Carl started the process by placing the eye in a beaker.

He removed the stoppers and poured the contents of all ten healing vials on top of it, dropping a pinch of a white powder in with the rest of the contents. The addition made the eye release small jets of air and bubbles, almost making it look like it was dissolving into the surrounding liquid.

Carl, with his eyes closed and his hands held over the beaker, looked like a man completely fixated on the task at hand.

Orion could feel him doing… something, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what that was. Carl was somehow influencing what was happening to the eye, and it was both bizarre and enthralling.

He felt the strength of this man; it wasn’t the power of someone with physical presence, but the oppression of someone with an indomitable will. Whatever Carl was doing, he had complete control and dominion over it.

After what felt like hours but was only minutes, the eye changed and emitted a soft glow. At first, the change was so faint as to be imperceptible, and Orion thought he may have been imagining it.

As time went on, however, it glowed brighter-and-brighter, until the soft green light it was emitting shone on the table and equipment surrounding it.

Carl snapped his eyes open, looking down at the item in reverence.

“The preparation was a success.” He wiped sweat off his brow with a cloth. “Time to combine the ingredients.”

Carl began putting items into a massive cauldron that was set on top of what Orion assumed was the magic equivalent of a Bunsen burner.

By the time Orion had finished collecting all the items Carl needed, there were at least fifty different ingredients and compounds scattered over the workspace in front of the pair.

He recalled what Carl had said: that you never know what the concoction is going to demand.

How can a potion even demand an ingredient?

Orion shook his head and cast the doubt aside, instead opting to focus on absorbing everything he saw.

Carl had laid all the items out in the sequence they were to be added to the concoction, but halfway through, something changed.

Orion could feel an energy coming from the cauldron, for lack of a better word. An aura of dread radiated from it, resonating within him.

It was reminiscent of the feeling of wrongness he felt from the orbs in that vision of darkness where he’d earned his class—the sensation grated against him in the same way. It was getting so uncomfortable that Orion had the urge to say something to Carl, despite the warnings to stay quiet.

Before he voiced his concern, the Alchemist froze.

Carl paused for but a moment before grabbing what looked to be a shriveled-up root and tossing it into the mixture.

Orion stared in confusion at the cauldron; the root hadn’t been the next item scheduled to go in.

Carl also tossed in the eye of a small creature, the bat wings, and a few dried-out leaves before he returned to putting ingredients in sequentially.

The aura of dread dissipated as quick as it had come, and Orion returned to watching.

The whole time Carl was adding ingredients, he was intermittently mixing the concoction with a giant glass stirrer.

As he added more-and-more, he had to stir with increasing frequency.

Carl would occasionally pause his stirring and add a few items before continuing again. Each time he did, just before Carl paused, Orion felt the concoction wanted him to stop stirring.

So Carl can feel it, too? Is that how he decides what to do? He simply follows the whims of the cauldron and the mixture inside?

Carl had added nothing for a while, so Orion looked away from the entrancing concoction and up at the alchemist.

The man was standing with his eyes closed, stirring the brew with his right hand, his left hand hovering over the glowing eye in its beaker.

Carl continued on for a few minutes before lowering his hand into the liquid and removing Merv’s eye. He withdrew his stirrer and dropped the eye right into the middle of the cauldron.

For a moment, nothing happened, but then Orion was struck by a crashing wave of dread; he knew instantly that something had gone awry.

The dread emanating from the cauldron earlier increased tenfold, strong enough to make him feel physically ill. Were they going to fail this quest and ruin the potion in the process?

Almost before Orion could even register the feeling, Carl yelled at him, all emotion gone from the alchemist’s voice.

“Three more health potions, now!”

Orion’s immediate instinct was to run, but remembering Carl’s words from earlier, he walked as fast as he could while still being in control of his body and surroundings.

He gathered the three health potions and made his way back to the cauldron.

“Stir this at the same speed I’m doing now,” Carl instructed.

Orion did so, taking over the stirring and matching the pace Carl had set. The aura of dread was amplifying, getting worse as Carl removed the stoppers and began pouring the contents of the vials out in broad swirls above the surface of the mixture.

As quick as it had arrived, the aura eased off, and relief began flooding Orion. The potions must have stabilized the mixture.

Just as relief washed through him, it was shattered—the dread slammed back into place.

He felt it going wrong again.

