“These are...” He picked up a tube and examined the small balls. “Yeah, I have no idea.”
“Specialized capsules used for breeding certain types of bees in apiary farms,” Syn explained. “The capsule will dissolve and let the phosphorite mix in without the solution being set on fire. Finding these were much harder than you would expect. Especially ones at this size.”
“Well, I for one would never have thought of using these in such a manner.”
“Yes, you’re welcome.”
“I was thanking the author of the recipe.”
“I know, but the instructions list out an entirely unorthodox method with equipment you don’t have access to, so I came up with the alternative solution.” She stood tall with her arms crossed under a chest and wore an all too pleased grin.
“Then thank you for coming up with this solution.”
“I already accepted it, but you can thank me after trying it. I still don’t know if it will work as I expect.”
“Of course you don’t.” Aleister sighed, and filled up one capsule with phosphorite.
The texture of the capsule was pudding like, but solid. They split in half, the bottom still being connected, and with the edge of the piece having a slight indent to make sure the seal was airtight. He put on the capsules over the flask, and now understood what Syn meant by having the correct opening type. The fit was tight. He needed to squeeze the capsule in. But wouldn’t that make a splash?
“Wait,” Syn interjected, stopping him from pushing it all the way. “Press it in with the cork. The capsule should dissolve on impact and the whole point of this method is to prevent the alchemical fire from coming into contact with the outside air.”
“I was literally thinking about that.” Aleister already held the top in his other hand, and pressed the capsule down. He realized that there was another upside to this, as if the capsule somehow burst while he pressed it. The flask would still be sealed, and all the phosphorite would mix with the solution, anyway.
Just as Syn expected, the capsule dissolved. As the powder contacted the liquid, bubbles formed with a vicious ferocity. The transparent inside fogged up, and he could hear a kettle like hiss amongst the pops.
“Is this supposed to happen?”
“Yes.”
“So, should I consider this a success and work on the others.”
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“Wait until the fizzing stops and the liquid turns into an ashen yet clear grey. In case the flask explodes and catches your room on fire.”
“I didn’t even consider that as a possibility to such the extent that I don’t have any safety precautions prepared at all.”
“My plan was quite ingenious, so I expected nothing to go wrong in the first place.”
“But what if I messed up?”
“I simplified the instructions to such an extent that even if you messed up, it would be at a step where no damage would be done except to the wasted materials. Don’t you feel as if it were too easy?”
“A little bit.”
“Your welcome. Of course, the result of this does mean your result won’t be perfect, nor will the alchemical fire be as potent, but I know there was no way you would succeed that way first try.”
“You doubt my abilities?”
“Yes, and you also doubt yourself, and that just spells a recipe for disaster.”
Aleister rolled his eyes. But she wasn’t wrong.
The noises of bubbling and hisses faded away after a minute, leaving behind a translucent grey liquid. He swished the flask a few times to make sure the phosphite completely dissolved. “Success?”
“Although it is inferior to a superior batch, you can consider this a success.”
“Great.” Aleister prepared the rest of the flasks as he asked, “What does a perfect solution of alchemical fire look like, anyway?”
“It would be perfectly clear, like the alcohol spirit. After all, that is the principal component and acts as the fuel. The tree sap acts as the thickener and emulsifier, while the magnesite and phosphorite give it the property to burn upon contact with the air.”
“How does this compare to a more potent version?”
“Twenty-five percent on the low end and forty percent on the higher.”
“That’s quite a bit.”
“In reality, those numbers only matter when other recipes call for alchemical fire. Otherwise, if you break the flask and use it to create a fire, it’s still going to create a fire. Although, it means you can store less in a flask and still have the same sized fire.”
Aleister tapped on a flask with a finger multiple times. “I don’t know how safe I feel carrying these around. This glass is fragile.”
“As I said, they didn’t have the right type of flask,” Syn said with a shake of her head. She dropped down and sat on top of his desk. “Bologna phials are what you need. They’re created by cooling the inside of the glass at an infinitesimally slower rate than the outside. With this, you could essentially use the outside glass as a hammer while still bursting open with a single scratch to the inside glass. Then, all you would need is a small safety pin able to be pushed in when you wish to use it.”
Aleister whistled. “Just based on that, those bottles sound like an absolute pain to craft, and therefore—expensive. Although, I wonder if Luo Yun could craft some for me. I know he just crafts weapons, but glasswork is close enough. Maybe.”
“Sit. I need to do this while it still separates the alkemical anima,” Syn said.
Aleister did as instructed and, with closed eyes, sat in his normal meditative position. He took in a deep breath as Syn placed both of her hands on his back. Nothing happened for several moments until a burning sensation echoed out from the base of her palms. The energy spread throughout his body. He focused in on that feeling. It burned, but it wasn’t hot. Instead, it was similar to the burn of an ice bath. As if all of his pores had opened, and the surrounding air pricked at him with pins and needles. Although immersed in the feeling, it soon faded, and he opened his eyes.
More time had passed than he realized, as the burning sun was no longer visible through his window. Instead, the night sky only carried a lonely, waxing moon.
Syn let out an audible sigh. “Damn.”