Ashan 1, Arc 720
On the 1st of Ashan, Petyr Lovan, one of the most renowned alchemists in all of Scalvoris, was just standing behind the counter, pouring the contents of two vials into the cauldron that was in front of him when the door was being opened. A moment later, a man that he had hoped he would never have to see again walked in. Petyr’s gaze darkened, and he abruptly dropped the entire vial in his right hand into the cauldron which caused its content to sizzle in a most suspicious manner and sparks to fly everywhere.
“You!” he exclaimed and shuddered.
“Yes, me!” Devin replied, smiling brightly, and walked up to the counter with a swagger in his step. This trial, the Mortalborn was dressed in an exceedingly garish outfit of yellow and royal purple – because garish garments were in fashion at the moment. In his left hand was a piece of paper. “I found this leaflet on the ground, quite by chance. You are looking for test subjects for your flight potion?” he asked and raised an eyebrow. “I would like to volunteer. I promise that I’ll behave this time!”
Petyr looked at him as if he didn’t believe a single word of what the Mortalborn said. His first two meetings with the younger man had been a nightmare. Devin had harassed him, he had been rude, he had touched everything in his shop, and he had absolutely refused to follow instructions. He’d rather test his potions on himself than on that man!
“Unless you would like me to tell the authorities that you are a bit lax when it comes to talking to your volunteers about the possible side effects?” Devin asked in an exaggeratedly sweet tone. “Actually”, he continued. “I’m part of the authorities now. I’m the new academic councilor! I can prove it! So, where do you want me to be?” he asked before he just plopped down on a chair that stood next to the counter.
“Give me your potion!” he demanded. “And tell me, will I grow wings if I drink it?” he asked hopefully. Since he had first met the Avriel Kalortah the cycle before and seen his magnificent wings, he had been obsessed with wings and flying and wanted to get wings of his own.
He’d begun to look for a Becomer who was willing to initiate him – in vain so far. Maybe he didn’t have to look anymore though. Maybe he just needed to drink a potion!
On the 1st of Ashan, Petyr Lovan, one of the most renowned alchemists in all of Scalvoris, was just standing behind the counter, pouring the contents of two vials into the cauldron that was in front of him when the door was being opened. A moment later, a man that he had hoped he would never have to see again walked in. Petyr’s gaze darkened, and he abruptly dropped the entire vial in his right hand into the cauldron which caused its content to sizzle in a most suspicious manner and sparks to fly everywhere.
“You!” he exclaimed and shuddered.
“Yes, me!” Devin replied, smiling brightly, and walked up to the counter with a swagger in his step. This trial, the Mortalborn was dressed in an exceedingly garish outfit of yellow and royal purple – because garish garments were in fashion at the moment. In his left hand was a piece of paper. “I found this leaflet on the ground, quite by chance. You are looking for test subjects for your flight potion?” he asked and raised an eyebrow. “I would like to volunteer. I promise that I’ll behave this time!”
Petyr looked at him as if he didn’t believe a single word of what the Mortalborn said. His first two meetings with the younger man had been a nightmare. Devin had harassed him, he had been rude, he had touched everything in his shop, and he had absolutely refused to follow instructions. He’d rather test his potions on himself than on that man!
“Unless you would like me to tell the authorities that you are a bit lax when it comes to talking to your volunteers about the possible side effects?” Devin asked in an exaggeratedly sweet tone. “Actually”, he continued. “I’m part of the authorities now. I’m the new academic councilor! I can prove it! So, where do you want me to be?” he asked before he just plopped down on a chair that stood next to the counter.
“Give me your potion!” he demanded. “And tell me, will I grow wings if I drink it?” he asked hopefully. Since he had first met the Avriel Kalortah the cycle before and seen his magnificent wings, he had been obsessed with wings and flying and wanted to get wings of his own.
He’d begun to look for a Becomer who was willing to initiate him – in vain so far. Maybe he didn’t have to look anymore though. Maybe he just needed to drink a potion!
