Goma pauses in surprise as she takes in the interior of the space, warmly illuminated with the light of late-day sun. The cozy space is in a state of utter disarray, the small bed unmade, half-read books lying open, clothing and shoes scattered across furniture and floor alike. Aside from the expected comforts of a person’s home, there are stranger things strewn about: dried herbs festoon the ceiling and walls. An alembic still and other implements of herbalism sit on a well-used workbench. An engraved 4-horned animal skull with a partly-burned candle melting between the eye sockets sit high on a shelf alongside an assortment of crystals, vials, and musical instruments.
“What is all this?” Goma asks. “You some kind of wizard?”
“Wizard! Haha…”Sanctuary, bringing her a pitcher of water and cup, laughs, lets his eyes dart off to some distant corner of the room. Goma fully ignores the offered cup and goes straight for the water pitcher.
