Домагой Курмаич - Mother of Learning

As he entered his residence building he noted that someone was already in a celebratory mood, because the walls of the corridor he was passing through were full of colorful splotches in vivid yellow, green, and red.

"Zorian! Just the man I was looking for!"

Zorian jerked in shock at the loud voice behind him and whirled around to face the man who invaded his personal space. He scowled at the grinning idiot in front of him.

"Why are you here, Fortov?" he asked.

"What, I can’t visit my little brother?" he protested. "You too good to hang out with big bro?"

"Cut the crap, Fortov. You never come to me when you just want to hang out with someone. What do you need help with, now?"

"That’s totally not true," he huffed. "You’re my favorite brother, you know?"

Zorian stared at him impassively for a few seconds. "Daimen isn’t here so you’ll settle for me, huh?"

"Daimen is an asshole," Fortov snapped. "Ever since he got famous he’s always too busy to help out his younger brother. I swear, that guy only thinks about himself."

"The hypocrisy is thick with this one," Zorian mumbled.

"Sorry, I didn’t catch that," Fortov said.

"Nothing, nothing," Zorian waved dismissively. "So what kind of trouble are you in now?"

"Um, I might have promised a friend I’ll make her an anti-rash potion," Fortov said sheepishly.

"There is no such thing as an anti-rash potion," huffed Zorian. "There is, however, an anti-rash salve , which is applied directly to the affected skin instead of being imbibed like a potion is. This just shows what a total dunderhead you are when it comes to alchemy. What the hell were you thinking, promising your friend something like that?"

"I kind of pushed her into a purple creeper patch during our wilderness survival class," Fortov admitted. "Please, you have to help me! I’ll find you a girlfriend if you do!"

"I don’t want a girlfriend!" snapped Zorian irritably. Least of all the kind of girlfriend Fortov would set him up with. "Look, why are you bothering me about this? Just go to the apothecary and buy some."

"It’s Friday evening. All stores are closed in preparation for the celebration tomorrow."

"Well that’s too bad, because I can’t help you," said Zorian. "First two years are all theory and lab safety, and I’m just starting my third year. We haven’t done any serious alchemy in class so far."

So true and yet such a bald-faced lie. He hadn’t done all that much alchemy in class but he had done quite a bit of private study in his free time. He could make an antidote for the purple creeper rash easily, but why should he spend his expensive alchemical ingredients?

"Oh man, come on. You can speak three different languages and you know all the silly shaping exercises they make us learn, but you can’t even do something so basic? What the hell are you doing in your room all day long if not learning how to do stuff like that?"

"You’re one to talk!" Zorian snapped. "You’re a year older than me, you should be perfectly capable of doing this yourself."

"Eh, you know I never cared for alchemy. Too fiddly and boring for me," Fortov said with a dismissive wave. "Besides, I can’t even make vegetable soup without ruining mom’s kitchenware, do you really want me around alchemical equipment?"

Well, when he put it that way…

"I’m tired," Zorian said. "I’ll make it tomorrow."

"Are you crazy!? Tomorrow is too late!"

"Oh come on, it’s not like she’ll die of a goddamn rash!" said Zorian irritably.

"Please, Zorian, I know you don’t care about these kind of things but she’s crushing on this boy and-"

Zorian groaned and tuned him out. That’s pretty much all he needed to know about this emergency .

"-and if my friend’s rash isn’t fixed by then she won’t be able to go and she’ll never forgive me ! Please, please, please-"

"Stop it."

"-please, please, please, please-"

"I said stop it! I’ll do it, okay? I’ll make the damn salve, but you owe me big time for this, you hear?"

"Yup!" he said cheerfully. "How much time do you need?"

"Meet me at the fountain in about three hours," Zorian sighed.

Zorian watched him as he ran away, probably so he wouldn’t change his mind or make some concrete demands. He shook his head and went back to his room to retrieve the necessary alchemical reagents. The academy had an alchemical workshop students could use for their own projects, but you had to bring your own ingredients. Fortunately, he had everything he needed for this particular task.

The workshop was totally empty aside from him, but that wasn’t very unusual. Most people were preparing for the dance tomorrow and were unlikely to do some last-minute alchemy practice. Unfazed by the eerie silence of the workshop, Zorian scattered the reagents across the table and set to work.

Ironically, the main ingredient of the anti-rash salve was the very plant that was the cause of this mess – the purple creeper, or more accurately its leaves. Zorian had already left them to dry in the sun, and now they only had to be ground to powder. This was generally the most annoying part of the procedure, as purple creeper leaves released a cloud of irritating dust into the air if they were simply crushed with a standard mortar and pestle set. The textbooks he read had all sorts of fancy ways to deal with this, usually involving expensive equipment, but Zorian had a much simpler solution: he wrapped the leaves in a slightly wet piece of cloth, then wrapped the whole thing in a piece of leather, and then hammered the resulting lump until he felt no resistance. The irritating dust would bond with the cloth and the leaf pieces wouldn’t.

After mixing the leaf dust with 10 drops of honey and a spoon of oblia berry juice, he put the whole thing over a low fire, stirring the contents until they achieved uniform color and consistency. Then he removed the bowl from the fire and sat down while he waited for the stuff to cool.

"That was very impressive work," a rather feminine voice sounded behind him. "Nice improvisation with the creeper leaves. I’ll have to remember that trick."

Zorian recognized the owner of the voice though, and Kael wasn’t really female, despite some nasty rumors. He turned around to face the morlock boy, studying his bone white hair and intense blue eyes for a moment before returning his attention to cleaning the alchemical equipment he had used. No reason to get barred from using the workshop because he failed to clean up after himself.

He struggled to formulate a response while Kael was inspecting the salve with a practiced eye. The boy was rather mysterious, having only joined their group this year by transferring from gods knows where, and not being very talkative. Plus, you know, he was a morlock. How long had the boy been watching him? Sadly, he had a tendency to lose track of his surroundings when he worked on something so he couldn’t tell.

"It’s nothing special," Zorian finally said. "Now your work… that’s impressive. I get the notion that you’re on a whole different level from the rest of us when it comes to alchemy. Even Zach can’t beat you most of the time, and he seems to be acing everything these days."

The white-haired boy smiled mildly. "Zach doesn’t have the passion for the subject. Alchemy requires a craftsman’s touch and a lot of patience, and no matter how extensive his knowledge is, Zach just doesn’t have the mentality for it. You do. If you had as much practice with alchemy as Zach apparently does, you’d surpass him for sure."

"Ah, so you think he has prior experience, too?" Zorian inquired.

"I do not know him as well as yourself and the rest of your peers, having only recently joined your group. Still, one does not get as proficient in this field as Zach apparently is in a matter of months. He works with the practiced ease of someone who has been doing alchemy for years."