Athias raised a small vial towards the light of nearby candles. The red liquid inside wasn’t dark enough and held a peculiar murkiness that store bought potions lacked. Small pieces of the ingredients used to create it floated within.
[Item: Subpar Healing potion]
[Description: Made by the hands of a novice, this potion falls short of its true potential. Good for superficial cuts and stemming blood loss from minor wounds but little else.]
It was far from the result he’d been aiming for but it was better than nothing.
A golden limb reached up to him. Athias handed over his lack luster creation, watching as Scrap brought it over to a nearby table and placed it beside a handful of other similarly colored vials. There were minor differences in shading but the murkiness persisted in all of them.
After they narrowly avoided being kicked out of the Silver-Blood Inn for the foul smells, Bothela had allowed Athias and Remiel to make use of a ventilated backroom in her apothecary in exchange for some gold. It wasn’t particularly big, containing old boxes and shelves that they used to set up their equipment. The bronze colored vents that lined one of the stone walls provided an escape for any fumes they created.
Despite the risk of Bothela wandering in, Remiel had brought Scrap along to test its motor stability.
The beat up automaton was now somewhat stable in its movements after some adjustments though problems still existed. At times it stopped too slow when following Remiel. A few empty vials had been shattered under the pressure of its grip. The volume of the whirls that came from it fluctuated too, sometimes faint or as loud as the steps of a centurion.
It was interesting to watch the time worn automaton obey the orders of someone rather than indiscriminately attack. Maybe if she kept messing with their technology, they might just learn more about the Dwemer and their advancements.
“And I’m just about done.” Remiel said from the other side of the room. She brandished a tall dark gray bottle. “What do you think? This should make you more resistant to magicka.”
He couldn’t see the liquid itself but based off the faint flowery scent wafting from its uncorked top and the lack of fumes, it was at least better than those potions they chucked about in Nchuand-Zel.
As for the effects-
[Item: Remiel’s Potion of Magic Resistance]
[Description: Consuming this potion disrupts magicka activity within and around the user. While this unintended result does decrease the power of magicka based attacks and effects it also makes it harder for the drinker to call upon their own magicka.]
A potion like that would be perfect for Auri. It went without saying why it wasn’t so good for the two of them; depending on how difficult it became to use magicka it could get them killed as easily as it saved them.
“Are you going to test it?” Athias asked.
“Good idea, glad you volunteered.” Remiel grabbed a small vial from one of the boxes near here and poured some of the potions dark blue liquid into the clear container.
“You’re drinking that thing.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to be the first to try it? It could be fun to find out if there are any unexpected surprises.” Remiel tried to convince him with a smile.
“I’ll let you have that fun. We wouldn’t be able to test it properly if I drunk it anyways. You don’t know any destruction spells.”
“Hey, I know Sparks. Sort of.” Remiel didn’t believe in her own argument, begrudgingly pulling back the offered vial without waiting for response. “Make sure you don’t burn my hair.”
“I know Frostbite and Sparks if that’s more your speed.” Athias said with a chuckle. She was willing to be burnt for the sake of testing a potion but drew that line at hair damage. He didn’t have much room to call someone odd but Remiel fit the bill perfectly.
“No, no. Forget what I said and stick to the flames.” Remiel said. She tipped her head back and drained the vial’s contents in a single gulp, grimacing as she wiped the remnants from her mouth. The taste didn’t match the smell.
She placed the vial down and clapped her face a few times, then pulled back the sleeve of an arm. “Alright. Hit me.”
Athias, not fully recovered in the magicka department but more than capable of casting spells, called upon his energy and directed it into the air around him. The invisible sphere of influence expanded just enough to reach Remiel.
“Uhhhh, are you going to-whoa!” Remiel recoiled and her eyes unfocused. He could only imagine how disorienting Blur was. “This is an unexpected a side effect. I don’t think any of the ingredients I used had hallucinogenic properties”
“It’s an illusion spell. It looks like your potion makes you more resistant to it.” Athias explained. Normally he didn’t have to put so much magicka in the air to alter another’s perception. He pulled his magicka back in and released a severely weakened stream of flames at her exposed hand.
