Quick Potioneering Lesson (1)

Riniock continued experimenting with the dagger, quickly realising that controlling it wasn't as effortless as he had hoped – especially when it moved farther from him.

 He tested its responsiveness, swishing it through the air, propelling it forward in a straight line, spinning it in place, and even making it orbit around him. Each motion required careful adjustments, and the further it strayed, the harder it was to maintain control.

 Satisfied with what little progress he had made, he finally pocketed the dagger.

 'We should head back,' Riniock said as he gathered his belongings. 'I have an important lesson tomorrow.'

 Linry glanced up from her book. 'An important lesson?'

 'Apparently. If I recall correctly, all members of the expedition are required to attend without exception.'

 'Well then, you'd best be off. I'll leave when I'm finished here.'

 'Alright,' Riniock said, making his way towards the exit. 'See you later?'

 Linry turned, offering a small smile. 'If fate permits.'

 With that, Riniock returned to his dorm, got a good night's rest, and prepared himself for the lesson ahead.

 For most of the year, his classes had been held in familiar lecture halls. This time, however, their guide led them somewhere entirely new. They wove through a labyrinth of lush greenery – towering trees, vibrant flora, and dense foliage that made the area feel like a sanctuary for maegis. Then, passing through a vast vivarium, they walked alongside a variety of creatures housed in carefully maintained habitats, each one more fascinating than the last.

 At last, their destination came into view.

 The path led them to the darkest corner of the area, where a long, spiralling staircase plunged deep underground. As they descended, the air grew damp, thick with the pungent scent of moss and mould.

 Eventually, their guide came to a stop before a massive zosphyrite-reinforced door.

 'Here we are,' he announced. 'Your next lesson takes place inside.'

 Niann eyed the door warily. 'This looks more like a dungeon, sir.'

 'That's how the professor prefers it. Stop complaining, Nodahr and get inside.'

 The guide extended his hand towards the lock, twisting his palm in a practiced motion. A faint chime resonated through the air, and with a deep, mechanical groan, the zosphyrite door swung inward.

 Beyond the threshold lay a vast chamber filled with heavy stone tables, each cluttered with an assortment of alchemical tools. Alembics, phials, tubes, and glass compartments stood in haphazard arrangements, accompanied by aludels, mortars, crucibles, and cauldrons of varying sizes.

 Some vessels held bubbling, churning liquids in hues both vibrant and ominous. Others contained thick residues, crystalline solids, or raw components waiting to be refined. Wisps of colourful gases coiled through delicate tubing, their eerie glow reflecting off the polished glass.

 The acolytes stepped inside, their expressions shifting to awe as they took in the sight.

 Flanking the narrow corridor they passed through, towering shelves, pantries, and drawers lined the walls – each brimming with an eclectic collection of ingredients. Extracts from flora, fragments of exotic beasts, and even remnants of sentient beings lay neatly categorised, waiting to be harnessed for arcane experimentation.

 'One word of advice – Professor Idrass does not take kindly to snooping. If I were you, I'd stand still and wait for his instructions.'

 With that final warning hanging in the air, the guide sealed the entrance with a resounding thud. A heavy silence settled over the room, broken only by the distant bubbling of liquids and the occasional slosh of shifting fluids. Then, the sharp sound of footsteps echoed through the space.

 'Good,' came a voice from an unexpected direction. The acolytes flinched as Professor Idrass entered from a separate doorway, catching them off guard. 'Cauldrons are against this wall. Each of you, take one, fill it with water, and find a station. No time to waste – move!'

 For a brief moment, hesitation gripped the students, but Riniock and Urael took the first steps, snapping the rest out of their stupor.

 Riniock selected a cauldron from the designated area – a sturdy, medium-sized pyresteel vessel with handles on either side. A wooden ladle hung neatly inside.

 'Water is collected from those faucets,' Idrass continued as the first student approached them. 'Hold your cauldron beneath the spout and give the command: "Flow." Once it's filled to your liking, say "Cease." Simple enough.'

 Following his instructions, the acolytes lined up. One by one, they placed their cauldrons beneath the faucets, calling out "flow!" as clear water rushed in. With a quick "cease," the streams halted, filling each cauldron to the brim with precision.

 'With all of you at your stations, we can now begin this brief potion lesson. I have no grand expectations – most of you will not excel in potioneering, let alone its far more intricate counterpart, alchemy. However, whether you are as dense as the majority or amongst the rare, inexplicably gifted few, every maegi must be capable of brewing at least the most basic potions and draughts.'

