AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He changed tactic. “Did you never wonder why your family was attacked?”
Of course I had. Only I’d realized I couldn’t rationalize a monster’s actions. “We were killed because of bad luck. My father should have built our house on a rock foundation and not the sand.”
“That wouldn’t have saved your family. I’ll wager one or more of your family were like you, carrying a bit of the old power.”
“Now you’re really making up stories. We had nothing of the sort. If we did, do you think we’d have been poor sand farmers?”
“Having the potential for power doesn’t mean your family recognized it. It’s been a long time since magic had the strength to be felt or used in our world.”
“Are you saying that, along with monsters, magic is returning as well?”
“I’m surprised to hear you question it given your spells.”
“My concoctions are the result of chemical reactions from mixing ingredients. Alchemy is science, not magic.”
“Really. So if Palla were to take the same ingredients and mix them, she’d get the same result?”
“Palla’s not good at making them.” My quick reply. I wasn’t about to admit Palla never once achieved anything that worked.
“Is she that terrible? Or is it because she has no power? Why not finally admit that the prayer you disdain is the most important part?”
“It’s just tradition,” I murmured by rote, even as my mind flashed back to the first time I’d seen Qynn mixing her ingredients.
I watched quietly from a stool as Qynn tapped and shook sprinkles of powders and even drops of liquid into a bowl.
“What are you doing?” I’d asked.
“Making a carefully balanced potion. It must be precise for it to work.”
“What does it do?”
“This one is for the men who can’t function sexually. Very expensive because I sell only a few each week.” Scarcity raised the price.
When she was done grinding and mixing, she bent her head over it in soft prayer, which led to more questions.
“Why do you ask the goddess to bless it?”
“Because without her blessing it is but powder.”
Confusion had me blurting out, “I thought alchemy was about ingredients.”
“For some potions, yes, but for what we want? We need something more.”
I didn’t exactly believe her and assumed Qynn was religiously devout. She wouldn’t be alone. Many found comfort in prayer. Not me. I didn’t believe until I had no choice.
At first, Qynn only allowed me to mix the potions. Once I could do them to her satisfaction, she showed me the prayer. I mumbled it and hid my rolling eyes as I pretended. She always knew and claimed I wasn’t convincing enough.
It led to me learning to be fervent. “Oh Goddess Rotha, bless this potion and make whoever inhales it sleep.”
With Qynn’s permission, I began making my own potions. I followed the recipes precisely. But no more. I refused to do any silly prayers. Without fail, those powders remained just that, powder.
But the moment I asked the goddess for her air and truly focused on what I wanted the composition to do? It changed from powder to whatever I needed. It made no sense then.
In the now, though, I wondered. Was a goddess blessing the process, or was it this magic the King—call me Daksh—claimed I had?
Before I could reply, he did. “You don’t believe me.”
“I think your crown might be too tight.”
