The Witcher's Path: New Rays From an Ancient Sun

As if on cue when her name was brought to mind, a loud series of bangs echoed through my door that were far more demanding than those produced by Habaara earlier. I had found a moment to set the preciously fragile bloom down upon a clean dish a split-second before the knocking rudely disturbed my process. The only explanation was the brief, but certainly noticeable, leakage of Abyssal energies once I had opened the canister to retrieve the Petal. Being so close by me, regardless of whatever it was that had been previously occupying her, she was bound to have felt a sudden disturbance of Dark energy. Indeed, it was likely that a few nearby who were not involved felt a shiver in the Arcane world through their Medallion or Pendant. It would hardly have been enough to cause more than a millisecond's worth of concern for them...yet none of them would be as near unto me as the ever-watchful senses of Rosemary. And so, I once again turned back towards the door and slid back the shutter in the center to address who could only be the Sorceress Supreme herself outside.

“You promised not to bother me if none of us bothered you, Rosemary…” I sighed quite irritably through the cage over the window. “I do not recall even getting a hissed warning that one moment I emerged to obtain some further ingredients from the crystal cabinet…so please, do tell, what gives?”

“Oh how dare you try and play coy with me, Frejdá.” She growled back at me with fanged teeth softly bared. “Whatever it is you are working on in there is highly Abyssal and should not be allowed on School grounds! Whatever are you thinking you daft mare?! Are you trying to bury us like the School of the Dragon?!”

“Go plough yerself, Rosemary.” I scoffed back through the window with utter disdain. “As far as I recall, the Dragons attempted to summon an Arch-Daemon directly in their own keep using unholy rites as a combined force. You yourself have brought and experimented on Voidkissed items aplenty in both this Laboratorium, and the Magus Domum alike, and no Chasm has opened up to swallow the School. Spare me any lectures on ‘danger’ and ‘daftness’ and give them to yourself first why don’t you? It would spare my ears the hassle...”

“Why you…!” She bristled most aggressively as soft wisps of sparkling midnight blue curled off her mane. “I demand to know what it is you are working on! I will not tolerate for a moment a single word of any smoke-and-mirror tactics. Whatever it is you have in there gave off a signature far Darker than anything I have ever dabbled with here, and I think I of all mares would know that form of personal information best. Would you not think so as well? Or do you truly think that little of me and my superior intellect?”

I sighed long and hard as an initial response before I replied, “Fine…I suppose it was inevitable you would discover it whilst being so close by… I take it you have yet to catch wind of what I happened upon whilst on the Path?”

“Oh please, you are hardly that interesting of a mare to keep such a close eye upon amidst the hundreds of other ignorant savages here… No, I have had my muzzle buried deep into this project for the last month at the absolute least! I am a busy mare full of fascinating ideas far beyond your comprehension! There is always more to be explored in this majestic world of ours! Exploring more about you? Bah! What a waste of time that would truly be…”

“Truly a bore, yes…” I somewhat agreed with her as she indeed led an arguably more interesting life than I did by some metrics. “If I tell you what I have, will you leave me be? Don’t you have an alembic to watch over?”

“Darling, that was hours ago! My precious albumen is now incubating my custom elixir now as we speak, which might I add, has taken me years of adjustments and fine-tuning to get it to what I have now. With my great labor complete, for the time being at least, I have all the time in the world to press you on this matter. It will be many, many years until the current stage even begins to show signs of progress towards my next predicted step, so fret not over me dear Frejdá. The other half of tonight’s experiment can wait a little longer as it is but a trifling period to wait in comparison to the first stage which has already come to fruition. As to your offer, I suppose that all depends on how much of my curiosity you pique with whatever it is you have in there. It had better be worth my while...”

“I cannot even begin to express how asinine those last words of yours are…I slew a NightShade Spectre near unto Hollyhock about a fortnight ago. You should know what follows from something like that.” I said simply, her eyes shooting wide open with recognition for what that implied.

“Shade Petals??” She gasped with equal parts terror and unbridled excitement like I had never seen in her before. “Oh what a glorious day be this! I demand you share in your quarry this instant! So many possibilities…and such fresh Petals?? Dear Gods I could swoon from the stress of this moment! There is simply a plethora of experiments just waiting to be discovered and documented you daft mare!”

“I seem to be failing to recall you being by my side during that particular Hunt...” I replied coolly, raising a hoof to touch the shutter on the window. “All those fumes from that alembic must have rotted that illustrious brain of yours if you think you have any sort of right to fucking demand anything of me that you have not rightfully earned any part of.”

“And what of those two laughable Foxes you had in tow? Surely they asked you to brew something for them, yes?”

“Perhaps, but all the same I was amply paid for any materials being used. If you’re willing to do something of the same, then I might be so inclined to…ahem…‘share’, as you so mislabeled it.”

“...You dare try and barter for coin with me over something so fundamentally important to an entire burgeoning branch of Arcane Science?!” She softly shrieked through her gasp for breath as if my words had clobbered her abdomen. “How dare you even thin-”

Her cutting, parting words were themselves cut short by the shutter sliding firmly closed into the seal at the opposite side of the guide rail which restrained it. Instead of returning back to my work however, I remained waiting by the door for her pride to erode away with time until she gave into the temptation I’d dangled before her. Indeed, within a matter of moments the last of her stubborn pride seemed to melt under the intensity of her burning passion to experiment and her frantic pounds upon the metal door resumed. There was…one other thing she was more than likely to ask for as well…yet thanks to her actions, or lack thereof, the possibility was now rendered entirely moot. I was not to be held responsible for her entirely blowing me off prior to setting out on the Path…

“Fifteen Royales per Petal.” I said matter-of-factly through the window as I slid the shutter back open to see her angry, pouting face still standing outside. “And yes, I am deadly serious about that price. In case you don't care, I have something I have to get back to which someone has already paid for in advance with interest. So...either propose to me a better deal, or you’re shite out of luck on getting your hooves on a Petal.”

