The acrid smell of burning herbs filled the cramped laboratory as Elowen carefully measured out powdered mandrake root. Her brow furrowed in concentration, she tipped the delicate silver scale, watching intently as the fine green powder trickled into a glass vial.
“Three drams exactly,” she murmured, setting the vial in a wooden rack alongside a dozen others. Each contained a precisely measured ingredient - some common, others rare and costly. Together they formed the components of a potent healing tonic, one of the most complex formulations Elowen had attempted in her three years as an apprentice alchemist.
A sudden gust rattled the diamond-paned windows, making Elowen start. She glanced up, realizing how late it had grown. The laboratory’s lone candle guttered in its brass holder, shadows dancing across the cluttered worktables and shelves crammed with books and bottles.
With a sigh, Elowen stretched, wincing as her stiff muscles protested. She’d been hunched over her work since dawn, determined to complete the tonic before her mentor returned from his journey. Magister Thorne had been gone nearly a fortnight, leaving Elowen to manage his shop of medicinal remedies and elixirs. It was a test, she knew - one she was determined to pass.
As if summoned by her thoughts, the shop’s bell jangled. Elowen froze, heart racing. It was well past closing time - who could be calling so late?
Cautiously, she crept down the narrow stairs. The shop below was dark, lit only by faint moonlight filtering through clouded windows. A tall figure stood silhouetted against the glass door.
“We’re closed,” Elowen called, her voice quavering slightly. “Please return tomorrow.”
The figure raised a hand, tapping sharply on the door. “Open up, girl. It’s me.”
Elowen sagged with relief, recognizing Magister Thorne’s gruff voice. She hurried to unbolt the door, ushering her mentor inside.
“Magister! I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow at least. How was your journey? Did you find-”
Thorne brushed past her, shrugging off his travel-stained cloak. In the dim light, Elowen could see that his face was drawn and haggard, his grey beard unkempt.
“Light a lamp,” he ordered curtly. “And fetch me some wine.”
Elowen scrambled to obey, lighting the shop’s lamps and pouring a goblet of spiced wine from the cask behind the counter. By the time she returned, Thorne had settled heavily into a chair, massaging his temples.
“Here, Magister.” She offered the wine, hovering anxiously. “Are you unwell? Shall I prepare a tonic?”
Thorne waved her off, taking a long swallow of wine. “I’m fine. Just tired. The roads were bad - storms and flooding. I had to take the long way round through the mountains.”
“But you found what you were seeking?” Elowen pressed eagerly. “The frost lichen?”
Her mentor’s face darkened. “No. The slopes were bare - picked clean by poachers, no doubt. Greedy fools who don’t understand the damage they do.”
Elowen’s shoulders slumped in disappointment. Frost lichen was a key component in many advanced alchemical formulas. Without it, her studies would be limited.
“There may be some left high in the peaks,” Thorne continued, “but I’m too old to go scrambling up goat tracks. We’ll have to make do without for now.”
He drained his wine and stood abruptly. “I’m for bed. We’ll discuss your progress in the morning.”
“Wait!” Elowen blurted. “I’ve nearly finished the healing tonic you assigned. I just need to let it steep overnight, then-”
“In the morning,” Thorne repeated firmly. He paused at the foot of the stairs, his expression softening slightly. “You’ve done well, keeping things running smoothly in my absence. Get some rest yourself - you look exhausted.”
With that, he disappeared up the stairs, leaving Elowen alone in the lamplit shop. She sighed, collecting the empty wine goblet. So much for impressing her mentor with her diligence. Still, perhaps in the morning…
A flicker of movement outside the window caught her eye. Elowen peered out into the misty street, but saw only shadows. Shaking her head at her own jumpiness, she extinguished the lamps and headed upstairs to her own small room above the shop.
Sleep came fitfully that night, her dreams filled with visions of frost-rimed mountain peaks and shadowy figures lurking just out of sight.
Dawn broke grey and drizzly. By the time Elowen stumbled downstairs, bleary-eyed and yawning, Magister Thorne was already at work, grinding herbs with a mortar and pestle.
“Ah, there you are,” he said without looking up. “I was beginning to think you’d sleep the day away. Come, show me this tonic you’ve been working on.”
Elowen hurried to retrieve the steeping mixture from the laboratory upstairs. Her hands shook slightly as she presented the flask to her mentor. What if she’d made a mistake in the complex formula?
Thorne uncorked the flask, wafting the vapors toward his nose. His bushy eyebrows rose. “Hmm. The color is good… aroma is balanced… Let’s see.”
