The rest of the class stopped as they watched Professor Quicksilver. More than a few alembics filled with steam, and he coughed meaningfully. “Please pay attention to your own experiments,” he said, tone gently chiding the rest of the class.
Even as the rest of the class began to refocus on their experiments, Jeb still felt part of their attention focused on him. He could make a few guesses at what they were thinking, most of which would probably be questions about how he had finished so quickly. Declan had asked him the same thing after a number of laboratory sessions in Theoretical Enchanting. Jeb had tried to explain that he just did what he had planned to do, but Declan never seemed quite able to copy him.
Jeb pushed the thought away, curious about what Professor Quicksilver was about to do. He pulled out a small dropper and carefully sucked up a small bead of the green substance. With his other hand, he started rummaging around in his desk for something. After a long moment, he proudly displayed a piece of paper, which he held out in front of him. Carefully squeezing the dropper, Quicksilver poured the drop of Alchemical Fire onto the piece of paper.
With a roar of flame, the paper suddenly burned a bright crimson. Jeb felt the flash of heat from where he was standing a few feet away. As the paper was consumed, the fire did not seem to die out. Instead, it started to fall, as though only partially constrained by gravity.
As it touched the floor, the flame began to spread. Just as Jeb was beginning to worry that the flame was going to consume the entire room, Quicksilver’s smile stopped, just for a moment.
“No.”
He spoke a single syllable, and yet it carried the weight of an eternity with it. For that brief instant, there was no trace of the jovial and forgetful Professor that Jeb was getting to know. There was only a figure of immense power, telling an Alchemical that it could not behave according to its Essence.
Jeb was completely unsurprised to see that the flame stopped at the Professor’s word. The crimson had disappeared, replaced by the standard yellows, reds, and oranges of any other piece of burning paper. The flame faded out in a few more seconds once it was no longer sustained by Magic.
“Sorry about that!” Professor Quicksilver gave a sheepish grin, all traces of seriousness completely gone again. “I had not thought that your Alchemical Fire would be so willing to burn. Given how quickly you were able to grasp the Essence, however, I suppose that I should not have been surprised.”
In a louder tone, he addressed the rest of the classroom, “in future terms, one of the skills you will need to develop is the ability to separate yourself from your Alchemicals. Until you do, everything you create will be tinged by the same motivations that you have. Jeb, as you can see, clearly has an innate drive to burn the world down.” He winked, clearly showing that he had been joking, but Jeb still felt his face flush.
The looks that he saw on his classmates as he walked back to his seat were far more inquisitive than they had been even as he walked to the front of the classroom. Something in their expressions told Jeb that they had, for whatever reason, written him off before. Now that they had heard the Professor’s praise, however, they were beginning to reevaluate those judgements. Jeb grimaced slightly and prepared to dismantle the alembic.
He glanced at his notes to confirm that there was nothing dangerous left in the residue. Seeing the note that any lingering Fire could be dealt with by the application of a small amount of Water, he carefully focused Attune Water Mana and pushed it into the apparatus. When the feeling of flames was gone, Jeb nodded and started taking the parts apart, washing each in distilled water to prevent any physical residue from sticking. As he carefully cleaned the setup, he watched as the other members of the course began creating their own Alchemical Fire.
For some reason that Jeb could not tell, every student’s Fire Essence joined the Distilled Water differently. None were as eager to combine as his had been, as far as Jeb could tell, but most still vigorously joined together. One of his classmates, however, stared in vexation at the two clear liquids which dispersed around each other, like oil and water.
“Professor Quicksilver,” she called, clearly unsure how to proceed, “did I do something wrong?”
After quickly making a mark of which student had just given him a vial of Alchemical Fire, Professor Quicksilver hurried over to the student.
“Interesting,” he said, and Jeb felt something quickly pulse out of the Professor in the direction of the flask. The two liquids began to mix, turning the sickly green color of Alchemical Fire. “Tell me,” he paused clearly trying to remember the student’s name.
“Annabeth,” she supplied helpfully.
“Annabeth,” he repeated, nodding, “do you have prior experience with Alchemy?”
She nodded stiffly. “Yes, sir. My parents are Alchemists, and they trained me in proper Essence separation when I was younger. It has been a few years since I last practiced the skill, however, so I may have made some mistakes.”
“Oh, no not at all!” he exclaimed. “One piece of information that the syllabus leaves out is that Alchemical Fire relies on the personal Essence of the Alchemist to bind. That is not typically an issue in Introduction to Alchemy, because the Academy only recommends those with no Alchemical experience to take the course. Is there a reason that you did not start with Intermediate Alchemy?”
Annabeth flushed slightly. “I didn’t want to have another difficult course this term,” she muttered.
“I am sorry, I did not hear what you said,” Professor Quicksilver replied, “my years working with Alchemicals has made me somewhat unable to hear quiet sounds.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I said that I was hoping to take an easy course this term!” she practically shouted. “I’m sorry. I will leave.” She packed up her bag as though planning to leave the room.
Professor Quicksilver held up a hand. “I can understand the motivation,” he said consolingly. “When I was a student here myself, I was never shy about scheduling myself so that I had at least one course I did not need to worry about. That being said, I do not believe that you would struggle in Intermediate Alchemy. If you wish to remain in this course, though, you are more than welcome to.”
“Oh,” Annabeth replied. “Thank you, Professor.” She set her bag back down and corked her bottle of Alchemical Fire. Handing it to Quicksilver, she continued, “I would like to remain in this course, if that is acceptable to you.”