“FIFTEEN?!?” She shrieked with restrained rage given the time of day and the echoing walls. “That is absolutely outrageous! In no universe is a single Shade Petal worth 375 Crowns apiece!!”

“And you know that price point across multiple unknowable universes simply off the top of your head just like that? A mare who has obviously never had the opportunity to experiment with a Petal before if your desperation is anything to go off of? Please…perhaps I am a bit overpriced, but can any of us really put a price on such a rare item? Digitalis Purpurea is not a common choice for NightShade formations as you may already be aware. I should be charging four-hundred apiece if anything now that I am pondering over it more…”

“...Just…please…Frejdá…” She hissed painfully through a strained whisper after taking another moment to desperately gasp for air. “I beg of you, be merciful upon me at this juncture! They…they could be what I have been missing for all these decades…you have absolutely no idea the sheer need I have for this.”

“Do you witness me shutting the window on you yet? Fifteen platinums or your next best offer of a similar value in either hard coin, or in sheer utility to a Witcher like myself. Keep in mind that again, I earned these blooms by Hunting down its owner on my own, and brought it all the way back with me from southern Equestria. With that kind of labor involved, you are paying for that level of convenience. After all, I brought these to your metaphorical front door. If your need is so great, I’m sure you will find it in your own personal coffers to properly compensate me somewhat for your abundance of shite. Both tonight and many places and times elsewhere between us.”

Tears began to visibly form in her eyes as she reluctantly raised her sagging head to look back up at me as she gasped out, “V-very well…you leave me no choice then… I have not mine purse with me as it is back in my exquisite quarters in Tir Ná Liá. However…I could send Habaara for it if you would be most…magnanimous…in waiting for that to occur...?”

“I would hate for you to force that poor girl to do anything that you could just as easily do yourself with your own four legs, Rosemary. And yet, you seem to find yourself far too important for any task so mundane, do you not?”

“But of course! Did she attend University at Ban Ard? Has she walked amongst realms of existence far beyond imagination? Harnessed the power of the Cosmos to enact colossal acts of sheer will over the Arcane? Hardly! Her place is to serve those who have made something of themselves like myse-”

With that, I shut the window firmly shut once more as her arrogance was growing unbearable, especially with such harsh words towards her dutiful little Dwemess who answered her every beck and call with her utmost best effort. I could only hope the poor girl was conveniently out of earshot on another errand so she would not have to hear her Mistress berate her for merely having been born into far more mundane circumstances. Rosemary had been so lucky as to inherit most of her mother’s Thestral genes so she was able to mostly assimilate herself into their high society. And yet, her Equestrian father, long-since deceased, had always stood in the way of her full acceptance as one of their own. Their union had supposedly been one born of love rather than it being in any way advantageous, or indeed even wanted, by their respective sides of the family. All the same however, both sides of her family came from notable wealth and nobility giving their one and only child whatever she desired most whilst growing up. And, while the Equestrian side had disowned her Baron father for his choice in brides, he had still brought the wealth of his personal estate with him into the marriage. As such, Rosemary, despite being somewhat of a pariah amongst her own, had never known any form of poverty save for the stench and squalor associated with it whenever she had to pass it by. To be born under a family name with diluted or, worse yet, no ties to royalty…such a person might as well not exist to her as they could never amount to much more than servitude to those with wealth and talent. Hardly a suitable way to approach a fellow Sentient...yet it seemed to come standard with most blue-blooded individuals and their tangled web of families and their varying honorable titles.

I suppose it went without saying, but her own obnoxious attitude was more than likely her own attempt to make up for her ‘tainted’ bloodline. Despite her irritating behavior, it was plain to see that she wanted nothing more than to be seen by her peers as one of their own in full. Of course…that same bloodline was likely part of the reason she was refused permanent lodging within the Thestral Dominion and found herself ‘forced’ to live in the Valley. Such a thing was a burden others of her kin were experiencing here as well as rare was the Thestral who was openly willing to leave the shady boughs of their ancient Forest. The Thestrals dwelling amidst the Scarlet Pines south of the School were not all exiles of the Dominion per-se, yet many amongst them found themselves in a similar position to herself. Technically accepted by their society for being one of their own kind...yet, something about them, their bloodline, their pursuits, or something else entirely, was responsible for them finding solace amongst us instead of under the protective shade of their Forest. As such, they saw fit to make a veritable little Dominion of their own amidst the towering redwood trees planted as ancient gifts in the southern end of the Valley. There was something ironic about this fact as said trees had been planted by highly-esteemed members of their own race in ages long past during the founding days of the School of the Wolf. Scarlet Pines was naught but a glimpse of the deepest forested regions of the Dominion, where redwoods many thousands of years old loomed like the Spire both in height and width. The trees in the Valley by comparison were still exceedingly young, yet the magic inherent to our home spurned their natural growth tenfold with healthy roots and lush boughs fit to live in. A veritable palace of living wood of majestic red, absolutely perfect to replicate but a timid glimpse at their great city of Prifddinas with its seamless blend of crystal and living redwood.

