We quickly moved from the classroom into a new space, a laboratory that exuded order and precision. Upon entering, the first thing I noticed, besides the pristine white walls, was the soft light emanating from the mana crystals embedded in the ceiling, illuminating the place with an ethereal, almost magical glow. The air was permeated with a stillness that invited concentration, as if everything in the place was in perfect harmony.
In one corner, large polished metal shelves extended toward the ceiling, filled with organized files and containers, some labeled with arcane symbols and others with runic codes. Documents, ancient and modern, were meticulously aligned, while a slight vibration of the air indicated that they were connected to an invisible data network.
The tables, distributed throughout the laboratory, were arranged with precision, each equipped with specialized tools: state-of-the-art centrifuges, high-resolution microscopes that glowed with their own light, and vials of strange tonics. Next to them were materials that resembled monster parts; from horns to a disgusting green slime-like mucus. Some papers scattered on the surfaces were covered with complex formulas, written in a runic language, whose lines lit up slightly when the light hit them.
In the center of the laboratory, a huge holographic screen floated in the air, projecting data in three dimensions. As we approached, the screen displayed complex simulations and graphs of fluctuating energy, which seemed to come to life, overflowing with information as if space itself were analyzing the future in real time. The echoes of distant voices and murmurs of machines mixed softly with the almost imperceptible hum of mana crystals, creating an atmosphere of absolute concentration.
The lab was not only a workplace, but a space where science and magic intertwined, a place where we would learn the basics of alchemy.
"Class is about to begin. Please take a seat."
!!
Buried in a pile of documents, was a pale woman with pointed ears, green hair, bright eyes and a gloomy look.
"Uwaaa!"
W-what...!
Some students were startled to see the beautiful elf buried in her documents, but I couldn't look away from everything around me. The lab, a place filled with a mysterious stillness.
The elf, walked confidently to the front. "I'm Cinthia Begonia and I'm in charge of teaching the alchemy course. Nice to meet you," she said, her voice clear and deep, resonating with authority. The students responded, some automatically, without worrying too much about the formalities. However, the teacher did not seem interested in more words, as she immediately began the lesson.
"Alchemy..." she began. As her gaze swept over everyone present, "it is a science as old as the earliest days of humanity, forged in the quest for transmutation. In its early days, alchemists believed that with the right knowledge they could turn the humblest of elements into gold, the most coveted metal. But this desire, born from the longing for power and wealth, was only the first step in a much deeper journey."
She paused, as if recalling echoes from a distant time. The students, now more attentive, felt the weight of her words. "Centuries passed before the wise understood the truth: that not only matter could be transformed, but that there was something much greater, much more subtle that guided this entire process. It was then that, in the shadows of experiments, the first vestige of mana emerged."
The silence in the room seemed to intensify as the professor spoke, her tone full of mystery, as if she were recounting her own story. "It was only when the alchemists discovered that there was something more, an invisible force that binds all the elements, that alchemy as we know it was truly born. Gold was no longer their only goal. They now sought to understand the fabric of the universe, believing that deeper secrets were contained in the philosopher's stone."
Every word of the professor seemed to resonate in the laboratory, as if ancient knowledge was filling every corner of the place. However, although her words were fascinating, I already knew that part of the story well. Alchemy, in its beginnings, was not only a path to knowledge, but a dark path marked by excessive ambition. The alchemists, blinded by their lust for power, began what was known as the "Philosopher's Project." Experiments that did not hesitate to sacrifice millions of human lives. They played with the soul and blood, crossing boundaries that should never have been touched.
What began as a search for the transmutation of metals soon became something much more terrible. Those who delved too deeply into this forbidden knowledge became corrupted, adopting the title of black alchemists. They became necromancers, lords of death, capable of manipulating and commanding it at will. Their power grew to such an extent that the Holy Empire could not remain indifferent. The threat of their dark magic spread throughout the continent, and it was then that the First Crusade was unleashed, a conflict that aimed to eradicate those renegade alchemists and their dark secrets.
In the end, the conflict ended with the fall of the black alchemists, but not without leaving deep scars on the world. It was then that strict rules were established for the practice of alchemy, and the manipulation of life was prohibited under any circumstances. From there, alchemy headed towards a purer path, known as white alchemy. It became a science, yes, but also an art that sought to understand the natural functioning of things, without trying to play with the threads of life itself.
The teacher continued her lesson, but my mind was already wandering with ancient stories, time passed quickly and soon it was over.
"Well, class is over," the teacher said in a tone that signaled the end of the lesson. "But starting next session, you'll need to familiarize yourselves with the materials. Each of you will be brewing a potion during practice. It's important that you begin to understand not only the ingredients, but also how the tools and environment affect the final result."
The students slowly began to rise, some exchanging words as they gathered their belongings. The teacher, for her part, watched intently, as if she were silently assessing each of us. Soon my eyes met hers, but I passed her by and continued on.