"Barion." After a moment of searching, the shadowy girl who was the apprentice to Yamora presented him with a potion bottle, "Please be mindful of the taste."
"I've taken a few of these before, so I know what to expect."
The liquid within was a clear-blue. Popping the cork, Barion winced as the alkaline taste washed down his throat. A great pain ran through his eyes almost immediately, as if a great light suddenly flashed in front of his face. When he opened his eyes again, the hut was still very much the same, but with sections of the wall and furniture filled with paragraphs of writing that seemed to glow magically.
"As expected, she's hidden stuff all over the place…" He sighed, "After a certain point, I suppose everything you learn could be considered dangerous."
"I judge from your reaction that Master Yamora made extensive use of enchanted ink." The shadow-girl replied bluntly.
"Not just that…" He muttered, "On the table… and even in the air… are those drawings?"
Amidst the complicated writings of the hut's previous owner, there were spectral images on the furniture and hanging in the air. Barion was not confident in his understanding of the language, but many of them seemed to depict ancient Aelven text. Others resembled magical sigils, though none he had ever seen before.
"Drink a potion for yourself. I don't think I could explain these to you." He said.
"There is no need." The girl answered confidently, and like that, her form appeared to melt and dissolve, sinking into the floorboards and leaving only an undulating shadow on the ground. Moving with great agility, it fell upon Barion's, and a strange, invasive feeling ran through his body.
"What did you just do? Feels like someone's touching me…"
"I am able to meld with shadows, as previously discussed." The girl's voice echoed in Barion's head, "However, doing so with the shadow of a living being allows me to share their senses to a certain extent. For instance, I am now able to perceive the world through your eyes as opposed to my own."
"You can see the enchanted ink, then?"
"Yes." She confirmed, "As expected, these images are portions of cuneiform Aelven, and a combination of both alchemical and magical sigils. It appears your theory holds water."
"There are more than 7 of them, though…"
"The image of the Aelven tablet against the far wall depicts the Prayer of the Goddess." She continued, "However, it is an outdated version of the prayer scribed during the 2nd reformation of the Aelven faith. Minute differences in the recording of its syllables confirms this."
"What does that mean?"
"Modern sorcery makes exclusive use of the modern-day Prayer of the Goddess, as the incantation draws more magical power than historical revisions." The shadow-girl explained, "I had not considered the possibility of using an outdated script as a symbol for the 7-coloured sphere."
Barion rested his hand on the hut's large central table, looking over a partially-obscured symbol etched into the rough woodwork, "What about this one?"
"It is the symbol of Unsem, the scientific method illustrated in a later paragraph of the Emerald Tablets." She replied quickly, "-But the bottom half of the symbol is missing. This is how it would be presented to a reader if they held only the first of 2 necessary tablets."
"I take it you didn't consider using it that way, either?"
"No, and doing so is particularly esoteric. Even a master alchemist would not think to use an incomplete set of diagrams."
"That's 2 symbols, then. Let's have a look at the others."
As the two of them poured over each of the shimmering illustrations, the theme of 'incomplete' or 'obsolete' symbols continued to arise. Versions or revisions of well-understood concepts, some of them almost identical to their common brethren.
"There are exactly 7 symbols which follow this trend, and 13 which do not." The shadow-girl's voice continued to echo in Barion's head, "Furthermore, when compared to the colour theories of the Emerald Tablets, each symbol can be assigned its own place upon the 7-coloured sphere."
"Sounds like we've got our answer"
As he said that, a sensation of something being pulled out of him ran through Barion's body, and he looked down to see the girl disconnecting from his shadow, her amorphous body rising up from the floor into a more humanoid form, "Indeed."
Taking the sphere from the table, the girl began touching her finger against each of its 7 regions, each time muttering a phrase beneath her breath, overwriting the previous symbols with new ones. When the last face of the sphere had been changed, there was a strange sound--the howl of rushing wind, and a grating screech. The shadow-girl dropped the sphere in surprise, and after rolling for a few seconds along the floor, it levitated into the air before collapsing into itself, and from the gravitational anomaly, a portal, not unlike that of a Gate, ripped open in the stale air of the hut.
"That seems to have been the correct solution." She spoke.
"You don't sound too happy about it." Barion replied.
"I feel it is best to temper my expectations. There is a chance that Master Yamora's pseudo-dimension will lack the reagents we seek."
"If what we need isn't in there, I'm going to be pretty upset about it."
"Preparing yourself for disappointment is the most efficient way to ensure that you are not demoralised by the possibility. If the reagents are absent, you will have predicted your own fate, and will be ready to move on, but if they are, you will be pleasantly surprised."
"You're quite matter-of-fact about these sorts of things, aren't you?"
"Master Yamora created me to be her ideal pupil. I do not consider imperfect solutions."
"Having fun is more important than being perfect, isn't it?"
She blinked, "No."
"...Right." Barion paused, "After you, then."
Without another word, the shadow-girl quickly stepped forward and disappeared into the portal. Following after her, Barion shivered as the sensation of dimensional travel sent chills down his spine, emerging into what appeared to be an endless white void, decorated only with a table, a small box, and an unsealed envelope containing a piece of yellowed parchment paper.
"This is a little strange, isn't it?" He wondered, the rushing portal still open behind him, "I was expecting things to look a little more cluttered in here."
"Master Yamora did not care for aesthetics. It is likely that her collection of reagents is within this small box." The shadow-girl explained, "There is an envelope here, as well."
"Open it."
"That would be rude. More than likely, it is someone's private property."
"Isn't this whole dimension someone's private property?"
"Committing one crime is not a reason to commit another."
"It's probably for you, anyway. Why else would Yamora have put it there?"
"That is a good question. I will retrieve the contents of the envelope."
"So stealing's fine as long as you've got half a reason to do it…?"
She didn't answer him, instead slipping the parchment out from the envelope and unfolding it.
"This is Master Yamora's handwriting." She reported quickly.
"Read it, then." Barion answered, crossing his arms.
Nodding, she ran her beady eyes over the parchment.
To my little sweetling,
Has the Way been keeping you occupied? You've flowered into such a lovely alchemist already, so I'm sure that by the time you read this, you will have already surpassed me. It seems as though this old soul of mine has just about reached its limit, but I'm comforted in my final years knowing that at least one person will carry my Way into the new world. In my youth, I was warned against the third Great Work by my own teachers, and for many centuries, I was convinced of its evil.
My sweetling, do you despise me for granting you life? It's always so difficult to tell what you're thinking, or perhaps that's just my eyesight failing me. There were times when I pushed your studies too far, and yet your will remained unbreaking. I record my true feelings here--feelings I should have expressed from the very beginning, and feelings I remain too stubborn to show you. Perhaps such things are true of us both. You hide your emotions well, but my years have allowed me to see the uncertainty that builds within you. Won't you share those worries with me? It troubles me that you seem to fear comfort. Perhaps I'm to blame for that.
Fusala. My sweetling. My only and only daughter. Will you promise to be good when I'm no longer here? There are many who would reject you for who you are. When you step beyond the marsh, you may find that the world is more unforgiving than you ever expected. That is the way of things, but do not allow it to change you. The Way--my Way, will remain by your side, so live, my daughter. My only woe in life is that you did not exist sooner.
Yamora