Carl was feeling the same; the alchemist stared back at Orion with confusion and horror etched on his face, not knowing what to do.

The hint of an impulse started tugging at Orion’s mind. Without questioning it, he reversed the direction he stirred and started mixing the top of the mixture to the bottom and the bottom of the mixture to the top with sweeping strokes. He was no longer looking at Carl. Eyes closed and facing the cauldron, he followed the impulses, giving the concoction what it desired.

What to do next fled from his grasp, so he redoubled his efforts, but the more he tried to hold on, the slipperier it became. He scrunched his face in concentration, not even noticing the drop of sweat that collected and ran down his brow.

“Calm yourself, lad,” Carl said, his words breaking through. “Don’t force it. Focus on your breathing, calm your mind, and the directions will come.”

Orion relaxed his facial muscles, doing what Carl suggested and focusing his attention on his breathing. Air passing by the tip of his nose caught his attention, so he focused on it, honing in as much as he could.

Slowly, what to do next was fed to him, and he let his hands move with autonomy, gyrating back and forth in the perfectly chaotic way the concoction demanded.

The feeling of dread dissipated again as he slipped completely into the work. It was like being released from a tomb of stone; piece-by-piece, the oppressive weight was removed until it was no more.

The cauldron burbled away, almost seeming content.

Orion looked up at Carl, expecting to be chastised for his actions. Instead, he had a broad grin plastered on his face.

He'd expected a lot of things from the old man, but a grin of pure glee was not one of them.

Carl started smiling even broader, waggling his eyebrows in an infuriatingly Honeypot-like manner.

Realization hit Orion like a truck.

“You… you knew how to stir the cauldron to combine the ingredients properly, didn’t you?”

“That’s right.”

“… did you ruin it on purpose?”

“Yes.”

“Why?” Orion asked, exasperated.

“I’m old Orion, and this is my lab. I do what I want when it pleases me. Now move over, the hard part is coming.”

Still confused, and more than a little frustrated, Orion moved over as Carl snatched the glass stirrer from his hand before wiping it off and setting it aside.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Carl moved in front of the cauldron and held his arms out as he had before, palms facing the brew inside. As he stood there, Orion felt Carl exerting force again.

The liquid inside the cauldron moved of its own accord, churning in different directions as the alchemist willed it. The magical heating element increased and decreased in temperature over time, glowing an angry red at its hottest and a warm yellow at its coolest.

Orion sensed whispers of the cauldron and the mixture inside of it, but was unable to parse what it was asking for. No, not asking for… demanding. If it were Orion in Carl’s position, he knew he wouldn’t stand a chance.

Uncomprehending of Orion’s thoughts and devoted to his work, Carl continued to refine the mixture.

Orion lost track of time, enraptured by what was being done before him.

The liquid moved in a captivating way. Faint threads of what the potion wanted unraveled and revealed themselves to him. Not full comprehension, but somewhat of an understanding; a push to the left, a swirl to the right, lowering the heat to let it settle, then raising the temperature to bring the mixture to a boil.

The cauldron revealed what it needed bit-by-bit with faint suggestions.

As the night progressed, Carl looked more-and-more fatigued. There was a noticeable curve to his shoulders, and beads of sweat were collecting on his brow. Despite the obvious physical demand of his task, his face remained a mask of calm focus, his hands firm and controlled.

With no warning, a violent pulse shot from the cauldron and slammed into Orion.

Carl shot an unreadable look at Orion, clearly feeling it too, but quickly returned his attention to the concoction.

What was that?

He wanted more than anything to ask Carl, but was all too aware it might break his focus.

The cauldron got a faint glow to it, reminding Orion of soft moonlight on a clear night. What had started out as a dark-brown liquid was now becoming more-and-more transparent, emphasized further by the light emanating from within.

Clearer-and-clearer, brighter-and-brighter, Carl continued caring for the mixture and providing everything it asked for.

Orion could feel it changing, and knew it was nearing completion.

Orion’s feeling was confirmed a few minutes later when Carl let out a weary sigh and lowered his hands to his sides. The finished concoction sat in the cauldron, glowing with the light of a full moon.

Wiping his forehead, Carl stepped back and looked at his completed project. He had a smile of delight, and for a moment, Orion thought a tear threatened to well up in his eye.

