With his hands pressed to his forehead, Allyv sat at the table staring at the research notes. The letters danced in front of his eyes and blurred into meaningless babble. Retorts behind him stood forgotten, and the contents of their dirtied glass brought no solution. Countless combinations of ingredients and their proportions waited to be tested, and he wandered through them like a child through an ancient library. All he needed was one step, one discovery to set the research in the right direction, but all the attempts so far only made him doubt whether a replacement for liquefied magic could even exist.
The essence in his flask shrank every day, and he caught himself torn between trying to preserve it and ensuring his mind was clear enough to do the work. At that thought, he tilted the
