Scent-story: Ancient tomes and rolled parchment cover the desk of the apothecary as he searches for the solution. His finger traces down a page yellowed with time, the ink faded but still legible, written in the spidery hand of a forgotten scholar. He stops beside a notation scrawled in the margins, and his eyes alight.

He returns to his workbench and gathers the components. Colorful powders, fragrant spices and seed pods, bottles of crimson and emerald. He lights the candle beneath his beakers and watches as it begins to bubble. Steam escapes, and he pours the now boiling liquid into a cauldron to cool, adding ingredients until a soothing aroma rises from it.

He rubs his hands together. This time he has found the solution. This time his potion will achieve miracles.