The alchemist wiped his face again with his cloth and started collecting the equipment necessary to distill the potion, his deft hands connecting all the parts within seconds.

“Did it… work?” Orion asked, raising an eyebrow.

“We don’t know yet, lad. I did all I could—now we just have to wait and see.”

They both stood, watching the liquid make a slow path through the tubes and different chambers of the still. The trail the mixture took enchanted Orion, and he lost track of time, senses enveloped by the potion distilling in front of him.

The drops emerging from the still were glowing. This light, however, seemed almost… cleaner. Rather than looking directly at the moon, it was like looking at the reflected glint of moonlight in a calm lake, with the light beaming down from the celestial body above bright enough to make out each leaf of the surrounding trees.

Orion was broken from his reverie when he noticed the drops coming out of the still had slowed. Soon, they’d stopped completely.

The vial was sitting there, filled almost to the brim.

With a single deft movement, Carl pushed a stopper into the opening, and an explosion of light transformed the world.

The potion emitted a blinding-white brilliance, but it wasn’t bright enough to hide the yellow light appearing from Carl.

Wait, is… is there also light coming from me?

A surge of warmth and satisfaction radiated throughout Orion’s body. It felt like the first good stretch after being stuck in a seat for hours, but amplified by an order of magnitude.

As quick as it had arrived, the sources of light dissipated, and his body returned to normal, only a slight tingle lingering to mark the passing of the awe-filled sensation.

They stood for a moment longer, neither of them able to move or speak.

“What—what was that?” Orion asked after a stretch of silence.

“That was me completing your potion and becoming a Master Alchemist.” Carl’s wizened face beamed a smile.

“If that’s what it feels like to jump a tier in Alchemy, you have got to teach me.”

Carl’s smile grew even broader.

“Remember the pulse that hit you?” His eyes danced with mirth as he let out a booming laugh. “Now would be a good time to turn your notifications back on, lad.”

With a growing sense of anticipation, Orion did so.

A series of prompts met him that made his own smile stretch wide—somehow even wider than Carl’s.

You have learned the profession: Alchemy.

Current rank: Apprentice 0.

You have earned a new title! Congratulations!

For being the first Adventurer to learn Alchemy in this world, you have earned the title: ‘The Alchemical’.

Title: ‘The Alchemical’ has been automatically equipped.

You have successfully advanced from Apprentice 0 to Apprentice 2 in Alchemy. Congratulations!

Unique Quest Complete: Turn in a Blind Eye

You have successfully found an Alchemist skilled enough to process ‘Merv’s Good Eye’ into a potion.

Merv can rest easy knowing that you mutilated his corpse for good reason… because you wanted to drink it. Weirdo.

Reward: Potion of Dark Vision.

Dumbfounded, Orion opened his character sheet. He now had an active title, and one of two profession slots was occupied by the word ‘Alchemy’.

He focused on the title, and a screen popped up.

Active title: The Alchemical

Earned by being the first adventurer to learn Alchemy in this world.

Bonus: +5% Intelligence, +5% Stamina.

Bonus is doubled for active title.

He dismissed his character sheet and notifications, staring off into the distance in shock for a moment.

Holy shit. A percentage modifier?

A boost of ten percent to both his Intelligence and Stamina was no small amount—especially as he continued to grow and progress.

The effect doubling when equipped implies that I can collect more, right?

Orion’s eyes went distant as he imagined a world where he collected tens—no, hundreds of titles, all of which giving him percentage modifiers.

Ignoring Orion’s awe, Carl handed him the potion. Orion stood there, looking down at the successfully completed item and the beautiful glow it was emitting.

“Well?” Carl gestured at the potion.

Orion began to thank him, but Carl cut him off.

“Not that, fool boy. Aren’t you going to drink it?”

“Oh. Is there any point? I can already see well here, and I’m about to go to bed. How long does it last?”

In response, all Carl could do was stand and stare in obvious exasperation.

“You truly think we went through all that trouble, with an epic ingredient, for a temporary buff potion? Were you born yesterday, lad?”

“No, I—” Orion paused in thought. “Well, I mean, technically, yes. I was literally born into this world yesterday.”

“Huh, that’s actually a good point. Technically, it’s early morning, so you were born the day before yesterday, but close enough. Look, that’s neither here nor there. Just inspect the item, you idiot.”

And so Orion did.

Potion of Dark Vision

Epic

Consumable

Drinking this potion grants the user the ability: Dark Vision.