Dear little Habaara, by stark contrast, was a Dwemess of no real renown outside of being known as Rosemary's personal assistant. Having been born a member of the Copperbeak Clan, she had dwelt in the northern reaches of their expansive Underkingdom for some time before choosing to live topside. She was reportedly of a family of common masons and simple household potters as far as I knew; certainly no esteemed position within a society founded upon those trades amongst many other physical crafts. And yet, she had still found a place for herself at the School as one of our many serving staff which kept the daily cogs turning smoothly. She had even been bold enough to volunteer to act as the aide to Rosemary upon her ascension to the position of Sorceress Supreme of the School. Though my contact with both ladies was infrequent due to our differing stations and duties, I knew which of the two I much preferred interacting with if given the choice. Habaara was a sweet, gentle being seemingly incapable of malice, but rather easily given to giving her all towards those she seemingly respected. Part of me also wondered if she might have taken up the post in order to try and learn magic for herself, as absolutely nothing precluded a Dwem from being touched by the Arcane like any other race. If anything, the Dwemari at large seemed just as capable of magic as their larger cousins the Griffins and the Örn, with several of their number being found amongst great names of Arcane history. Assuming she had even an inkling of the Power, it was only the coin necessary to afford a University education or a private tutor which stood as the only true preclusion in her case. Regardless of her personal reasons for taking up the post, Habaara had proven dedicated and loyal to her job to the last and was deserving of kinder conditions from her employment.

For twenty-odd years now, all that was asked of her had been undertaken with speed and gusto as the little Dwemess only sought to serve and do her best by all accounts. In all ways did her earnestness in this endeavor shine through, what with her countless hours spent doing whatever it was that bitch of a half-breed Thestral demanded. Every beck and call was swiftly answered and every request fulfilled as if her life depended upon it. She truly deserved far better treatment than being ridiculed purely for coming from a middling family. Rosemary's only saving grace was that species had nothing to do with her constant superiority-complex as well, otherwise Rosemary likely stood to lose her position if she were so openly bigoted in our Valley of so many species and cultures. Whilst bias against wealth (or the lack thereof) was one thing, bigotry towards any given race was simply unneeded in the Solar Valley. We had naught but one another to rely on in our ever changing world, and by sheer necessity alone had to try and ensure cooperation with one another over petty disputes that have spanned literal ages of the world. After all, we actively stood atop a very holy space. We only endured in the center of Equestrian territory by grace of our unity and cooperation with one another. We simply had to be better than Equestria with its overabundance of malice and bigotry towards everyone, including themselves. We may be at peace with them, yet they still warred amongst themselves to this day and seemingly sought to try and drag one or more of us along by the neck with them with a weighty spiked chain.

THUD. THUD. THUD.

Her knocking resumed. This time much less frantic, yet far more deliberate with raps which lightly rattled my glassware attached to the ceiling mountings. I knew I had her by the tail now with how insistent she was on obtaining what she desired. As to whether or not the mare behind the knocking was sufficiently humbled by my abrupt denial from earlier…it remained to be seen. I was willing to negotiate, if she was willing to not be so far up her own arse about it all.

“One last chance, Rosemary. And apologize for what you said about Habaara before anything else. You can trash my name all you wish at this juncture, but I will not stand for you degrading such a wonderful little assistant as you are so lucky to have in your employ. If only every Sorceress and Sorcerer were so lucky as to have someone like her to do all the menial tasks and duties that you all are so clearly above performing yourselves. The fact that I need say anything and that you cannot see it for yourself through all your self-righteous vanity is no surprise whatsoever...”

“Excuse me?!” She growled angrily before she noticed the window sliding shut and she hissed out, “Fine! Fine. I apologize…”

“To...?”

“To Habaara…Daughter of Hinduri Bronze-Talon…”

“For...?”

“For what?? I’ve said my apology have I not? What more do you want from me?!”

“For fuck’s sake, Rosemary you truly have no idea how much of a self-centered bitch you are…if you are incapable of even a simple apology, then we have nothing left to discuss here.”

“Fine! I am sorry for being a self-centered bitch of a mare! Do you want me to prostrate myself before thee in sackcloth and ashes?! Just let me have a damned Petal…please…!”

Before I even had time to respond she immediately opted to do as she said and knelt low before me, risking her pristine dress against the stone floor as her head hung low. It was…well, I simply had no idea how to respond to such a motion coming from the likes of her. Not once had she even displayed a capacity to bring herself so low before someone she herself saw as below her intellect and station. If the tears in her eyes and pleading in her voice had not been sign enough of her need…this had entirely sealed it in cold, hardened fact. She was desperate to get her hooves on a Shade Petal for whatever reason and I had her wrapped around my hoof however I wanted. And yes, perhaps it was only due to us being the only two occupants of the Laboratorium which allowed her to grovel so openly before me… Yet who was I to not acknowledge it and stand to gain something valuable in exchange for it? I had already set a rather lofty price, even for such a rare item, and I would be willing to negotiate it down somewhat for the sake of her desperation…on one condition.

“Alright…ten Platinums apiece.” I finally replied after I felt she had been one with the floor for long enough. “And add the other five from the first quote I gave you to Habaara’s salary for this month as a compensatory bonus.”

“T-that’s har-”

“It's a ploughing bargain, Rosemary and you know it. Unless, of course, you've got something of equal-enough value that might do in lieu of hard coin? I am more than willing to hear any counter offers you might have in store, as long as they are around the same price as what I quoted you.”

“...Two ingots of Lunar Silver harvested in the heart of the Dominion, one ounce apiece.” She whispered in a tone that was almost too quiet to hear over the noise of the vortex above and behind me. “And…two…no…three Royales to her wage, spread out over the next three months. Is that…ugh…is that a suitable enough counter-offer in your eyes?”

Lunar Silver? I had been after coins of solid platinum, but this was a rather unexpected counter-offer which had real genuine value to me. Two entire ounces…now she was the one setting a hefty price with her counter-offer, and it was still in my favor. Her desperation was showing its truest colors in this moment and I would have been entirely brain-rotted myself were I to even give her a moment to question her offer. If anything, she was offering me a tidy discount on the rare metal, and Habaara would be properly recompensed somewhat for how hard she worked every day. Everyone got something they wanted from the situation...so even if it was not at the cost of Rosemary's expectations of free, she was not entirely cut out of the deal for bad behavior yet. My poor luck on the Path was steadily being compensated by hearty gains made at home like a short line of golden dominoes cascading against one another from one good stroke of luck to another.

