The sharp scent of dried herbs, the stinging bite of acids, and the metallic tang of ground-up ores filled the air as the students stepped into the alchemy laboratory. Shelves lined one of the walls, stacked with glass bottles of various sizes, dried plants, minerals, and tools ranging from mortars and pestles to enchanted distillation coils. In the center of the room, long stone tables were neatly arranged, each workstation equipped with a cauldron, measuring tools, and ingredient trays. One wall was dominated by a large blackboard.

  At the front of the class stood the professor. A wiry man with sharp, analytical eyes and an acid-stained apron. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing forearms covered in faint burn marks. Evidence of a lifetime of working with volatile mixtures. He surveyed the students with a look that was already half-disappointed.

  “Welcome to Alchemy 101. I am professor Elric Voynich. Some of you may think alchemy is a secondary skill, an accessory to real magic. Others may believe it to be a cheap trick for those without talent in spellcraft.” He leaned forward, his gaze sweeping across the room. “Let me be very clear. Alchemy is not an art of mere convenience. It is a science of survival. The right potion at the right time can turn a lost battle into a victory. Misuse, however, can just as easily turn your insides to sludge.”

  There was a pause as he let the words sink in. A few students shifted uneasily.

  “For this semester, we will be focusing on the fundamentals. This includes…,” he pointed to the writing on the blackboard.

  “Brewing simple potions: Healing, stamina, minor enhancements.

  Proper storage and transportation: Because a cracked bottle of concentrated fire oil in your bag is not how you want to die.

  Identification: Recognizing a real elixir from a bottle of snake oil.

  Practical usage: Knowing when to drink a potion is just as important as what you drink.

  And finally: Potion Poisoning.

  We will start with the last topic, because it’s something you have to know from the start. Potion Poisoning occurs when the total toxicity of consumed potions surpasses the drinker’s Constitution stat. Symptoms range from nausea to paralysis, magical instability, and in extreme cases… death. Professionally identified potions will include the toxicity on the label. If you’re unsure or your potion is not professionally labeled, assume at least a value of 3 for most basic Journeyman tier potions. Too many novice adventurers have perished because they chugged six potions in a row without understanding how their bodies process magic-infused substances. You will not be among them. Whenever you are offered a potion to use in class, you will inform me if you have used any other potions in the last 24 hours.”

  Professor Voynich let the silence linger for a moment, then clapped his hands. “Now, introductions. I want to know your level of experience. If you’ve brewed potions before, what kind? And if you haven’t, don’t lie. I can tell.”

  The students began to introduce themselves.

  Kane Veldig crossed his arms, his biceps straining against his sleeves as he rumbled, “I specialize in enhancement potions. Strength, endurance, resilience, stamina, and basic healing. I know my way around brewing anything that helps the body perform better.”

  Professor Voynich nodded approvingly. “A practical approach. I expect you to excel in basic potion-making. What about more complex or esoteric formulas?”

  Kane shrugged. “If it doesn’t directly improve performance, I don’t waste my time with it.”

  Voynich sighed. “Of course you don’t.”

  Then came Darken O’ Mighty, who adjusted his robe dramatically before speaking. “I take a more… refined approach to alchemy. True power comes not from crude ingredients but from releasing their essence. Dilution enhances potency. A single drop of a properly prepared potion should be enough to change the very fabric of…”

  “Stop!” The professor pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “You’re one of those. I had two revenant students last semester that used the same terminology. Let me guess. Over-diluted mixtures, chanting nonsense about ‘resonance fields’, and feeling the energy of ingredients?”

  Darken grinned. “Ah, so you are familiar with advanced alchemical philosophy!”

  Voynich’s eye twitched. “If I catch you replacing any proper ingredients with ‘quartz crystal activated spring water’ or diluting a potion to the point of uselessness while shaking it to a ‘harmonic rhythm’, you will find yourself scrubbing cauldrons for the rest of the semester. In my classroom, you will use proper alchemy.”

  Darken smile faltered, but he still gave a cheerful thumbs-up. “Noted.”

