Published at 16th of February 2024 2:21 pm

Chapter 19. Advanced Alchemy

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It was Fifthday, and Nox rose early for his last induction class. Advanced Alchemy demanded eight hours of his time with a short break in the middle. Lillin found the length daunting, but it didn’t bother him. Once engaged in the art of brewing, time passed in a flash. If anything, he didn’t like the idea of taking a break. It interrupted his flow.

The eighth bell rang, and the number of students didn’t reach the double digits. They sat behind individual work benches with burners, cauldrons, and grid boxes of essential ingredients. All other equipment and materials sat on shelves spread around the laboratory. Nox occupied a spot at the back just behind Vys.

“You’ll love Professor Das,” Vys told him as they waited for the man to arrive. “He is a little eccentric, but the man knows his alchemy.”

“Das?” Nox raised an eyebrow. “Is he from the south?”

Vys nodded. “He came from Morihat. He sails across the Sapphire Straits after every semester and comes back with the strangest sweets for the class and his assistants.”

Nox grew restless, waiting for the instructor to arrive. His pocket watch said five minutes had passed since the eighth-morning bell, and the man was yet to appear. He had met people who originated from the sprawling southern continent and even saw glimpses of it when the Golden Isles drifted by the Sapphire Strait. Traders from across the narrow strip of water often visited his mother’s court, too. However, he had never met anyone who was born and grew up in the land of mangrove jungles, terraced hills, and silt-rich hills, all fragmented by great rivers, their tributaries, and petty wars.

Five minutes turned into ten, and the professor still didn’t appear. However, all the students in the class had started their workstations’ burners and had cauldrons full of distilled water boiling atop them. They added purifying salts and seasoning oils before stirring the contents with long ivory spoons. It was standard cleaning procedure. Cleaning cauldrons and warding the metal against unwanted reactions was necessary between concoctions. Mou had apprentices for such menial jobs, and Nox used them for the same purpose. He paid them in information regarding brewing shortcuts and tutoring before milestone exams. Now, he had to do the most annoying alchemical jobs without any aid.

First, Nox scrubbed the container using a metal brush and boiled linseed oil. He cleaned every nook and cranny, going under the lip, handle hooks, and bottom. Vys and his peers shot curious glances at Nox. “Soot buildup on the burn points affects heat retention,” he told them. “It takes longer to reach the necessary temperature and even longer for the cauldron to cool.”

“An extra couple of seconds at any vital stage can drastically alter the final result,” a cheerful male voice said. Its owner over-annunciated, rolled the Rs, mispronounced a few words, and stretched out several others. He emerged from a doorway at the back of the workshop instead of the main entrance. Nox was sure it led to a storeroom. The dark skin, jet-black hair, and beaky nose betrayed his southern-continent heritage. “Apologies for the tardiness. My airship pulled in late last night. I forgot to set my alarm, and well… you know the rest.”

“He’s chronically late,” Vys whispered, leaning back in his stool. “Professor announces the following week’s brew at the end of every class, though. So we often start without him.”

“I see we have a couple of new faces. We need to appraise your skill level and ensure the rest of you kept sharp during the break,” Professor Das said. His dark brown eyes swept over the room and momentarily paused when they met Nox’s. “So, we will repeat the brew from your intermediate exams—Clairvoyant’s Draught. I’ll grade you on strength, activation time, and toxicity. Failure means you’re demoted to the intermediate class.”

“Do you mean all of us?” A woman seated at the front of the class asked. She appeared closer to thirty than twenty.

“I do.”

“That’s not fair!” The woman exclaimed. “We already proved ourselves.”

“Alchemy isn’t just about creating fantastical concoctions.” Professor Das’s cheerful tone disappeared. A biting coldness replaced it. “You need to be capable of reproducing it whenever a commission comes, and the product needs to be of consistent quality, if not better than your previous attempt. Alchemy is a difficult and competitive trade. The intermediate course taught you that I’m not a fair man. Did you think the advanced class would be easier? Do you expect me to grow more lenient just because you’re in this small exclusive group?”

The woman didn’t argue.

While the class rushed to gather ingredients, additional burners, funnels, mixing flasks, and cooling jugs, Nox continued working on his cauldron. Once done with the scrubbing, he boiled distilled water in it with cleansing salts. Then he drained the container, added seasoning oils, and let the burner roar underneath until the fats smoked. A pair of tongs and sterilized cloth helped him spread the hot fluid over the inner and outer surfaces. Professor Das stared at him throughout the process. The man sat at his desk with heavy ledgers in front of him. His ancient peacock quill scratched the paper loudly as he worked.

It was the quarter chime past the tenth-morning bell before Nox started processing ingredients. He chopped, diced, minced, crushed, blanched, boiled, and charred over an open flame. Each ingredient demanded a different process and served a different purpose. Nox separated them accordingly.

A quarter of the ingredients would form the draught’s base. A third contained the essences necessary for minor clairvoyance. Another third counteracted the combination’s hallucinogenic properties while also reducing the concoction’s base toxicity. The rest acted as catalysts, stabilizers, and preservatives.

Stolen novel; please report.

Even though it was risky, Nox attempted something new during the brewing. Besides the transmutation and spellform creation, the extraction and preservation of essences was the most challenging element of alchemy. Crystallize Essence had the potential to make the process significantly easier and more efficient.