He poured a small amount into a cup, sipping cautiously. Elowen held her breath.
After a long moment, Thorne nodded. “Well done, girl. Near perfect. A bit heavy on the feverfew, perhaps, but overall an excellent effort.”
Elowen beamed with pride. “Thank you, Magister! I was worried about the proportions, but I followed your instructions exactly.”
“As well you should,” Thorne said gruffly, but there was a hint of approval in his tone. “You’ve come far in your studies. Soon you’ll be ready to attempt more advanced formulations.”
Elowen’s heart leapt. “Like the Elixir of Clarity? Or the Draught of Vigor?”
Her mentor’s expression grew stern. “Patience, child. Those are potent concoctions, not to be attempted lightly. For now, focus on perfecting the basics. Speaking of which-” He gestured to a stack of orders on the counter. “We’ve a busy day ahead. These remedies won’t brew themselves.”
And so the day passed in a flurry of activity - measuring ingredients, stoking the alchemical fires, decanting finished potions into bottles and vials. It wasn’t until late afternoon that a lull in customers allowed Elowen a moment’s respite.
As she wiped down the counter, the shop’s bell chimed. Elowen looked up to see a familiar face - Cedric, her childhood friend, now resplendent in the blue and silver uniform of the palace guard.
“Cedric!” She grinned, coming around the counter to greet him. “What brings you to our humble establishment? Don’t tell me you’re ill?”
Cedric laughed, clasping her hand warmly. “No, no. Fit as a fiddle, thanks to your tonics. I’m here on official business, actually.” He glanced around the shop. “Is Magister Thorne about?”
“He’s in the back, working. Shall I fetch him?”
“If you would. I’ve a message from the palace.”
Elowen’s curiosity was piqued, but she hurried to summon her mentor. Thorne emerged from the laboratory, wiping his hands on a cloth.
“Ah, young Cedric. What news from the palace?”
Cedric bowed slightly. “Magister. Lady Vivian sends her regards, and a request. She asks that you attend her this evening, to discuss a matter of some delicacy.”
Thorne’s brow furrowed. “Tonight? I’ve only just returned from a long journey. Surely it can wait until-”
“Her Ladyship was most insistent,” Cedric said apologetically. “She said it was a matter of some urgency.”
The alchemist sighed heavily. “Very well. Tell her I shall come after sunset.”
Cedric nodded, then turned to Elowen with a smile. “Perhaps we can catch up properly soon? It’s been too long.”
“I’d like that,” Elowen said, returning his smile. As the door closed behind him, she turned to her mentor curiously. “What do you suppose Lady Vivian wants?”
Thorne’s expression was troubled. “Nothing good, I’ll wager. That woman is as poisonous as nightshade, for all her charm.” He shook his head. “No matter. You can mind the shop this evening - I shouldn’t be gone long.”
But as twilight deepened into true night, Thorne had still not returned. Elowen paced restlessly, torn between worry and curiosity. What could be keeping him?
Unable to bear the suspense any longer, she made a decision. Throwing on her cloak, she slipped out into the misty streets, hurrying toward the nobles’ quarter where Lady Vivian kept her townhouse.
As she neared her destination, a cloaked figure emerged from the shadows of an alleyway. Elowen gasped, stumbling backward - only to recognize Cedric’s concerned face.
“Elowen? What are you doing out at this hour?”
She hesitated, then admitted, “I’m worried about Magister Thorne. He still hasn’t returned from his meeting with Lady Vivian.”
Cedric’s expression grew grave. “That’s… concerning. I escorted him to her Ladyship’s house myself, hours ago. He should have been back long since.”
A chill ran down Elowen’s spine. “Something’s wrong. We have to find out what’s happened.”
Cedric nodded grimly. “Come on. I know a back way into the house. With luck, we can discover what’s afoot without being seen.”
Heart pounding, Elowen followed her friend through a maze of narrow alleys and servants’ passages. Soon they found themselves in a dimly lit corridor lined with rich tapestries.
Voices drifted from behind a nearby door - one low and angry, the other smooth as honey. Elowen and Cedric crept closer, straining to hear.
“…absolutely out of the question,” came Thorne’s voice, tight with suppressed fury. “You go too far, Vivian. I’ll have no part in this madness.”
“Don’t be a fool, Thorne,” Lady Vivian purred. “Think of the possibilities! Eternal youth, boundless vitality - we could change the very nature of existence itself.”
