed with a wicked spark. "Alright, boy. You want to be my apprentice? Here's your first test."

She waved her hand, and a stone mortar and pestle flew across the room, landing with a thud on the table in front of Ethan. A bundle of dried herbs floated over next, landing beside the mortar.

"You're going to make a basic ink pot. Let's see if you can handle it without blowing us all to bits." Her lips curled into a grin that made Ethan's stomach churn. "Crush the herbs until they're a fine powder, then add exactly three pinches to the cauldron. No more, no less."

Ethan stared at the herbs. They were a dull green, brittle and crumbling at the edges. "Seems simple enough," he muttered, reaching for the mortar.

The old woman's cackle echoed off the stone walls. "Simple, he says! Not if you're foolish enough to inhale the dust. Those herbs are toxic to the lungs. Breathe in too much and you'll be coughing up your insides."

Ethan's hand froze mid-reach. "You could've mentioned that sooner."

"Where's the fun in that?" She folded her arms, her grin widening. Ethan tore a piece of cloth from his shirt, wrapping it around his nose and mouth as a makeshift mask. "Alright, fine. Let's do this."

He grabbed the herbs and placed them in the mortar, grinding them with slow, deliberate movements. The brittle leaves crumbled easily, releasing a faint cloud of dust that shimmered under the dim light.

Ethan's eyes stung, but he kept his breaths shallow and steady, taking care not to inhale the toxic particles.