With Raven gaining more strength with every passing moon, the two held longer and longer conversations. Raven confessed she was an amateur alchemyst. Finding fascination in the intricate workings of earthly metals and magic. She had expressed worry over the materials in her bag, when Loriathan assured her, it was safe and sound.
The inner workings of alchemy struck an interest in Loriathan. Although the work itself was 200-something years old, the elf had never heard of it before. He had already begun his centuries long research in the mountains prior and had missed the discovery.
His thirst for knowledge shone brightly, as he asked what felt like every question under the sun. Raven attempted to answer as best as she could, explaining most of her knowledge she had picked up from books. Dutifully recording her findings in a notebook, she always kept on her. Luckily, it had withstood the elements and had managed to come out relatively unscathed.
The two spent hours poring over the book’s contents. Going over each material and their role in the reactions. How to integrate the delicate use of magic into finished contraptions. “The greatest difficulty in making alchemic mechanisms is the sourcing of materials” she would explain.
Stroking his scruffy beard Amaranth would mutter under his breath absentmindedly every thought crossing his mind. Raven knew by now he wouldn’t stop, so she continued “The reason I was even up here in the first place was to gather Fluxroot for a customer’s potion”.
Loriathan would nod as she talked. His quiet musings filled the room, weaving a soft undercurrent to her explanations. Sometimes he would slip into a different tongue. Elvish, he had explained. The sibilance of the language was calming to Raven’s ears.
Once Loriathan realised she had an interest in the language, he had offered to teach her. “After all, you will need more time to gain full strength in order to make the journey back.” Raven desperately rejected the notion, face flushed in embarrassment “You’ve already done so much for me, I couldn’t possibly...” “Then you shall teach me of this Alchemy you speak of” He insisted. She had relented then, unable to say no to his earnest wish.
With a goal set, Raven approached her recovery with a new vigour. Attempting to test the waters of her strength as much as possible without overdoing it. As she practiced walking around the room they would discuss in length the theories of alchemy. With Loriathan occasionally slipping into Elvish, teaching her new vocabulary as he used them.
The two fell into a comfortable rhythm. Roles swapping between teacher and listener as quickly as the wind ebbed and flowed outside the window. Amaranth nestled cozily at the edge of Raven’s bed. Unwilling to let Loriathan out of her sight, the cat trotted dutifully behind him whenever he left the room to conjure up the next meal.
Occasionally meowing him to remind her of her own. When he’d forget, Amaranth would lead him to her bowl, before politely meowing as a reminder. Loriathan would release a string of sincere apologies, bowing low to the cat and peppering her with kisses across her fur.
Once Raven was able to walk comfortably on her own, she began wandering further outside her room. First, the hallway. Then, the living room and back. Until, with much effort, and praise by Loriathan and Amaranth, she was able to walk on her own.
With Loriathan’s permission, Raven explored the house as he cooked their meals. First, she tackled the stores of books. For a house for one, there seemed to be books in every place she looked. Old, aged covers with leather bindings and covers written in ancient languages were as commonplace as the candles that adorned the house’s walls.
Raven engrossed herself in the old texts. Enraptured by the drawings, and diagrams she let herself be immersed in the many worlds forgotten by most else. As she scoured her many options, a peculiar book laying open on a slightly cluttered desk brought her attention. Its cover glinted oddly in the candlelight, pages rifling as the wind from an open window filled the room.
"What’s this one about?” she had asked, moving a chair up to inspect the book closer.
Loriathan glanced up from his careful food preparation, eyes sparkling in recognition, “Ah, that one... The Treatise of Verdant Aeons.” Raven gave him her full attention, considering his words carefully. “It’s a relic of a time long forgotten, written by a half-mad botanist who claimed plants held the secrets to immortality.”
Raven flipped through the pages carefully, marvelling at the illustrations of plants. “Some of these looks similar to herbs I’ve seen—wait, is that…?” She squinted, “Fluxroot?”
“Not quite, lady Raven” Loriathan responded, his voice laced with intrigue. “That would be Everbloom’s Respite, said to thrive only in moonlight atop the peaks of the world. Supposedly, it shares some traits with your Fluxroot. But” he chuckled softly, “no one alive has seen it in centuries. It’s likely a fable.”
The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Raven leaned back, studying him. “You have a lot of books like this, don’t you? Why keep them all?”
Loriathan stroked his beard thoughtfully. “You could say I’m a collector of forgotten knowledge. Every book holds a fragment of a story, a piece of a puzzle the world has yet to solve. Why discard what still has lessons to teach?”
Raven smirked. “So, you’re a hoarder.”
He laughed heartily, the rhythmic sounds filling the space. “Call it what you will, child. But I’ve lived long enough to know the value of holding onto things others dismiss as useless. Even the most trivial texts may one day prove vital—perhaps even to you, my budding alchemist.”
