After finishing the chapter, my hands itched to test out the idea. Making explosions that make flowers bloom? It was too poetic—and too chaotic—to resist. Pyro would understand. No, he'd approve of this impulse.
I snuck into the unused side of my mother's alchemy room, a corner I'd mentally claimed as "mine" ever since I was tall enough to climb onto the worktable.
There, I gathered what I could find: dried petal fragments, powdered glowroot, and a pinch of sparkstone dust—nothing too rare. I wasn't that reckless.
"Controlled beauty in chaos," I murmured, echoing Pyro's words as I mixed the ingredients together. My hands were steady, my excitement barely contained as I prepared the concoction. A little glowroot for stability, petals for the bloom, and the sparkstone dust to—well—make things go boom.
I set the small, round flask in the center of the table, the liquid inside shimmering faintly. The instructions said I needed a controlled ignition, so I grabbed a small flame crystal and carefully hovered it near the flask's neck.
"Steady now…"
Poof!
The reaction was instant—perhaps too instant. A small bang erupted, followed by a comically large puff of greenish smoke. I coughed, my eyes watering as the haze cleared, and—
There it was.
In the center of the blackened table, rising delicately from a crack in the wood, was a single flower. Its petals glowed softly, and they were an unnatural shade of blue, like moonlight captured in a bloom.
I stared, momentarily stunned. Then, against all common sense, I laughed—loud, joyous, and entirely unrepentant. "It worked! I made a flower with an explosion! Pyro, you absolute genius!"
"By the ancestors, what did you do this time?!" The old nanny's voice cracked through the air as she stormed into the room, her shawl flapping dramatically behind her. Her sharp eyes scanned the mess before landing on me, still grinning like a lunatic next to my newly-bloomed masterpiece.
"Oh no," she muttered, scooping me up like a sack of potatoes. "You're going to get us both into trouble."
"It's fine, Nanny! Look! I made art!" I pointed triumphantly to the flower as she hauled me away.
"Art?" she scoffed, though her voice softened as she glanced back at the glowing bloom. "More like a headache waiting to happen."
Still, I couldn't stop smiling. The mixture had been simple, but the effect? Beautiful. It was chaos controlled, just as Pyro had promised.
The nanny eventually decided I'd "burn off" some of my mischief outside. Fresh air, she claimed, would do wonders for a young troublemaker like me. So I found myself in the front courtyard, where a group of local children had gathered under the watchful eye of a few family attendants.
I recognized a few faces—familiar names I'd overheard from passing conversations: Ryn, a boy with dirt-smeared cheeks and a perpetual smirk; Thad, a quiet type who always seemed halfway to napping; and the sisters, Lena and Serra. Lena, the elder, had sharp features and an air of someone just about to lecture you, while little Serra had an innocence that made her look like she'd wandered out of a painting.
Naturally, I had a goal. Make friends. And not just with the boys—befriending the sisters, specifically, was part of my grand plan. A true genius anticipates all outcomes, and charming the sisters of potential allies? That was just good strategy.
"Hi," I said as I approached the group, hands in my pockets like I was the smoothest five-year-old in existence. "I'm Venzel. What're you doing?"
"Looking for bugs," Ryn replied, holding up a small wooden jar with something wriggling inside. He seemed proud, which was concerning.
Thad didn't even bother looking up. "Bugs are boring."
"Lena says it's unsanitary," piped up little Serra, wrinkling her nose. Her voice was small, but her opinion was loud enough.
"Bugs are unsanitary," Lena said, crossing her arms and fixing me with a skeptical look. "What do you want?"
Perfect, I thought. This was my moment. I could earn their respect. I crouched down and lowered my voice conspiratorially. "Want to see something cooler than bugs?"
"What?" Ryn asked immediately, his smirk replaced by interest.
I grinned, glancing around before pulling a small vial from my pocket—the leftovers from my earlier experiment. I had wisely scooped some of the residue into a bottle before Nanny dragged me away.
"Watch this," I said, pouring just a dab of the liquid into a patch of dirt near the courtyard edge. I stepped back dramatically, gesturing for them to do the same. "Don't blink."
They watched, skeptical at first, but then—poof! A tiny burst of smoke, followed by the sudden bloom of a small, glowing blue flower.
Serra gasped. "It's magic!"
Lena's eyes widened, though she quickly tried to school her expression into something more composed. "Where did you learn that?"
"I've been experimenting," I replied casually, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulders. "It's alchemy. Controlled chaos."
Ryn stared at the flower, clearly impressed. "That's cooler than bugs."
Thad opened one eye. "Not bad."
Serra clapped her hands. "Do it again!"
"Well, I can't just do it all the time," I said, pretending to be mysterious, though in truth, I only had one small vial left. "Alchemy takes focus—and materials."
"Sounds dangerous," Lena muttered, though she watched me a little longer than before, like I was a particularly tricky puzzle.
Progress, I thought smugly.
And just like that, I'd made an impression. The boys were intrigued, the sisters were curious, and for the first time since arriving in this world, I felt like I was winning.
Of course, the old nanny eventually noticed the gathering crowd and dragged me away before I could cause any more "chaos." But as she lectured me on the importance of behaving like a proper young gentleman, I couldn't help but smile.
Flowers made from explosions, new friends (sort of), and sisters I was determined to charm?
Venzel Kaelith, you magnificent genius. The world doesn't know what's coming!