“Deal.” I said quickly, before feeling a tad merciful in light of her genuine show of desperation and adding, “Two ingots and Habaara gets the full five Royales. Do that and you'll get two whole Petals for your troubles.”

“T-two…?” She asked hesitantly with restrained excitement. “Y-yes! Deal it is then! I knew all along that you could be a reasonable mare to bargain with!”

“Hmph...I'm not so tempted to say the same towards you but that is neither here nor there…”

In lieu of further wasted breath, I slid the shutter closed once again whilst letting my Guardian unlock the latches holding the door closed. I was going on the assumption that she would hear the bolts unlatching through the door and would wait patiently, rather than assuming I had cut her off once more. I wisely also took a moment to hang several sizable charts to hide my ingredients and cauldron from her prying eyes, lest I give her more indication as to my own project which was best left hidden. With the short seconds I had to hide my work, I did what I could and turned to face the door as the last of the bolts retracted into the door. The charts were from two different, rather contradictory schools of Alchemy, yet the point lay in their size rather than their contents. If anything, it would further bewilder her efforts to snoop about for new gossip to share with the other Sorceresses in the Valley. Either that, or she would think me mad...or perhaps simply guess that I was being deceptive towards her, yet I had every right to be. Whether or not she would actually deign to be so rationally thinking...was entirely a gamble I would have to take my chances with. To further my cause, I even retrieved the canister with the Petals from its small stand and placed it atop a cabinet close by so as to even further reduce her need to look inside the room. I did have the advantage of her attention being solely focused on her promised prize so keeping the entire plant on close retainer was simply smart business planning. Once she had gotten her flowers, she was not to infiltrate even an inch further into my personal affairs for the night. I could only hope her thoughts continued to stay solely focused...

“At last! I was beginning to fear you were pulling me by the tail with that offer…” She sighed heartily with exaggerated relief once the door swung open.

“I’m not in the business of recanting my words unless I am clearly in the wrong.” I replied coolly whilst holding the canister before me for her to observe. “See the product for yourself before you purchase if you so like. As if the aura you felt earlier wasn’t already confirmation enough.”

Her silvery eyes went wide with curious, fascinated wonder as I passed it over into her sparkling royal blue magic. Immediately her voice fell as she began to mutter away to herself in the incomprehensible Thestral language, turning over the crystal-and-silver canister before her eyes as she gazed inside with longing. Missing only a single Petal from a stalk of nearly a hundred-strong, the rows of glowing bell-like flowers were just as entrancing and seamless as ever before...and the poor Thestral Sorceress seemed hopelessly ensnared by its allure. I did not blame her for becoming another victim of its beautiful, enchanting powers as Violet and Topaz both had been equally captivated by it. I myself couldn't help but stare again into the entrancing glow for a few moments as well, feeling tingling sparks of mulled joy firing off inside my head through my enchanted eyes. However, there was only so much staring that I would allow before I had to rather roughly pry it back from her lest she be entirely ensnared by greed and try to claim it all to herself.

“Let’s make this quick. Would rather not let out any more of this thing’s energy on School grounds than we have to.”

“Y-yes…that…would be wise…” She hummed back distractedly as the cogs of her mind visibly spun frantically behind her eyes. “Very well, two Petals for two ingots, as agreed.”

With that she gave a small curtsy before retreating back to her combined workstation which was now much-reduced in size and scope from the last time I had seen it. It took her a moment or two, but before too long, she was already on her way back with a small black velvet drawstring bag floating before her. From it she withdrew two equally small, flat bars of illustrious silvery-white metal which seemed to sparkle like polished, faceted diamonds even when stationary; a true sign of its inherent purity. Now it was my turn to take something offered from her so that I could look it over for myself in closer detail for assuredness in the matter just as I had extended to her first. Lunar Silver was…simply divine. No pun was truly intended by it, I was simply as captivated by its sparkle as she was at the sight of my Petals. I had not lied to Violet when I had mentioned ingots of metal tickled my fancy in ways that had me pawing for my money purse more often than was financially responsible. Whilst jewels held me in the greatest of sway, the shiny gleam of beautiful metals could just as easily spark my own hoarding instinct akin to that of a Dragon. And indeed…the sparkle dazzling my eyes with the delectable, silvery splendor was prickling flashes of happy tingling sensations throughout my mind. The pair of ingots were smaller than even a traveler’s set of playing cards, yet had been finely stamped by the Dominion’s premier mint. One stunning ounce each of 99.9999% pure Lunar Silver as approved by one Ismaril Dinh, Chief Monier of the Prifddinas Mint of the Dominion, located in the heart of the Thestral capital city itself. The Seal of the Crystal Lily, symbol of the Royal Lineage, likewise had been stamped as the Maker’s Mark It was the real deal, I could feel it to my very bones with the gentle coolness wafting off the ingots like a summer evening. Even when kept in complete darkness, the precious metal held a soft gleam of its own giving off just a wee bit of the Moonlight caught within it. Truly it was the perfect substance for banishing away the Darkness which lay beyond the gentle Night…

“I trust those are satisfactory?” She asked after a moment to allow me to gaze away. “I can provide the Certificates of Authenticity from the Mint itself if you so require…?”

“Nay, I know the real thing when I see it and hold it…” I muttered back softly in reply as I held the exquisite little bars of metal before my lusting eyes. “You can feel its power just as well as I can...if not more so. Very well, two Petals for two ingots as we agreed.”