 Riniock had long since grown accustomed to professors belittling their students. By now, the insults barely registered.

 'Whether for personal use or trade, rejuvenation elixirs are a staple amongst maegis and adventurers alike. And today, you will teach yourselves how to brew one.'

 A hand shot up. Niann hesitated only a moment before speaking. 'Pardon me, professor, but…how exactly are we meant to teach ourselves something as delicate as potion-making?'

 Idrass smirked. 'That, my dear acolyte, is precisely why potion manuals exist. Which, I trust, all of you have with you.'

 As if compelled by an unseen force, the students immediately began rummaging through their bags and storage pouches, retrieving their manuals.

 'Ah, seems my assumption was correct,' Idrass chuckled. 'Turn to page twenty-four – Rejuvenation Elixir. Begin. If you succeed, you may leave. If not, prepare to stay. I have no other lessons planned today.'

 Like his peers, Riniock retrieved his potion manual – one he had purchased at the start of term along with a slew of other supplies.

 Flipping to the designated page, he skimmed through the text and diagrams. Any student paying attention had already begun lighting a magickal flame beneath their water-filled cauldrons. The sooner the water boiled, the quicker they could complete their brew.

 A deafening explosion suddenly shook the room.

 'Mr. Plateon,' Idrass drawled, unfazed, 'control your flames with greater care. Your recklessness is a disruption to the entire class.'

 A soot-covered student coughed violently, his hair a frazzled mess with a faint wisp of smoke rising from it. 'Y-Yes, professor,' he sputtered.

 With his own flame properly ignited, Riniock returned his focus to the manual. The next step required specific ingredients – none of which he had on hand.

 'For today's lesson,' Idrass announced, 'you may help yourselves to my personal stores. Just be mindful of what you take, hehe.'

 Wasting no time, Riniock darted towards the pantries.

 'I saw it earlier when we passed by…' He rummaged hastily. 'Aha!'

 Triumphantly, he pulled out two specimens of blestleaf –delicate flowers essential for the elixir's first step.

 But before he could steady himself, his foot slipped. The room spun, and in an instant, he crashed to the ground. As he blinked away the daze, a sneering face loomed over him – Urael's face.

 The older student crouched down and plucked one of the blestleafs from Riniock's grasp.

 'Much appreciated, Tolgir,' he taunted before striding off.

 'Bastard…' Riniock muttered under his breath, his lungs still catching up to the fall. As he pushed himself upright, his gaze dropped to the floor – where a thin sheen of ice glistened beneath his boot. 'I can play dirty too.'

 Rushing back to his station, Riniock found his water already bubbling. Without hesitation, he tossed the blestleaf into the pot, grabbed the ladle, and stirred in a steady counterclockwise motion.

 As he worked, his gaze flickered towards Urael's station across the room. The other student had reached the same stage in the process, completely unaware of the vengeance brewing in Riniock's mind.

 Subtly, Riniock lifted a finger and whispered a spell under his breath. A gust of air shot across the room, just strong enough to snuff out Urael's flame.

 'What in Murat?!' Urael swore as his cauldron's rolling boil came to an abrupt halt. His head snapped back at Riniock, eyes burning with fury.

 Riniock smirked and feigned innocence, returning his attention to his potion.

 Next on the list were berth beans. He hurried back to the supply shelves, scanning the labels until he found them – still encased in their tough, freshly plucked pods.

 To his mild annoyance, the beans required manual extraction.

 Behind him, Idrass approached with an amused expression. 'Be a good lad and crack that open for the rest of the class, would you? I haven't quite found the time myself.'

 Riniock exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he lugged the entire berth bean pod back to his station.

 Since magic couldn't be used to split it – lest its natural properties be compromised – he resorted to brute force, slamming it repeatedly against the edge of his workstation. After several solid strikes, fractures formed along its surface. A few more cracks later, the pod finally split open, revealing the much-needed beans inside.

 He took his share, then casually tossed the pod onto another acolyte's station, letting the others scramble like crazed animals for the rest.

 'Berth beans need to be added at one-minute intervals,' he murmured, recalling the manual's instructions, 'or else the potion's potency gets thrown off…'

 Just as he raised his hand to drop in the first bean, his fingers recoiled.

 The surface of his cauldron was frozen solid.

 His stomach twisted in irritation. Slowly, his gaze lifted towards the obvious culprit.

 His jaw clenched. His teeth dug into his lip.

 'Urael!' he growled.