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

Making a path back to the Laboratorium was a rather swift affair from the Baths as the underground passages beneath the School allowed for quick access back to the main stairs leading further underground. With evening slowly approaching, the light produced by the alcoved lanterns in the passages were beginning to glow brighter to compensate for the dying ambient light outside, and we approached the bottom landing of the stairway in amicable silence. Given the sheer value of all the various contents inside, the door to the Laboratorium was made of one solid-cast plate of steel sporting a small shuttered window in the upper center behind a mesh cage of sturdy steel bars. During active School hours, we would’ve been able to simply knock on the door (fairly hard of course) and speak with Paladin Thistle Briar, Chief Alchemist of the School, through the barred window to gain entry. The exterior was further studded by thick, ‘dead’ doornails made of a blue-green Dimeritium alloy to ward off any attempts to blast the door with magic, while the mighty locks lining near either door frame neither required, nor even used a physical key. As such, one needed to present their Medallion to the enchanted locks and have their Guardian reach out and touch them in order to unlock the door; something Violet saw to as the orange glow of her Fox Guardian manifested from her Medallion and batted each of the locks individually with a paw. With the locks storing a registry of which Medallions were currently active and valid, each one clunked loudly as the deadbolts were turned and unlatched from their armored housing in the doorframe, much like unto a vault safe being opened. As the last of them softly shuddered the door as they were unlatched, we each took a step back as the hefty object swung outwards to receive us; an acrid smell already in the air which stung the eyes somewhat and softly pricked at the nostrils. Someone was hard at work it seemed, and whatever it was did not seem to be going particularly well for them judging by the smell. Unless of course, it was an acidic compound they were working with/on, in which case that likely was the desired result, or at least close unto it.

The Laboratorium was more than one single, large hall as found in most other Schools, but rather a collection of smaller rooms all gathered around one massive central hall reminiscent of the Hall of Pools we had just come from. Some of these side rooms were closed off behind further reinforced doors for private and/or specialized use, while others remained open, acting as extensions of the main lab for extra workstations, equipment, or storage. A permanent portal, much like unto the smaller, temporary one cast by Vivian for the Table of Testament, hovered as a swirling vortex of black trimmed in orange at the peak of the vaulted ceiling. Tasked with the same purpose, it remained always active when the room was occupied to whisk away all foul fumes as might be produced by any harsh recipe or a brew gone particularly wrong. The spell gathered its strength from a colossal polished sapphire which was regularly charged with Arcane power and embedded into the ceiling as one with the stylized architecture around us. The hall itself was home to the most expansive (and expensive) Alchemy laboratory within a thousand leagues, save perhaps for whatever elaborate laboratory Her Royal Arsehole had secretly arranged in order to mutate her Witch Hunters using our methods. The finest glass-blowers amongst the Dragons had been given custom commissions to fabricate our exquisite borosilicate-crystal glassware in centuries past, and one would be hard-pressed to find some piece of expert-level equipment which we lacked for the craft. Of course, we had all the standard equipment any private lab or University would possess and many more besides; test tubes and boiling tubes, multiple types of flasks for storing, boiling and the titration of fluids, beakers, funnels, pipettes, condensers, extractors, burretes, graduated cylinders, alembics, and so much more. Of equipment, each work table came standard with a sizable crucible and a selection of cauldrons for brewing, a mortar and pestle of solid white marble, a small sectioned wooden chest storing all manner of metal and glass tools, a set of finely-tuned brass weights, and various stands, clasps, tubes, and other infrastructure as needed for the support and connection of up to dozens of pieces of glassware at once. And indeed, though most glassware had been cleaned and stored away in various cupboards from the day's work and lessons, one massive workstation still yet functioned on like nothing had happened; likely more than ready to burn the midnight oil judging by the scope of glassware present even this late into the day. Indeed, it seemed that half the Laboratorium’s entire inventory of equipment was currently being heavily used as part of some grand-scale experiment which comprised so many ingredients even my nose could not name them all.

“Who goes there?!” Called out a haughtily-accented mare's voice from behind a wall of dangling glass filled with colored, bubbling fluids. “Who disturbs my precious research past School operating hours??”

“Is that…?” Topaz groaned under her breath behind me before our suspicions were proven correct as Rosemary, the Sorceress Supreme herself, poked her head out from around her work with a look of fury in her gaunt face.

“You! How dare you enter here during my allotted time alone in the Laboratorium?” She scoffed towards Violet in particular, jabbing an accusatory hoof in her direction. “Whatever petty Alchemy you lot wish to perform with your mediocre talents shall have to wait until my work has come to full fruition! I have this space reserved until tomorrow's lessons begin and not a moment less! Begone with ye already!”

“Oi! Have some respect for your elders, Rosemary.” I huffed back at her indignantly. “I was brewing Potions and casting Signs before you were even conceived in the womb, so spare me thy prattle on this matter.”

Her silver, cat-like eyes narrowed somewhat upon catching sight of me tagging along behind Violet, who herself was absolutely dead-set on her objective which lay ahead. The Sorceress Supreme and I had yet to see eye-to-eye with one another on much of anything, yet she knew better than to parse specifics and bog us down with semantics over what I'd said. To the inexperienced, Thestrals were somewhat unnerving beings to stand in the presence of as their appearances were like that of a typical Equine, yet their bodies were gaunt and bony, with high cheekbones, sharply pointed chins, and an overall somewhat emaciated appearance that had them routinely be mistaken for being Vampiric in origin. Looking far more alive than any corpse however, Thestrals nonetheless appeared nigh-unto walking, talking skeletons that still yet possessed skin and some lean, yet surprisingly powerful, muscle mass. As the seeming nocturnal counterpart to the day-worshiping Highland Valkyrie, they too were possessed of a pair of wide, leathery wings which shared a similar appearance to that of a Dragon. Despite having them however, one could be forgiven for forgetting their existence entirely as few found regular use for them outside of their dedicated martial class. They also possessed such short fur that it blended with their natural dark blueish-purple skin coloration, making it seem that they were almost entirely devoid of hair. In stark contrast however, their tarnished silver manes and tails, always lusciously long and thick by comparison, often trailed along the floor if not held back. Their eyes likewise were usually the hue of polished silver or pale sapphire, though some could also be born with midnight blue or dark violet; their irises naturally cat-like like unto any Witcher due to living beneath deeply shaded woods with a more nocturnal lifestyle.

Rosemary herself, as per her esteemed position, was generously robed in an illustriously embroidered silken dress of plum and burgundy, complimented by an exquisite black lace around the neck and cuffs. Along with her voluptuous dress, which admittedly complimented her natural complexion, she also sported multiple kinds of enchanted jewelry at once; graceful earrings of silver and jade, multiple necklaces and bangles of gold and assorted gemstones, and a graceful enchanted diadem of moonstone and platinum in a place of prominence upon her narrow brow after the fashion of her people; an artifact imbued with Lunar power which allowed the wearer to walk beneath Sunlight unimpeded. Instead of continuing to overreact however, she coolly dropped her tone and seemingly tried to act as if our presence now meant nothing to her. Much unlike before, wherein she was ready to cast some mighty bolt of otherworldly lightning, or whatever other punishment she saw fit to inflict on any would-be intruders. It was far from a convincing display, yet if she was able to delude herself with her performance…we could have frankly cared less.