With that, I was so kind as to bring out what Dark Essence remained in the dish from earlier so that she could safely handle the Petals once extracted from their host plant. With no little excitement did she unclasp the four latches on the cylinder before letting the lid swing off to one side allowing the sickly-black Darkness within to start reaching outwards with tendrils of black intent. The silent fear in the back of my mind was quickly silenced as the haughty mare kept her word and only plucked the two agreed-upon blooms she had paid for, taking them into her gentle grasp with utmost tender care. Indeed, she seemed almost…peaceful? As if she had felt a tremendous burden taken from off her shoulders as a new dawn arose on those future prospects she had mentioned previously. In some small way…I suppose I felt glad for her, even if the path towards the moment had been rather fraught with irritations. All the same, we both had what we wanted even if it was not the most orthodox of transactions. And that would have been it…if she had not remembered that which I had hoped she wouldn’t. Streaks of luck had a tendency to end abruptly and without warning after all...

“Did you…perchance…happen to capture its Soul as well?” She asked hesitantly, yet rather expectantly. “Please tell me you happened to capture something so truly rare such as that?”

“No, I lacked a suitable phylactery with which to contain such a powerful Soul. Otherwise I absolutely would have made the attempt given it was easily within my power at the time. But again, that was just not possible.”

“Well why did you not consult with me first before setting out on the Path?? I could have arranged an entire cart’s-load be prepared had I known such would be your quarry on the Path!”

“You seem to be forgetting that I actually tried consulting with you…” I groaned irritably. “However…you never saw fit to answer my request for an audience throughout the entirety of winter. Always poor Habaara had another excuse on your behalf as to why it was never a good time for us to meet… But, knowing you, you will just deny all of this outright anyway…”

“Humph…well I was genuinely busy this past winter I’ll have you know. There is much I do for this School and this Valley that none of you are capable of understanding…”

“Mhm, and I used to wipe Celestia’s sweaty cunt after a trot…” I grunted with a dismissing wave of my hoof. “Get back to whatever it is you’re doing…I think we’re done here.”

“Well…seeing as you’ve no NightShade Soul for me, yes I suppose we have nothing left to discuss at this juncture. Good evening, Frejdá.”

“Good evening, Rosemary. And be sure to pay Habaara as we agreed as I will be following up with her soon.”

“I will keep my word on this, fret not your poor, fettered mind Master Witcher…goodbye.”

At last, she turned away and returned back to her station with her precious purchase gliding gently before her on a bed of magic, leaving me to retreat to the safety of the small lab and seal the door back shut behind me. Graciously, she had seemed most distracted by the Petals themselves and she had not prodded too deeply into what lay behind my charts, nor even managed to truly bring it up. All I could do was pray she didn’t find place in her attention to dwell on it any longer than she already had and leave me in peace. Coming back to my Venom, once the charts were carefully rolled up and slid back into their cubbies in the wall, my desiccated Petal was revealed once more lying upon its little ceramic dish. Even when laying on its side, there was just enough structural material left to allow the lace of dark purple veins to retain its general flower shape. Part of me was in silent tears knowing I would have to destroy such a beautifully delicate piece of art which deserved to be preserved and displayed in a suitably beautiful place. Yet what remained of me knew better than to hold myself back from doing what needed to be done. There was much comfort to be gained by keeping in the back of my mind the simple fact that I had nearly a hundred more still fully intact and safely stored away. Once my mind settled somewhat, I dipped my magic back into the chill mist of Dark Essence before ever-so-gently lifting up the beautifully tangled mess and bringing it directly above my barely simmering cauldron.

Once in contact with the fumes, which were now lightly saturated in the Dark itself, the web of veins began to softly writhe as if alive; sensing the Abyssal energies nearby which would enliven it. Indeed, a faint black mist began to emanate like steam from off the twisting veins of the Shade Petal as it metaphorically began to sniff the air and catch a scent that it liked. It was here one of the most precision-demanding tasks in the process arose, carefully slitting open each individual vein in such a manner as to leave behind but a single layer of cellulose to hold back the dense inner fluids. With a miniscule dull needle of Lunar Silver, I proceeded to lightly drag the tip along each and every vein I could find amidst the mass. The divine-imbued metal cut through multiple layers of cellulose like it were skin under a scalpel with a razor’s edge, until all the dark fluids beneath were only barely restrained by but a single remaining layer of cellulose. Truly I felt an inkling as to what great artisans experienced during the course of producing a delicate work of pristine art. The painstaking thrill which gripped the body when the mind was singularly focused upon an intricate task such as creating a work of beauty and depth. Indeed...despite my profession of being a Witcher, I felt as if I had some inkling as to the majesty true artists experienced in the midst of something they loved and adored. It took countless minutes to ensure each of my ‘cuts’ were as close to the centerline of each vein as I could, making damned sure to keep each of them intact until at last I felt they were ready for the final step. I was not wholly proud of my end product...yet it had been an honest effort and I was ever pressed for time. The tiny clock in the far corner had hardly stood idly by as I toiled away towards the night's majestic crescendo.

“Far from a meticulous preparation…” I sighed softly to myself whilst turning the precious flowery mass over for a second close inspection. “But it'll have to do for now…Istiél preserve me through this, I beg thee…”

I could tell I was a tad nervous about the situation from how I talked to myself, voicing aloud my inner monologue as my mind rambled a meandering path of tired thought. The worst of the stress had blessedly passed with the last of the veins receiving its shallow gash, and yet...I felt little comfort, even with the end in sight. What came next was to dangle the flower directly over the simmering brew in the cauldron and use an equal distribution of pressure around it to squeeze out all the fluids in one swift motion. The pressure balance had to be precise as too much pressure would tear the damned thing apart and introduce polluting cellulose to the Venom, and too little would mean multiple attempts at squeezing. The viscous ‘blood’ of the Petal was almost stupidly sensitive to oxidation with every second spent in contact with open air instantly nullifying many of the toxic compounds I had spent so long building up to. If a second or even third squeeze was necessary…the bottle of Venom may as well belong on the bottom shelf. Not unless I could adequately strain and filter out enough impurities through yet even further processes which each added their own unique points of failure which could entirely ruin everything. It wasn't as if I had already spent hours adding in extra dashes of Quebrith and porous strips of activated charcoal in a blatant attempt to further control pollutants and precipitates.

