Chapter 28. Alchemy
Through the classroom window, autumn painted the academy grounds in warm colors. A gentle breeze scattered fallen leaves across the courtyard, where a first-year was poking at a particularly fat frog with a stick.
The boy wasn't being cruel, exactly - more like that peculiar brand of childhood curiosity that involved seeing how far you could annoy something before it hopped away.
Adom watched the scene with mild interest, Professor Lan's lecture on basic ward theory fading into background noise.
The first-year managed to flip the frog onto its back. The creature's legs kicked uselessly at the air while the boy watched, fascinated.
Adom's mind drifted to his own problems. Professor Kim's Dragon's Breath project needed careful handling - one wrong move and the consequences would ripple through decades. Then there was the cure... The time limit in his interface was a constant reminder ticking away in the corner of his vision.
The frog had righted itself, only for the stick to prod it again.
Seventy-nine years of magical knowledge crammed into a twelve-year-old brain made formal education feel rather redundant. He could ace every test, answer every question - except in Alchemy, ironically enough. That one he actually needed to attend. Everything else though...
His fingers traced absent patterns on his desk. He could be in the library right now, researching giant runes or working on the cure. Instead, he was sitting through lessons he could probably teach in his sleep. Had taught, in fact, to wide-eyed recruits who'd called him "Lord Mage Sylla" with varying degrees of terror and respect.
The frog made another bid for freedom. The first-year blocked its path with the stick.
Without moving his head from its comfortable position propped on his hand, Adom weaved a subtle attraction spell, just enough to make the frog zip suddenly between the boy's legs. The startled yelp that followed was rather satisfying.
A small giggle escaped before he could catch it.
"Care to share what's so amusing, Mr. Sylla?"
Professor Lan's voice cut through his thoughts like a knife through butter. Right. Maybe he should pay at least some attention to class. For appearance's sake, if nothing else.
Adom straightened in his chair, offering Professor Lan an apologetic smile. The rest of the class dragged by like molasses, his mind constantly wandering to more pressing matters - Cure, Dragon's Breath, freedom...
By lunch time, the dining hall hummed with the usual chaos. Apprentice mages clustered around long wooden tables, their voices echoing off stone walls as they compared notes, complained about assignments, or argued about the proper pronunciation of that new fire spell their Professor had demonstrated.
Adom took another bite of his turkey leg, savoring the tenderness of the meat. The kitchen staff had outdone themselves - perfectly seasoned, just the right amount of smokiness. A welcome distraction from the day's monotony.
"You're doing it again," Sam said from across the table, pointing his fork accusingly.
"Doing what?"
"That thing where you stare into space and look all..." Sam waved his hands vaguely. "You've been moping all day. Is it because your cat left?"
Adom nearly choked on his turkey.
"I mean, cats do that sometimes," Sam continued, misinterpreting Adom's reaction. "They just... wander off. Could come back today even."
A laugh bubbled up from Adom's chest before he could stop it. "I really doubt that."
"Well, you never know with cats." Sam shrugged, then brightened. "Hey, what are you doing after lunch? I was thinking of heading to the club, get some training in."
"Would you look at that," Adom grinned, setting down his turkey leg. "Wasn't it just a few weeks ago you were cursing my name for dragging you there? What was it you said? Something about 'sadistic training regimens' and 'cruel and unusual punishment'?"
"I was young and ignorant then," Sam declared with mock solemnity. He pushed up his sleeve with flourish. "Look! Look what all that training did!"
Sam flexed his arm dramatically. There was... well, there was certainly enthusiasm, if not actual muscle definition. Yet.
"Very impressive," Adom said with complete seriousness, while a third-year at the next table poorly disguised their snicker as a cough.
"Right?" Sam beamed, completely missing the sarcasm. He rolled his sleeve back down, nearly knocking over his water goblet in the process. "So, you coming or what?"
"Can't today. Got that thing with Professor Mirwen," Adom said, wiping his hands on a napkin.
"Oh right, the special course." Sam shook his head. "I still don't get you, you know? First, we were both going for Runicologist. Then suddenly you're all about Battle Mage, and now you're taking extra Alchemy classes?" He gestured with his fork. "What's next? Divination?"
"It is what it is," Adom said, standing up with his plate. "Speaking of which, I should get going. Lesson's in a few minutes."
Adom made his way to the disposal area, where animated dishes scrubbed themselves clean in perpetual motion.
"See you later then," Sam called after him. "Try not to blow anything up!"
Adom waved goodbye and stepped out into the corridor, where Xerkes' ever-shifting architecture was beginning its occasional dance.
He checked his map of the building's current layout. Professor Mirwen had said to meet in the East Tower's secondary laboratory - which, given the building's constant movement, meant he needed to take the third corridor, wait for the rotating bridge to align, then catch the floating platform before it drifted too high.
Three sharp knocks echoed in the stone corridor.
"Come in!" Professor Mirwen's voice carried through the heavy oak door.
Adom stepped into the laboratory, it had a... sterile smell. If that meant something. Copper apparatus lined the walls, their tubes and vessels gleaming in the light of crystals. Professor Mirwen stood behind a workbench, her silver-streaked hair tied back in its usual practical knot. Beside her, Mia sat perched on a tall stool, her notebook already open.
"Hey," Adom nodded to Mia.
"Hey, Adom." she returned the greeting with a smile then looked back at her notes.
"Ah, perfect timing, Mr. Sylla. We were just about to begin." Professor Mirwen gestured to an empty stool. "Please, join us."
Adom settled onto the wooden seat, noting how different the atmosphere felt with just two students instead of a full class. More focused. Less opportunity to daydream, too.
"Now then," Professor Mirwen said, resting her hands on the workbench. Her rings clinked softly against the worn wood. "Before we delve into the practical aspects, I'd like to hear your understanding of alchemy. Mr. Sylla?"
"Ah, sure." Adom straightened slightly. "Alchemy is the magical discipline that focuses on the transformation of matter through the manipulation of its fundamental properties. Unlike pure transmutation magic, it requires catalysts and reagents to achieve stable results. Its primary applications include potion-making, material enhancement, and the creation of magical compounds."
"Very good." Professor Mirwen's lips curved in a slight smile. "That's the textbook definition, word for word if I'm not mistaken. But tell me - what is alchemy to you?"