He took the bottle with a nod and walked back to his desk. Jeb felt grateful to her for a moment. The rest of the class was no longer focused on him, instead paying attention to the girl who had yelled at her Professor. After a moment of the feeling, though, he felt bad. He shouldn’t be happy that someone else was suffering. As Professor Quicksilver began testing the rest of the class’s Alchemical Fire, Jeb thought about what he could do to make her feel better.
The thought was quickly chased from his mind as Jeb watched the many different ways that Alchemical Fire could act. There were similarities between every vial, to be certain. They all had very similar textures and colors, and all burned with crimson flame when Quicksilver placed a drop onto sheets of paper. That was where the similarities ended.
One burned in a single tongue that licked up to the ceiling of the room. Another seemed to almost crawl across the page, taking far longer than a flame should need to travel. As each flame devoured the page the Professor had given them, however, Jeb noticed that none of the others reached down towards the floor. They all faded away as the paper was consumed. Finally, Professor Quicksilver raised a bulb holding Annabeth’s Alchemical Fire.
When he dropped it on the page, it burned a vicious green. He waved a hand and the flame disappeared, leaving the rest of the page untouched.
“As you may have noticed,” Quicksilver began to lecture, “each of your vials of Alchemical Fire burned differently. That is because, in addition to the Essence of Fire that you pushed into the Distilled Water, a small amount of your own Essence is needed to catalyze the reaction. Annabeth,” he gestured to the student who seemed to be trying to hide behind her dismantled alembic, “was able to keep her Essence from interacting with the Alchemical, and as a result, did not initially produce Alchemical Fire. As a trained Alchemist, I decided to show the rest of you what control over your own personal Essence can allow, since many do not understand the value of Alchemy. In addition to controlling the color of the flame,” he poured another drop onto the paper.
This time it erupted in bright golden flames. Professor Quicksilver waved a hand and the flames once more guttered out as he continued to speak, “a well trained Alchemist is also in control of any Alchemical Magic which he has created. Of course, as you all saw, anyone can use an Alchemical that has been created, especially one as simple as Alchemical Fire.”
With the demonstration, everyone seemed to have forgotten about both Jeb and Annabeth. Jeb silently thanked the Professor, recognizing that he had not meant to draw unwanted attention to either student. As everyone continued to clean up from their experiments, Professor Quicksilver started walking around the classroom, offering feedback and advice. When he reached Jeb’s table, he murmured, “please stay after class ends today,” and continued his journey around the classroom.
Jeb had nothing else to do in the period, so he sat and watched the other students clean up from their experiments. A few still glanced at either him or Annabeth as they cleaned up, but they at least attempted to be subtle about their looks. If he hadn’t happened to make eye contact as they did, he likely wouldn’t have noticed them doing so. After a few minutes of waiting, the bells tolled out the end of the period, and the class all stood and began packing up to leave.
Jeb moved slowly, as though he was trying to make sure that he had not misplaced anything. In reality, he was simply trying to be covert about his staying late. The fact that he’d stayed after class without anyone caring countless times the past two terms didn’t occur to him.
As most of the class filed out, Jeb saw that Annabeth was still in the room with him. She looked at him as though waiting for him to leave, and he did the same to her. When the door shut behind the final other member of their course, Professor Quicksilver gestured for the two of them to come to the front of the classroom.
“I wanted to call the two of you together to apologize for my behavior during class today. While I meant no harm by poking fun at the two of you, I recognize that it can be uncomfortable when someone in a position of power over you mocks you, even in jest. I also recognize that there is not a good way for you to respond to my apology, which is why I kept both of you after class. I am sure that both of you, being more than prepared for Introduction to Alchemy, will be able to find something to bond over, even if it is just a mutual distaste for my lecturing style.”
With that, he walked out of the classroom through a door that Jeb would swear neither was there before he had opened it nor remained after it closed. In the absence of the Professor, he and Annabeth looked at each other, as though both was waiting for the other to speak.
Jeb broke the silence first. “I’m sorry that the Professor called you out in front of the entire course today,” he said, a little awkwardly.
She shrugged. “It’s really more on me for reacting so much to his question. I could have said anything else, rather than screaming at him.”
A few more seconds passed, and then she spoke again. “I’m sorry that the entire class has been looking at you like some kind of freak.”
Jeb blinked. He hadn’t been expecting an apology on behalf of the entire class, and especially not for that. “What do you mean?”
She stared at him, as though trying to gauge how legitimate his question was. She shook her head, clearly seeing something strange in his eyes. “Have you not noticed the way that the rest of the class acts?”
“Not really,” Jeb admitted, “I’ve been too focused on the material of the course to really pay any attention to anyone else.”
“You haven’t noticed that nobody asked you to join a study group with them, or to get a breakfast before class?” she countered, tone disbelieving.
“Now that you mention it,” Jeb reflected, “that is a little strange. I had just assumed that everyone already had their own friend groups. As for studying, though, it isn’t like there’s that much material to learn yet. I assumed that study groups would start to form as the content grew more difficult, or at least more demanding.”
“Oh,” Annabeth said softly. She seemed somehow sad as she continued, “I’m sorry for bringing it up then. I don’t want you to feel like you don’t belong in this course. Paragons know you seem to belong the most of anyone enrolled this term.” She stood up as though to leave the room.
“Hold on,” Jeb said, holding out his arm. “Why has the rest of the course been looking at me as though I’m a freak?” Her words had reminded him of the conversation he’d shared with Catherine during the party at the end of their first term. He’d meant to ask her what she had meant about his standing out, but never got around to doing so. Whatever Annabeth said, he would ask Catherine if that lined up with what she had meant to tell him.
She bit her lip, as though trying to find the right words to express what she was trying to communicate. Her eyes roamed up and down Jeb’s body as though that was somehow relevant to what she was going to say. “I apologize for being so blunt about this,” she began.