“Ah…well, at least one of you three are qualified to be in here after hours without Paladin Thistle’s supervision…” She sighed with an exaggerated roll of her eyes in contempt. “Very well…by what leave do you escort these…troublemaking fillies…?”

She was making her distaste for Violet and Topaz exceedingly apparent, with only the vaguest amount of begrudging respect held in reserve for me. Still, I refused to engage the testy Sorceress in any form of verbal sparring as all we needed was a quiet room far removed from her and her precious experiment. Whatever it was…

“By my own goddamned right as a Master of this guild, thank you very much…” I responded flatly, nodding towards the shut doors hiding one of the private work rooms. “Or need I remind you that the School hosts Masters of the Arcane as guests here and you are not officially counted as Instructors, but advisors in a paid capacity given our limited grasp of the Power. We only need one of the annex stations for what we're doing. Outside of collecting the glassware, we'll leave you and whatever it is you're working on well enough alone. I believe that should be fair enough for all of us, yes?”

“Humph…” She huffed again whilst glancing back towards her experiment. “Very well…but keep your voices down, dammit. If this alembic boils over because I had to deal with you lot I-”

“Will shut the fuck up, and deal with it like a big mare.” Violet groaned with a bored sigh. “Why don't you go and do that already, or that shite's going to boil over anyway. We'll leave you the fuck alone if you leave us alone. Deal? Deal, we're done here. Common, let's get going…”

A pale pallor slightly hit Rosemary's dark complexion and the vertical slits of her irises became pencil-thin slits of restrained anger, yet…she was able to somehow keep her cool in the moment. Rather, she promptly stomped away back towards her expansive workstation which was actually three separate stations all being occupied at once by her expansive undertaking. While any such experimental project as undertaken by one of the truly Arcane-gifted was surely to be a spectacle, I had little interest after she had seen fit to immediately ruin the mood with her behavior. All the same however, she kept her mouth shut (outside of muttered grumbles which were drowned out by the noise of her equipment) and allowed us to proceed in peace towards one of the closed rooms along the walls. I was also likewise grateful she failed to inquire after just what it was exactly the three of us were attempting to brew in private outside of School operating hours. While I might have been able to bluff our way out of direct suspicion for plotting someone's death with clever word-play, if she knew what lay sealed away inside my Alchemy satchel…

Of the six private workstation annexes, we opted to take one nearest the exit door and farthest away from Rosemary and her precious project. These smaller rooms acted as independent laboratories prearranged with a simple, yet extensive selection of glassware already in place attached to various clasps and retainers built off the ceiling and walls. Likewise, several brackets had been installed for the sole purpose of hanging various charts and diagrams for open display whilst working; small wooden stands likewise at the ready to hold open any tomes as might be required. From the moment we opened the door to our somewhat cramped space for three, a small version of the fume-extracting portal ignited from another polished sapphire set in the peak of the ceiling, whilst recessed crystal lighting sprang to life to greet us with soft white light. With the doorway directly behind us, the rest of the rectangular room was taken up by a set of tables beset by multiple small, tiered shelves which were already bulging with various bottles of prepared substances for our possible use; dried, fluid, gas, and solid alike. Shelving likewise cramped every available space on the walls as larger jars, flasks, and bottles occupied them all, including as well various tomes covering Alchemy in all its forms depending on the direct topic of study. This fine evening, however…we required something not stocked on the shelves as I retrieved the small, battered leather-bound book from a hidden pocket within the depths of my equally well-worn Alchemy satchel. Though rather tiny, and fairly unassuming like unto a humble traveler's book of prayers, it housed my own notes on the subject of brewing Venoms. The other Master Vipers likewise had their own private copies, each personalized to how each of us approached the art and typically written using Alchemical symbols to save on space. Any trained Alchemist would be able to glean much from these markings, yet the personal approach to notetaking would ensure a private code was developed which only the writer could translate. My own enjoyed using Dwemish and Dragon runes in the margins so as to further confuse any else who might read it and not be so readily familiar with their alphabets.

The broad strokes of the art of Venom brewing had already been shared with Kaer Solaris for the instruction of all present, student and alumni graduates alike. Though it had been one of our most dearly guarded secrets, the Cleansing had necessitated we all share what we could in order to improve everyone's odds of survival in this turbulent new era. Not only that, but the extra advantages provided by our collective exchange of knowledge were especially necessary for our poor, young Witchlings and exceptional Acolytes. Aside from the simple priceless value that can be placed upon the physical life a Sentient Soul, there had been countless hours and mountains of coin which had gone into all our respective training. We were living investments by our Schools who had been willing to take a chance on each and every one of us who came to their gates seeking training and glory. The quality of the education had hardly faltered nor failed our modern-day, under-mutated students...it was simply that we were unable to make them like we used to, as the saying goes. Try as these newer Witchlings might, they simply were not mutated to the same level as I and my fellows were. And thus…sadly…they tended to join the ranks of the Fallen far too soon. And that was to say nothing of the Acolytes who carried a silver sword and brandished a Pendant by their side. They could fight circles around the average career soldier and cleave many lesser monsters in two, yet they would most definitely struggle and perish against more major threats. And the general threat level across the world was notably on the rise, continuing a sharp upwards trend set by the day of the Cleansing. The Abyss had simply ramped up its efforts too goddamned much since the Cleansing and we were waging a losing war…

Once the door shut tightly closed behind us, the pair of them made their best effort to be as minor of nuisances as they could be whilst I, the most ‘qualified one’ as Rosemary had put it, set about getting all ready. Such a highly potent Voidkissed item was surely bound to bring all of us tantalizing results, no matter what projects I set about experimenting with after I had finished their Venom. In truth, the last time I had the opportunity to even handle such materials was a long, long time in the past when I’d even yet to activate my Medallion, nor even finished my studies as a Witchling on my way to graduation. Voidkissed items of all sorts were considered to be viable Alchemical ingredients if one could manage to grind it into a fine paste with reagents in a mortar and pestle. Not every item which was Voidkissed could be so prepared for Alchemical use (such as a weapon or or other object which were better left whole), however we were lucky that I carried with me something as could be so dried. With some very careful preparation of course. As I glanced over my small tome of Venoms, I was quickly reminded as to the complexity of the task these two had set to me so on-the-spot. Our private lab was well on its way to being adequate for a quick, if careful, concoction of Hangmare’s Venom for them. Typical Hangmare’s Oil was already a somewhat controversial topic of historical debate amongst the Council of Elders given it was exclusively brewed with the intent of inflicting extra harm upon Sentient beings; something already heavily frowned upon and punished harshly. Needless to say, the exceedingly more potent Venom incarnation would have been suicidal to offer to more students at large. As it stood, the recipe instead only occupied my notes and the Venom satchels of the other Vipers who could yet call themselves a Witcher. The Council of Elders knew we had them, knew we even brewed them on occasion...yet no punishments were doled out so long as the Venom was not used in a manner that was against guild regulations. Being exceedingly toxic and full of Dark energy, I withdrew the sealed crystal tube housing the Petals very gingerly from my satchel and placed it upon the table closest to me. Naturally…all our eyes were drawn as one to the tantalizing purple-pink Arcane glow emanating from the plant and flowers within.