“At what cost?” Thorne snapped. “You meddle with forces beyond your ken. I’ve told you, it cannot be done. The risks-”
“Risks?” Vivian laughed coldly. “What of reward? Think of the power, the wealth to be gained! You could have anything you desire.”
“What I desire,” Thorne said quietly, “is for you to abandon this insane scheme. There are lines that must not be crossed, Vivian. Not for any price.”
There was a long silence. When Lady Vivian spoke again, her voice had lost its silken charm. “I had hoped you would see reason, old friend. But if you will not help me willingly… well. There are other ways.”
Elowen’s blood ran cold at the menace in the noblewoman’s tone. She started forward, ready to burst in - but Cedric caught her arm, shaking his head in warning.
Before either of them could decide what to do, the door flew open. Magister Thorne stormed out, his face thunderous. He halted abruptly at the sight of his apprentice and the young guard.
“Elowen? What in blazes are you doing here?” His eyes narrowed dangerously. “What did you hear?”
Elowen opened her mouth, but no words came. It was Cedric who answered smoothly, “Nothing of consequence, Magister. We were concerned when you did not return, and came to escort you home.”
Thorne’s scowl deepened, but he only grunted, “Then let us be gone from this accursed place. Now.”
As they hurried through the fog-shrouded streets, Elowen’s mind whirled. What was the secret project Lady Vivian had proposed? What terrible risks did it entail? And why had her mentor reacted with such vehemence?
She longed to ask, but one look at Thorne’s thunderous expression quelled any thought of questions. The walk back to the shop passed in tense silence.
At the door, Cedric bowed slightly. “I’ll bid you both good night. Magister… is there anything else you require?”
Thorne shook his head curtly. “No. But I thank you for your discretion, lad. Some things are best left unspoken.”
As Cedric melted into the mist, Thorne fixed Elowen with a piercing stare. “As for you - we’ll speak of this in the morning. For now, get some sleep. And Elowen?” His voice softened slightly. “Whatever you may have overheard tonight… forget it. For your own sake.”
With that cryptic warning, he disappeared into his private quarters, leaving Elowen alone with her swirling thoughts and unanswered questions.
Sleep proved elusive that night. Elowen tossed and turned, her mind racing. What secret project could be so dangerous that her mentor would refuse even to discuss it? And what did Lady Vivian hope to gain?
As dawn’s pale light crept through her window, Elowen gave up on rest. She dressed quickly and slipped downstairs, determined to corner Magister Thorne and demand answers.
But the laboratory was empty, the fires cold. On the workbench lay a hastily scrawled note:
“Elowen - Urgent business calls me away. Mind the shop. I’ll return in a few days. DO NOT attempt any advanced formulations in my absence. -Thorne”
Elowen crumpled the note in frustration. More secrets, more evasions. What was her mentor hiding?
The day crawled by, each hour seeming to last an eternity. Elowen went through the motions of tending the shop, her mind far away. As dusk fell, the bell over the door chimed.
Elowen looked up, expecting to see a late customer - and froze. Lady Vivian stood in the doorway, resplendent in a gown of emerald silk.
“Good evening, child,” the noblewoman said with a dazzling smile. “I had hoped to find Magister Thorne, but perhaps you can assist me instead.”
Elowen’s mouth went dry. “I… I’m sorry, my lady, but the Magister is away on business. He left strict instructions not to attempt any advanced formulations in his absence.”
“Did he now?” Lady Vivian’s eyes glittered. “How vexing. Still, I’m sure a clever girl like you could manage a simple request.”
She produced a small leather pouch, spilling its contents onto the counter. Elowen gasped. Amid a scatter of gold coins lay a sprig of delicate white flowers - frost lichen, one of the rarest alchemical ingredients in the kingdom.
“I require a particular tonic,” Lady Vivian continued smoothly. “Nothing too taxing, I’m sure. These should cover the cost of materials.” She gestured to the gold. “And of course, I would make it worth your while.”
Elowen’s head spun. The coins alone were more than she earned in a year. And the frost lichen - with that, she could attempt some of the most powerful, challenging formulations in her mentor’s books.
“I… I don’t know,” she stammered. “Magister Thorne would be furious if I-”
“Come now,” Lady Vivian coaxed. “Surely you’re not content to remain a mere apprentice forever? This is your chance to prove your worth, to show what you’re truly capable of. Who knows? With my patronage, you could even open your own shop one day.”
