Luke waved a wooden spoon over the bubbling cauldrons, filling his nostrils with the spicy scent of cinnamon and apples. It smelled perfect, as always, so he hurried over to the labs and began cleaning the table and instruments.<br/>Once the alembic sparkled enough to reflect his smirking face he turned to the door and closed his eyes. A deep breath. Relax, let the stress escape. Picture the crowd, the rush. He opened his eyes with a grin, lifting a sandwitch board sigh under his arm, and grabbing a cauldron in each hand by the long, still cool handles.<br/>He shouldered open the door, and breezed out onto the stage, walking the edge of the stage, smiling at the crowd. He set the first cauldron on the small sconce at stage right, still bubbling and brewing, and the other at stage left, the scent wafting over the stage, the whirlwind of red and white that was the magician moving to the center of the stage. He dropped the hand painted sign to its place at his right. "The Amazing Mothwood, Wonder of the Bazaar!" it proclaimed in Ilsigi, written in large, sweeping gold colored letters, over a slightly faded painting of Luke's trademark smirking face.<br/>"Oh...Goodmorning everyone. Have I kept you waiting?" He asked charmingly, feigning surprise at the audience, and waiting for a response.