Remiel instinctively flinched, biting down on her bottom lip. No grunts or screams left her. She didn’t move either. It wasn’t hot enough to burn her under the effects of that potion. Athias slowly increased the heat of the flames, the rate at which his magicka bar drained increasing.
Finally, Remiel’s health bar inched backwards.
A click filled the room.
Athias dropped the spell and twisted around, a ward thrown up in that fraction of a second. Scrap’s blade stalled, unable to pierce or shatter the magical shield. It propelled itself off of it, skittering around the ground the moment it landed for another strike at him.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
“Stop, Scrap!” The automaton froze up the moment the order left Remiel. Athias kept up his ward just in case as he looked towards her. She was nursing her reddened hand, just as taken aback by the abrupt attack. “S-Sorry, that was my fault. His first order is to protect me which probably supersedes the one not to harm you or Auri. I should’ve know that would happen.”
“Now you do.” Athias said as he let the ward fade away. It wasn’t intentional and he wasn’t hurt so he didn’t care to make a big deal about it. If anything, it was interesting. So, automatons were capable of disregarding orders to accomplish those designated as more important? Or did that only apply to Scrap? Remiel’s interference made the thing even more of an outlier than its damaged programming did.
“Exactly. Trial and error is what science is all about.” Remiel agreed quickly as if afraid he’d go back on his stance. She rounded Athias, kneeling down to chide Scrap as though it was a dog.
Remiel really was odd.
“You should heal yourself.” Athias said.
“Oh, right.” A golden orb, dimmer in color compared to the ones he used, appeared in her hand. It brightened up after she closed her eyes and the faint burn vanished. “That was harder than expected. A side effect of the potion? What did I do wrong?”
Remiel returned to her ingredients and potion stations, all the while muttering to herself. Hopefully she managed to make something free of or with a less debilitating side effect before they left. Athias followed her example, grabbing mortar and pedestal.
He needed to refine this crappy health potion of his too.
----------------------------------------
Athias and Remiel entered the Silver-Blood Inn, Scrap hidden in the latter’s pack. They’d spent the better part of the day at Hag’s Cure so people filled the main hall, chatting amongst friends or drinking the night away.
He joined Auri at their usual corner table while Remiel headed off to her room.
Auri sniffed as he took a seat, setting down her metal tankard of water. “You smell.”
“Trust me, I know.” Athias agreed, mostly breathing through his mouth at this point. A day surrounded by the fumes of failed and questionable potions wasn’t a recipe for good hygiene. “I blame you.”
Auri raised a brow, lips curved upwards. “And how is it my fault you smell like a dead skeever?”
He placed three vials on the table between them. The rest had been thrown away, all building blocks for these.
[Item: Laggard Healing Potion]
[Description: Created by the hands of the novice, the potion’s texture and smell leaves much to be desired. However, after a short delay, it is capable of completely healing minor wounds.]
It still fell short of his goal but it would do after a single day of nonstop practice. You'd think he would’ve earned a level or two in alchemy but these barely acceptable creations hardly filled up the constellation’s bar.
“Three health potions made mostly from the charred hide of skeever and the wings of butterflies.” He said while picking one up and shaking it. The red liquid was close enough to crimson, only a shade or so off, with miniscule pieces of ingredients dancing and twirling about. “It smells like crap and tastes even worse but you can use them.”
He passed the vial off to Auri who twisted and turned it about, picking out every little detail she could. “I thought the alchemists here didn’t keep track of what ingredients went into every potion. Where did you find these?”
“I made them. Remiel-“ Athias thought better of saying taught. Her instructions and guidance boiled down to offering him a heavily annotated list of personal recipes with directions learned through her first-hand experience. She did direct him here and there, but had been far more interested in jotting down Scrap’s behavior. That woman was smart and talented. Those traits didn’t translate to being a good teacher. “-helped out.”
