Everyone seemed to be silent and motionless for an indefinite amount of time. It rather pleased Ariel; he loved the sensation of waiting for whatever he'd created to coalesce, to give up its secrets.
He simply continued to watch and observe, and when it was time, he recited the final spell to keep the ingredients in their new forms, the Chinese syllables arcane and lyrical, seeming to mark the mixture as the mortar and pestle began to settle.
After a few moments, when he was satisfied with the composition, Ariel nodded. "I think that settles that part of it." His tone was somehow quiet, as if afraid to disturb the atmosphere, somehow.