Belenus
Suibne parted ways at the arch and Belenus felt a guilty pang of relief. If Suibne had accompanied him back home he wouldn’t have had the resolve to turn him away. As it was, the evening out was long enough intermission. He walked quickly through the district of houses, through trellises whose sweet aromatics followed him past painted stone statues and purple blooming tree boughs. He took a series of branching paths until he reached his home marked by a wall of ivy.
He passed through the door, unlocking and relocking it with a simple spell cast by a few signing hand motions. He walked toward the back of the house pausing along the way to unpin and hang his cloak in the wardrobe before entering the arcane lab. Once there, he called forth a golden orb, concentrating on splitting it into smaller balls of white light and commanding them to hold position in metal sconces throughout the room. While he could see without the light spell, color washed out in the dim light without it and reading small words was difficult, it was better to light the room now before having to interrupt intensive processes once working.
Approximately half of the house was arranged and set up as a lab. There was a main open room sectioned by alchemical processes, arranged to maintain an efficient system. Easily available from any station was a long wall of shelves and cupboards dedicated to supplies with notes pinned to the wooden shelves detailing specific items and brews in progress, how long they were resting versus how long they needed to sit. An antechamber connected out of the way with shelves fully stocked of books and research materials in a wide array of languages and publications.
The supplies collected from Fiachra had been stowed away in a trunk bespelled to stall aging. The entire box had been set in the trunk and abandoned since he came back. He had been too overwhelmed even looking at Fiachra’s box to do anything with it immediately. He took the box out now, intent to organize each vial and jar to the station that would suit it best. A few of the herbs had withered beyond use during travel, the dark shriveled leaves looked as disheartened as he felt. There was no viable way to get them here in time, even if the plan wasn’t snared off course, the travel distance was too great and he had no opportunity to obtain a travel-sized bespelled trunk. He turned the herbs over in his hands, thinking. While he didn’t have the power to preserve the herbs to his lab, he could safely pack critical supplies to distill that Fiachra didn’t already have. Concentrated extracts would last long enough. Content with the idea, he set unusable items on one of the supply shelves to see what could be salvaged at a later time.
He set Fiachra’s empty box on a table next to the trunk and abandoned the saddlebag. There was an odd space cleared on the table with a letter waiting patiently for his attention. It was pristinely folded and sealed in blue wax with an insignia, a crescent moon with a circle and a center dot at the moon’s back, and underneath it, two half circles joined back-to-back. The symbol combination of Platinum and Tin was Elisedd’s exclusive signature to Belenus, representing the major elements of gold and silver, sun and moon, and the planet Jupiter for their relationship as father and son. It was a heavy meaning contained in one small blot of wax.
He took a deep breath anticipating the letter’s contents and found a chair to sit in to read it. Elisedd’s writing was flourished and expertly pristine. It read the same as Elisedd spoke and Belenus could mentally hear his father’s deep stolid voice. The essentials told him that Elisedd had paid a visit while he was out and would be back next week with something important to discuss, as to what that was it was vague and inconclusive. He set the letter down next to a calendar and penned a reminder note thinking over what would entail with the visit. Elisedd would do this on occasion when something important would come up and require Belenus’s undivided attention, he was given fair warning to be able to pull away from whatever held his interest. The vagueness was irritating, it could very well be something that could be put aside until after the second trip but he was deprived of making that decision. However, he couldn’t begrudge Elisedd for knowing him well enough to withhold details on the possibility he would disregard it for his current work, deeming it less important. This happened to be the case, but he had no other choice than to accommodate Elisedd.
He scowled at the letter before turning away to start distilling the plants that were waiting for him to begin. He measured identical amounts of solution in a select few flasks and submerged each plant into their own glass container, summoning a small flame under each one. The non-plant matter he took from Fiachra couldn’t be distilled and required calcination or dissolving. The beginning processes for each were similar but had their variances which he adhered to. Once everything laid out had been taken care of he stepped back and observed the progress as a whole, watching vigilantly and tinkering with adjustments as needed on any of the flasks to keep refinements running smoothly. The first step was the most standardized of processes and as such most tempting to operate automatically. It was a continuous check to maintain mental discipline to ensure no careless missteps.
As each flask’s contents reached its temperature peak, he extinguished the flames with a wave of his hand. He let them sit to cool naturally so as to not tamper them with magic at this stage. In the interim, he had a moment of downtime to switch tracks and chart the next steps. The first process was the same regardless, as it was a preparatory step to reduce each property into its purest and most concentrated form. Past that point options were inhibited only by the mind, the second process depended on the intended final result to dictate what the most effective step would be.
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He went to the antechamber picking through a more recent stack of tomes and withdrew two books. One was a nameless compendium of his notes on ancient works from Elisedd’s library, excerpts translated and expanded upon from multiple codexes to his own script. The other book was a gift from the university, an encyclopedia on plants introducing their medical and magical uses with an emphasis on practical applications for an average person. They were the main texts to spark his current line of interest, in combing two different worlds of study into something beyond themselves.