Elowen’s resolve wavered. It was true that Thorne often held her back, insisting she master the basics before attempting more advanced work. But she knew she was ready for greater challenges. And with an opportunity like this…
“What sort of tonic did you have in mind?” she heard herself asking.
Lady Vivian’s smile widened. “Nothing too complex. A simple vitality draught - to restore youth and vigor. I’m sure you can manage that much?”
Elowen hesitated. There was something in the noblewoman’s tone, a hint of hidden meaning. But the lure of the frost lichen was too strong to resist.
“I… I can try,” she said at last. “But I’ll need time. A few days, at least.”
“Of course, of course,” Lady Vivian said magnanimously. “Take all the time you need. I’ll return in three days’ time to collect the fruits of your labor.”
As the door closed behind her, Elowen stared at the frost lichen and coins on the counter. What had she gotten herself into?
The next two days passed in a blur of feverish activity. Elowen pored over Thorne’s most advanced texts, searching for the perfect formula. She discarded a dozen possibilities before settling on a promising recipe - one that promised to “restore the vital essence of youth.”
It was complex, demanding the precise balance of rare ingredients. But with the frost lichen as a catalyst, Elowen was confident she could manage it.
As she worked, a nagging voice in the back of her mind whispered doubts. What if she made a mistake? What if the potion proved dangerous? What would Magister Thorne say when he discovered what she’d done?
But each time those doubts surfaced, Elowen pushed them aside. This was her chance to prove herself, to show the world what she was capable of. She couldn’t falter now.
On the morning of the third day, Elowen decanted the finished elixir into a crystal vial. The liquid inside shimmered with an opalescent glow, seeming to shift colors as she turned it in the light.
She corked it carefully, then sat back with a mixture of pride and trepidation. It was done. Now she could only wait for Lady Vivian’s return - and hope that her creation lived up to expectations.
The hours crawled by. Elowen paced restlessly, starting at every sound. What if Lady Vivian didn’t come? What if Magister Thorne returned early and discovered what she’d done?
Just as the last light of day was fading, the shop’s bell chimed. Elowen’s heart leapt into her throat as Lady Vivian glided in, looking even more regal than before.
“Well, child?” the noblewoman asked, her eyes gleaming. “Were you successful?”
Wordlessly, Elowen produced the crystal vial. Lady Vivian’s breath caught as she saw the shimmering liquid within.
“Magnificent,” she breathed. “Simply magnificent. I knew you had it in you, girl. Now, the price we agreed upon…”
She produced a heavy purse, spilling more gold across the counter. Elowen’s eyes widened at the sheer amount - it was a fortune, more than she’d ever dreamed of possessing.
“My lady,” she said hesitantly. “I… I’m not sure I should accept this. Magister Thorne-”
“Need never know,” Lady Vivian said smoothly. “This is between us, dear girl. A little secret, shall we say? Now, tell me - how is the elixir to be used?”
Elowen swallowed hard. “It… it should be taken in small doses. No more than a few drops at a time. And my lady, I must warn you - I cannot guarantee its effects. This formula is experimental, and-”
“Yes, yes,” Lady Vivian said impatiently. “I understand the risks. Now, if there’s nothing else?”
Before Elowen could respond, the noblewoman had swept out of the shop, the precious vial clutched in her hand. Elowen was left staring at the pile of gold on the counter, wondering if she’d made a terrible mistake.
The next few days passed in a haze of guilt and anxiety. Elowen jumped at every sound, certain that at any moment Magister Thorne would return and demand to know what she’d done.
But as one day stretched into the next with no sign of her mentor, a new worry began to gnaw at her. What if something had happened to him? What if Lady Vivian had done something to ensure his continued absence?
Unable to bear the suspense any longer, Elowen decided to seek out Cedric. Perhaps he would have news from the palace, some hint of what was really going on.
She found him at his usual post near the palace gates, looking tired and harried. His face lit up at the sight of her, though, and he waved her over eagerly.
“Elowen! Thank the gods. I was about to come find you myself.”
Her heart sank. “What’s wrong? Is it Magister Thorne?”
Cedric shook his head. “No, I’ve heard nothing of him. But there are… strange rumors circulating. About Lady Vivian.”
Elowen’s blood ran cold. “What sort of rumors?”
Cedric glanced around, then leaned in close. “They say she’s changed, somehow. That she looks… younger. Unnaturally so. And there are whispers of secret experiments, of dark magics.”
Elowen felt the color drain from her face. “Oh no. Oh no no no…”
“Elowen?” Cedric’s voice sharpened with concern. “What is it? What do you know?”
