The pale beam of light dissipated.
Maxime and Fleur stepped out of it, walking toward a carriage pulled by golden horses with silver manes and crimson eyes, each roughly the size of an elephant. These were Abraxans, a colossal breed of winged horse.
After settling into the carriage, Maxime noticed the lingering discouragement in Fleur's eyes and offered a gentle comfort. "This isn't your fault. We simply arrived too late."
Fleur made a visible effort to compose herself, reclaiming her usual poise. "It's a good thing Monsieur Flamel found a disciple he likes. But that young man… doesn't he seem quite young?"
Maxime glanced at the rapidly receding ground outside the window. "Indeed, he looks very young. He should still be in school—likely Hogwarts or Durmstrang."
"What, do you wish to meet him?"
Fleur did not deny it. She truly wanted to. What kind of prodigy must a wizard be to be accepted as Nicolas Flamel's private disciple?
Maxime gently patted Fleur's head. "It's all right. There will be a chance. He must be an excellent young wizard, and very likely to participate in that ancient competition."
"Speaking of which, preparations for that tournament should begin soon…"
After seeing Maxime and Fleur off, Nicolas rolled his stiff neck. "Getting old again…"
To be honest, the young girl, Fleur Delacour, was quite excellent and well-suited for the path of alchemy. If he had not met Lucien, Nicolas might have been tempted to take her as a student.
But there was no "if."
As he formally instructed Lucien, Nicolas felt increasingly certain that his choice was correct. Lucien displayed an astonishing learning ability, absorbing vast amounts of knowledge with ease.
"Master, Young Master Lucien left some things in his room, as well as a letter." Chubby Apparated beside Nicolas and spoke respectfully.
"Oh?"
Nicolas realized Lucien hadn't mentioned this. A moment later, he arrived in the room Lucien had occupied. On the desk sat two crystal bottles and a thick stack of papers.
Nicolas waved his hand, and the letter pressed beneath the bottles flew into his grasp.
"Teacher, these papers contain aerospace data from an Eastern European country prior to its dissolution. My family has been collecting such records, and I thought they might provide a small reference for your great work…"
Looking at Lucien's handwriting, Nicolas's eyebrows twitched. He hadn't expected his student to leave such a gift.
He continued reading:
"Teacher, contained in the crystal bottles is 'Vitality Rejuvenation,' a potion I have recently developed to replenish life force. I hope you and Madame Flamel find it useful…"
The letter trembled in Nicolas's fingers. He almost thought his aged eyes were playing tricks on him.
Replenish life force?
Those three words carried enough weight to shake his six-hundred-year-old heart.
Nicolas knew the boy's character; he was not one to boast. He set down the letter and moved toward the desk. As he drew closer, an indescribable longing awakened from the depths of his decaying bones, calling to him in the silence.
He stretched out a withered, wrinkled hand and tremblingly picked up a crystal bottle, carefully easing out the stopper. Instantly, a fragrance like rain-soaked grass burst forth. An invisible yet immense vitality flowed from the bottle, rippling through the air as if the room itself had begun to breathe.
Nicolas took a deep breath.
Every cell in his depleted body seemed to sing, savoring the intoxicating sweetness of the essence. Without even tasting it, Nicolas knew the potion would work.
"What exactly did that child…?"
Nicolas's fingers tightened around the glass. He had long ago accepted the toll of aging, learning to remain optimistic within a fragile shell. However, who could truly forget the feeling of robust health?
His and Perenelle's bodies were terribly decrepit. Their bones were as fragile as dry twigs, and even eating had become a luxury; they relied almost entirely on liquid supplements.
This meant that Chubby's exquisite culinary skills, inherited from ancestors who had served world-renowned chefs, were largely wasted.
It was only with Lucien's arrival that the home had regained its vitality, giving Chubby a chance to shine. Nicolas remembered joking with Lucien one evening that watching a young person enjoy a meal improved his own appetite. At the time, the boy had looked thoughtful.
Nicolas noticed a small line of text at the very bottom of the letter:
"Teacher, Chubby's cooking is excellent, and he regrets not being able to present delicious food to you and your wife as his ancestors once did. Besides, a vibrant body might be more suitable for exploring the wonders of the world, don't you think?"
Nicolas murmured the words back to himself. "The wonders of the world…"
"Hahahahahahaha! This kid is truly something... Hahaha.. cough, cough, cough."
He laughed heartedly, and though the laughter tugged at his lungs and triggered a fit of coughing, he didn't care. He tilted his head back and drank the shimmering liquid. Instantly, a surging, gentle vitality burst forth from his stomach like a warm tide, washing away the traces of time.
...
On the other side, Lucien was contemplating his remaining summer holiday plans.
His teacher would have seen the gift by now. Although Muggle aerospace technology and magic were worlds apart, he hoped the data would provide some inspiration.
Thankfully, his aunt had kept an eye on those Muggle regions during the political shifts, allowing him to acquire a bit of a "legacy."
"Thank you for your hard work, Lumen."
Lucien rubbed the shrunken Lumen in his arms. The little Qilin had contributed a bit of blood for the refinement of the potion.
"Master, can I have some more candy? The lemon sherbet, licorice wands, and cockroach clusters I had at the Headmaster's office last time…"
Listening to the Qilin's recited menu, Lucien shook his head helplessly but pulled a handful of sweets from his pocket. "Eat a little at a time. Be careful of cavities; they hurt."
Though a Qilin likely wouldn't get cavities, he still warned it—the simple fun of scaring a child.
"Hehe, okay, Master!" Lumen nuzzled Lucien's arm before leaping up to snatch the treats.
Since Lucien's potion talent had improved through Nicolas's library, he was now able to refine potions using Qilin blood effectively. It was no longer simple blending, but a process that amplified the blood's life-rich properties.
Tomorrow, I'll send a portion to Newt and Tina as well, Lucien thought.
Newt traveled the world and was constantly in danger; he needed the boost. Newt had given him guidance and his own enchanted case—Lucien intended to repay that kindness.
"Oh, right, System. This 'Vitality Rejuvenation' is my own invention. If I sell it, does it count toward the loan mission?"
A treasure that could extend life would sell for any price. Even if the volume was low, the total gold earned would skyrocket.
[...]
[Uh, well, Host, um... you see...]
Lucien understood the System's hesitation. It had only been a casual question. If the sales volume grew, the gold would follow anyway.
"Never mind. Do as you please. I'll get back to work."
Lucien had designed several alchemical tools and potions during his stay and had samples ready.
"Next step," he mused, "is to find a sales agent."
________
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