“Damn…even the colored etchings don’t do that thing a lick o' justice…” Violet gasped softly as she gazed deeply into the entrancing glow. “Ploughin’ shame something so beautiful has to be so…evil.”

“Well, you cannot say the Petals themselves are evil as it is merely a plant and an ingredient in a NightShade’s creation to boot. No more capable of evil than the carbon, sulfur, nitrogen or any of the other elements which make up you or I.”

“Oh now you spare me the lecture, Frejdá…” She groaned loudly in the somewhat cramped stone room. “Still…I wish I could make that into some sort of light I could keep on a shelf or something…have some lovely ambient lighting come nightfall.”

“Hmm…you know, given the potency in even one of these Petals…that might not be the dumbest idea you’ve proposed yet, Violet. I’ll need to upgrade the canister containing what we don’t use tonight for something more long-term, and with stronger runes for such a display piece. Perhaps as a chandelier of sorts dangling from the ceiling so its light may better be cast about the room?”

“My, my! You’re taking ideas for decoration from me now are you?” She giggled something fierce. “Oh if only I had my own room…but no, I still have to share a room with Tope and four other smelly dumb arses… ”

“It isn’t my fault they still mandate a Heroic Hunt for passage of rank into Masterhood.” I chided back softly whilst doing my best to glance between my booklet and the many, many ingredients already on hoof. “Don’t forget, I took almost two whole centuries to even experience my own. Something that gave my Mentor conniptions as I was almost tied with the longest-standing perpetual Adepts in the entirety of our guild. At the time at least, heh…that was quite some time ago.”

“There she goes, reminding us just how old she is again.”

“And there you go trying to deflect the topic with snarky jests. All I'm saying is a Heroic Hunt can take centuries to manifest for some Witchers. And maybe never at all if Fate deems them the most unlucky of bastards to not have died on the Path already.”

“Ouch…you truly do not have to make it so personal, Frejdá…”

“I didn't, given I waited 187 years for my own and it just happened to be a small problem which only hid above a much bigger issue. Like a cascading avalanche caused by the toppling of a but few rocks at the peak...there was little indication that Hunt would be the one. Regardless, please let me have some time to prepare all this shite for you, alright? Unless you're purposely after making me waste a Petal on some elaborate private joke between you two...?”

“Fine…guess we deserve that… Don't let us keep you then.” Topaz laughed sheepishly whilst Violet rolled her eyes at me and stepped away towards the corner of the room in sulking silence.

With their yammering ceased, I set the specialized capsule containing the Petals upon a small rack to one side of the central table while I continued pulling out and preparing the necessary equipment. The wooden rack had been purposefully-built to the exact dimensions needed to hold these canisters for easy reach and access as other dangerous Alchemical specimens could be safely stored inside one until needed. Ultimately, the goal of all of this was the extraction of potent natural cardiac glycosides as found within native Digitalis plants found naturally in the wild or the stately grounds of a fine estate. Acting as a tremendous brake on the natural rhythm of the heart, digitoxin and digoxin could be used to induce artificial heart attacks in most beings that actually possessed such an organ. As a tool of assassination…one could scarcely ask for better, given the sheltering layers of plausible deniability associated with a naturally occurring medical emergency. Ever more so if the target in question was obese given heart disease was already a well-known taker of lives amongst the laziest of the world’s nobility. To use something like arsenic or cyanide in quantities sufficient enough to kill quickly would induce too many other symptoms which could be recognized and called out by a trained coroner as foul-play. To administer the same in smaller, less noticeable doses until they slowly succumbed would require extensive contact with the target which was simply unfeasible most of the time. Hangmare's Oil was a recipe most Witch Hunters knew all-too-well, and would know to recognize it by scent and sight. The far more deadly Hangmare's Venom recipe however, was unknown to all but myself and those few Vipers as were trained back in Kaer Nathair. And like unto the Specter Venom still residing in my satchel, only a miniscule amount would be needed to bring about the desired results on any given target. Given they had immediately seen fit to rush me onto an accelerated timetable, the end product they requested would hardly be of utmost premium quality…but it would be more than enough to put an end to another of Yonderland’s many bad apples hanging from high places. Once I had finished gathering the necessary ingredients/implements for the task, I took a moment and appraised the lot to see if anything was missing before we began brewing. For something such as this, I refused to use pre-made Oil like the two of them might have attempted as a short-cut to success. Rather, I intended to brew everything from scratch, take it through its maturation cycles till near its peak of base potency, then use that Superior Oil as the base for the Venom proper. It was going to be a long process…but I refused to deliver a half-arsed product, even if it were for an assassination.

“Hmm…filtered Canine tallow, Arenaria, raw Ursine fat, Han fiber, fool's parsley, mandrake root, high-grade Alchemy paste, Bloodmoss, an eye of a Nekker, green mold of the Aspergillus genus, arterial blood of a Devourer…ah, Quebrith. Cannot forget that… I would absolutely prefer that particular ingredient be as fresh as possible... Hel, I would take it all as fresh as possible if we so had the time…this isn't one of those things you wish to rush or produce with cheap ingredients.”

“Are you seriously brewing all this shite from scratch??” Violet whined in dismay, as if she had expected such perfection to be performed within the span of an hour. “We have provisions to prepare and alibis to conjure up! We don't have time to waste watching you all night!”

“Then you should not have pushed for something that requires expert-levels of skill and many days to brew properly. And who said you had to stand and observe the entire time? I am older than both of you combined so I think I am capable of brewing Potions alone and unsupervised. You do know that what you are asking for tonight would typically take three-to-four months to brew to peak efficacy, yes? And that isn't even to mention that timetable is for basic usage, let alone the aging process something like that deserves. I would spend week alone preparing each and every ingredient to be used with utmost efficiency, and then another full month to brew the Hangmare's Oil through its tiers of potency. And all that until it reached the height of clarity and potency before I even began thinking about using it as the base for a proper Venom like this. You are asking me to condense all that into a single evening, and even less than that besides. Just in case I have failed to mention this to you before, that is not a wise Daemon's tail to tickle with bravado.”

"You have, but I don't get why you can't just use a bottle of that prime Oil you're talking about and shortcut it. Surely you still have a stash of your own leftover, yes?"

"I do, yet I am intentionally choosing not to use it because I want to make you a fresh product, Violet! You expect me to use last winter's brew as a base for a fucking Shade Petal? I apologize my friend, but you are daft if you think I will use old Oil for something like this, no matter how well I produced it. I want to control every loose end that something like this could produce while they are tiny and more easily correctable. The potency won't be quite like what it could be if all its stages had the proper time to mature, but a fresh brew of every stage of the process would ensure less possible fuck-ups."

