Aspiring Alchemist Vehya has twice failed her entrance exam into The Academy for Sorcery, Linguistics and Alchemy. Given one final opportunity to prove her skills as a mage, Vehya falls in with an odd group of students and must conquer feelings of d...
Vehya's shop was almost as old as Kurndun itself. Made of sturdy blue cobblestone, the apothecary had retained the purpose for which it was built. The while not the largest assortment of arcane goods, it was a place of knowledge and healing, and the people here knew if you needed something beyond the reach of a mundane healer, the squat unassuming apothecary was the best place in Kurndun. A melting pot of a city, Kurndun was eager to swallow the shop whole and pretend it had never been there, but regardless of who occupied it, The Apothecary remained; determined to outlast its neighbourhood.
That was why, on one warm spring afternoon, Vehya Lerron felt her skin prickle. That sort of thing happened from time to time; when one ageless place was graced by a timeless being. Naliose Crocker, dressed in a dark violet suit that was all sharp angles. He had a bowler hat atop his head and tapped his glass-topped cane gently on the sunken floorboards. Vehya, barefoot with tired eyes, crept from the back room where she had been sorting a large sack of sodium carbonate into tiny pouches to be made into soap, among other things.
A man who rarely looked out of place in any part of Kurndun, Crocker seemed to be swinging his icy gaze across the shop with an air of uncertainty. The dark wood of her workbenches matched the shaft of the cane he cradled and the pockets on his vest, gold buttons gleaming, reminded her of the many drawers around him.
It was an odd concoction of emotions that greeted the shopkeeper; caution, anguish, regret and just a spark of anticipation, as though she were teetering on a cliffs edge. Vehya pushed them all down and brushed her fingers on her smock, yet no residual particles lingered from her task.
"I really don't understand your fondness for this place." The gentleman grumbled, voice deep and lacking warmth.
Knowing full well her presence had been noted, and not overly pleased to be leering in her own shop, Vehya emerged from behind a glass cabinet. Her long fingers brushed the clean surface, dried herbs and flower petals sat in jars beyond her reach.
"It is a good place to think, and a better place to learn." She had needed to focus and clear her mind.
"Better than what? A quiet library? The grand scroll compendium? This little pharmacy is a time capsule of ignorance." The man spun his cane, the glass topper catching and trapping their reflections. He spared her precious assortment of jars, vials and plants little more than a causal glance.
"The Orders would be far less equipped to deal with the Trails without this place." Vehya mumbled softly shifting her feet and keeping her eyes low. Crocker's upturned lip marked his disagreement.
"Our order," Crocker corrected her and began removing his elegant gloves in a ritualistic manner, "would be further equipped if promising young mages spent less time mixing potions and devoted themselves to proper training."
The soft thwack of leather against the wooden bench almost made her flinch. Crocker's cold eyes held her prisoner for a moment taking in her dishevelled appearance; dark hair sticking out behind her ears, even darker circles beneath her rusty irises, no shoes on her feet, but she wore a pristine smock. He sighed, the sound of wind in willow leaves, and then his commanding exterior cracked slightly revealing her concerned mentor.
"It won't be long now. I suggest you prepare your things, skhavi." Vehya glanced up at him thrown by his tone; despite everything; that had happened last time and the time before that, Naliose Crocker still somehow believed in her abilities.
She gave him a small lopsided smile. "You haven't called me that since I smashed in your office window, Sir." Vehya was no longer his student, having graduated from Asla College almost three years ago, but she would always consider him one of her better teachers, if only for his tolerance.
Crocker adjusted his black hat; he hadn't bothered to remove it upon entering her shop, and shook his head. "You have a lot more learning to accomplish Miss Lerron and regardless of how you may support the Academy with your... resources, it is your skill they need most."
Vehya gestured around her shop. "This is probably the best place for my skill, Prof." Her voice sounded pathetic, her rebellious fire as a teen now little more than a ruby coal, but at least here nestled amongst her beakers and powders, she wasn't likely to bring down the integrity of the most prestige academic building in Kurndun, both morally and structurally. "They already let me try twice, even if I passed the practical exam, I doubt they would take me in with open arms. That's if they even let me through the gates this year."
Crocker reached into his vest and removed a black envelope. It was sealed with orange wax. Vehya's chest clenched and she tilted forward about to snatch the letter from his hands, but she did not. She had managed to muster some self-control since he'd seen her last.
"The Committee informed me of your past attempts and their concerns should you enrol again."
"How did you persuade them?" She asked eyeing her ticket onto the Academy grounds.
"I told them I am aware that you certainly know how to make an impactful impression." His intelligent gaze met hers and no longer was she a reckless adolescent snapping up any opportunity for attention. "All you have to do is prove you are capable of making the right impression."
He had left without further word, dropping the envelope on the workbench. Vehya saw him pause slightly at the door, taking in the space around them. The woman watched him leave and a heavy feeling pressed into her chest, a sinking stone disappearing beneath still waters. "If only it were so easy."
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