  When it was Weylan’s turn, he hesitated. “I, uh… I haven’t brewed anything before, but I’ve used a lot of potions. Mostly in combat. I’ve seen what works, what doesn’t, and how to apply them effectively.”

  Professor Voynich nodded slowly. “You’ve witnessed alchemy in action, then. That perspective has value. Knowing the theory is one thing, but understanding its real-world applications is another.” He pointed at Selvara. “Is that a familiar?”

  Weylan nodded, while Selvara cawed affirmatory.

  “Keep her out of the fumes, birds are notoriously sensitive to gases. I assume it’s clever enough not to eat or drink anything without permission?”

  Weylan quickly grabbed her to keep her from flying at the professor. “She is.” The dungeon-fairy in raven form quickly calmed down, but shot a murderous glare at the professor.

  Who wasn’t intimidated, but instead started to smile. “Raven familiars are known to be unusually intelligent and sometimes grant their bonded mages advantages to memorization. Treat her well.”

  The three priestesses introduced themselves as a group. Alina spoke for them: “We had only the most basic training in brewing potions, but as healers, we are very familiar with their effects. We want to learn both crafting and how to integrate them into divine magic use.”

  Voynich stroked his chin. “Interesting. Divine casters tend to rely on spells, but I’ve heard of hybrid approaches. Potions or salves to enhance or concentrate healing spells…” He nodded. “You might find potion brewing complements your healing abilities more than you expect. I’ll organize some special training sessions and instructions for healers later in the year.”

  Finally, Ulmenglanz stood. “As a dryad, I am naturally attuned to herbalism. I know how to extract medicinal properties from plants and create natural remedies. I seek to expand my knowledge of alchemical processing and magical infusion.”

  Voynich’s brows lifted slightly. “A dryad, that’s new. You should have an easy time adapting to potion-making. Let’s see if you can keep up once we move past plants and into more volatile compounds. Oh, and remind me to excuse you when we cover Iron-Skin potion next month. Even the fumes are enough to trigger violent allergic reactions in feykin. I prefer to avoid melting students in class.”

  He looked around and noticed he’d almost missed a student.

  Weylan followed his gaze and startled. The female elf stealth caster had been at the desk right next to him the whole time and he hadn’t noticed her. That Liriel was freakishly stealthy. Maybe he should ask her for some pointers later.

  Liriel inclined her head slightly, her voice soft enough to almost disappear into the air. “Liriel Dawnwhisper. I'm fairly new to alchemy, but I’ve already brewed a few simple mixtures. Smoke bombs, mostly.”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  With introductions done, the professor clapped his hands together. “Enough talking. Time for action.” He gestured to the tables, where ingredients and tools lay waiting.

  “You will each brew a simple Stamina Draught. The ingredients are provided. Phoenix Pepper to heighten physical endurance and to provide extra energy, Mistral leaves for mana stability, and a pinch of powdered Sylvan Salt to ease absorption into the body. Follow the instructions exactly. If you botch it, you’ll be drinking your own mistake and the senior students from the class next door will get to test the Cleansing Potions they are just now brewing on you.”

  He looked around and snapped his fingers, as if remembering something. “I assume you’ve never used a Cleansing potion? No one? Okay. It is easy.” He pointed to a side door “If ordered, you will go into that side room. Theres a latrine and buckets. You sit on the latrine, get a bucket ready and then take the Cleansing potion. There are some emergency potions on the small shelf inside. There’s also a cupboard with a collection of robes and different sized undergarments. In case you need some.”

  Mirabelle asked. “What if there are multiple students poisoned at once?”

  The professor sighed, but answered firmly. “Two things. I will be screamed at by the headmaster, because I’ve screwed up and everyone afflicted runs out the main door and down the corridor. Theres a communal cleansing facility. It’s not separated for women and men, because if you need that room, you really won’t care.”

  The students moved to their stations, some more confident than others.

  Kane exchanged his mortar and pestle with one from the cupboard, that was twice the size and then worked with practiced efficiency. His hands were steady as he ground the peppercorns into a fine powder.

