That Which Lies Within
In the aspiring alchemist’s attempts at experimentation, he’d gotten better in only the most basic of ways. This more or less amounted to not totally and categorically blowing up the newly renovated lab, nor causing too devastating a personal injury that a quick string of divine words couldn’t heal. One thing he had learned was how to tell when a solution needed to go through a warming or degassing process and, importantly, why. Another, what he was actually looking for when his books instructed him to ascertain whether said solution had reached an appropriate and specific shade of amber, and how to remember not to put his bare hands on the beakers to hold them up to the light lest he lose all feeling in his fingertips (again). And, the simple lesson of the day: if he needed the fluid component of a small ingredient, it was infinitely easier to crush it with the flat end of his blade than to slice it.
