PftA Book 5 - Chapter 19 - A Spark of Interest

“Oh! Did you hear that Celestia officially joined the Alliance?” Zavira asked with a hint of excitement.

“No. I’ve been a little disconnected from the news lately,” I replied.

Celestia was effectively the head of the Collective since it was the only inhabited Tier Nine world in the Collective. There were two additional Tier Nine worlds, one of which housed the Arcane well I’d found, but the Collective had never expanded to either of them for some unknown reason.

“Well, now that they’ve taken the first step, it’s expected that the rest of the Collective worlds will quickly follow suit. The Council’s hope for a full-realm unification is looking like it might actually hammer out.”

“That’s good,” I said noncommittally, though I really did think that unifying the realm into one relatively cohesive whole was a generally positive thing as long as it didn’t erase the individual cultures of the assimilating worlds. Considering what I’d seen of the other demi worlds, I didn’t think there was much risk of that.

“It is! Great-Grandfather is planning to visit Celestia in a couple of weeks to see if there are any new Smithing techniques to be found. I think he’s getting bored, and knowing that his oldest friend will soon be ascending has put him into a strange mood.”

“Do you think he’ll start pushing toward ascension soon?” I asked curiously.

“Probably not,” Zavira replied with a light frown. “He’s made it clear that he has no desire to start over somewhere new. He’d rather stay here and guide his descendants.”

A part of me understood her ancestor’s mindset. If I had a long line of descendants and I was invested in their success, I’d probably want to stick around as long as possible, too.

It was something to consider when I eventually reached the next realm.

= = =

“Who here does not have the Create Pill spell?” the instructor asked at the start of the class.

My first impulse was to remain still, but after seeing a few hands raise, mine joined theirs.

It wasn’t a surprise that many of the students didn’t have the spell. I’d signed up for a pretty basic pill-making class, after all. I just hoped they didn’t expect us to purchase the spell through the system. That would be ridiculously expensive, especially for me.

Nodding his head as if the response was expected, he manifested a large example of the spellform at the front of the class. It was a simple thing, easy enough for even low-tier Alchemists to learn without an upgraded interface.

The fact that not everyone had an upgraded interface still annoyed me. If it were up to me, I would make the upgraded interface the standard.

Pushing the errant thought away, I focused on the spellform. General spells were obvious by their use of neutral mana. Everyone had access to neutral mana since that was how mana was naturally stored in the mana pool.

Using it to directly fuel a spell allowed one to harness some of the abilities of other affinities, much like an Arcane spell might, though the mana cost was much higher.

Though it had been ages since I bothered with spellforms, I easily recognized how the one before me could be modified to work with Arcane mana. With a few additional tweaks, it could even be modified to work with Space mana or a combination of the two.

Since I happened to have both Arcane and Space magic, I made the alteration before ‘learning’ the spellform. Using the combination spell would likely produce better results while also being significantly cheaper.

When we were directed to demonstrate the spell, I watched a few of my fellow classmates consolidate their pills first. I didn’t want my spell to stand out too much, so I carefully moderated my output to roughly match the quality of the other new pill-makers.

The spell didn’t just work with powders. It also allowed certain fluids to be compressed into pill form by removing most of the moisture and creating a thin shell around the outside.

It was neat, but I didn’t see the point in dedicating an entire class to something that could obviously be taught in a single session.

My skepticism was soon addressed by the instructor when he withdrew a full Alchemy set from his storage ring.

“You might be wondering what else this class could possibly teach you when it seems like you’ve already learned everything you need to know about forming pills,” the instructor said with a knowing smirk. “And while it’s true, you have learned everything you need to know about forming pills, there is so much more for you to learn about the art of pill-making.

“To start, there is an entire compendium of Alchemy recipes that only work properly when crafted into pill form. Leaving them as powders or thick potions may still provide some effects, but the results will only be a fraction of what they could be if compressed into pill form.

“You’re probably wondering why this is when the only physical difference is one of pressure and moisture,” he said amicably. “The answer lies in how the ingredients change based on how they’re treated. Just like how the effects of ingredients might change based on preparation or the addition of heat, adding pressure and modifying the moisture content can have an equally profound effect on the materials used.”

Though I hadn’t given it much thought, the instructor’s explanation made a lot of sense. Chopping certain herbs released certain properties that couldn’t be activated by grinding, drying, boiling, or cooking. Similarly, using any of the other approaches could result in entirely different sets of properties manifesting.

A dried herb ground into a fine powder often had drastically different uses than the same herb ground fresh into a paste. It made sense that the same would apply to making pills. And forming a pill out of a fresh paste would probably create something entirely different.

The fact that herbs and other materials performed differently based on their condition and preparation was not something new to me. But for some reason, the knowledge sparked an interest that I hadn’t felt since my early days as an Enchanter.