“Oh please, Gods above and below who would bother to give a damn…just let my instincts prove true…” I pleaded quietly in quasi-prayer before the proverbial altar of Alchemy as my magic formed a tight, complete band around the Petal.

Closing my eyes and giving all spare brain power towards the sensations felt through my telekinesis, I gently tightened the vice and dragged my magic down the short length of the Petal. Every millimeter felt like an eternity as the barely restrained veins all burst in unison as I squeezed them for all they were worth. The feeling of the dark violet fluid trickling thickly over and through the aura of my magic was…indescribably cold, with a boreal chill which sent needles of potent icy pain through me and into my Soul deep within me. Immediately, the emerald eyes of my Medallion flashed visibly green and my Guardian added its strength to my own; dipping its tail in the Essence then embedded itself into my own magic as a sort of Arcane reinforcement. The icy prickling graciously then dulled to a much more tolerable level, whilst my lungs were left bereft of air and my eyes were left watering after the initial experience. An extended swim in an alpine lake would have felt warmer by comparison as its deadly chill sank only as deep as the flesh itself while the Soul dwelt beyond its direct grasp even if it were a casualty all the same. This...was something else entirely, something which left me gasping for air with my mind ablaze with frozen spikes of pain and thought-numbing cold. It was all I could do to hold my tongue and hiss wildly in pain through tightly clenched teeth.

Though the entire experience had only lasted but a few seconds, it was enough to spark distant memories of the Changes in my mind. I had truly underestimated simply how strong the substance was and had forgotten the true level of suffering which came from directly handling Voidkissed materials. While the Petals themselves were dangerous to hold without Dark Essence acting as a safety glove over one's magic, their inner fluids were saturated beyond belief in the Dark power of the Abyss. I had the opportunity to directly handle a Shade Petal in a similar manner to what I was currently undertaking...yet, that experience was well over four-centuries old. I had a scattered few close encounters with further Petals of varying deadly flowers, yet none of those had involved my directly handling it. If anything…I was curious if it was perchance just a stronger strain than any I had ever previously handled. Though as to why that was...I was rather wholly unsure. The best speculation thus far in the Bestiary was that the age of the NightShade had a significant impact on the resulting compounds found inside their Petals. And if Braxia had succumbed over three centuries before…I had slain a very old Spectre. So old as to have seemingly forgotten herself as to the strength of Witchers, even in spite of her own victory over my Feline compatriot. Complacency could hit any Sentient race it seemed, regardless of if they were Daemon or not. I could only hope to avoid such a fate myself...

With one motion, the coagulating mass of dark violet fluid was dipped directly into the contents of the cauldron to dissolve under the caustic agents already brewed in. Extricating my magic from the stuff was not nearly as simple as any other substance, being much more akin to trying to wash one's hooves of pitch tar or pine sap. It took several long dips below the surface before the bulk of the material had dissolved away and the last chunks fell away in small clumps, but once free I promptly returned to stirring the glass rod once more. Eighteen rotations clockwise, ten counter-clockwise, fourteen clockwise, then five rotations counter…the pattern for each step changed alongside the number of extra drops of Warped Basilisk Venom to further raise the relative pH of the brew. Six drops, two drops, five drops, then one…the open page of my little notebook was my only lifeline to remembering each step of the process. I tended to need refreshers on subjects not regularly relevant to my daily work. Had this been a Beast Venom or even an Ogrid or Dracnoid one, the majority of it I likely could have done entirely blindfolded like it were a solo outing with the Pendulums. Hangmare's…there was just no reason to keep such a Venom on my person, let alone to brew it oft enough to memorize every detail of the process. The base Oils were on quick retainer in my memory after so many centuries on the Path, yet on principle alone I refused to try and commit the recipe to the same place in my mind. Besides…it was healthy for the mind to try and follow a recipe step by step from time to time like if I were a young Witchling all over again.

With the introduction of the tar-like ‘blood’ of the Shade Petal, the concoction had turned away from the desired shade of deep emerald to that of a sickly purplish-green. Whilst still highly potent to any open wound, there were going to be free radical molecules aplenty I would need to nullify, else the Venom could exceed its bounds and call more upon the Abyss than was necessary. Individual organs, or even the brain and Soul itself could be extensively mutated and twisted by the Abyss like unto any other living creature by virtue of it literally filling their veins. The toxic glycosides were all I needed, which necessitated the addition of those extra drops of Basilisk Venom as the highly-reactive substance formed bonds with the free radicals, thus removing them from the equation. The process for adding these drops was similarly a game of attention to subtle details and precisely calculated additional ingredients. Those subtle changes in color and consistency where my only guide rail for the process and the next hour or two continued to see me hunched over my brew making meticulous movements as I brought it all back towards the proper dark shade of green. Ever greater did the fumes grow in intensity until I could scarcely keep my face anywhere near the cauldron lest my nose cascade with snot and my eyes water over till I was blinded by them. Only when I donned a specialized fume mask did the symptoms finally subside, even if the inside would require an extensive cleaning after the fact as my muzzle was still messy even after multiple attempts to wipe it down.

