บท 8: The Black Ink
The first light of dawn crept over the castle, casting long shadows across the library where Vaporeon was hard at work organizing scrolls and manuscripts. The library was a quiet haven, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of paper and the occasional creak of wood. The peace was suddenly disrupted by the head librarian's voice.
"Vaporeon, come here." Master Eamon called, his tone urgent.
Vaporeon approached quickly. "Yes, Master Eamon?"
"We're running low on black ink, and there's an important manuscript that must be finished today. Go to the alchemy lab and fetch more. Be quick about it."
Vaporeon nodded, sensing the urgency. "Right away, sir."
As he left the library, Vaporeon's mind raced. This could be my chance to get the yew wood ash. I must be careful. The thought of the Rune of Binding excited him, but he knew the risks were high. If they find out what I'm doing, it could all be over.
He made his way through the winding corridors of the castle, passing through grand hallways lined with portraits and tapestries depicting the castle's history. The stone floors were cold underfoot, and the air grew cooler and more sterile as he approached the alchemy lab. The scent of various herbs and chemicals became more pronounced, a sharp contrast to the musty smell of old books and parchment in the library. He steeled himself for the encounter ahead, knowing that the alchemist was a strict and cautious individual.
Focus, Vaporeon, he reminded himself, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. The alchemy lab was a cluttered room filled with shelves of jars and bottles, their glass surfaces glinting in the dim light. A central table covered with beakers and burners dominated the room. The air was thick with the acrid tang of potions and elixirs, mixed with the earthy aroma of dried herbs. The alchemist, an elderly man with keen eyes, a sharp nose, and a sharp tongue, looked up from his work as Vaporeon entered. His face was lined with age, and a pair of thin spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose. His long white hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, and his robes, though old and worn, were meticulously clean.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" the alchemist demanded, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Vaporeon.
"I'm Vaporeon, the new assistant to the head librarian. He urgently needs more black ink for an important project," Vaporeon explained, maintaining a calm demeanor despite the knot of anxiety tightening in his chest.
The alchemist scrutinized him for a moment before nodding. "My name is Halvor, the Alchemist. Give me just a moment, and I'll make some."
"Thank you, sir," Vaporeon replied, trying to appear earnest. As Halvor prepared the ink, Vaporeon's eyes scanned the room. He noticed several cabinets, each labeled with the contents within. One cabinet, marked "Yew Wood Ash" caught his eye. That must be where they keep the yew wood ash.
As Halvor worked, Vaporeon inquired, "How long have you been working in the alchemy lab, sir?"
"Longer than you've been alive, boy." Halvor replied curtly. "Now, stand aside and let me work."
While Halvor was distracted, Vaporeon subtly manipulated the shadows, causing a shelf of ingredients to topple over with a crash. Glass shattered on the stone floor, and the pungent scent of spilled potions filled the air.
"Damn it!" Halvor cursed, rushing to clean up the mess. "Why is it that things always go wrong when I'm in a hurry?"
"I can help, if you'd like." Vaporeon offered, stepping forward.
"No!" Halvor snapped. "Just stay where you are. I don't need more hands making a mess."
Halvor's young apprentice entered the lab, wide-eyed and eager to help. The apprentice was a lanky youth with a shock of unruly red hair and freckles scattered across his pale face. His robes were a bit too large for him, and he moved with the nervous energy of someone trying to prove themselves.
"Master, I heard a crash. Is everything alright?" the apprentice asked, the worry clear in his voice.
"Just a minor setback. Go fetch more beakers from the storage." Halvor replied impatiently, not looking up.
This is my chance. Vaporeon focused his mind, feeling the familiar pull of shadow magic. Dark tendrils extended from his hand, snaking along the cold, rough stone floor toward the cabinet. The tendrils slipped into the lock, manipulating it until the cabinet door swung open with a faint creak. Another tendril retrieved a small amount of the burnt yew wood ash and brought it back to Vaporeon, who quickly pocketed it.
The apprentice returned with the beakers, but his eyes were drawn to the open cabinet door. "Master, the cabinet... it was closed when I left. Did you need something from there?"
Halvor turned sharply, eyes narrowing at the sight of the open door. "No, I didn't." He walked over, inspecting the contents. "Odd. Nothing seems to be missing."
Vaporeon's heart pounded in his chest. Stay calm. Don't give anything away.
"I must have left it open when I was looking for the ingredients earlier." Halvor muttered. "But it should always be locked. We can't afford to be careless."
"Yes, Master." the apprentice replied, casting a suspicious glance at Vaporeon.
Once Halvor had cleaned up the mess, he handed Vaporeon a bottle of black ink with a suspicious glance. "Here's your ink."
"Thank you, I'll be on my way then." Vaporeon replied, turning to leave.
"One moment, boy," Halvor called out. "I need you to deliver this as well."