“You’re positive it’s not, like… evil?” Orion asked. “We made it out of a boss’ eye, and I’m pretty sure I recall you mixing in bat wings at one point…”

Carl leveled a glare at Orion that could set a cauldron to boiling.

“I can tell you’re messing with me, you little bastard. I worked hard on that potion, now give me the satisfaction of seeing it put to use!”

“Alright, alright,” Orion said with a laugh.

He removed the stopper and downed the potion. Expecting a sour or disgusting taste to hit his tongue, the flavor delivered a pleasant surprise. He thought he’d tasted it before, but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The cool, rejuvenating flavor brought back the image of the mountain lake surrounded by trees and flooded with moonlight.

As Orion swallowed the last mouthful, he received a notification.

New ability: Dark Vision

Tier 1 Level 1

Cooldown: Passive

User is able to see in all light levels.

Coveted by tacticians and creeps alike, how will you put this ability to use? Let’s be honest, probably both. Pervert.

Despite the System questioning his sexual proclivities, Orion was ecstatic with the ability. He noticed the difference in an instant. Where corners of the room had appeared dark to him, they were now well lit, every intricate detail visible to his enhanced eyes. He looked around the room in awe, contemplating how he could apply this vision to his team’s strategy in the future.

“Whoa, that’s pretty nifty,” Carl said, breaking Orion out of his thoughts.

“What is?” Orion asked, not liking the alchemist’s stare.

Carl walked over to another table, fetching something and bringing it over to Orion. It was a mirror, and what Orion saw within took his breath away.

His eyes glowed like two full moons, filled with the same light as the potion. He let out a curse as he realized that while he may see others in the dark, his glowing eyes meant they would also see him.

Maybe I can use that to my advantage, though…

“Alright, kid,” Carl said, “that’s enough for tonight. I appreciate the opportunity, and I’m glad you got your potion, but I’m too old for these all-nighters. I need some sleep.”

“Wait, what about Alchemy? Can I come back and learn more from you? I know next to nothing, I—”

“Yes, lad. Relax, alright?” He made a placating gesture, trying to reassure him. “I took on that responsibility when I helped you get the profession. As soon as that pulse came from the cauldron, I knew you’d gain Alchemy—even if the concoction ended up failing. It was hardly conventional, but I let you help with the potion, and you had enough latent ability for the System to assign it to you. Bit of a bait-and-switch on the System’s part, but it is what it is. Regardless, all that can wait for another day.”

“Tomorrow?”

Carl grunted in annoyance. “I can already tell I’m going to regret this. Sure, kid. Come back tomorrow.”

Orion stood on the street after Carl escorted him out of the shop. He heard the old alchemist lock a comical amount of bolts and latches on the other side of the door before stomping off and slamming the trapdoor.

The sun wasn’t rising yet, and the birds had yet to start their morning song; he should be able to get at least some sleep before the following day of adventure.

With a smile on his face despite the exhaustion, he all but skipped his way back to his friends.

***

Carl hadn’t been exaggerating when he told his new student he was tired. He was truly getting too old for these all-nighters.

Making his way back down the tunnel and into the laboratory, he trudged his way over to his bed. He let out a contented sigh as his body hit the soft mattress.

“I didn’t think I’d see the day where you took on another student,” Dave said from his own cot.

Carl let out a grunt in agreement.

“You saw it too, right?”

“My eyes may be as blind as yours, but I can still tell a fox when I find one in the hen-house.”

“I thought working with him would bear fruit, but this? To have that much latent potential…” Carl shook his head in bemusement. “Imagine how far we would have gone, given that same potential? He knew what to do without even having the profession. I wonder if there are more adventurers like him…”

“We may have been better left to fight the monsters without them,” Dave said. “These adventurers are a complete unknown, and that kid alone is terrifying.” He shook his head, attempting fruitlessly to dispel weariness. “Oh well, they’re here now. There’s nothing to be done. Maybe I’ll make the most of it and keep an eye out for an apprentice of my own.”

“You? Taking on another apprentice?” Carl snorted. “You have even higher standards than I do.”

“They just don’t make ‘em like they used to.” Dave sighed. “None of these young folk have the requisite nuts and bolts to be an engineer nowadays.”

Before another word could be uttered, two sets of snores echoed throughout the laboratory.