The fruits of all my toil finally began to blossom and bloom most beautifully indeed as at last the proper dark shade of emerald green was attained. Tinted near-pitch black, the thick, oily substance possessed a soft metallic sheen of purple silver imbued deep into its foundations, courtesy of the violet silver nitre used earlier. The dense, curling fog coiling off the surface of the brew likewise found its dark green hues tinted lightly by that same silvery purple sheen which made it sparkle coldly in the white crystal light. Indeed, there was a definite Arcane sheen or glow to be found deep within the brew and its fumes which seemed like tricks of the light until I commanded the crystal lighting to dim somewhat. Once not so washed out, that same glow became quite noticeable indeed and traces of the enchanted pollen seemed to yet emanate from the substance, powdering the floor like a patch of morning mist on the School lawns. Even in spite of the vacuum produced by the portal above, these newest fumes were most reluctant to be moved by mere air current alone. Knowing the sensitive energies associated with it, I simply set one of the bars of Lunar Silver upon the center of the floor to which the pollen fled away from as if repulsed. Indeed, the effect was much like unto watching drops of potent soap touch grease-riddled water as the pollen fled away from the bars of Silver. Once displaced and up into the air, the draft sucked in from a one-way vent above the door frame took hold of them, and whisked them away into the vortex for disposal. After the second bar was placed on the workstation table near unto the cauldron, I was granted the chance to take off my mask as the air cleared and remained so of any debilitating fumes or pollen. Once that was all done, the only thing that remained was to strain and filter it one last time before bottling up what I had spent so many hours to produce.

Straining the Venom was a straightforward procedure by preparing a sieve of metal above a suitably large borosilicate beaker and carefully pouring the hot fluid contents from one container to the other. The cauldron itself came with four narrow spouts molded into the lip of the rim at the four ‘corners’, perfect for pouring out any brews with ease. The tight aluminum mesh of the sieve performed the bulk of the legwork when it came to removing any larger particles that may still remain even after a few doses of Quebrith for clarity. What bits of matter remained trapped in the mesh were rather small and mostly too pickled by the Venom to be recognizable on sight. Yet, it could be more than safely assumed that it was all a menagerie of what ingredients hadn't fully dissolved yet for whatever reason. Including any leftover cellulose from the abundant organic plant matter used, and odd crystals of contaminated silver chloride, fluoride, acetate and other silver-based salts which dried into peculiar formations when removed from solution. These crystals had a tendency to form in any Venoms or even Superior Oils or Potions which might feature silver as an available agent for multiple free elements or complex chemical chains to bond with. Typically these were waste products which could optionally be captured for refinement and reuse, yet by-and-large could be disposed of if so desired. However, given the use of Warped Deathbell to produce the violet silver nitre, I opted to retain any and all insoluble salts for future reprocessing. Having been imbued by the Dark, they would make for fine ingredients themselves for specialty elixirs as might require violet silver compounds such as mine had. After several minutes, the last of the thick Venom trickled through one of the narrow spouts, over the lip of the cauldron and through the sieve into the beaker below now free of many of its pollutants. Fine-nosed tweezers assisted me greatly in transferring what larger crystals I could find, whilst a thorough rinse with distilled water flushed out what was mixed in with the other pollutants and simply wasn't worth salvaging.

Already, the simple act of straining had increased the clarity of the dark green Venom settling into the large beaker it found itself contained by. Once the sieve was thoroughly rinsed clean from its previous use, the same transfer of liquids occurred once again. Only this time, a patch of tightly woven Thestral silk was layered on top of the metal mesh whilst the weight of the substance seeped itself through the fibers and into the second beaker. This process was then itself repeated a further four times with four fresh beakers, each time with one more small patch of finely woven silk added onto the sieve to further increase filtration. Come the final layer, the use of a small specialty pressing device was required in order to fully squeeze everything through all the layers of filtration. Kept in a small cupboard, there were a variety of sizes available depending upon the size of the beaker used. Though the borosilicate crystal glass was hardy and rather resistant to shattering, the press devices all came with a metallic frame which housed the glassware and evenly distributed the weight across itself rather than on the glass; the sieve resting atop the metal frame rather than directly on the glass. The press itself, operated via a single lever like unto the cork press found in the distillery further down the Valley, squashed a large, semi-rigid bit of shaped rubber firmly down into the sieve. Pressure was then continuously applied to the small lever as the Venom was squeezed through the layers of silk until the last drops trickled into my fifth and final beaker. The patches of silk were of such fine quality that a few washes in some chemical solutions and water would render them clean and ready for reuse by anyone else in need of their fine-filtering services. Of course, that was not until after they'd been allowed to dry and what remained caked onto them was dusted off for its own cleaning and reprocessing.

At long last…my Hangmare's Venom was finally, and most graciously, complete to the last. The charged particles of various branches of the Arcane mingled together in Alchemical equilibrium with one another, bringing together all their combined strengths as one. The silvery sheen within the brew shifted and shimmered softly amidst the depths of dark green, seemingly of its own accord as no fire bubbled it up nor any tools stirring the mixture. A wide, glass evaporating dish was placed over the mouth of the beaker with a thin dusting of powdered silver in order to hold back the dense, toxic fumes which never ceased to eek off the surface of the Venom. All that was left for me now to do was to find a selection of fitting vials and flasks for both individual use as well as the containment of whatever was leftover afterwards. I had most knowingly brewed much more than was necessary for the single dosage Violet and Topaz requested. I too desired to have some prepared for myself, but particularly for any others who may have such a need and were willing to pay. As long as the wax seal was not compromised prior to proper use, I could expect several years of shelf stability for each and every bottle leaving my care. There was nothing overtly illegal about myself or any other Witcher possessing Hangmare's Venom on our persons; even its very existence was something only really taught to Witcher Adepts and above. Rumors of its existence existed, yet usage of such a brew had been exceedingly rare at Kaer Solaris and typically self-brewed by the one in need of such a potent substance. That all being said of course…the rumor mill would inevitably catch wind of the truly special Venom I had just slaved hours to produce through careful preparations. There would undoubtedly be more potential customers like Violet in the future if I weren't careful…

