The table was covered in glass. Vials, beakers, mortars, and tubes lined the wood. They caught the light of the single lantern burning in the center.
Yoren stood over the workspace. He wore a leather apron stained with old chemicals. His hands were steady. They did not shake. They never shook during the brew.
The smell of sulfur and crushed bone hung in the air. It was sharp. It burned the back of the throat. Yoren did not mind. He was used to the taste of alchemy.
He looked at the ingredients. Three small piles sat on the table.
The first was acid gland from the Thornmaw. It glowed faintly green.
The second was marrow dust from the Bloodfang. It was white and fine.
The third was ash from the Nullkin. It was gray and lifeless.
These were the components for Level Two. Level One used only Nullkin ash. Level Two required predator parts. Level Three required something Yoren did not have yet.
He picked up the notes. They were old. The paper was yellowed and brittle. The edges were frayed.
The handwriting was not his. It was looped and elegant. His writing was sharp and jagged. He had found these notes with the rings. They were tucked inside a hidden compartment of the box they came in.
Yoren said, Step four.
He read the line again. He had read it a hundred times. He still checked every word.
The notes said, Add marrow slowly. Stop when the vapor turns blue.
Yoren picked up the mortar. He held it over the beaker. The liquid inside was boiling silently. It was a mixture of distilled water and stabilizer.
He tipped the mortar. The white dust fell into the liquid.
The reaction was immediate. The liquid hissed. White vapor rose from the beaker. It curled around Yoren's fingers.
He watched the color. It was gray. Then it was green. Then it was purple.
He stopped pouring. He set the mortar down. He waited.
The vapor shifted. It turned blue. It was a faint shade, like the sky before a storm.
Yoren said, Stable.
He picked up the acid gland. He used a pair of tweezers to hold it. He dropped it into the beaker.
The liquid roared. It bubbled violently. The glass shook on the table.
Yoren did not move. He watched the mixture. If it turned black, it was corrupted. If it turned clear, it was pure.
The bubbling slowed. The color faded. The liquid became transparent. It looked like water. It looked harmless.
Yoren knew better. Nothing this potent was harmless.
He picked up a empty vial. He poured the mixture into it. He sealed it with a cork. He waxed the seal immediately.
He set the vial on the rack. There were two others there. They were Level One. They were for Raith.
This one was different. It hummed slightly. He could feel the vibration through the glass.
Yoren wiped his hands on the apron. He walked to the window. The sky outside was changing. The dark gray was turning to orange. Dawn was breaking.
He leaned against the wall. He looked at the rack of vials.
Raith had taken Level One three weeks ago. The results were visible. Raith was faster. Raith was stronger. Raith could see the shadows now.
But Raith had not changed fundamentally. He was still human. He still bled red. He still slept without nightmares.
Level Two was different. The notes claimed it enhanced perception. It allowed the user to see the flow of energy. It allowed the user to sense entities before they appeared.
It was a powerful gift. It was a dangerous gift.
Yoren looked at the notes again. They lay on the table. The ink was faded. Some words were unreadable.
He had never met the writer. He did not know the name. He did not know if the writer was human. He did not know if the writer was alive.
He trusted the notes because they worked. Level One worked. The rings worked. The Fang worked.
But trust was a luxury. Verification was safety.
Yoren said, Who wrote this?
The room did not answer. The shadows in the corner did not move.
He walked back to the table. He picked up the Level Two vial. He held it up to the dawn light.
The liquid caught the sun. It glowed with a faint inner fire. It looked beautiful. It looked deadly.
He thought about Raith. Raith wanted to join the Iron Veil. Raith wanted to be a hero. Raith wanted to stand on the wall and fight.
Level Two would help him. It would make him strong enough to survive the test. It would make him strong enough to survive the job.
But if the notes were wrong, it would kill him. It would mutate him. It would turn him into something else.
Yoren turned the vial in his fingers. The wax seal was smooth. The glass was cold.
He had never given anyone Level Two. He had tested it on animals. It worked on them. They became faster. They became sharper. They died younger.
Humans were not animals. Humans were complex. Humans broke differently.
Yoren said, Is it safe?
The notes said yes. The notes were old. The notes were a mystery.
He looked at his own hands. The rings were silent. They did not warn him. They did not stop him.
He placed the vial back on the rack. He covered it with a cloth. He would not give it to Raith today. He would not give it to Raith until he was sure.
But surety was impossible in Veldrun. Everything was a gamble. Everything was a risk.
He blew out the lantern. The room went dark. The sun was up now. The natural light was enough.
Yoren sat on the chair. He rested his head in his hands. He was tired. The night had been long. The brew had required focus.
He thought about the writer again. He imagined a man sitting at this same table. He imagined a man writing these words with a steady hand.
Did the man know what would happen? Did the man know Yoren would find this? Did the man leave this for him?
Or was it just luck? Was it just debris from the Fracture?
Yoren lifted his head. He looked at the covered vial.
He knew what Level One did to a person. He had seen the changes in Raith. He had monitored the vitals. He had checked the blood.
He had never given anyone Level Two. The notes said it should be safe. The notes were written by someone he had never met and could not verify.
The uncertainty sat in his chest. It was heavier than the rings. It was colder than the blade.
He stood up. He walked to the bed. He lay down. He did not sleep. He watched the covered vial on the table.
It waited in the dark. It waited for a decision.
Yoren closed his eyes. He did not find peace. He found only the question.
A/N Thank you for reading Chapter 6! The secrets of the serum run deep, and Yoren's trust in the inherited notes is being tested. Will he risk Raith's life on unknown instructions? Vote and add Ashes of the Twin Rings to your library to support the journey. See you in Chapter 7!