That wasn’t to say I planned to shift from Enchanting to Alchemy. I was still an Enchanter, first and foremost. But I couldn’t deny that I felt excited about learning more about pill-making.

I watched with renewed interest as the instructor demonstrated how a simple recipe could have significantly different effects merely by converting the completed potion – a thick, syrupy product – into pill form.

The potion could increase one’s Perception by five percent for thirty minutes, while the same recipe, formed into pills, granted Night Vision for four hours.

I almost blew my cover by teleporting away when the class was over, but thankfully, I caught myself in time.

“Hey! You’re new here, right?” one of the students who’d been sitting nearby asked when I stood up.

I nodded. “How’d you know?”

“I’ve been a member of the sect pretty much my whole life,” the man said as he extended a hand. “I’m Garland. My dad is an elder, and my mom is an Inner Disciple, like us. It’s not like it sounds, though. They were together when they were both Inner Disciples. He just got promoted during the war.”

That was more information than I needed, but I smiled anyway. I could tell the guy was just trying to be friendly. As a Tier Three Alchemist, he’d probably been sent to Earth or Jorimar. It was the only other Tier Three planet in the Alliance.

“That’s good for him,” I responded as I headed for the door. “I’m Emie, by the way.”

I could have used a different name, but Emie had become strangely popular as a name for kids after news of my trinity status was revealed. My persona was technically too old to have been part of that fad, but there were enough people named Emie now that my addition didn’t stand out.

“Cool! Like our famous Trinity Mage! That’s pretty awesome,” Garland said as he followed me. “I got sent to Jorimar for the war, but my city didn’t get attacked at all. I was almost disappointed, though I guess it was a good thing. Where did you get assigned?”

“Hadier,” I answered.

I already had a basic set of answers in case anyone asked, and the Branch Leader on Hadier was one of the few people who were aware of my little undercover trip, so he knew to support my story if anyone asked.

“Oh yeah. You would have been sent there as a Tier Six,” Garland commented.

I paused when I got outside, reorienting myself since I wasn’t completely familiar with the sect compound.

“So, I’m going to grab some food. You’re welcome to join me if you want,” the Tier Three Alchemist added when he saw my hesitation.

My first impulse was to decline, but I stopped myself. My whole purpose in posing as a normal disciple was to experience what it was like to be a disciple. I couldn’t do that if I constantly kept myself hidden away.

“Sure. I could use some food,” I said amicably.

I followed along as Garland led the way to the main cafeteria for Inner Disciples. He chattered basically the whole time, mostly about inane things of little consequence, but it didn’t bother me as much as I expected it to.

I was pretty sure he was one of those people who talked because he thought silence was more awkward than constant chatter. Or maybe he just talked when he got nervous. I’d met people like that before.

“Let me introduce you to some of our fellow Alchemists,” Garland said excitedly when he retrieved his plate of food from the machine. “A bunch of us meet for lunch every day around this time. For some of them, it’s the only time they leave their labs. Don’t take it personally if they’re short with you. That’s just the way they are unless you get them talking about Alchemy-related subjects.”

He headed toward one of the larger tables in the dining area, where a half-dozen Inner Disciples sat. The highest tier person present was Tier Seven, and the lowest was Tier Five. Garland was the outlier at Tier Three, but nobody seemed to care.

“Hey, everyone! We got another new Alchemist! This is Emie. She’s from Hadier.”

“Nice to meet you,” a Tier Five half-elf said with a friendly smile. “I have a friend who was sent to the Hadier Branch for the war. His name is Lo. He’s not an Alchemist, so I’m not sure if you know him.”

“I don’t remember meeting anyone named Lo during the war. I was pretty isolated most of the time with the amount of work I had assigned to me, though.”

“Yeah. We were all pretty busy making potions and pills. Not as bad as some of the academies from what I heard, but still…” The half-elf shook her head with a rueful smile. “At least they didn’t have to relocate. Olym is nice and all, but it’s not home.”

A few of the others chimed in, mostly discussing their accommodations wherever they’d been assigned. I ate as the conversation shifted to the native herbs they’d encountered and how they differed from what could be found on Celtor.

They made a few attempts to pull me into the conversation, but weren’t too pushy, which I appreciated. They were probably used to dealing with those with more anti-social tendencies if the pair at the end of the table was any indication.

As soon as they finished eating, the two Alchemists got up and left without a word. Their departure brought a few shaken heads and sighs, but nobody commented on it.

When I finished with my plate, I excused myself and told Garland I’d see him at the next class. It wasn’t for another week, but I doubted we’d cross paths before then unless he happened to be taking the same general classes I’d enrolled in. Since they were not directly related to Alchemy, I doubted I’d see him in any of them.