My selection in crystal phials and flasks was rather modest given the cramped confines found within another small cabinet built into the stone wall. More options existed in the extensive cabinets of the central Laboratorium, however, the specialty-built wooden brackets within still provided an immediate selection for my present needs. Like unto the more fanciful glasswork employed in the containment of Arcane ingredients, we Witchers all seemed partial towards using items with a more decorative form than a simple bottle. As such, even the modest stock of small to middling phials took on fanciful angles, bulbs, and notches in their shapes; one shaped like unto an elongated diamond catching my eye in particular for the deadly duo’s personal use. The residual heat in the Venom allowed it to pour smoothly from the beaker and through a ceramic funnel into the chosen phial, coming to a stop just a few hairs away from reaching the neck. My magic was sufficiently strong enough to pop a tiny cork into the neck before hot red wax was drizzled atop, sealing it all shut using a small waxing kit nearby. Once finished, I took several long moments to hold the finished product aloft so that as much light could be cast upon its finest details as possible. Again I was entranced by the softly churning sea of violet-tinged silver swirling aimlessly amidst the exceedingly dark green, seemingly glowing from within as it danced before my eyes. A burning fire of pleased passion blossomed in my breast as I stared away at the fruits of my labor at long last. Even in spite of what it was intended for, my Mentor would have been most pleased with how I had conducted myself over the course of my brewing. I only knew it from the sheer intensity of the feeling…as its strength was most certainly beyond the scope of my own capabilities, but rather felt like borrowed strength from someplace else. Someone else.

My first bottling now sufficiently complete, I forced my eyes to peel themselves away from the enchanting elixir to focus once more on bottling up the rest. Several more phials identical to the one I'd chosen for Violet found themselves similarly filled, corked and waxed shut as a preemptive measure against any individual sales that may approach in the future. The rest of the Venom was unceremoniously dumped into a spare tall-necked flask taken from a shelf of spare glassware and corked with a temporary rubber stopper. I had taken up more than enough time in the Laboratorium and now, all I craved was a couple pints of hard cider at the Crosswinds Inn just up the stairs from where I had already been all night. As such, what remained was put away as lackadaisically as I had, given I would return at some later date in order to more properly disseminate it between smaller bottles. Until then, the large titration vessel was more than suitable for temporary storage within my quarters. With the Venom safely tucked away in its various bottles, my next course of action was to set about cleaning up after myself in full. Despite having tried to keep on top of the cleaning as my instruments were dirtied, various substances required stoppers or otherwise needed to be disposed of down the chute in the floor. The cauldron and some other bits of glassware likewise were in need of a cleaning and a rinse after what I had put them through, and I set about making right what I had used. After all that was finished, I pilfered a small scrap of parchment from a stack of note paper and proceeded to write out some simple instructions in the form of a short letter for the duo. Given I was rather unfamiliar with the typical dosage requirements for something like this, I had my best guess based on experience to rely on for some sort of solution. And, in the case it was read by someone not involved, I tried to be at least somewhat covert in my choice of words.

‘Violet, this should be worth your coin and then some! Like I told you earlier, I have little clue as to how this stuff will work, but I guarantee success within at least two drops if applied directly to any food source. Maybe one, but we don't want to overdo it either so play it by ear, not by retribution. Any basic laceration should be sufficient with a very light application, but that could speed up the onset of symptoms being introduced directly into the bloodstream so proceed with caution. I might advise distance be established and as minimal an amount as you feel you can get by with. There will be plenty left over for you to use at your discretion later so this is a big test of trust, Violet. If you can follow that much, you should be guaranteed a window to get to the High Road in good time. I expect a full report when you get back regarding how well it worked so I have proper feedback for any other phials on hoof since others will come knocking eventually for some of their own. That, and I’ll want another guarantee that you will be extra careful regarding its further use once you inevitably choose to do so again. It’s not like you’d go off and waste it all in one go…right? You better not.

Expecting ample gratuity for all this shite,

-Frejdá.’

Once the final stroke of the bit of charcoal flowed off the diacritic at the end of my name, I sat back deeper again in the folding stool which graciously supported my tired weight. Rather lazily, I proceeded to wrap my message around the diamond-shaped bottle intended for them before sealing the overlapping bits of parchment shut with a wax seal from the kit. Their commissioned order finally completed, along with a suitably fine aesthetic to match my efforts, I was free to requisition one of the simple Potion satchels made of cured leather which hung on a hook for temporary use. Seeing as my own Alchemy satchel was close to capacity as it was, the extra capacity was necessary in order to transport the other bottles of Venom I had already prepared. Not only those, but the large titration vessel housing what remained of my Venom from the cauldron was far too large to fit in what I had on me already. Graciously however, each spare satchel on the hook was available to any with such a need, so long as it was returned within a week. Else, like in all things pertaining to the Laboratorium, Paladin Thistle would have my hide skinned from off my body and roasted over an open fire in penitent sacrifice for my grievous sin. Each phial found a cozy pocketed home under the protective flap of the spare satchel and even the large flask awkwardly fit its way inside as well; the long neck poking out a tad from under the flap and out to the side.

Overall though, my choice in flask was still more than suitable for my current needs, and in my present haste to vacate the lab at long last…I was more than content with what I had to work with. It had been a long night...but there was such a feeling of satisfaction burning in my chest that I couldn't help but allow myself a quiet pat on the back for my hard work. As hearty of a all-night push as any I had undertaken in order to cram for my exams back in the day. All I needed now to solidify my small victory was to finish packing up to leave, clean up after myself like a good Witcher, and get a damned fine bite to eat. And I knew exactly where to find a place open so late into the night that just so happened to serve some of the best chow in the entire goddamned Valley. That...and I was in need of another friendly face or two after my interaction with Rosemary. I had come out a damned lucky mare, all things considered as far as Rosemary was concerned, and yet I still found myself mentally and emotionally exhausted from it all. It wasn't all bad though...I still had my hefty purse of coin from Violet and the blessed presence of the Lunar Silver could be felt even through the velvet pouch they rested inside. Was all of this worth missing out on several hours of sleep...? I'd yet to fully decide on an answer to that one...

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