Curiosity satisfied, Auri placed the vial with the rest. Then she gave him a wide smile. He was use to seeing her smiles and grin; they and her went hand in hand. This was different. The others were just as genuine but this one truly reached her eyes.
“Thank you.” She said.
“You saved my life. You’re the last person who should be thanking me for anything.” Athias said. He couldn’t help but return the smile. Sure, they didn’t meet his expectations, but if those potions made her so happy they couldn’t be that bad.
“And I got my own personal campfire and alchemist out of it.” Auri’s smile shifted to one of her playful grins. Both looked good on her. “Now if only he knew how to bathe. It almost would’ve been a fair trade.”
Athias clicked his tongue. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll start charging you.”
“Charging for what?” Remiel asked as she took up her seat across from Athias.
“We were just talking about his career as a campfire. I think quite a few people would pay to have one that walks around and sets itself up.” Auri said getting a shake of the head from him.
“The control he has over his pyromancy is quite respectable. Truth be told, I am rather curious about his skill with magicka.” Remiel placed Athias under an inquisitive stare. “You were completely exhausted from our time in Nchuand-Zel but you seem perfectly fine after only a few days. Did you drink some sort of elixir or use some enchanted equipment?”
“Why would I have needed to do any of that? It’s been days.” Athias said.
“Exactly, days. You were worse off than me but you already look ready to use plenty of spells while I still haven’t completely recovered.” Remiel explained, her stare somehow intensified as she inched her head towards him. “I know I’m not exactly skilled with magicka but I’m quite certain I studied enough to know what is and isn’t normal. Maybe you’re a daedra posing as a mortal? Or maybe you’ve made a deal with one of the princes? Don’t worry, I won’t judge you, but I would like to study you.”
“If any of that were true I don’t think an inn of a places would be the place to have that conversation.” Athias looked towards a few of the more keen eared patrons who were a bit too obvious about their eavesdropping. “I just happen to be good with magicka.”
“Right.” Remiel remained unconvinced, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Blink if you’re some kind of magical creature posing as a mortal.”
And thus began an impromptu staring contest.
“I’ll let it go for now, but remember, I’m always willing to hear a confession.” Remiel relented, failing to fight off her need to blink. “We’ll be leaving in the next few days, correct?”
“That’s the plan.” Athias said.
“Have you decided where exactly we’re going?” He shook his head. Remiel eagerly pulled out an old map, unfurling it across the table after Auri set aside her tankard and potions. “Then if you don’t mind, I’d like to propose that we head towards the southeast. I’ve done some asking around and there’s a Dwemer tower people call the Reachwind Eyrie just off one of the roads.”
“A tower? Not the top of a ruin?” Athias questioned. He couldn’t say he recognized the place’s name but a Dwemer tower made little sense to him.
“Strange, don’t you think? No one’s said anything about ruins but the Dwemer wouldn’t have a tower placed out in the open unless one of their cities were nearby. I intend to discover where this city is.” Remiel more or less voiced his thoughts about the place. “I’m not saying we have to go straight there but I was hoping we could head in that direction?”
“Why not.” Athias agreed with a shrug. Having some type of distant destination in mind wasn’t a bad thing as long as he got to wander about as he pleased on the way. It drew a little close to Falkreath’s territory but it’s not like some bounty hunters were going to find them gallivanting through the wilds if that Jarl had put a bounty on their heads.
“Great.” Remiel said as she rolled the map back up. “Now I am starving. I’ll be right back.”
“Bring me some mead.” Athias called out after her. He and Auri dropped into light hearted chatter like any other in the Inn, Remiel joining in once she returned.
By the time they were turning in for the night, he couldn’t help but wonder if Remiel was on to something. His birth-sign doubled his magicka regeneration and rendered him sensitive to the energy but was that truly enough to explain away his talent with it?
Something worth thinking about.