In the desert layer of the suitcase world, Lucien gazed up at the towering erald tree, its form now solid and tangible.
Snap!
He pulled his right hand back from the tree's surface, a scattering of fine powder drifting down into the sand. Looking at his palm, he saw a faint green pattern—a miniature version of the tree, though incomplete, with missing roots, trunk, and branches.
"Alchemy…" Lucien murmured, his mind turning to the steps and requirents of his loan repaynt task.
Within a year, he needed to sell 30,000 alchemical items or potions, totaling 150,000 Galleons. Quality and quantity were key, but so were the sales channels.
Production was the first hurdle to clear.
The initial costs for both potions and alchemy were steep—no way around it, both were money pits. Fortunately, Lucien had a solid financial foundation to start with. Once the products turned a profit, he could reinvest and scale up.
Promotion was another factor. He needed to build a reputation fast.
Reputation…
Lucien's thoughts drifted to the Transfiguration paper Dumbledore had asked him to write. If it gained traction in the wizarding world, it could boost his product sales. After all, selling under his own na ant his reputation and his goods would go hand in hand.
Better speed up that paper, then.
Producing alchemical items and brewing potions would also require manpower. Lucien knew he couldn't do it all himself—he'd need a lot of help. Hiring wizards or goblins? Money wasn't an issue, but those skilled workers were better suited for crafting high-end, expensive items tailored to wealthy pure-bloods.
Then a word popped into his head: puppets.
After visiting Nicolas Flal's airship, Lucien had seen several types of alchemical puppets. The ones used for stage plays were intricate and finely crafted, while those in factories or farms, performing repetitive tasks, were simpler and more nurous.
If he could create puppets to do the work for him…
The thought sparked sothing. Suddenly, all the knowledge he'd accumulated—alchemy, charms, Transfiguration, potions—clicked together, intertwining and sparking new ideas. Inspiration collided in his mind, igniting a creative fire.
The problem that had stumped him unraveled.
"Right—puppet materials, structure, energy sources…"
Magical materials flew out of Lucien's pockets, and finally, a sparkling ruby hovered in the air.
With a gentle tap of his wand, Lucien activated the newly crafted Philosopher's Stone. A halo of magical energy rippled outward.
---
Nicolas set down his wand, eyeing the bulky full-body suit in front of him. "Hmm, Muggle spacesuits look sothing like this," he muttered. "But with magic and alchemy, we don't need all this bulk. I can streamline it a bit…"
He waved his wand, tweaking the magical version of the spacesuit. But he didn't get far before pausing to rest, sinking into a sofa. It wasn't a lack of magic—his energy was the issue. The Elixir of Life, brewed from the Philosopher's Stone, kept death at bay, but it couldn't restore his vitality. His aging body left him drained, so he worked in short bursts, resting more often than not.
Still, Nicolas was patient. He'd lived for centuries. Ti was one thing he had in spades.
"Master, Young Master Lucien has a question for you," Qubit's voice echoed through the room's communication device.
"Alright, bring him here," Nicolas replied.
A mont later, Qubit Apparated with Lucien and, after a quick bow, vanished. Lucien's eyes caught the white suit in the room. A spacesuit? he thought. It was sleeker than a Muggle one, probably enhanced with magic. Nicolas really was set on exploring outer space.
Snapping his attention back, Lucien greeted, "Good afternoon, Mr. Flal."
Nicolas nodded, returning the greeting. "Qubit said you had a question?"
"Yeah," Lucien said. "I saw the alchemical puppets here and wanted to try making one myself, but I'm hitting so snags."
Nicolas wasn't surprised. Curious kids like Lucien always wanted to tinker with new things. He figured Lucien would ask about the basics—puppet chanics, material composition, or structure. He was already planning to offer so hands-on guidance, maybe help Lucien build a simple limb or a rough model to practice his alchemy.
"I'm trying to use a Philosopher's Stone as the power source," Lucien explained, "but I'm not sure if it's the runes or the materials causing issues. The magic keeps leaking too much. And the puppet's consciousness module—it can handle basic commands, but anything complex, and it glitches out…"
Nicolas frowned. This kid was aiming high—too high, maybe. Alchemy was a precise, disciplined field. You had to take it step by step. He opened his mouth to gently nudge Lucien back to basics, but before he could, Lucien reached into his pocket and pulled out a gleaming silver puppet.
A Philosopher's Stone was embedded in its chest, magic flowing through tiny conduits within the puppet, like blood through veins. Lucien tapped it with his wand, and the puppet sprang to life, leaping and running with fluid, seamless movents.
Then Lucien stopped it, popped open its chest panel, and pointed to the conduits. "See, the magic leaks here and here, but not in other spots. So I'm wondering…"
"You're using materials that are too good," Nicolas interrupted, his voice sharp with focus. "You don't need soft silver athyst. Kelpie-soaked brass would do fine."
He was already on his feet, eyes blazing as he studied Lucien's creation. "You just made this?"
"Yeah," Lucien said. "I figured a Philosopher's Stone would provide pure, stable magic—barely needs converting to et most needs."
Nicolas leaned closer, inspecting the puppet. With his expertise, he could spot plenty of flaws, but the strengths stood out just as much. Lucien's alchemical foundation was solid, though it lacked the polish of systematic study. That was an easy fix—practice and learning would take care of it.
But what Nicolas saw next was sothing you couldn't teach: spark. A natural, intuitive gift for creation.
His gaze shifted from the puppet to Lucien. A suspicion crept in—had Albus and Newt been holding out on him, hiding just how talented this kid was? Were they setting him up for this jaw-dropping surprise?
---
User Comments
0 comments from readers