The two joked through the night, exploring Loriathan’s favourite rare books he acquired over the years, some he had traded for spells or favours, others rescued from crumbling libraries otherwise left to sit in dust for eternity.
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Only once Raven was physically capable enough to assist Loriathan with the meals, did he finally allow her to teach him his first alchemic production. Loriathan went into the depths of his magical storage and retrieved their necessary materials. Raven assured him, she would mostly be resting. Instead, she would carefully watch over him, nudging him through the steps together.
She found Loriathan to be an unsteady learner. His cautious demeanour caused him to need reassurance of his decisions. She had told him as such, and he had only laughed heartily at the feedback. “The markings of a true beginner!”. He responded, his unbridled joy plainly present on his face.
Their chuckles morphed into laughter when they attempted to calm themselves-only to look at each other’s faces again and burst out laughing once more. Startling Amaranth, who retreated into the far corner of the room, away from their hubbub.
Their preparations ready, they began to create their first concoction. Raven had been truly grateful for the rest, but truthfully her hands were itching for alchemy. Together they would attempt a simple concoction. A basic healing potion, as Loriathan had all the materials at hand.
Raven sat beside Loriathan having finished crushing the moonstone and imbuing it with magic to act as the binding agent. The more difficult aspect, as the intertwining of magic and earth proved much harder for beginners to attempt.
Raven placed the alchemy book between them, her fingers tapping lightly on the pages. Loriathan’s eyes wandered over the text, though she noticed his gaze flitted between the words almost as though they were foreign to him. He reached for the vial of powdered moonstone essence, his fingers trembling slightly, and she couldn’t help but catch the subtle uncertainty in his movements.
“Remember, it’s about precision,” she reminded him softly, watching as he hesitated. “The ratio matters.”
Loriathan gave a small nod, but she could see how slow his movements were, how each decision seemed to carry extra weight. His hand hovered above the vial of liquid, then hesitated, his brow furrowing in concentration.
Raven tried not to make him feel self-conscious, but it was hard to ignore. She reached over gently, nudging the vial closer to him. “Here. Let me help with that part.”
He looked at her his gaze unfocused for a moment before he seemed to snap out of it. “Right. Thanks,” he muttered, but there was a faint edge of embarrassment in his voice.
She smiled at him, trying to ease the tension. “It’s alright. Just take your time. No rush.”
Loriathan exhaled slowly, trying to steady his breath as his hand finally took the vial, pouring its contents with careful precision into the mixing bowl. He glanced at Raven for approval, his eyes seeking confirmation before he added the next ingredient.
“Perfect,” she said encouragingly, offering him a reassuring nod. “Now, just stir it gently. You don’t want to agitate it too much.”
As he began to stir through the viscous mixture his hand wavered, and she could see how his focus was starting to slip again. She waited, letting him continue, but her own hands itched to help steady his movements. His grip faltered and he had to quickly steady the vial from tipping over.
Raven’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a quiet concern. “Loriathan, maybe it’s time to take a break?” she suggested gently, though she didn’t want to push him too hard.
“I’m fine,” he replied quickly, though the slight edge to his voice betrayed the lie. His breath was still uneven, and his eyes darted around the table as if looking for something to latch onto. “I can do this.”
Raven hesitated, her eyes studying him. She could see the exhaustion creeping into his features, the subtle way his shoulders hunched as if holding up some unseen weight. His hands weren’t just trembling now—they were shaking, and his grip was slipping. He took another shaky breath, clearly straining.
“Really, it’s okay to rest,” Raven said, her tone soft but firm. She placed a hand on the table, close enough that he could see it, a reminder that she was here, watching over him. “We don’t have to rush this.”
Loriathan paused, staring down at his hands for a long moment, as though he were trying to make them obey his will. He finally let out a breath, low and heavy, and nodded. “Maybe... just a minute.” He slid back in his seat, shoulders slumping slightly, his head dipping as though the effort had drained something more than just his energy.
Raven gave him a sympathetic look, watching as he closed his eyes for a moment, trying to collect himself. “You’ve been pushing yourself,” she said quietly, her voice gentle. “You don’t have to prove anything.”
He chuckled, though it sounded tired, and opened his eyes to glance at her. “I’m not proving anything. Just... trying to keep up.”
She smiled softly. “You’ve been looking after me for two weeks now, cooking and cleaning for two has been a lot.”
He looked at her as if to firmly reject the notion, but she stilled him, “Please, allow me to help you around here. We could treat it as more rehabilitation to ensure I can make the trip back.”
He sat in thought for some time, muttering under his breath as he thought through the proposal. Until he eventually stilled, and said with pause, “I would be much obliged, child”
Raven smiled, before turning their attention back towards their allotment of alchemy mixtures. “Now, shall we continue where we left off?”
Soon, their laughter from earlier echoed faintly between them, though it was quieter now, as though the weight of the day had caught up with both of them. Loriathan’s smile, though tired, remained warm. Raven let the silence settle knowing that sometimes, that was enough.