The concoction inside your cauldron simmered and bubbled, its aroma wafting out the window that had been left ajar. As you continued to stir, a bluish hue seeped through its surface, eliciting a frown from you.

Just as your mind began to swirl with possible reasons regarding the anomaly in nuance, the answer arrived by itself. A creaking sound of the floor had prompted you to turn around... and behind you stood Zandik, his countenance graced by a roguish smirk. Undoubtedly, he had slipped something inside your mixture when your attention was diverted.

He was nothing if not the epitome of eccentricity. Not much has changed ever since the both of you were routed out of your hometown. Successfully assuming the role of your unofficial chaperone, he had always managed to appear out of thin air- as if he were the witch, and not you.

With a flamboyant bow, he addressed you as always, "Greetings, my fellow eccentric individual" as he spoke, his eyes sparkled like the fire beneath your cauldron.