“Look...I get it, you're not getting an ideal deal here.” The purple former-royal pouted ever further. “Can you do this, or not? I'll just take a simple yes-or-no answer for this if you please.”

“Ugh…yes, I can do it, but I won't be proud of how it turns out. Even with the fresh preparation.”

“Will it kill the fucker? And I mean kill. Not wound, not hospitalize, kill.”

“Short answer, yes. But before you cut me off, let me at least warn you that rushing these steps can have any number of unforeseen consequences that can prove most nasty indeed. Even with my best precautions in place and an otherwise perfect brew, there's always going to be an unknown factor at play with something this Voidkissed. Even more so with the short turnaround time you're giving me.”

“That's all I needed to hear then, get to brewing and we'll leave you in peace to work away as you need to, to get rid of as many of those things as you can. That sound fair?”

“Hold up, Vi…what sort of consequences are you talking about? I’d rather be better informed on any potential problems that could arise. We should have a contingency for everything we can.”

“A wise proposal I would say, this is a Tier-1 Voidkissed item after all. As an item that can be infused into a living body with some assistance, that means it will have far wider reaching effects on the victim's biology which introduces its own tangled web of possibilities. With proper refinement and distillation, most of those scary, random effects can be removed, but I simply cannot make any sort of guarantees that none may occur with this one. Out of the list of things I'm aware of…the worst case scenario the Void enveloping the Soul of the victim from within and Warping their minds and bodies into something akin to a Daemon in power. Yet, at the same time, they are also rendered more mindless and violent than even the most crazed Feral in the wild, ready and most willing to kill anything caught nearby.”

“And the School of the Viper knows all this nasty information...how…?"

“Do you really think every science simply spawned into existence on the pages of tomes, charts and dissertations? Please, Violet…trial and error is the great revealer of hazards and triumphs alike in equal measure. Yet…failure tends to make a more ready appearance for most who experiment with the unknown, even if it reveals the flaws in our approach. In the case of my fellow Vipers…let's merely sum it up as some bad experimentation undertaken in the late second century, not too many decades after I survived the Changes. If you have ever seen an old map of Equestria from around that time, you might notice there's a little walled town called Mulberry Dale that used to be near the border of Āider and southwestern Equestria. That region used to be the Principality of...Marshy Meadows was it? Or...did they call themselves a Duchy...? I'll admit it has been quite awhile, but all the same, this town has not appeared on any official maps since around 201, perhaps 202 at the absolute latest. Given what I have already said regarding my School's earliest experimentations, I will let your minds fill-in the rest with everything else that goes without saying…”

“Oh my…” Topaz gasped softly before asking. “Was the victim a Sentient…?”

“Graciously, no. In fact, I cannot say with any certainty if there is record at all of a half-baked Hangmare's Venom using Shade Petals being used on anything, let alone a Sentient. Our Souls are different from Feral species for a reason, and we've all seen what the Abyss can do to mutilate one of our own. Tainting one with something Voidkissed is far from the only means we know to corrupt a Soul to Feral madness…but, it is by far the one with the most violent results that we know of. Picture Lycanthropy, but the victim is unaware they are cursed until it happens and the timing of the transformation is exceedingly sudden, without warning and absolutely everlasting after that moment. A Lycanthrope that immediately becomes an irreversible Feral Werewolf for a tortured eternity until a silver sword cuts them down. Whoever that person had been in life immediately vanishes forever, and an exceedingly rare type of artificial Daemon takes their place they called a 'Qlippoth', a sort of Husk-like shadow creature technically categorized as a 'Cursed' being. However, they are far more pissed off and unpredictable than even blood-mad Fleders, and capable of intense bouts of Dark magic they can and cannot control. Needless to say…I will do all in my power to ensure this brew comes with as few of those sorts of effects as I can manage…but, I refuse to offer any 100% guarantees on this. It is just simply not scientifically possible under the present circumstances and time constraints, I'm sorry.”

“Alright, that’s fine. I can work with that…" Violet muttered softly with a nod of acknowledgement. "We'll leave you alone then to work in peace. Will it be done by first light you think?”

“Gods will you just shut up already, Violet? What you’re asking for is a lot more than you usually do for these little jaunts of yours. I think by this point, I have the right as the brewer and owner of the crucial ingredient to demand some compensation for all of this.”

“What??” She asked incredulously as if I’d cut her at the hamstrings. “You’ve never asked for coin before, why now?”

“Hey, Vi…she’s got a point you know.” Topaz graciously came to my aid as a second voice of reason. “I think she’s right, it’s the least you could do for her. We asked her right at the start of the evening and we’re pushing a really fast timeline on her with little time to prepare.”

“Very little.” I emphasized earnestly. “What you’re asking for will take hours at the very least…I’ll miss the evening meal, midnight snack hour, and a good night’s sleep in my own bed I’ve paid a lot of good coin for. Let us also not forget you cut my warm relaxation in the Baths short as well. That is quite a lot for a mare to give up in one night in exchange for a simple ‘favor’.”

When Violet hesitated to respond, Topaz again came to my rescue by prodding her across the room and sighing, “Oh come on Vi…you told me yourself you’re in this business for the fame, not the money. The trust fund is still earning 15% bi-annually…it’s not like paying her an honest wage is gonna gouge us out of house and home anytime soon.”

“Ugh, fine…” She grunted before pawing around at her waist and retrieving her money purse which, given the sizable fortune they sat on in a secure bank in Keldagrim, was rather hefty to say the least.

“I don’t have a clue how much is in here, but it’s probably enough for whatever this job is worth. Hopefully you find some back-pay for some of my past bullshite in there too. I’ll just close my eyes, toss this your way and leave. Sound good?”

I glanced between her, the purse, and Topaz before shrugging my shoulders and nodding in response, finding her choice a bit of an overcorrection yet I wouldn’t dare say no to a sudden cash injection for honest work. Well…somewhat honest…from a certain point of view.

“I know better than to look at the proverbial gift in the covered basket, deal. As for when to expect it…I’ll do my best to be done by daybreak. Although, by then...I might be considering upping my fee some more if I am particularly haggard come the end of it.”

“If it allows me to kill that pompous sack of shit…” She sighed as she moved past, tossing the purse onto the table before me with a satisfying symphony of jingling. “I’ll double whatever’s in there and maybe some more besides. You enjoy beautiful jewelry like any Lowlander, right?”

“Oh...well, yes.” I admitted somewhat bashfully as I rarely wore any outside of my Medallion. “Though I am more partial to the actual jewels themselves, both rough and cut. The metal settings are nice as well, yet I find myself much more interested in them in an ingot form than a jewelry form to be honest.”

“That so? Have you ever considered you might be part Pygmy then? Hmm…well, I’ll let you take one or two things from my collection if all this goes well. I know that one with the fire opals always catches your eye.”

