3.11 Alchemy 101

“Base preparation,” Sabina said. “Let’s start with liquid type. You truly remember nothing?”

Zoey paused. Her ‘amnesia’, Sabina meant. The easy answer would be ‘yes’, but Zoey felt a more honest disclosure was in order. “I remember some things. But there’s huge black spots. You can assume I’m a blank slate.”

Sabina pursed her lips. “That may be difficult. I’m sure I’ll assume some sort of prerequisite knowledge … but I’ll try not to. Inform me if I take something for granted.”

“Sure.”

Sabina turned back to her cauldron. She’d withdrawn a giant metal spoon—the utensil looked a bit amusing, to be honest—and was stirring the thick red sludge with it. Zoey wanted to ask what potion she was working on, but she needed to stay focused. She’d always had a problem with being distractible.

“Liquid types, then,” Sabina said. “The standard is, of course, mana-imbued distilled water. Moderately reactive, pure and consistent, but most of all, cheap and simple to obtain in bulk.”

Zoey scribbled down notes, listening attentively.

“And palatable,” Sabina added, “though that’s far from highest consideration. But blood potions do tend to put some customers off, as well as other bases. It’s not an irrelevant consideration, in our field.”

“Blood?”

“Highly reactive,” Sabina explained, misinterpreting Zoey’s question. “Typically useful for experimentation … except for financial restraints. Ethically sourced sapient blood is difficult to acquire. Livestock … easier, but far less effective. Might as well use various liquors, at that point.”

Zoey was starting to understand. “Every liquid has different properties, and is useful in different situations?”

“Mm. Not exactly. Some are strictly superior to others. Plain distilled water is strictly worse than mana-imbued. Some materials aren’t strictly superior … but in nearly no situations would you use the inferior type. For example, honey and fruit juice.”

“Fruit juice?” Zoey’s eyebrows went up. That didn’t sound like a particularly … potion-y liquid. “I guess it’d taste good, at least.”

“Sweet-tasting potions are particularly popular with low-rank adventurers,” Sabina said, nodding. “They haven’t found the stomach for upper-level potions yet.” Sabina paused, then tacked on as an explanation, “The most effective bases aren’t the ones that sit well, as a general rule.”

“Yours didn’t taste too bad.” Er, was ‘not too bad’ an insult? They certainly hadn’t been tasty, though. “What were they, anyway? The infertility potions.”

Sabina’s lips curled. “You wouldn’t like the first iterations. Blood and liquors are reactive … and don’t cook well. They’re used for finding an effective recipe, then when discovered, stabilization using more … normal … bases are sought out. The general invention process. I gave you the first palatable batch. Water, with some post-brew taste additives.”

“Ah.” That made sense. Zoey was kind of curious what the ‘first batch’ tasted like. By the way Sabina was making it sound … seriously hard to stomach. Though, cooked blood … yeah. Reasonable.

“You’re side-tracking us,” Sabina said. “Let me start over. The most common bases. Mana-imbued distilled water for bulk, common potions—health, mana, stamina, so on. The bread and butter of alchemy; perhaps fifty percent of any given alchemist’s sales. Beyond that, other bases are used for experimentation and specialized potions. Blood and liquors for their reactivity, and easy mutation … but worse final quality, detriments to efficacy and duration. High level, unique effects often require blood or liquor, though not always—and depending on the advancement and skill of the brewer. Honey is the standard for potency, but with significant downsides in longevity. Useful for short-term, powerful effects. The opposite end of the spectrum, various milks. Long duration, moderate decrease in potency.”

The inappropriate question that flashed into Zoey’s head was entirely her fault … she coughed, and pointedly didn’t voice it.

Sabina glanced her way. “What? Ask.”

Zoey wished she hadn’t caught the reaction. “Um. Nothing. Just had … a thought.”

“Ask.”

Zoey really shouldn’t. But she found herself inordinately curious. “It’s inappropriate.”

“Ask.” There was a hint of exasperation, now.

Okay. Zoey guessed plenty of other things had been inappropriate, considering their arrangement. “What about semen?”

Sabina’s stirring stilled.

Zoey coughed. “As a base. What’s it do? Just, you know, out of curiosity.”

Sabina turned slowly, and gave Zoey an amused look. It had Zoey flushing, because Sabina wasn’t an easy woman to amuse.

“Well,” Sabina said. “I appreciate the curiosity. So as I said, ask. I’m hardly offended. And fringe cases are the most interesting … I understand the intrigue.” She turned back to her cauldron. “Semen. It’s been done before. I read a paper during my years at the Institute. I’m not sure I could remember the results. The obvious difficulty is, of course, difficulty of procurement. The paper emphasized that. Average ejaculate for most sapient races is quite small. Collecting enough even for a single brew is … impractical.”