His original intent was to see what would result from the two fields of study, not knowing if the outcome would be useful or powerful, but not needing it to be anything more than an answer to his query of what would happen. However, this experiment was beyond the scope of his wants, belonging in part now to Fiachra who would be receiving the final result and who possessed an infuriating drive for everything to be functional. Anything less than powerful and useful would be a failure.
Belenus massaged his temples in thought and sank into a chair, letting the books fall into his lap. Instinctively he reached for his brooch, seeking out its energy and finding only bare space where it usually lay pinned. It was like a sharp stab to his heart, slowly draining his capacity to feel emotions. He missed the sharpened focus it granted him and the second wind of energy. Occasionally he would receive intuitional guidance from it endowed from previous wearers and he missed that feeling too. Only years of discipline would carry him through this and while that was doable, it was difficult, especially at this moment with his mind cluttered. If it became really necessary Elisedd was always willing to share expertise when consulted, his acute observation often led to further insight.
Thinking of Elisedd again, Belenus’s thoughts narrowed and stilled, freezing over with a realization. He touched the blank spot on his clothes again. If there was one elf who would notice the heirloom missing it would be Elisedd, who wore it with care before entrusting it to Belenus. The very elf visiting soon with no exceptions. He internally contorted into a coil of panic, tightening and cutting his core of existence at the thought of Elisedd noticing its loss and being forced to explain its whereabouts.
He set the books aside on the nearest shelf before jumping out of his chair and sprinting to his wardrobe throwing the doors open. Unlike his last venture out he couldn’t use jewelry to dazzle and disguise its absence, Elisedd knew well that he always kept it on. He rifled through clothing options toying with different overlayers, but everything was too basic of a disguise and he never wore cloaks indoors. Wardrobe exhausted and mind whirling with further possibilities, he followed a line of thought over to a lacquered box that housed his selection of brooches and selected a similar penannular design to his heirloom. He took it back into his lab picking up a small square of fleece off his supply shelves.
An illusion spell was a simple cantrip and it was one he called forth easily in the process of pinning the brooch and fleece onto his clothes. The illusion layered over the existing brooch as a phantom image, that would look perfectly real to anyone who had no reason to suspect otherwise. Elisedd was one such elf who would have no reason to suspect its falsity and Belenus’s confidence bolstered the illusion.
The temporary resolution calmed him back to functionality. He went back to the alcove, refocusing his thoughts on what needed to be done next. To avert full failure, he decided to create a few potions that would certainly be useful to Fiachra in addition to his experiments. He debated what exactly those potions would be while capping the now-cooked flasks and placing them into the bespelled trunk.
He poured through the books for the rest of the night and the following day, planning every step until final decisions were made. Eventually, he decided what to do with the new distillation, Purified Spirit. He also decided to make Auril’s Kiss, an ice potion that would assure he would be providing something useful and interesting.
With the plans laid out, Belenus felt a portion of the weight lift from his chest. Excitement took the place of worry and it felt like the bright flourish of summer flowers blooming. His mind buzzed with all of the research and intentions, it eclipsed everything and all he wanted to do was hone in on the next steps. There was nothing to stop him and he worked diligently, breaking only when absolutely necessary to maintain functionality. He noticed days passing only because the windows influenced lab conditions. On occasion and belatedly he noticed meals or nights of sleep had been skipped.
He started on the poisons and healing potions, going as far as possible on them before it became necessary to coagulate Purified Spirit with them. Purified Spirit was the key component of the experiments. At its crux, it was the concentration of Elven magic in physical form, distillation that was best extracted from blood. Different species were likely to have different elemental nuances and while it was fascinating, even the thought of the act of taking from anyone beyond himself was a churning dark haze he wanted no part of.
Internally regearing, he opened a long shallow box on one of his work tables drawing out a sterilized syringe and a few replacement vials. He dreaded this next part but was resolved to get through it in order to continue. He rolled up his right sleeve and tied a tourniquet by pulling at one end of a strip of cloth with his teeth. With a deep breath, he leaned against the table resting his arm on it and lining up the needle along the crook of his forearm, willing his nerves to remain steady. A flutter of movement in peripheral view caught his attention but he brushed it aside as distracting chatter. With another deep breath, he pulled all focus inward, calling up to the wellspring of magic within. He could feel it so strongly, it played on his sight, rivers running just beneath his skin. The sharp tip of the needle hovered above one of those shining streams. The first time is the hardest; I can do this.
~Crack~
The unmistakable sound of glass breaking fissured his focus and caused him to flinch in the same horrific moment as puncturing his skin with the needle. It felt like electric fire coursing through his arm and he knew immediately that something went wrong. With a distressed cry, he pulled the syringe away and tossed it aside on the table cradling his arm tightly against his stomach, potential bloodstains be damned. He gripped his arm protectively tight, clenching his jaw and waiting for the residual throbbing to subside. As the shock wore off, he finally looked up to see the cause of the glass breaking.