“Heh, you noticed my wandering gaze eh? Very well, this is sounding much fairer than it was before. As for having any Pygmy blood in me…I highly doubt that. My kind have always had a deep, fond love of gemstones right from the start. Mares and stallions alike will adorn themselves with many of them if they are able to afford them, or find stones as fit their tastes. Thestrals too are of a similar mindset and we trace our lineage back to them just as strongly as we do Highland Valkyrie, who themselves have a light obsession with gold and jewels. Regardless...I digress. I will try my best not to let you down with this brew, Vi. For all our sakes...the last thing we need is the bastard surviving the attempt and tripling the watch from here to Yonderland.”

She smiled as she raised a hoof to open the door leading out and replied, “You’ve come through every time before now, Frejdá. I’ll only start doubting you when you give me a damned few good reasons to stop being so trustful. I will see to the particulars regarding the actual application of your product, just leave it in the usual place when you're finished. Good luck, and I mean it. We’ll have someone send you down some food and drink too, it’s the least we can do for taking you from a good hot meal.”

“Send for some Mother’s Lacquer too while you’re at it.” I smirked softly. “And a jug of something to cut it with so I’m not brewing half-drunk.”

“How about we just send one of the serving staff and you can give them a list of what you’d like? As a Master, you’ve some right to that every now and again.”

“Indeed I am and indeed I do. However, given I took my own laundry down to the Servant’s Courtyard this morning, I don’t think I wish to bother one of them with something so petty as fetching me some food. I think you two are more than capable of doing it on your own, the young, big, strong mares that you are.”

Violet rolled her eyes again, saying nothing as she brushed past me and out of the small annex lab. Topaz gave a mouthed apology before tagging after her leaving me entirely alone at last. If…somewhat regretting my decision to help given my body now fully remembered the comfort of my own bed and subsequently craved it. Once the door shut fully closed behind them, I once again took stock of all my supplies and equipment as, once I started, I wouldn’t have many opportunities to dash away in order to find one small item or another. With the two of them no longer taking up space in my attention span or workspace, it soon became clear that the lab was severely lacking in the proper amount of Void Salts I would require. An unusual substance, and indeed heavily associated with the so-called ‘occult’ used to refer to anything Abyssal by the unlearned, it nevertheless was paramount to the safe handling and processing of Voidkissed items. Given these Salts were a dangerous Arcane substance in their own right, it took exceedingly advanced equipment to produce which even we didn’t possess at the School. Rather, was the purview of the Arcane University of Tir Ná Liá and their trained team of Arcane Alchemists who prepared many such items for us. Merchants supplied them regularly with the necessary base ingredients, whilst Witchers and Arcane users outside the Valley collected the needed magically-charged items and bartered with them at the University. Even in spite of the centuries of cooperation between the School and University, the former of which bringing in the coin needed to build the latter, the University remained eternally haughty and loathe to do business with the outside world. They needed us just as much as we needed them, and yet Thestrals seemed intent on remaining stubbornly unchanged since their beginning.

The cost for all these ingredients, amongst the literal hundreds of items we used in our Alchemy, was taken out of the School’s annual budget. Our current Chamberlain had ensured stability and even a return to some of the prosperity the Valley had once seen, yet if we could supplement ingredients ourselves with something fresh from the Gardens, or directly out of our own supply, we were strongly encouraged to do so. Of course, that was not always feasible as in the case of burgeoning students, or affordable for a cash-strapped Witcher in need of higher quality than a roadside campfire brewing session could provide. That said, a box for the deposit of cash donations towards ingredients used was posted right beside the door leading back to the Upper Courtyard. It was not necessarily mandatory, but with Paladin Thistle’s impeccable skills at inventory, most who failed to pay for their ingredients yet had the means to were quickly sniffed out via the rumor mill. With the hefty purse left behind by Violet, I felt some peace-of-mind in knowing I could comfortably afford the costs of all ingredients used; especially the Void Salts which easily cost an entire Crown and two Orens per-gram by themselves. I was easily going to be making use of at least a half-to-one full ounce of this Salt by the time I was finished. Given it was a rush job, a full ounce was the more likely estimate as I would need more of its mystical effects present to avoid complications during processing. Very few materials were at once Dark enough to easily interact with Voidkissed items, yet safe enough to handle using one's own magic for short durations. It was hardly a common ingredient in most Witcher's Alchemy, yet its niche uses were paramount to my endeavor if it were to proceed smoothly with little risk to myself or others around me. With all my more mundane ingredients all collected and ready in the wings to fulfill their purpose, it was time to depart in search of my more potent necessary items.

Closing the door to the lab behind me, my Guardian seeing fit to seal the lock to my signature, I emerged back into the central hall of the Laboratorium. Once again an acrid stench hit my nose and eyes as the Sorceress Supreme slaved away behind her mountain of glassware, heavy equipment, and metal implements. Graciously, she did not seem to notice me as I passed close by in search of the large cabinet made of pure Thestral crystal bound at the seams in silver with polished doors set upon hinges of pure gold. The tall, glass-like icy-blue object was used to safely store Alchemical agents which possessed particularly strong Arcane signatures which could be potentially damaging to any items around them. Sang into form by Thestral magic from a tiny crystal seed, the majestic storage device loomed somewhat over my head as I approached its opaque doors sealed by a large golden keyhole with fanciful engravings carved into it. During School hours, Paladin Thistle acted as the guardian of the enchanted crystal key, and keenly oversaw any and all items leaving this particular space. Of all the varying ingredients, solvents and other chemicals found in the Laboratorium, the contents of the crystal cabinet were considered the most precious and dangerous to use; their use carefully monitored and logged by extensive ledgers. After hours, those deemed qualified to work unsupervised (such as graduated Witchers and masters of the Arcane), could simply gain access via their Arcane signature which was resonated onto official School records for multiple similar uses. My Guardian was so kind as to tap the lock with its tail for me as I approached and the softly gleaming blue-white crystal doors swung open to welcome me with its bizarre contents. The bottles and flasks used by other substances in Potion brewing could be fairly fanciful in their own rights in order to help distinguish them more by sight. However, those housing potent Arcane substances almost always took further liberties with the craft: blurring the line between mere containers and decorative works of art with iconic distinction.