  Darken, meanwhile, muttered to himself about “energetic harmonization” while adding what looked like a completely unnecessary amount of water.

  Weylan eyed his cauldron warily. “This is either going to work… or explode.” He meticulously went to work, all the while concentrating on not using his Poison Lore. Halfway through preparing the Mistral leaves, he realized why that had been so important. He felt for the nudges the skill gave him while he removed certain darker parts of the leaves, as the recipe told him to. The skill urged him to leave them in. Doubtlessly because those parts where either poisonous or increased the potency of poisons. To use Poison Lore for anything except brewing poisons would be foolish. Cooking would probably make potions taste better, but at the expense of effectiveness.

  Alina laughed. “Just follow the steps. It’s not that hard.”

  The steady bubbling of brewing potions filled the air as the students worked, some more carefully than others. Professor Voynich prowled between workstations, his sharp eyes catching every misplaced ingredient and every incorrect stir.

  Weylan had put the ingredients into the small kettle and turned the page of his instructions while the water came to a boil. “Touch the control runes on the kettle to connect to the kettle’s enchantment. Then use your Mana Control to even out the mana distribution in the mixture.” He looked up confused. “How?”

  Voynich turned away from observing another student and clapped his hands sharply to gather the class’s attention. “Good question. I forgot we have some students, that have not yet used alchemic cauldrons. Usually, you can use Mana Control only on the mana in your body or a spell you are still concentrating on. The cauldron's enchantment enables you to take control of any mana inside the cauldron. Depending on the potion, ingredients, and recipe, different tasks must be accomplished. Evening out the distribution is the easiest one. Just stir the mana until its evenly distributed.”

  Weylan gripped the cauldron on both sides and concentrated. Instantly, he could see colorful lights inside the mixture. Mostly blue. He could feel the mana. Feel that he could move it. Like a limb that hadn’t been there before. But when he tried to move it, the light flickered and whirled uncontrollably.

  The professor watched him for a few moments, then gently pulled his hands away and took control himself. In an instant, the chaotic churning lights faded and turned into a uniform light. He sounded only slightly reproachful. He spoke quietly, so as to not disturb the other students. “Have you ever trained your Mana Control skill?”

  “I did not have much chance. I’ve only reached Layman VII…,” he read a notice.

  Skill increased: Mana Control (Layman VIII)

  “…and just now Layman VIII.”

  Voynich looked at him with a pitying look. “You do know most classes start with that skill at Apprentice tier?”

  “My class is… special. I’m only what my first teacher called a half-caster. I started at Layman I.”

  The professor's eyes widened with a hint of pity. "That's... unfortunate. But it really just comes down to training. Don't worry. Professor Kaelthorne will begin mana precision lessons later this week. She'll have you in shape in no time."

  Weylan offered a faint, doubtful smile. “I just hope I’ll survive her training methods.”

  The professor chuckled quietly, a knowing glint in his eyes. “You and half the academy. But believe me. If anyone can whip your control into shape, it’s her.”

  While Weylan focused on brewing, Professor Voynich absentmindedly sorted through the labeled glass jars on the ingredient shelf as the first students began tidying up. His brows furrowed. He checked, re-checked, then pulled a battered leather notebook from under the counter, flipping through a faded inventory list.

  “Hm,” he murmured, low enough that only the nearby students might catch it. His voice grew sharper as his fingers tapped against the shelf. “Powdered Argentroot is light... Distilled Fireblossom essence missing more than it should... and…,” He lifted an almost empty jar. “The refined azurite shards are nearly gone.”

  Faya, working nearby, perked up. “Isn’t Fireblossom used in love potions?”

  Voynich arched a brow. “That recipe is restricted, so you should not know this. But yes, it’s one of the ingredients. Just not when combined with Argentroot and azurite. That’s... an entirely different effect.”

  Faya blinked innocently. “Oh, I don’t... I just heard a senior priestess once mention Fireblossom is locked up in the restricted stores for... reasons.”