She opened her mouth to confess everything - but before she could speak, a commotion erupted at the palace gates. Guards were shouting, people running.
“What in blazes?” Cedric muttered, turning to see what was happening. Then his eyes widened in shock. “By all the gods…”
Elowen followed his gaze - and felt her heart stop.
Striding through the gates was a figure that could only be Lady Vivian… but changed almost beyond recognition. Her skin glowed with unnatural vitality, her hair a cascade of molten gold. She looked no older than twenty, radiantly beautiful - and utterly, terrifyingly inhuman.
As they watched in horror, Lady Vivian raised her arms. A pulse of energy rippled out from her, and the guards nearest her crumpled to the ground.
“You see?” she cried, her voice ringing with unearthly power. “You see what I have become? No more shall age and death hold sway over us. I have found the key to eternal youth, eternal power!”
Elowen sagged against Cedric, sick with the realization of what she had done. “This is my fault,” she whispered. “I created the elixir she used. I never thought…”
Cedric’s arms tightened around her. “We have to stop her. Somehow.”
But even as he spoke, more guards were falling before Lady Vivian’s onslaught. Those still standing seemed mesmerized by her otherworldly beauty, unable or unwilling to raise a hand against her.
“How?” Elowen asked despairingly. “What can we possibly do against that kind of power?”
A familiar voice spoke from behind them: “We fight fire with fire.”
Elowen whirled to see Magister Thorne standing there, his face grim and determined. In his hand he clutched a small vial filled with swirling golden liquid.
“Magister!” she cried. “You’re alive! But how… where have you been?”
“Seeking this,” he said, holding up the vial. “The only thing that can counter what Vivian has unleashed. A true Elixir of Life - not the twisted abomination she’s created.”
Elowen’s eyes widened. “But… but you always said such a thing was impossible. That the risks were too great.”
Thorne’s expression softened slightly. “I was wrong to keep so many secrets from you, child. I thought to protect you from knowledge too dangerous to possess. But in doing so, I left you vulnerable.” He sighed heavily. “We’ll speak of this later - for now, we have a madwoman to stop.”
With that, he strode toward the chaos at the gates, Elowen and Cedric hurrying in his wake. As they drew near, Lady Vivian turned to face them, her inhumanly beautiful face twisting in a snarl.
“Thorne,” she hissed. “Come to grovel at my feet? To beg forgiveness for your shortsightedness?”
“I’ve come to end this madness,” Thorne replied steadily. “It’s not too late, Vivian. The elixir’s effects can still be reversed.”
Lady Vivian threw back her head and laughed, the sound sending chills down Elowen’s spine. “Reverse it? Why would I ever want that? I have become a goddess!”
“You’ve become a monster,” Thorne countered. “And you’ll destroy yourself - and half the kingdom with you - if this continues.”
“Liar!” Vivian shrieked. She raised her hand, crackling with eldritch energy - but before she could strike, Thorne unstoppered his vial and flung its contents at her.
The golden liquid struck Lady Vivian full in the face. She screamed, a sound of mingled rage and agony that seemed to shake the very foundations of the earth.
For a moment that stretched into eternity, Elowen watched in horrified fascination as Vivian’s form rippled and twisted. The unnatural beauty melted away, replaced by…
Elowen gasped. Where the terrifying goddess-creature had stood moments before, there was now only a frail old woman, her face lined with age and sorrow.
“What… what have you done to me?” Vivian croaked, staring at her wizened hands in disbelief.
“I’ve given you back your true self,” Thorne said gently. “The self you tried so hard to escape.”
Vivian crumpled to the ground, weeping. As guards cautiously approached to take her into custody, Thorne turned to Elowen with a weary smile.
“Well, my girl. I think it’s time we had a long talk about the responsibilities that come with power - and the dangers of seeking shortcuts to knowledge.”
Elowen nodded, feeling a complex mix of emotions - relief, shame, and a fierce determination to learn from her mistakes.
As they walked away from the scene of chaos, Cedric fell into step beside her. He took her hand, squeezing it gently. “Are you all right?”
Elowen managed a shaky smile. “I will be. Eventually.” She looked up at Magister Thorne’s retreating back, then squared her shoulders. “I have a lot to learn. But I’m ready now - truly ready - to face whatever challenges lie ahead.”
And with that, master and apprentice made their way back to the little alchemist’s shop, where a new chapter in both their lives was about to begin.