The morning sun painted the cobblestone streets in a golden hue as I made my way to the apothecary. The events of last night at the bathhouse still linger in my mind. The malicious Draconian's mysterious words about Nikolai's talisman and its owner tugged at my curiosity.
Pushing open the creaking door of Hawthorne's Apothecary, I was greeted by the familiar scent of herbs and potions. The glass vials lined up on the shelves glimmered like a rainbow. I hung my cloak on the hook by the entrance, the worn wood groaning in protest.
Emrys, my colleague, was already at work, meticulously measuring ingredients for a potion. His thick blond hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, his hands were covered in soot, and he wore an emerald green apron over his dark clothes. He looked up from what he was doing and waved his hand dismissively, saying, "Ah, you're finally here." He glanced at the clock on the wall behind him. "I should have had time enough to show you my new concoction, but it'll take a couple more hours before all the ingredients are ready."
"I thought you were making an herbal potion," I replied.
A smile crossed his lips, his dimples deepening. "No, this is tea. I learned this from my uncle in the village. Just wait until it's done; you'll be amazed."
I nodded as Emrys walked back to his table. This new concoction he was working on, however, seemed far from ordinary—at least that's what it appeared to be from my perspective. While it wasn't difficult to discern the components of the tea, I couldn't quite understand what they did exactly.
Emrys began filling two cups of tea from the kettle sitting on a small gas burner. Their delicate fragrance lingered for only a moment before dispersing through the room. "Here you go," he said as he handed me a cup of steaming tea, which I took gratefully.
"Careful with that. It's hot!" He chuckled and picked up one of his cups, bringing the hot liquid to his mouth to take a sip, then added a bit of honey from a small ceramic jar.
"What are these, anyway?" I asked, taking another sip.
He shrugged. "I call them 'Tickleberry Infusion'."
"That doesn't sound very nice."
"But it does taste good. Try it; it'll make you feel better if you try something different today."
I sighed and took a sip of the tingly concoction, immediately feeling the warmth spread throughout my body. "Oh," I moaned, savoring the flavor. "It has some sort of kick, doesn't it?"
Emrys chuckled, taking another sip of tea. "You don't even know. Now finish your tea before it gets cold." He stood up and brushed off his apron before picking up his pot of tea leaves and moving to the shelf beside him, where a dozen cauldrons stood.
Eventually, we settled down to work without much conversation. He occasionally asked for my opinion or requested a quick demonstration of my knowledge when he couldn't figure out a specific ingredient.
*****
That afternoon, at four o'clock, I went to the lodge to make a new amulet. I descended the narrow, winding staircase that led to the hidden heart of the lodge, and the scent of aged stone and ancient knowledge enveloped me. The anticipation of what lay ahead coursed through my veins, making my heart race. The alchemical laboratory, a place where the secrets of magic and enchantments came to life, had always been a source of wonder and mystery.
The lab appeared as if it had been frozen in time, its dimly lit space filled with curious contraptions, dusty scrolls, and an array of glassware that captured the soft, flickering candlelight. The air was thick with the musky scent of old books and the faint tang of alchemical brews. Each step I took felt like a journey into a world where time moved differently.
As I passed the rows of glass cases that held different artifacts from across history, I marveled over the objects inside. My fascination began early when I discovered that each exhibit depicted an object or artifact belonging to an obscure culture. Some items included swords, shields, bows and arrows, daggers, spears, and even tiny mechanical birds. There were also strange things I couldn't begin to recognize. A wooden ball, for example, looked much like a miniature replica of the Earth itself. And, most intriguing of all, there was a tiny wooden box, carved from a single log, that contained a mysterious, unidentifiable object that resembled a crystal.
Galen Ironwood, the lodge's alchemist, was engrossed in his work when I arrived. He hunched over an intricately designed alchemical apparatus, his slender fingers moving with practiced grace as he manipulated delicate glassware. For a moment, it seemed as if I were intruding upon a sacred ritual. His long, dark hair hung loosely around his face, and his pale skin shone with sweat that beaded on his forehead. A pair of round spectacles dangled precariously off his thin nose as he continued mixing his latest concoction, one of his favorite pastimes.
"Hello, Galen," I said softly. "How are you today?"
He did not look up until he heard my footsteps on the smooth stone tiles. His face lit up. His eyes, the color of molten silver, locked onto mine, and a faint, enigmatic smile played at the corners of his lips. Galen was so tall that he was practically a giant. He wore an earth-toned robe and a long green cape.
"Ah," he mused, his voice carrying an air of detached curiosity, "our new initiate, I presume. Masha Montclair, isn't it?"
I nodded, feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement. Galen's reputation as an eccentric alchemist was legendary among the lodge members, and his youthful appearance had always been a subject of fascination and speculation.
