Haemish stood in the lab once more after their evening spent walking and learning more about the Slime creature. He was all the more convinced that the beast was someone who had a genuine interest in bettering himself. That was something Haemish could work with. Making him an apprentice in the most unusual way just added to his excitement. The spatial pouch discussion added to his excitement. As Haemish learned more, his original intention for the creature had taken a back seat, and he could not let that happen. He had waited long enough to test the sample he had taken from the Slime.
The initial tests had shown all ordinary information, but those were simple tests that any Alchemist could do. A Potion Master could do so much more. Understanding the root material or, in this case, the creature the sample came from just one of the things that he could learn. When he took the sample, understanding the animal's stats, skills, abilities, and other information was more complicated but still possible. He would need to delve deeper, and Aarav remained guarded about many things.
He was willing to let the creature have its secrets for the most part. There was more to the nickname he had told them to use for him. Foremost of which his two names sounded nothing alike, weren’t nicknames supposed to be a simpler version of the original or from some shared experience? What experiences could a Slime have had in the forest?
He would be the first to admit he did not know as much about the forest as those civilisations that chose to live there or made it their home. Even though King Borowyn presided over the forest, he accepted their sovereignty. He had been in with Haemish to meet their monarchs and such but only a handful of times over the centuries and only to make sure their alliances still held. If they decided to come out of the forest and annihilate them all, Darf would be hard-pressed to defend itself. Especially when Pravwell would do nothing if Brewyn burned. Pravwell would have free reign if that ever happened, though. Letting the scum of Pravwell loose would be the worst thing that could happen. That reason alone was enough to ensure Brewyn had to remain standing.
Haemish closed his eyes and breathed; those political debates were not his to consider. He had a scientific mind, and plenty of people in Darf and even Brewyn had more political discussion sense.
He had important things to do. He moved to the cupboard hidden behind an illusion screen. He took out the vial of clear fluid he had extracted from Aarav or Resh, whatever he wanted to call himself. Haemish couldn’t stop a smile forming on his lips; the Slime was like a child trying things for the first time. Things like lying and being subtle in his intentions. Haemish found it endearing, and it made the Potion Master more inclined to trust the little creature, if only because he would know when Aarav lied to him.
The vial had started green as it was the colour he had adopted at the time but changed to clear once it lost contact with the Slime. Could this be its natural state? Then moved it over to a glass dish and poured in a few drops. The liquid was viscous, and Haemish was surprised it was not solid. He could tell the density just from holding it. As he observed, though, the Slime seemed to just sit in the tray. Haemish was unsure why he expected it to move, Aarav moved, but this was just a sample from the same body. Blood didn’t vibrate just because a person could walk. But then he reasoned with himself. A human was nowhere near as study-worthy as Aarav was.
The sample he had taken was around three or four spoons worth, not a lot in the grand scheme of things, and if Haemish missed his guess, Aarav had regained that within a few minutes, if not less. It was still a more dishonest way of acquiring the sample that Haemish would have liked, but the Queen had ordered it, and she would be checking in on him in the next few hours, if not less. “So far, nothing to report, Your Majesty.” Haemish could see that it was not going to go well for him.
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“What was that Haemish?” As the cold voice cut through his thoughts, a chill ran up his spine. “Did you say something? I had just come to check on my favourite Potion Master!” He was the only Potion Master the Queen knew, and they both knew it.
“Of course, my Queen.” Haemish bowed, “So far in my testing, nothing to report. I am not sure what I am testing for, though. I have some ideas, and I will try them out. I have the sample here, but the primary is unaware of my tests. He has gone back to his room on the third floor.
“As you can see, I have just had the opportunity to begin.” Haemish showed the Queen the dish where some of the samples sat. Is it vibrating? No, I just nudged the table.
Queen Isabella stepped up to the work table. She examined the slime in the dish, nothing to distinguish it from any other viscous, transparent liquid. The ripples continued to work through it before settling to perfectly smooth again. “Ah, I thought something was happening.” Haemish nervously chuckled, moving next to Queen Isabella and tipping the rest of the vial into the dish. Again it did not behave like any liquid he had worked with before, as no speck of the liquid remained in the vial when he poured. It all came out smoothly if slowly—settling on top of the original drops and vibrating again.
“I can’t tell if the vibrations are from you pouring it or the liquid itself.” The Queen intoned.
“I agree with you, and it is not easy to tell. But I will continue to test it and see what happens.”
“Very well, Haemish, but I expect some type of result soon. You know I am not a patient woman.” The Queen did not glance away from the Slime in the dish for a moment as she spoke.
Haemish suppressed the need to shiver ruthlessly, now was not the time. “Of course, Your Majesty, I understand, and I will do my utmost.”
“If you need me to take the creature off your hands for a few days so you can work on this, I will do so.” She implied the threat.
“No, no, that will not be necessary. It will be fine; the primary might be more amenable if we work together.” Haemish said, trying and failing to hide the sweat starting to trickle down his forehead. Why did this woman make him so nervous? He was not one to be flustered by people. But now, he had two women making him sweat and feeling tongue-tied, albeit for two very different reasons.
The Queen looked at him for a long moment until Haemish thought his knees might give out from the strain, then just turned and walked out without another word.
“Whew!” Haemish let out a breath and calmed his racing heart. What power did the woman have? “I need to take a breather,” Haemish said, stepping out of the lab and taking a few rounds in the corridors to admire the decor. It always had a calming effect on his mind. That had been the King’s intention with the designs and carving. The sconces had beautiful filigree work that appeased.
As the light from the sun faded, the glow orbs slowly brightened. Those glow lights in the sconces were a marvel of their own, made by light mages not native to Darf. They were globes that glowed in contrast to the darkness. The darker it grew, the brighter they became. It was a marvel of ingenuity and another of mysteries he had not been able to access. He appreciated the work even if he didn’t understand it. Unfortunately, someone had broken the one in the Alchemical lab while studying it in the first week of their arrival in the palace. They would, of course, remain nameless and therefore blameless. Unfortunately, breaking it by accident had not yielded any secrets, so the question continued to itch at the inside of his brain.
Haemish ached to take one of them down and study its making. Still, he had been forbidden such proclivities on pain of banishment from Darf, or he had to pay for the replacement. He was better off getting banned, a punishment that would be astronomically expensive. “Urgh, tempt with your incredible secrets, why don’t you!”
Talking to the singular Light Mage that had chosen to stay with her family as the resident maintenance person was also frustratingly tight-lipped. Her husband had been quite vocal about his persistence. Being banned from talking to their whole family may have been a punishment by royal decree, no less. Each time he saw them was a marvel and a reminder. As it grew darker outside, the reminder grew brighter along with the spectacle.
He couldn’t take it anymore, and he refused to have one in his sleeping rooms. Otherwise, he would want to play with it non-stop. No, it was not only that; he also had work to do and the Ice Queen breathing over his shoulder.