Little of the glasswork on the shelves before me had any true rhyme or reason to the flamboyant shapes they took. The aesthetics of the piece was often the sole purpose of the design rather than having any practical purpose; save of course a few truly exotic items which required particular shapes for proper containment. Amongst the mess, there were coiling, knitted tubes, sharp hollow barbs and rounded horns, fantastical bulbs and dimples, symbols of powerful magic or aspects of Nature pressed into the glass…there was creativity in leaps and bounds behind the minds which first blew these pieces into shape. Within lay items such as Aonian Butterflies, Miranda Power, Void Salts, Sanguine Maiden Hearts, Crimson Glowshrooms, Golem Cores, Warped Death Bell, Glow Dust, Lunar Shards, Solar Sand, Giant Angler Lures, Hespori Sap, Demonic Ashes, crushed Xelosani crystals, and so much else besides. With magic of all forms and persuasions positively dripping off the planet itself, there were many ingredients out there which were touched by Arcane forces. The strongest of these tended to be stored away in this special cabinet, either due to their danger of use, or the exceeding cost associated with the procurement of more. This evening however, all I needed was a large jar of Void Salts, a couple of sealed vacuum tubes of Warped Death Bells, several grams of Leshen Resin, four grams of Vyre Dust, a half fluid-ounce of Warped Basilisk Venom, and a sealed ampule of Dark Essence gathered from a Nightwraith slain at the height of the winter solstice. With an additional pause to stop and get another vial of Devourer blood, after quickly exiting out to the Gardens to acquire what fresh ingredients I could muster, I returned in silence back to my chosen laboratory ready to get to business.

My Petals gratefully sat safely still and untouched within the confines of the specialized container, its enchanting glow emanating from the corner to softly welcome me as I entered. The bulky money purse, weighing easily close to a kilo in precious metal, was tied at my waist alongside my own; the drawstring necessitating many more loops around my belt to hold fast compared to my own purse with its much lighter contents. The table now properly cleared, my Arcane-laced ingredients could finally be set safely down for preparation. When all was arranged in a logical order so I could work away on as minimal brain power as possible, a spark of Igni caught the enchanted coals of the assembled cauldron stand alight. The first step amongst many to follow was the preparation of the progressive series of Hangmare’s Oil forms so that I possessed a base of suitable quality for the Venom. This began with the simplest form of the Oil which only required an ounce of finely-rendered tallow from a Feral Canid species be slowly melted in a cauldron, along with half an ounce of Pygmy spirit with a high ethanol content. The tallow and suet of multiple Feral species could be utilized as quality bases for rendering any form of Blade Oil used in Witcher's work. They worked so well as the substance readily melted under heat, could blend seamlessly with multiple other ingredients, and still retained the correct viscosity to cling to one's weapon even whilst wildly swinging away at opponents. Once the fat had been set to melt at a low heat, a small bowl was filled with an ounce of extremely pungent Pygmy spirit. Following in after were five Arenaria blossoms, the flowers having been lightly bruised by the mortar and pestle immediately prior to being added to the potent liquor. All that remained was to sit and wait for the tallow to simmer and the flowers to soak and dissolve away. The spirit would fully absorb what chemicals I needed, whilst at the same time unlocking their full, lethal potential.

Whilst normally non-toxic on their own, Arenaria flowers contained a compound which, when exposed to the trace ingredients present in high-quality Pygmy herbal alcohols, became a lingering, mild poison in the veins. Given the toxins acted on organs shared between most Sentient species, it was effective against most anyone with enough wits about themselves to wield a sword against you. The time spent awaiting the flowers to entirely dissolve themselves in the alcohol gave me a chance to peel, dice and otherwise prepare what ingredients as would be immediately needed next. Though the base recipe had rather dull fangs compared to the highly toxic formulae utilized by proper assassins, it had been deemed sufficient enough against Sentient opponents. As the recipes had first been penned down in ages past, they had seen no changes to the ingredients listed or the process of preparing and brewing them ever since. The Oil had the benefit of being excessively hydrophobic with a long biological half-life, meaning a blade could be coated once and left that way for days afterwards without any loss in potency. As for leaving such an Oil on your blade for such a long period, that was an entirely different conversation, yet the efficacy of these blends were not to be underestimated. Of course…such a basic recipe was foalsplay, and the resulting brew was only typically given to Witchlings and Acolytes still in training. Sometimes though, it would be produced by a Witcher on an exceedingly tight budget caught with extreme need in the wildlands. Like any other Oil, the ingredients used were specific to the category of opponent one was facing; monster, Daemon, Feral or Sentient alike. Hangmare's Oil was only effective against fellow Sentients and thus was only applied to one's steel sword, being otherwise useless when applied to beings cut by silver. To have but one Oil be universal across all creatures was the dream...yet one as illusive to Alchemists as the so-called Philosopher's Stone. One grew quite used to rotating out which Oils and Potions were needed for each Hunt as it unfolded before them and was honestly part of the fun of preparation.

The bright, forest green Pygmy spirit turned a few shades darker by the time the last remnants of Arenaria had fully dissolved away in the shallow bowl. The tallow itself had been a creamy, off-white color whilst at room temperature, yet now had turned near-clear when melted down and readily accepted the green coloration of the other ingredients. Compared to what came later, producing the basic form of Hangmare's Oil was a rather quick process from start-to-finish. The initial recipes for most Blade Oils were intentionally kept short and required few steps or ingredients by design. After all, they were to be so simple that any student worth their salt could produce them in the wild with nothing but the raw ingredients, a campfire and anything bowl-like that could be heated without breaking or burning. If a Witcher couldn't scrounge up even those, or functionable facsimiles out of whatever was available to them, they could scarcely be fit to call themselves one of our number. There were entire semesters of wilderness survival lessons dedicated to applying those survival techniques to in-field Alchemy alone. Despite the quality and scope of equipment we were issued, we could never be guaranteed to have immediate or direct access to it all at all times during our lives. Grave injuries, capture, freak accidents, formal occasions where such equipment is not allowed, and various other means could ensure a Witcher was cut off from most of, if not everything, they grew to rely upon. Even our very blades could be stripped off us by calamity and misfortune, yet all the same we were expected to overcome the odds with the talents we had been taught and survive through to the bitter end. Unless of course multiple streaks of bad luck had rendered all of this utterly impossible for some reason…but that was rarely the case, even for Witchers constantly plagued by foul odds.

Once the softly simmering brew had turned a soft, clear forest green giving off curling fumes of a similar color did I suspend the cauldron some ways above the stand, making use of a built-in apparatus which could be locked in place. The so-called ‘Enhanced’ recipe for Hangmare’s Oil used the basic incarnation as a base, whilst a prepared paste of raw, unfiltered Ursine tallow, Han fiber, mandrake roots, fool’s parsley and yet more Arenaria was added into the cauldron one small scoop at a time. All the while, I stirred a small glass rod in long, slow circles around the cauldron with my magic, making sure to keep a steady pace so the added ingredients disseminated evenly throughout the mix. As the rod made its slow rotations around the circumference of the cauldron, and I made it towards the last of the paste in the mortar bowl, the concoction began to morph a shade noticeably darker than before. Likewise, the scent coming off the brew was beginning to make the eyes water and nostrils flare, if only faintly. It was a sure sign that the Oil had begun to render fully, and all ingredients had dissolved properly to impart their Alchemical effects into the viscous substance. Having achieved the desired hue of green, I proceeded to finish with the last ingredient necessary to qualify this Oil as an ‘Enhanced’ brew. Drop by drop, taking care not to think about the smell, the large, slimy Nekker eye was squeezed in the grip of my magic adding every last drop of natural fluids the organ had to offer. All the while, I continued to stir the cauldron and watched patiently as every rotation brought about an ever darker hue to the bubbling light emerald liquid. This step itself took well over five minutes as every last drop was squeezed from the desiccated organ before the remaining, mangled mass was mashed into a paste itself, along with several drops of pure ethanol as a solvent. Unlike the first added paste, this one could be dumped in all at once, but required a much faster mixing pace with the stirring rod to disseminate it more evenly. Almost immediately, the brew turned another shade darker, and the scent grew even harsher on the nose and eyes than before. Despite blinking a light film of tears out of my eyes, I smiled in satisfaction at a job well done. It had been a bit of a rushed job to be sure, but the Enhanced Oil had come to life most beautifully in the cauldron in the second major step in a four-step recipe.