His gaze traveled slowly up and down my body before settling back into my eyes. As I shifted uncomfortably under his scrutiny, I wished fervently for my cloak to cover more of my skin. Galen could be a bit intense when he wanted something. At least he didn't seem hostile, merely curious.
Galen held out a hand, which I clasped politely. His fingers were cold and slightly dry. In contrast, his skin was moist and clammy. A hint of the familiar herbal smell lingered in his hair and the fabric of his robe, reminding me that he had recently made potions.
"I've come seeking your guidance," I began, my fingers gently cradling the necklace that held the remnants of my shattered amulet. "I need to create a new protective amulet, and I've been told that you are the one who can assist me."
Galen's gray eyes regarded me thoughtfully, and he straightened up from his worktable. "Protective amulets, you say? Do you have something specific in mind?"
I nodded eagerly. "Yes, I want to protect myself from dark entities. The amulet will protect me from anything that threatens my safety."
With a graceful motion, I handed him the necklace I made two days ago, careful not to let it slip from my trembling fingers. Galen looked at it carefully, particularly the intricate design of the pendant I had carved. After a few moments of silence, he spoke in a surprisingly gentle tone.
"It seems as though this might be a difficult task for a novice magician. However, given the fact that you're here, why don't we try to see how well you do? If everything goes as planned, I'll give you some pointers." His tone had changed, becoming more businesslike.
My cheeks warmed, but I nodded enthusiastically and thanked him profusely.
Galen gestured toward a nearby bench. "You sit while I finish the enchantment. Remember this," he said, his voice now more focused. "No one should ever touch this amulet except for you or me. Its potency depends on the connection between its maker and its wearer."
I sat obediently on the worn cushions and listened attentively as Galen continued his instructions. I knew that he could sense my anxiety through his psychic abilities, but his mannerisms suggested otherwise. When he finished, he gave me a slight, encouraging nod, signaling that the spell was ready.
He placed the amulet on the table. "Now, I want you to visualize as if you are the amulet, or this pendant, itself. Visualize all your thoughts and feelings. You must do so without distraction. You must concentrate so hard on this visualization that nothing else matters."
I closed my eyes. As the words of Galen drifted into my brain, I forced my thoughts to flow into the amulet and the necklace. Gradually, the pendant and I became one entity. But then, just before the image faded completely, I suddenly felt an odd sense of pressure against my chest. An instant later, the sensation vanished.
When I opened my eyes, Galen was looking intently at me, his eyes wide with surprise. "Interesting," he murmured, and for the first time, I felt like a puzzle to be solved.
"Is everything okay?" I asked, my brow furrowed in concern.
The otherworldly expression faded from his face as he shrugged. "Everything is fine. I'd recommend doing that meditation for at least an hour as much as possible. You can do it every day or several times a week. Make sure no one will touch your necklace, so put it inside a safe container if you're not going to use it."
Then he chuckled lightly and added, "But perhaps your current dilemma is enough of a deterrent for a time."What do you mean?" My voice sounded shrill to my ears. I tried to compose myself and calm my nerves. "Please continue explaining. What kind of danger could threaten me here in our sanctuary?" I said.
His eyes glinted playfully. "Well, I wouldn't worry too much about that. Perhaps there will never be anything worth being threatened by in the entire universe. We humans, however, are known to be susceptible to such dangers—such as fear." His laughter rang out again.
"Fear of what?" I asked.
He whispered solemnly as if sharing a dark rumor. "The unknown, Masha. The unknown. That is what causes us to fear." Then, without another word, he turned back toward the potion. With his back to me, I watched as he stirred it quickly and deftly, working swiftly and quietly. His movements brought a faint, fragrant aroma of cloves and nutmeg to the room.
We were quiet for a moment. I was about to stand up to leave the laboratory when suddenly Galen turned to me and said, "I forgot to tell you. Do you want to see an evocation?" His eyes twinkled mischievously.
"A what?"
"An evocation. A summoning of spirits."
I was quite aware of the existence of different kinds of astral and mental beings, but it can be dangerous to summon them, even if they are angels. Some of them had such powerful energies that evoking them could cause physical demise in an instant.
Others, however, are considered harmless. They may have no negative side effects. Sometimes these spirits can pass on their knowledge to those they serve, helping those whom they wish to protect become stronger in magic and wisdom.
I shook my head firmly. "I'm sorry, Galen, but I can't. Thank you anyway."
"Come on, Masha," he insisted, "I will be evoking a gnome. I thought you wanted to see an actual ritual evocation. Come on. Don't turn it down. Please?" His pleading eyes stared into mine earnestly, and it took all of my willpower not to capitulate. I had never learned to resist Galen's pleas for help.
"All right," I agreed reluctantly, "but only because you look so excited."
"Come this way, then."