Love Crafted - Chapter 39
The professor for your afternoon classes is a reedy little man with huge, huge glasses on, even bigger and thicker than Abigail’s. He’s a bit stooped over as he stands at the front of the room, but straightens and smiles as the last of his students come in.
This class is also pretty strange, instead of sitting down behind a desk, you’re all made to sit behind one of the counters in the room. There’s a sink in each one, and a little burner thing and its all covered in shiny steel. You wonder if there will be cooking involved?
“Greetings, everyone. I am Doctor L. Boratory. I have worked here as a professor for quite some time now, though my passion lies not in teaching but in the fine arts of discovering the properties of reagents both magical and not.”
You shift on the little stool you’re sitting on between Abigail and Charlotte. This little doctor man’s talking is very slow and steady, but he’s also excited. Like he’s trying to bore you as quickly as he can.
“I will need a few volunteers… Thank you gentlemen, please pass out the subject of today’s lesson. This,” he says while raising a small jar filled with white powdery stuff. “Is Acid of Sugar.”
A couple of boys from the front of the class walk around placing jars on each table. You take one too and sniff at it, but the white stuff is locked within the jar. You don’t think you’re supposed to eat this since its in a jar and not on a plate.
“Acid of Sugar, sometimes called oxalic acid, is one of the easiest substances to produce artificially. Can anyone tell me whether this is a magical substance or not?” the doctor asks.
One student raises a hand and Boratory points to him. “If it can be reproduced it’s not magical,” he says.
The Doctor smiles and it makes him look a bunch young. “Very good response. Wrong, but very good. It’s a common misconception that anything non-reproducible must be magical in nature. And yet we are unable to reproduce wood through mundane or magical means and wood, at least from common trees, is definitely non-magical. There are a few exceptional magical reagents that can be made through artificial means in a well-equipped laboratory, but more on those in a few years. No, the definition of non-magical merely means that the original source of an ingredient is non-magical. In this case a plant known as a sorrel.”
The doctor moves to the back of his own counter at the very front. “Acid of Sugar is where we will begin. Not only is it low on the alphabetical order, it is also mostly harmless. Though I would advise against rubbing it onto your skin or consuming it in its concentrated form. You have the next half hour to discover the properties of this reagent and prove each of these properties via experimentation. No circles. No magic. You may use the burners, reactive liquids and any of the alchemical tools you can find beneath your workspaces. Once we are done, your notes will be copied and brought to the front. We will then discuss your findings. Any queries?”
A young girl near the front raised her hand. “May we work together?”
“Of course! This is a scientific class! The very principles of modern learning require that information be widespread and that knowledge be shared. Of course, your midterms and finals will depend on your individual skill, so don’t slack off.” Doctor Boratory grins. “Begin!”
There some shuffling all across the room as students start to do stuff.
“Ah, I’m awful at this sort of thing,” Charlotte says.
“I can help,” Abigail says. “I work for Madam Morrigan’s Artifices, Tinctures and Ingredients. All I did for the first months I worked there was check the potency of different reagents and verify their purity. I think I could do all of this with my eyes closed.”
Charlotte hums. “Wonderful! Maybe you can show me a few tricks then.”
Abigail’s grin is huge and very proud as she begins setting up a whole host of small devices across your table. You’re left sitting back and playing with you own jar of acid of sugar. Shrugging, you pop it open and swallow it whole.
“I have a note,” You say to the girls who are trying to light a burning thingy. “This acid of sugar does not taste like sugar. It makes the tongue go fizzly, and smells like flowers that died.”
Abigail and Charlotte both freeze at that.
“Aren’t you supposed to write that down?” you ask. “For science?”
You like this science stuff if it lets you eat things.
“Dreamer, are you, ah, bored?” Abigail asks. She sounds nervous, as if you being bored would be a bad thing. Which is silly. If you started being bored you’d find something interesting to do. There’s no reason for her to worry.
“I see,” Charlotte says. She reaches into her robes and pulls out Web, carefully holding her between thumb and index. “Dreamer, you’ve met Web already, but what you don’t know is that Web loves playing patty-cake. Do you know how to play?” she asks and continues when you nod. “Could you do me a favour and play with her a bit? I don’t want her to be bored all class long since she can’t help the way you can.”
Well, if it’s to do a small favour for a friend. ”Okay,” you say.
You don’t know why Abigail is looking at Charlotte the way she is. Charlotte shrugs one shoulder. “I’m a bigger sister,” she says and it sounds like she’s gloating but you can’t see why.
Patty-cake with Web is fun. At first she’s winning because she cheats by having more limbs, but then you whip out some teeny tiny tentacles and soon your hands and tentacles are blurring as fast as Web’s tiny little… spider leg things.
Web stops after a bit and spins around a few times while making a long, ropey length of web. She jumps on your hands and stretches it out between your fingers, then moves to the other hand while you watch. It clicks a moment later; she’s making a cat’s cradle!
“Ohh, pretty,” you say as you watch the intricate web grow.
You’re distracted out of playtime when Abigail stands up and starts talking, but it’s not to you. Instead she’s reading off a long, long list of things that you realize are all about the Acid of Sugar stuff you ate earlier.
When she’s done, she sits back down and is congratulated by the Doctor for being very good, which is as it should be.
When class ends some time later, Abigail is still smiling big and happy.