CHAPTER 35: ALCHEMY 101

Noah and Arlo left the cafeteria still full from breakfast, the warmth of fresh bread and the chaos Juniper had left behind trailing after them.

Their first class of the day was Alchemy, and according to Arlo, it would be unlike any other magic class they’d had so far.

The alchemy classroom was located in the basement of a building that smelled of chalk dust and crushed herbs.

The windows, which were fixed to the top of the walls where the walls still met open air at ground level, were cracked open, and the scent of dried mushrooms, burnt roots, and powdered crystals filled the air.

Rows of workbenches lined the room, each one fitted with a small cauldron, weighing scale, mortar, pestle, and a collection of labeled jars filled with odd-looking powders and crushed ingredients.

As they settled in, the teacher, a sharp-eyed man with ink-stained fingers and a permanent scowl, wrote a single word on the board.

Transmutation.

He turned to face them. "That is the only word you need to understand in this class."

Alchemy, as they soon learned, was not about casting spells or summoning flames. It was a volatile branch of ritual magic, focused entirely on the act of changing one thing into another. Transmutation, just like the professor had said.

But this was not the sort of flashy transmutation that turned rocks into gold or metal into swords.

Alchemy, here at the Royal Academy, was focused specifically on magical objects and resources, things pulled from beasts, harvested from the land, or extracted through magic.

Its primary goal was transformation into usable forms. Pills, potions, salves, powders, tools a mage could use in battle, healing, or advancement.

It wasn’t like spellcasting, where intention and control could save a failed attempt. In alchemy, failure often meant an explosion.

The teacher explained the core principles of alchemy

The first was stability.

Every ingredient had an innate magical signature. Mixing two conflicting signatures could cause the entire formula to fail.

The second, purity.

The more refined the materials, the more potent the result.

The third principle, catalyst.

Most alchemical recipes required a trigger. A drop of beast blood, a spark of fire mana, or a quick ray of sunshine or moonlight, to begin the transmutation process.

And the final principle, binding. Once transmutation began, it had to be sealed correctly with a containment ritual, or the item would revert. Or worse, explode.

Over the course of the class, the students learned that pills made through alchemy could enhance a mage’s physical abilities for a short period, replenish mana, or even temporarily expand the mage’s magic control or core capacity.

However, the more powerful the pill or potion, the more volatile and expensive the process became.

Alchemy was not about brute force or raw talent. It required patience, and a deep understanding of magical ingredients, most of which were rare, expensive, or dangerous to harvest.

By the end of the lesson, Noah had scribbled down every detail.

He could already tell this was going to be one of those classes that separated casual students from serious mages.

And although he admired its potential, he couldn’t help but wonder if this branch of magic was worth the effort... or the risk.

Just like Enchantment, wouldn’t it be better to let others do the work, and then buy the product from them?

That would require being rich, but to him... that was certainly better. After all, money solves most problems.

But that didn’t mean it was an excuse to slack off in this class, though. No one wants to die by explosion, just because they refused to listen to the lectures on safety.

He carefully scribbled notes, just like the students. And the time passed.

The moment class ended, Noah and Arlo walked out of the basement lab, not wanting to spend a minute longer in there. Why... just why did safety lectures have to be so boring?

When they stepped out of the building, the sun was already high above the Royal Academy, and the chatter of students filled the courtyard.

Noah adjusted his satchel. "We don’t have time to grab anything before the next class."

Arlo checked the time and gave a nod. "Yeah. Theriology’s at the Beast Pen Annex anyway. It’s all the way at the edge of campus. Better we just head there directly."

Noah sighed, stomach already grumbling, but nodded in agreement.

Together, they cut through a garden trail behind the Enchantment wing, taking the long path that curved past the southern end of the campus.

The number of students thinned the farther they walked, the noise fading until all that was left was the sound of boots on gravel and the distant screech of some caged creature.

The Beast Pen Annex stood tall and wide at the edge of the school grounds, its stone walls reinforced with thick steel rails.

Large barred windows lined the sides, but the real attention was drawn to the giant building it was connected to.

The beast pen itself was a giant enclosed dome that supposedly had more space beneath ground level than above ground level.

Noah had heard rumors of the kind of beasts in there, but no first year had been inside the beast pen. Yet.

Turning away from the beast pen, they walked into the annex, pushing past the double doors into a long classroom with large windows that let the light in.

The seats were arranged in half-circles, tiered slightly to give everyone a view of the teaching platform in the middle. Noah and Arlo picked seats in the middle row and settled in.

Noah pulled out his scroll and ink from his satchel, setting them down on the table.

Arlo leaned in. "I heard there’s a Thunderspine Bear in the beast pen. Apparently its roar can shatter bones if you’re too close."

Noah raised an eyebrow, taking mental notes. "Theriology’s going to be fun."

A few more students trickled in, and just as the last one sat down, the doors opened.

A tall man strode into the room. His left arm was missing from the elbow down, the sleeve of his uniform rolled and pinned. His face was lined with scars, old ones, faded but brutal. His eyes scanned the classroom like a hawk searching for weakness.

"I am Professor Stark." He said, voice as hard as stone. "Welcome to Theriology."

The class fell into silence as every student straightened instinctively. This was clearly not a class they could sleep through.