Nox kept track of his classmates as he worked. They all used the same equipment setup and sequence of steps. Instead of processing all of the ingredients first, they only utilized what they needed at the moment. First, they got the base started, then prepared the catalysts, stabilizers, and preservatives to near completion. Much to Nox’s surprise, they completed the counter toxin without touching the essence-containing ingredients. Nox guessed they intended to leave them untouched until after lunch.

Mou preferred leaving the counter-toxins for last. Too much of the element worked counterintuitively by poisoning the user. She had taught Nox to complete the primary reactive part of the concoction first and then measure its toxicity before producing the counter.

Once he had the base cooking, Nox activated the essence-containing ingredients one at a time—most required heating or an infusion of mana before releasing the volatile energies. Because of their instability and tendency to revert to raw mana, most alchemists preferred leaving the step until the end. They gathered all the essences simultaneously and then combined them using the relevant spellform. The Ratra family used Slow to decelerate diffusion and energy loss. Now, Nox had Crystallize Essence to nullify almost all loss.

When most of the class paused for a lunch break, Nox continued working. Vys and one other student took a page out of his book and did the same. Professor Das stayed at his desk, pretending to fill out material ordering forms, but Nox felt the older man’s eyes on him as he went about the brewing process.

Solidified essences in exact quantities and ratios went in the base. Catalysts and preservatives followed. Nox didn’t need stabilizers since using essence glass and a modified spellform fulfilled the purpose. Then Galvanising Touch injected active mana into the mixture, and the stabilized essences changed state simultaneously. The spellform necessary for the draught activated soon after, and Nox held his breath as the concoction came together.

Slow halted the currents in the cauldron, and another spellform cooled the resulting mixture. Then the Sigil of Immunity helped Nox judge the mixture’s toxicity. He grinned. It was the cleanest brew he had ever made, demanding minimal counter toxins.

“Are you done?” Professor Das asked.

While focused on the final stages of the transmutation process and the concoction’s completion, he missed the older man’s approach. “I am, sir,” he answered. “I don’t know how good it is.”

“Tried new spells and processes?”

Nox nodded.

Processor Das placed a vial of a clear liquid on the workbench. He swirled an ivory spoon in it before testing the Clairvoyant’s Draught. The man froze. His eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and he shuddered. It was then Nox noticed that Vys and the other student had stopped working. They were busy watching the professor’s appraisal.

“It’s almost perfect,” the older man said when he regained his composure. He sniffed at the concoction and stirred it, studying its uniform clearness and viscosity.

“Nox is Professor Kris’s first apprentice,” Vys told the older man. “He used to work as an alchemist in the trade empire.”

“Nox Ratra?” Professor Das raised an eyebrow. “Dean Oleg told me to keep an eye on you.” The lecture had brought Nox to the Department of Production. Much like the arcane research and war magic departments, it had its own dean. “Any relationship of Mou and Pallav Ratra?”

“Aunt and father, professor,” Nox answered.

“That explains it! How are they keeping, bhai?” Nox didn’t speak his paternal family’s native tongue but knew bhai was an endearing word for brother.

“My father died during a godfall eighteen years ago, and Mou is well,” Nox replied. “She’s one of the top alchemists in the Trade Empire, has a loving husband and two children.”

“That’s mostly nice to hear.” The professor sighed. “I’m sorry about your papa, bhai. I’m sure he’d be proud of your alchemical skills.” He paused, glancing thoughtfully at Vys. “Tell me. Would you like a job? Vys helps me out a couple of times a week. It doesn’t pay the best due to departmental budget constraints, but you’ll learn a lot.”

“I don’t know,” Nox replied, staring at the cooling concoction thoughtfully. “My course load is pretty heavy, and I need more time to work on personal brews. I’m attending the university on my own dime, you see.”

“Paying your own way in life? I can respect that. Tell you what. If you work for me, I can introduce you to my contacts around the city. They’ll pay better for brews than the university, and if you’re clever, you can negotiate long-term contracts, too. I’ll let you buy materials through my university account so you get the best rates—until you can negotiate something better. Just don’t brew anything illegal or questionable. Alright?”

“That sounds too good to turn down,” Nox said, his face lighting up. “Do you want a formal contract, or will a verbal agreement suffice? There will be times when I need to take days off for delving and personal projects.”

“Or you could transfer to the production department and live like a king.” Professor Das laughed. “A verbal agreement will do, bhai. I’ll send an appointment letter with Vys next week detailing your start date and the pay. After testing your brew, Dean Oleg might give me some leeway on the assistant budget. We respect talent in this department and take care of our own.”

“Thank you, professor.”

Nox finished and felt hopeful about the coming few months. He felt happier than he had in a long time. Unfortunately, a mote of sadness came with it. He wanted nothing more than to have tea with Mou and share the developments, but there was no telling when he would get to see her again.

Professor Das appeared to sense the sour note tainting Nox’s otherwise good mood and sent him away with a box of milk-based treats. They were unlike anything he had tasted before. The Golden Isles enjoyed countless spices as the heart of the Trade Empire. Nox knew cinnamon, nutmeg, and cardamom well. The older man introduced him to one he had never encountered before.

“That’s saffron,” Professor Das told him as Nox puzzled over the pink strands sitting on a compressed block of sweetened milk solids. “It was your father’s favorite. I was a student during his short stint as an alchemy professor. He’d ensure I brought him a box of these at the start of every semester. I bet you’ll enjoy it too.”

Nox left the building feeling even more homesick. He wanted to share the little unknown piece of his father with Mou.

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