Heirs of the Gods

Ch 60.2: Hecatomb

"They're so protective of you," Dandelion hummed. "Precious cargo, aren't you?"

"We care for each other."

"They seem to care for you more. Almost as if they were duty-bound," he said knowingly. "I do wonder, who do you work for?"

Ella smiled. "What sort of relationship have you with the Bird?"

Dandelion's grin fell off and he squinted at her. "What has that got to do with anything?"

Ella shrugged delicately. "I thought we were speaking about our working relations. But if that topic isn't to your liking..."

"Stupid elves," Dandelion grumbled. "Alright, let's get this over with, Frost. The sooner, the better, and you'll be out of my hair." He brought up a large box and began taking out items.

He settled a large sphere on the table. The translucent glass had a purplish tint to it. Inside, something smoky swirled. Next, he took out a shell-like basin. It was entirely made of nacre and it gleamed in beautiful tones of pearly greys, iridescent blues and greens.

Ella watched, entranced, as he muttered under his breath and into the room flew multiple jars and bottles, settling on the table. Black salt, so dark it seemed to absorb all colour. A vial the size of a thimble, full of a swirling liquid that shone like a thousand stars. A pot full of dried flowers. A giant, snake-green scaled egg. All sorts of other utensils followed suit.

It was nothing like Sulimona's lab or the items Zella carried either. They mostly dabbled in mixing herbs and unguents, occasionally using items such as eggs hatched at midnight, powdered asphodel or beetle eyes at most.

This was different, she could tell. The items here spoke of something otherworldly. Darker. But darkness wasn't always bad, she'd learned. Sometimes, one had to be able to set foot into the shadows in order to be on equal footing with the worst of evils.

Dandelion brought out a bone mortar. An ancient thing carved and nicked, worn with time. He opened the jar containing the giant green egg and broke off a piece, laid it on the mortar and began using the pestle to grind the shell into a fine powder.

Ella could only watch in silence. She burst at the seams with questions, but kept quiet, observing his agile hands working in brisk and snappy movements. The eggshell was followed by two dried violet flowers, which she vaguely identified as Wolfsbane, a deliriant bloom.

He ground them into a delicate powder, adding them into the mix one petal at a time, before grabbing that jar full of black salt. He scooped in two spoonfuls, using a glass-carved ladle. It emitted a pungent aroma, sulphury and almost egg-like.

Out of a large glass jar, he took out a leggy orange root, which he set on a smooth stone cutting board. Mandrake, she recognised. He brought out a carved silver dagger and crushed the root, making it release a trickle of juice. Once he was satisfied, he added the powder from the mortar into the nacre pot and carefully began to add in the Mandrake juice, drop by drop, all whilst carefully stirring anticlockwise with a bone spoon.

The mixture began to emit a strange smoke, something earthy and sour, pungent. He continued to stir seven more times, before grabbing the thimble-sized vial.

The silver liquid inside it swirled and gleamed like moonlight. It made Ella's breath catch. "It's beautiful... What is it?"

Rather than becoming upset at her interruption, Dandelion stared at the glass and gave an odd, wistful sort of smile. One that lacked all that nastiness he seemed to possess.

"Alicorn tears," he said evenly. "Much more effective than blood, you know. Rarer as well. They gave it to me willingly."

Ella said nothing, only nodded slowly. Dandelion uncorked the bottle and used a tiny crystal dropper to add three drops of the liquid into the mixture. They were surprisingly thick, despite being tears. As soon as they made contact, the potion shivered and wavered, as if poked.