Elora nodded, widening her eyes with interest. “That’s impressive, though. Crafting something so complex takes more than ordinary skill.” She paused, watching him for any sign of reaction. “It must be something only you could achieve.”
Thorn’s gaze flickered slightly, a tinge of something like pride shining in his eyes. He straightened his posture in a way that implied he was attempting to exude the presence of royalty. “Being a scholar isn’t a field for the faint-hearted. It requires discipline, sacrifice, and precision.” His voice became almost reminiscent. “It’s far more than just curiosity.”
Elora held his gaze, letting her admiration linger just long enough to press her advantage. “If I were only to understand the process, a bit better… even if just to see how it all fits together,” she said, with all the sincerity she possessed. “I thought you were just the headmaster. I never realized that you were such a remarkable scholar, too.”
Thorn hesitated, his stare intensifying as he studied her face. She sensed a slight shift in his posture, a crack in his cool façade, as if her words had struck close to something he wasn’t willing to admit. The likeness to his niece—the girl who must have once regarded him with the same innocent curiosity—was weakening his usual resolve. She could almost see him thinking of Florence, indulging her fascination with alchemy the way an uncle would.
He inclined his head, almost thoughtfully. “You could never truly learn it. Alchemy requires far more than passive interest.” He took a step closer, his gaze sharpening again. “But perhaps… I might indulge you enough to satisfy that curiosity.”
There it was. An in. She’d grabbed his attention in just the right way. If she could keep him talking, keep stroking his pride, maybe—just maybe—he’d start to see her as more than a body strapped to a table. And if escape failed, if Tehvan couldn’t get her out… then maybe Thorn wouldn’t destroy her.
“Thank you,” she whispered, allowing a small, grateful smile. “It’s rare to witness mastery like yours up close.” She kept her tone light, humble, while letting just the faintest flicker of awe warm her words.
Thorn’s demeanor stayed cool, but she caught the subtle satisfaction in his eyes, the glimmer of pride in his accomplishments. “Then perhaps,” he murmured, “I’ll allow you to watch. Just once.”
A spark of triumph lit within Elora’s thoughts, though she kept her face passive. Thorn’s indulgence was her opening, small, yes, but one she was determined to make the most of.
Chapter 22
Thorn
(18 years ago)
Soft, golden light bathed the study as the afternoon sun filtered through the tall, arched windows. It was a warm, inviting space filled with neatly stacked books, intricate diagrams pinned to the walls, and shelves lined with jars and vials of every shape and size. A delicate whiff of dried herbs and ink permeated the air. Thorn sat at his desk, a massive, ornate piece of craftsmanship with Flora perched on the edge of a cushioned chair nearby.
She was only seven, but her curious nature had already shone through. Her dark hair framed her freckled face, and her wide sky-blue eyes gleamed with little sunbursts of curiosity as she held a small sample of blood towards the light. Thorn had been lecturing her on the Thorn family’s contributions to the Empire’s history, but his words trailed off as he noticed her distraction.
“Flora,” he said, placing the large tome down upon his desk. “Are you listening?”
She didn’t answer right away, too engrossed in the vial. The crimson liquid within glowed faintly in the sunlight, and her tiny fingers turned it carefully, examining the way the light refractedthrough it. Finally, she gazed at him, a question etched into her furrowed brows.
“Uncle, if Mahoamorah pumps life into the land, keeping everything alive, then doesn’t blood do the same for us? Isn’t it... the same essence?”
Thorn sat up in his chair, surprised by the observation. He had anticipated her asking something childish about the vial or the study, not to draw such a connection. He crossed his arms, studying her carefully.
“Blood has been studied extensively, Flora. It carries essence, yes. The very same essence as Mahoamorah’s sap. But it is impure. Polluted. It lacks the potency of the sap that flows through the Heart Tree.”
She nodded, her lips pressing together as she processed his answer. He expected her to drop the subject, move on to another one of hundreds of questions. But she surprised him. “What if it could be purified? Like water in the filtration chambers? Or with plants, like spirit grass or goldroot?”
Thorn blinked, momentarily stunned. Those plants were basic purification agents, commonly used in alchemical solutions. They would be unsuitable for something as complex as blood, of course, but the fact that she had connected them to the problem at all was remarkable. A swell of pride, mixed with intrigue, washed over him. She wasn’t merely absorbing knowledge; she was thinking, questioning, trying to solve problems even seasoned scholars had dismissed.
“They wouldn’t work,” he said, but with a careful tone as to not discourage her curiosity. “Not for something like this. But...” He glanced at the blood sample, her little fingers still curled around it. “It’s an interesting thought.”
Floraflew off the cushion, almost crushing the vial, as she splayed her fingers on the edge of his desk, balancing on her tiptoes. Her big, beautiful eyes were shining with excitement. “What about a type of equipment like the filtration chambers but using those crystals–” she paused, searching for the right word. “–the harmonic crystals.”
Harmonic crystals, they were rare, found in the depths of the caves scattered across the island on which Mahoamorah stood. They were still being studied, as they were a relatively new discovery when the empire was finally successful in breaking through the Al’teran forces. He had a few at his disposal. They were quite remarkable, clear shards with droplets of gold frozen in time within them. The vibrations and alchemical resonance they emit might destabilize the bonds between molecules. Along with filtration lattice, they might be able to separate blood, plants, anything, down to its purest form.
“It’s... a theory,” Thorn said, already seeing the idea taking shape in his head. Blood as a substitute for MahoKi Sap. They discarded the notion long ago, but what if they hadn’t explored it thoroughly enough? What if the right purification process unlocked something extraordinary? His eyes rested on Flora again and felt an odd pang in his chest. How was it possible for someone so young to perceive links others, including himself, had missed?
“Perhaps one day, we’ll test it,” he said, smiling faintly as he leaned forward to take the vial from her. His fingers brushed hers as he placed it on the desk, and he saw her eyes light up with pride.
Flora nodded eagerly, then returned to her chair, her attention finally shifting back to the books and charts on his desk. Thorn watched her for a moment longer, his own thoughts turning over her words. She had planted a seed—one he hadn’t realized was waiting to take root.
“Good work, Flora.”
At that moment, the study was alive, not just with knowledge but with promise. She wasn’t just his niece; she was his legacy, the one who would take everything the Thorn family had built and make it greater.
Chapter 23