Zoey paused. She’d been candid enough to ask the question of Sabina, but her follow up thought … that Zoey’s ‘average output’ would make that particular hurdle much easier … she didn’t voice. Sabina was easygoing when it came to inappropriate topics, but Zoey explaining how she produced about a hundred times what was normal was … probably too much information.

“But you don’t remember?”

“I don’t. Which means it was nothing inspiring. Likely an inferior result of some other standard base, as is the case for most odd liquids. Spit, and,” Sabina paused, “other bodily functions, to avoid being obscene, don’t make good bases, either. Only milk and blood.”

“Huh.”

“You side tracked us again. We have a lot to go over.”

Sabina didn’t sound annoyed, just like she was corralling Zoey back. Zoey flushed anyway … she’d told herself she’d be a good student. “Sorry. Keep going.” She hesitated. “Though, I have a practical question. What about mixing? Say, diluting blood with water? Or whatever else.”

Sabina was already shaking her head. “Purity. Purity is king. Mixtures rarely benefit any aspect of alchemy. Certain ingredients blend well … but those are exceptions.”

“I see.” Zoey went quiet, letting Sabina continue her lecture. She jotted down the revelations into her notebook.

“We’re sticking to bases for too long. It’s only the first stage. Truthfully, this is information found in any reference book. I would suggest you pick one up. Even experienced alchemists can’t remember every reagent, every base, and their interactions.”

“Which do you use?”

Sabina paused. “Hm. At the Institute, the assigned reference was ‘The Alchemical Laboratory: Tools, Techniques, and Experimentation’. Third edition. Authored by …” Sabina thought for a second. “Magistra Eliza Gold, if I recall. It’s been some years. Perhaps you could find a copy floating around. But any reference would do.”

So, most experienced alchemists needed to use a reference … but Sabina’s answer had made it clear she didn’t. She must have an offensively good memory, if her easy recollection of a textbook from years ago hadn’t shown that. Definitely not something Zoey was blessed to have. Though, she didn’t think she’d ever be as good as Sabina. Obviously not. This woman had been training for the subject for a long time. She’d attended some ‘institute’ … likely a university equivalent.

“I tend to use my own notes,” Sabina added. “I’ve found … certain inconsistencies in generally well-regarded texts. Reinventing the wheel is a poor idea … but I would rather discover first-hand the axioms we operate by.”

“I’ll find something today, then. After I leave.”

Sabina nodded. “Detailing every potion base to you would be a waste of time. Learn them on your own. Know that in day-to-day, water, honey, milk, blood, and liquor are the staples. Hm. But liquid type isn’t the only aspect of preparing a base, only the most influential. I won’t go into detail, but certain imbuing methods can prime liquids to be more effective in certain regards … duration, potency, and reactivity, the three recurring cornerstones. Additionally, they ready the base for accepting certain sorts of effects. An even more varied topic … best left for self-research.”

Zoey nodded along.

“Moving on. Brewing. Where alchemy is otherwise a profession of knowledge, brewing is the … skill-reliant stage. There’s a surprising amount of intricacy that tutelage can’t provide.”

“Really?”

Sabina hummed. “It wouldn’t seem so, watching an alchemist go about production. But it’s true. Alchemy is not simply memorizing recipes and performing predetermined actions. Come look.”

Zoey took a step closer, peering in at the bubbling cauldron Sabina had indicated. “What?”

“This portion is overheating,” Sabina said, stirring the liquid. “At two o’clock. The bubbles give it away. I couldn’t begin to tell you how to determine such a thing; it’s simply obvious to me. An intuition which is afforded to us by our rune … or so is the consensus in the artificing community. But regardless—brews are temperamental. They don’t want to stabilize. They struggle for entropy, to revert to a disordered state, in clever and interesting ways. There’s a certain instinct needed to identify problems as they emerge. It’s the least teachable part of alchemy, and what separates the wheat from the chaff. The good from the mediocre.”

“And it comes with practice?”

Sabina nodded. “Or, excellency is discovered with practice, at least. Whether it exists in everyone, innately, is a matter of philosophy.”

Zoey had always wondered that. Whether everyone could be exceptional at something, assuming they worked hard enough. At a very minimum, not everyone could be world-class. There seemed to be some enigmatic quality in certain people that allowed it. But Zoey wasn’t trying to be a world-class alchemist … just pretty good. She did think anyone could reach that point—though admittedly some faster than others.

“But as to the point,” Sabina said. “Brewing. As with bases, the three main qualities—potency, duration, reactivity—are affected during the active brewing process. Primarily, by two things: temperature, and duration of the cook itself. Long simmers result in long durations, and weaker potency. High temperature raises reactivity, producing more colorful effects. On the other hand, low temperatures—some brews are chilled, rather than heated—produce stable, consistent results. Which is useful, occasionally. All things are useful, occasionally. Standard brewing is done with heat.”