Removing it once again from near-direct contact with the enchanted coals, this Oil had to simmer on a very low heat for a period of at least thirty-minutes. More than enough time for me to prepare for the third, ‘Superior’ version of the Hangmare's Oil recipe which was amongst the high-quality formulae used by learned Adepts and Masters alike. This step required the most (and highest quality of) ingredients, particularly when taking into account the fresh Quebrith I would be creating from scratch especially for this brew. Like with the Enhanced recipe, an emulsified paste of multiple ingredients suspended in a mostly inert, lipid-heavy viscous substance could be prepared ahead of time. Not all of those ingredients needed for Superior Oil would immediately be added to the paste but were rather needed at a later stage like the Nekker Eye. Immediately, I set to work scooping half an ounce of fine Alchemist's Paste into my freshly-cleaned mortar bowl, followed by two-to-three grams each of finely diced Bloodmoss, fool's parsley, and plaques of dense clusters of budding green mold spores. Into this, an eyedropper was used to apply a quarter-ounce of dark magenta arterial blood to the mix collected from a dangerous species of Necrophage called a Devourer; which itself was the superior variant of a typical Rotfiend. As a being of quasi-living carrion, found feasting anywhere there were easy corpses to eat, their blood was positively soaked with the essence of Death itself. From multiple noxious diseases and vile bodily fluids, to the inherently putrid and rancid nature of these corpse-beasts themselves, these killer traits thus made it perfect for use in a Blade Oil such as this. While again, nowhere like unto an assassin's poison, the purpose of Hangmare's Oil was to inflict toxins on any wounds as pierced or cut open mortal flesh. These were to ensure any shallow cuts that otherwise would have only been minor flesh wounds became a debilitating source of damage beneath their armor from within their own bodies. It was...not the most honorable form of combat and as such was reserved for dire situations where such an extra edge was necessary.

The vent overhead whisked away the majority of the noxious fumes and scents of my work, yet all the same I had to swallow a gag or two whilst adding in the horrific stink of the foul monster blood to the mix. When the paste beneath my pestle was beginning to turn blue with a sickly-green tinge, it was prepared enough to allow me to immediately turn my attention to the production of a small but powerful batch of Quebrith. Acting as a major catalyst for the Superior Oil in order for the necessary precipitates to form on the surface, Quebrith was the name given to a sulfur derivative used in many high-tier Alchemical formulae. The recipe used to produce it called for six ingredients; a paste formed from two-to-four grams each of Longrube and Puffball mushrooms, several Pingrape berries, some leaves of Nostrix, and a few blooms of Verbena flowers. Once properly emulsified like the other pastes, the recipe then called for an entire fluid ounce of White Gull to immediately be added, stirred thoroughly, and then heated until the mixture was free of absolutely all moisture. White Gull was an old Witcher's name for an intensively powerful blend of multiple high-quality spirits, typically steeped for months or even years with a diffuser of potent herbs; much like unto a traditional Absinthe, but with much stronger intoxicating effects when consumed. Whilst only drunk by Witchers, and those with exceedingly hardy livers who were intent on forgetting the past and present alike, when applied to Alchemy it acted as a premier base for the most pristine of Potions, and a beautiful solvent in all other cases. The mashed paste of other Quebrith ingredients dissolved readily in the noxious spirit, and after a minute or so of stirring, the pulpy mixture settled in the bowl ready for transfer to a crucible for heating.

Under normal circumstances, a rushed boiling off of the water/ethanol content could result in a less-than-stellar end product, however I knew how to guide the process along without any undue loss in quality. With the coals of the crucible furnace already set to a rough temperature of 105° Centigrade, the mixture swiftly came to a roiling boil within the fiery chamber. Keeping the door open so I could closely monitor the process, I watched as the liquid making a mire of the paste swiftly boiled off leaving a soft bluish-purple mass behind. The moment a dark black hue began to hit the substance, did I remove the crucible dish from the furnace with a pair of long tongs. Afterwards, I allowed it to cool for a short time on a stone stand built out of the workbench nearby the cauldron for observation. Once the substance stopped softly smoking did I promptly reignite it with a miniscule spark of Igni, burning it all thoroughly through until a thick, oxidized black crust formed atop. This crust was then gently picked away by a metal tool to reveal the dark golden crystals of the complex sulfuric compound underneath, a substance early Alchemists had dubbed ‘Quebrith’. After chipping away as much of the oxidized byproducts as I could muster with the tools available to me, a quick rinse with watered-down acetone, followed by distilled water and a quick firing in the crucible, ensured as pure a bed of bone-dry crystals as I could get. With a bit more work with my metal tools, the golden mass was chipped free from the ceramic bowl and into a freshly cleaned and dried mortar dish. From there it found itself repeatedly pulverized and ground into an exceedingly fine sparkling golden yellow powder which smelt strongly of sulphur's iconic spoilt eggs aroma.

With my fresh Quebrith now prepared, it was coming time for it to be added to the simmering cocktail of now almost two-dozen individual ingredients of varying levels of rarity and complexity. The purpose of the powdered Quebrith crystals was to react with trace pollutants within the Oil, and precipitate them on the surface in order to be skimmed off and discarded from the cauldron. Forming most of the impurities to be found in this stage of the concoction, these precipitates were the Alchemist's equivalent to the slag produced whilst smelting and refining raw ores for forging. Given all but a few Alchemical substances could be destroyed by a hot-enough flame, a small chute built under the desk, and triggered by a lever mechanism, was used for the disposal of all waste products. Like the contents vacating the lavatory plumbing, and unlucky assailants within the main gatehouse, these too were ushered down a carved channel down to the heart of the volcano to be buried in the molten heart of the planet. Almost immediately, the lack of those earlier pollutants brought a clear hue to the liquid which had been missing before, and the stinging, smarting feeling prickling at my face was the tell-tale sign I was looking for. Without warning however, a set of three solid thuds rang out through my door as someone attempted to get my attention for whatever reason. Graciously, I had nothing in my grasp at the time, else an ingredient surely would have been spilled or otherwise ungraciously disturbed. As quickly as I could, I disposed of the waste products from the reaction, wiped down my used equipment in ethanol, and suspended the cauldron far above the coals to keep the mixture warm and just barely simmering. With nothing further keeping me, I turned back towards the door and tugged aside the small shutter embedded in the window in the center of the door to address my visitor.

