Lore short story  Summer Triangle twinkles in the sky. Like a cordial rendezvous on a midsummer night, the Cygnus and Aquila meet face to face with the strings of Lyra plucking a piece of music between them. Stars are tiny and their lights delicate but it is when the moon chooses to rest from watching over the changing of day do these delicate illuminations finally shine the most.
Nevertheless, whether they are hiding or taking the stage, none will escape the ever-so-watchful spyglass of a certain land dweller on the high tower atop her castle.“Altair seems brighter than usual today,” a curious voice mumbles under a large pointy hat, dark blue like the sky itself moments away before fully engulfed by the night. “ Is it because the clouds are thinner today, I wonder? Even Deneb is clearer than ever when Vega is usually the one perfectly visible form here.”Psystra turns her stargazing telescope. The gold-laced cylinder refocuses and the constellations seen through the lens are magnified significantly, giving her a better view of the glimmering space objects. It is as though those brilliant twinkles are reflected in her sapphire blue eyes, as if she is engraving each and every star into her memories.Just then, however, there is the sound of water bubbling and smoke hissing in the room.The elf mage’s pointy ears twitch at this familiar noise. In the next moment, she almost jumps and knocks off the standing telescope.“Oh! Oh, no, I almost forgot!”Turning back, she is immediately greeted by the sight of a massive cauldron in the middle of the room, full of pink and blue liquid blending into a strange purple that threatens to spill onto the stone floor. Behind the cauldron, numerous flasks and small pots fill up the wooden tables and shelves to the brim, herbs and potions of various kinds create a distinct medicinal smell wafting in the air.Psystra quickly grabs a big ladle and stirs the boiling liquid in the cauldron, adjusting the fire underneath with a wave of her magic. After a while, the raging potion-in-making finally calms, and the strange purple splits into pink and blue again.“Phew, that was close.”Wiping a drop of sweat from her face, the elf mage smiles in relief. She picks up an old book from a nearby shelf, flipping through the dusty old page until she finds a picture of a cauldron and bubbling liquid like the one in her workshop.“Let’s see… Mince a handful of mandrake roots and mix it with rose powder. After that, pour everything into the concoction, then leave it for another three hours to boil down. Alright, that shouldn’t be too hard.”Putting down the book, Psystra snaps her finger. A cutting board and a knife fly down from the shelf on the other side of the room, followed by two pieces of mandrake roots and a flask of rose powder from her storage. They land slowly on a large table by the cauldron, starting to work on their own to create the ingredients instructed in the book. Psystra picks up the completed mandrake and rose powder and sprinkles it into the cauldron, seemingly satisfied when the brewing liquid bubbles and settles.“Now then, what should I do while waiting for the potion to finish?”The elf mage turns to the window where her telescope sits in its usual place.Watching the stars through the lens is fun but staying cooped up in the tower can sometimes be boring, even if she can always come up with a myriad of ideas to keep herself entertained.But the warm summer breeze blows past her face at this time and caresses the golden locks of her hair, just like how it makes the lush green forest rustle outside. It is almost like nature itself is sending her a message — she knows now what to do while waiting for her brewing potion.“The Summer Triangle twinkles in the sky. Cygnus and Aquila are meeting once more with the Lyra playing a piece of music between them. Since that is the case, shall I take a walk in the forest and watch them up close from the top of the hills?”