He handed Vaporeon a note. "Take this to the head librarian. It's important."
"Understood, sir." Vaporeon said, carefully taking the note. What could this be about? His mind raced with possibilities, each more troubling than the last.
As Vaporeon walked back through the castle corridors, he pondered the contents of the note, wondering if Halvor suspected his true intentions. The note felt cool and smooth in his hand. I have to keep my composure. No one can know what I'm up to.
Upon returning to the library, Vaporeon handed the black ink to the head librarian, along with the sealed note.
Master Eamon opened the note and read it aloud. "The alchemist warns that he suspects someone might be trying to steal precious materials from the lab."
He eyed Vaporeon suspiciously. "Do you know anything about this?"
Vaporeon maintained his composure, despite the fear gnawing at him. "The lab was chaotic when I arrived. Perhaps the alchemist is overreacting due to the mess. I can help keep a closer watch on the library's supplies to ensure nothing goes missing."
Master Eamon's eyes narrowed. "Are you sure you're not hiding something, Vaporeon? You seem rather... nervous."
Vaporeon forced a laugh. "Nervous? No, sir. Just eager to prove myself. I promise, I'll keep a close eye on things."
Master Eamon, though still somewhat suspicious, accepted Vaporeon's explanation. "Very well. Be sure you do. We can't afford any more disruptions."
Finally back in his quarters, Vaporeon took a deep breath, relieved that he hadn't been caught. He carefully placed the stolen yew wood ash. That was too close. I need to be more cautious. One wrong move, and everything I've worked for could crumble.
As Vaporeon began preparing the special black ink needed for the Rune of Binding, he heard a faint knock on his door. His heart pounded. Who could it be now? He quickly stashed the materials under his bed and opened the door cautiously.
It was another guard, his expression stern. "Vaporeon, you're needed in the great hall. There are some questions you need to answer."
Questions? Vaporeon's mind raced. About what? He nodded and followed the guard, trying to keep his breathing steady.
In the great hall, Draegor stood with several of his advisors, including Malchior. Their eyes bore into him as he approached.
"Vaporeon," Draegor began, his voice cold. "We have received troubling reports about strange occurrences in the library. Can you explain?"
Vaporeon swallowed hard. "Strange occurrences, my lord?"
"Yes," Malchior interjected, his eyes narrowing. "Books found out of place, unexplained noises. We need to ensure nothing untoward is happening under our noses."
Vaporeon forced himself to remain calm. "Head Librarian Master Eamon praises my work and trusts me, my lord. I haven't seen anything unusual, but I will keep an eye out for that."
Draegor exchanged a glance with Malchior. "Very well, but we will be watching closely. Do not disappoint us."
"Of course, my lord," Vaporeon replied, bowing his head. As he walked back to his quarters, he felt the weight of their suspicion heavy on his shoulders. I need to be even more careful. Any slip-up could ruin everything.
Finally back in his quarters, Vaporeon took a deep breath, relieved that he hadn't been caught.
Vaporeon began preparing the special black ink needed for the Rune of Binding.
He cleared a small wooden table in the corner of his room and gathered the necessary materials. The process required precision and concentration. Vaporeon took a deep breath and began:
Using a mortar and pestle, he ground the yew wood ash into an even finer powder. The scent of the ash was earthy and slightly sweet, filling the room with an almost nostalgic aroma.
He retrieved the black ink he had stashed in his room and poured a small amount into a shallow dish. The ink was thick and glossy, reflecting the dim candlelight. Slowly, he added the ground ash to the ink, stirring it with a small wooden stick. The ink darkened further, taking on a more opaque quality.
From a small vial, he added a few drops of a special binding agent. The liquid was clear but had a faint metallic smell. As it mixed with the ink and ash, it caused the mixture to thicken slightly, making it perfect for drawing precise runes.
Vaporeon took a moment to focus his energy, his hands hovering over the mixture. He whispered an incantation under his breath, feeling the familiar pull of shadow magic. Dark tendrils of energy flowed from his fingers into the ink, causing it to shimmer briefly before settling into a deep, dark consistency.
He carefully poured the prepared ink into a small, stoppered vial. The vial was made of dark glass, designed to protect the ink from light and contamination. He held it up, watching the ink swirl inside, its power almost palpable.
As Vaporeon completed the preparation, he felt a sense of accomplishment and anticipation. The Rune of Binding was a crucial step in his journey, and now he had the means to create it. The shadows in his quarters seemed to dance with anticipation, their movements flickering like the candlelight casting them.
As he finished making the ink, a sudden chill filled the room. The shadows seemed to grow darker, more menacing. Vaporeon shivered. Is it just my imagination, or is something... watching me?
He shook off the feeling and focused on his task. But the unease lingered, a constant reminder of the dangers that lay ahead. I have to succeed. There's no turning back now.
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