“Uh…occupied?” I said with more than a little confusion through the mesh of steel bars protecting the portal but spying no one outside.

“D-down here, M-Miss!”

Even with my height, I needed to balance upon the tips of my hooves in order to get the angle needed to see the top of the bright golden-furred ears crowning the head of Sorceress Rosemary’s personal Dwemess assistant. Rarely known to stand above a meter tall, the Dwem (or more properly, Dwemari) were the polar opposites to the Örn and had more in common with their equally-short-of-stature compatriots who dwelt below ground, the Pygmies. Preferring mostly the cozy comfort of elaborate underground Kingdoms over living in the open air, the Dwem mostly kept to themselves and their various Underkingdoms scattered about the Continent. Some like her dwelt above ground under the open sky unlike their kin for one reason or another, yet, like unto the Pygmy, their passion was for the bounties of the mountain roots. Being the largest exporters of exquisite gemstones, and known for their astounding mastery of delicate gold smithing, they all managed to do well-enough for themselves. They were quite friendly towards outsiders who gave them no pause for concern and welcomed all guests to sit and join them for food and a cup of a strong, bitter brew of theirs called 'qahwa'. Given she, like many of her people, was such a gentle Soul, I felt no hesitation in promptly opening the door for her so that we could converse far less awkwardly. It was simply rude to do anything otherwise for the little lady and her sense of dignity.

“Miss Habaara! A pleasant surprise, but I do not recall sending for you. Or…anyone for that matter. Is there something the matter?”

“N-No!” The diminutive Griffiness squeaked softly with a bashful hue to her golden cheeks, shuffling her short wings against her white-and-red School robes. “M-Masters Violet and Topaz requested I a-assist you with your endeavor t-this night if I am at all a-able.”

“Oh for the love of…Miss Habaara, I apologize for those two she-devil Adepts dragging your poor beak across the pavers for this. I am alright as I am tonight, I will find a way to compensate for the lengthy hours ahead of me, don’t you fret for a moment dear.”

“O-oh, that’s quite a-alright, Ma’am. Mistress Rosemary is in absolutely n-no immediate need of my assistance for her important work, so my time is f-free until she calls for me.” She replied with a small smile. “If I could make your e-evening here more pleasant, p-please give the word! You are near unto my Mistress so I-I will never be far away if you should so n-need.”

“Heh, well I thank you profusely for your generous offer. If you are to bring food down for your Mistress, could I perhaps request a portion be sent for myself as well?”

“B-but of course! I would be most pleased to be of assistance to you, Master Frejdá! I-if I may so inquire…how long do you intend to tarry down here with us in the Laboratorium?”

“Well, the next couple steps in my process are going to take up the rest of the evening easily. There will be a couple hours here and there where I will be able to leave it to simmer for stretches of time unattended, but that will not be for some time yet. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, just sheer c-curiosity is all, heh. I was going to s-suggest I fetch a t-tome or two from the Grand Library for you in o-order to keep you company through your journey, if you so w-wished.”

“Well that is exceedingly kind of you to suggest, my dear! I suppose I would be unable to say no if you happened to bring by a copy of Of The Void: Kissed By the Abyss by Lord Antonius Dupé...?”

She cocked her head inquisitively at that and I immediately recognized that a studious reader such as her would recognize a memorable title like that, and could possibly make inferences as to what I was doing. Or, more likely, be able to hazard a proper guess as to the contents of the sealed crystal container just out of her view. It was easy to forget such a gentle person was in the employ of a gossip-worshiping Sorceress who was known to use such knowledge to her advantage. A field of traps had suddenly spawned into being in our otherwise pleasant exchange, it was just unfortunate that she of all gentle people was tasked as an underling to such a pretentious bitch.

“I-interesting choice of reading for an e-evening of Potion brewing.” She laughed nervously which only prickled my apprehension further. “W-well, I’m sure I can s-scrounge that one up for you! Is there anything else you m-m-may be needing this evening, M-Ma-am?”

She was usually of a fairly nervous deposition, but even this was a bit much for her normal realm of behavior. Indeed, I questioned how such a soft Soul such as hers could withstand the overwhelming, commanding presence of her Mistress. All the same, I did my best to play it cool and find a natural way to end the conversation without being abrupt or rude to the little Dwemess. The field had been set and now I was to dance my way as far away from it as I could without catching her attention, or worse, insulting her in some way through my haste to retreat.

“No, heh.” I replied with a hint of sheepishness in my voice, though there was some kind of…hopeful gleam to her eyes for a moment as I spoke. “I think the meal and book are more than enough to ask of you, dear Habaara. Thank you most graciously for your offer of assistance!”

She squeaked again softly and gave a deep curtsy in response, doing her best to hide her glowing pink cheeks from view as she replied, “T-think nothing of it! Mistress Rosemary keeps my leash s-short, yet has no present use for m-me. I…find myself r-rather miserable when left without a task which needs d-doing. I thank you for g-giving me some extra purpose this e-evening, Ma’am.”

“The pleasure is mine, heh.” I smiled back at her, causing her to stumble back a tad over her rear paws and blush even harder. “Though I best not tug on your leash too hard lest Rosemary have a pressing need you are unable to immediately attend to as is her wont.”

“Y-yes! That…that would be most w-wise!” She giggled nervously as she glanced over her shoulder towards the mare in question who had yet to make another fiery appearance. “I will return with y-your requests post-haste!”

I gave her my best curtsy in response as well as in recognition of her willingness to serve, even if I wondered in the back of my mind if she were sent here to try and covertly spy upon my brewing process on the behalf of her Mistress. She then took her hurried leave, moving immediately towards the Laboratorium exit as the evening meal was likely already beginning. Regardless of whatever Rosemary had said as to leaving us (me) alone to our Alchemy needs, it would have been highly out of character indeed if she weren’t at least some level of nosy. Truly, Rosemary almost thrived off the juiciest bits of intel she could pluck from the whispering grape vines infesting the School, and the Valley at large. To use her poor, dutiful little assistant for such espionage would hardly be beneath her, and I prayed that she wouldn’t dig too deeply after the subject found in the particular tome I had requested… As if I hadn’t laid it out clearly enough already that I was needing a sudden refresher by the leading (authored) authority on the subject of Voidkissed items. Of course, I could hope for a chance at bluffing my way out of the situation through clever word-play…yet, if she was already cued in, it would be next to impossible to conceal much of anything from her. If anything, I felt terribly sorry for the little Dwemess for being caught amidst the spider’s web of intrigue surrounding her Mistress and her conniving ways. All the same, hushed words beseeching the Gods for mercy from Rosemary's curious ears formed in my breast as I peered across the otherwise-empty Laboratorium towards our Sorceress Supreme. Her fortress of Alchemy was yet unbroken and trickled its various colored fluids down many coiling tubes as some grand process beyond my understanding took shape. Despite my inability to understand her project however, that would hardly stop her from piecing together what my own was all about were she to learn enough details. Only time would truly tell if she would find the time to do so before too long.

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