“And a quick brew means higher potency?” Zoey asked, just to be sure. “With less duration?”

“Indeed. Hm. Beyond that, there are requirements of the process that only prevent a brew from degrading, rather than being adjustable to your goal, as temperature or cook length. For example, consistency. Maintaining even distribution of ingredients, and of the temperature across the liquid, is a necessity. Failure to do so will result only in inferior product, or failure to catalyze at all.”

“Huh,” Zoey said. “And that book you recommended goes more in depth?”

Sabina nodded. “I’m giving you an overview, but you’ll want to dive deeper on your own. Where I’ll come in most use for you is hands-on oversight, or questions you might have that self-study couldn’t provide answers to.”

“Makes sense.” It seemed Zoey had some work cut out for her, poring over a textbook. That wasn’t Zoey’s style, but again … when it came to magical potion-making, which would eventually result in lewd potions to play with … she thought she’d be able to make herself sit still.

“After brewing is the final step,” Sabina said. “Bottling. Outsiders might assume this step is irrelevant. It is not. The physical properties of what you pour a completed brew into affects the final result.”

“Oh,” Zoey said. “You’re right. I wouldn’t have expected that. What kind of properties? Material?”

“In much the same way imbued water is the standard, so is glass,” Sabina said. “But I’m sure you’ve noticed some deviation.”

Zoey had. Sabina’s shelves were predominantly filled with thin glass vials, but there were plenty of exceptions.

“And shape,” Sabina added. “Not just material. Again, I’ll give a bird’s-eye view. As with everything else, finances come into play. Glass is cheap, and vials are easily manafactured—or collected and repurposed from expended shard loot. As for the properties … glass is inert. It doesn’t affect potions in any particular way. Something like wood, however, is preserving. Even under extreme temperatures, or long storage times, the potion won’t spoil.”

“Potions spoil?”

Sabina quirked an eyebrow. “I just said they did.”

Zoey nodded. “Yeah. Just surprised, I meant.” Sabina’s blunt reply had showed, again, she wasn’t the best at interpreting Zoey’s non-direct responses. She really was a bit odd. It was kind of cute. Maybe it’d be abrasive if Sabina had sounded annoyed, but she said everything so matter-of-fact, not irritated. “And metal?” That had been the third potion-holder she’d seen in Sabina’s shop.

“Iron,” Sabina corrected. “Iron is an interesting one. It’s good for a … sort of fermentation. Letting a potion sit inside an iron container can result in curious final products.” Her lips quirked. “And, more mundanely, it’s a material not prone to shattering. Which has certain use-cases during a hectic mission, so I’ve been told.”

Zoey usually took potions preemptively, so she’d never needed to take one out in the middle of a fight … but yeah, she saw Sabina’s point. “And all the funky shapes,” Zoey said.

“Shaping is an odd thing,” Sabina said. “And unreliable. But yes. Each has noticeable effects. Vials, as I said, are common because of their inertness; many alchemists prefer not to deal with temperamental bottling. Even I keep it to a minimum. The results are usual more detrimental than helpful. I prefer to refine a process than experiment with bottling.”

“That makes sense.”

“Round containers—truly round, not oblong like a vial—tend toward improved duration. Blocky, toward potency. And finally, odd shapes, reactivity … what the final result might be, after settling inside the container.”

“Odd shapes?”

“Odd shapes. Non conventional. Do I need to specify?”

“No, I get it.” Anything that didn’t fall into conventionally ‘round’, ‘blocky’, or a ‘vial’, she guessed. Wacky designs, like Zoey could imagine being in a mad scientist’s laboratory. “This is pretty cool. There’s some things I had no idea about.”

“We’ve barely scratched the surface.”

“I’ve got a question, though,” Zoey said. “Not related to what we’ve talked about, if that’s fine?”

Sabina waved her hand, indicating to go ahead.

“You mentioned a while ago there were ‘adventuring alchemists’. That some people’s alchemy rune advanced in different ways.”

Sabina bobbed her head. “Since you seem intent on wayfaring, I presume that’s the shape yours will take.”

“What’s that entail?”

“What does any advancement entail? I couldn’t begin to answer.” Sabina hesitated. “But generally? Skills that aid in field-brewing. Likely, you’ll never create potions as powerful as mine, or … inferior in every way, truthfully, but you’ll be able to do so in difficult environments, with minimal equipment and resources. It’s quite useful, I’ve heard, tailoring a potion—even if it may be weaker than average—to whatever situation you find yourself in.”

“Huh.” Zoey could see how it would be.

That her potions wouldn’t be quite as strong did suck a little bit, but of course there were trade offs. The ‘lab worker’ alchemists could produce better product, but Zoey would—eventually—be able to throw something together in the middle of a shard.

“Now,” Sabina said. “This batch is done, so let me handle it before we continue. You can watch me pour.”