  Voynich allowed himself a nod. “A wise precaution.” He leaned back, arms crossed, tapping his fingers against the edge of the shelf. “But whoever did this wasn’t after love potions.” His eyes drifted across the ingredient list again, then narrowed. “No, this is someone brewing a stimulant. Crude but effective. Likely a wakefulness concoction.”

  He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “For the finals, no doubt. Every few years, some halfwit decides they’d rather fry their nerves than sleep.” His sharp gaze swept across the class, but lingered nowhere for long. “At least you lot were under my eyes the whole lesson.”

  With a shake of his head, he turned back to supervising the students.

  Kane worked with surprising precision at his workstation… until his thick fingers, much stronger than nimble, fumbled a small bottle of powdered Sylvan Salt. The vial slipped from his grip, spinning through the air toward a cauldron nearby.

  Weylan, who had been carefully measuring out his own ingredients, saw it happen in the corner of his eye. His body reacted before his mind could fully process the danger. He made two quick steps to the other worktable, twisted, reached out…

  Snatch!

  He caught the vial a hands-width above the cauldron. Just in time.

  The student working at that station, a scrawny boy with nervous eyes, let out a strangled sound, clutching his head. “That… is that more Sylvan Salt? Adding more that late in the brewing would be… bad? I guess?”

  “It would have turned the cauldrons content into a cloud of nauseous gas and forced us to evacuate the lab,” Professor Voynich corrected him grimly as he appeared at their side.

  He eyed Kane. “Veldig, perhaps you should work on your grip strength before attempting to handle volatile materials.”

  Kane looked sheepish. “I’ll… work on that.”

  Weylan placed the bottle safely on the table. “No harm done.”

  “This time,” Voynich muttered, rubbing his temples.

  Meanwhile, at the other end of the lab, Darken was stirring his cauldron with dramatic flourishes, humming to himself. Unlike the others, he hadn’t followed the instructions exactly. His potion had taken on a pale, translucent appearance, almost like water.

  Professor Voynich approached and scowled. “What in the name of all gods are you brewing, O’ Mighty?”

  Darken turned with a grin. “Ah, Professor! I’m elevating the standard Stamina Draught with an advanced principle. Psychosomatic enhancement.”

  Voynich’s left eye twitched. “I beg your pardon?”

  Darken gestured proudly at his cauldron. “See, normal alchemy relies on active magical and chemical reactions. But my approach utilizes the mind as an amplifier! The direct effect on the body is greatly reduced, but if the drinker believes the potion works, his body will naturally increase energy production. That’s why I’ve refined the taste, color, and scent to make it feel more powerful.”

  The room went silent.

  While Voynich just looked confused, Kane’s laughter shook the glassware. “You made a placebo!”

  “A highly refined, psychologically optimized placebo,” Darken corrected with a proud nod. “The mind is a powerful thing, Professor. I’ve even heard some warriors perform better in battle just by believing they drank a potion. Even when they didn’t.”

  Voynich pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled slowly. “Tell me, O’ Mighty… if your ‘potion’ relies entirely on belief, why even brew it at all?”

  Darken’s grin widened. “Because if it tastes like a real potion, smells like a real potion, looks like a real potion… Then it is a real potion, for all practical purposes!”

  Several students exchanged amused or bewildered looks. Kane just snickered, amused but not convinced it would work. Weylan muttered, “That sounds suspiciously like a scam.”

  Voynich, at his limit, pointed to Darken’s cauldron. “Drink it. Now.”

  Darken beamed, filled a small vial, and downed it in one gulp. He smacked his lips. “Mmm. Notes of rosemary and a hint of the honey I added. Excellent.” He flexed his fingers and cracked his neck dramatically. “Yes. I feel… incredible! This is a masterpiece!”

  Voynich narrowed his eyes. “Run a lap around the academy.”

  Darken’s confidence wavered. “Wait, what…?”

  “If your psychosomatic nonsense actually works, you should have plenty of stamina,” Voynich said, crossing his arms. “So, prove it. Now.”

  Darken swallowed, then bolted for the door, much to the amusement of his classmates.

  As the alchemy lesson continued, Voynich sighed, rubbing his temples. “This semester is going to kill me.”