The Philosopher's Stone

Two small cauldrons of frothy liquid had been prepared by the wizard. At first he added some simple ingredients to get things going, but he gave Saratoga the reins shortly after, letting her add both the two most important parts: The teardrops of life and a few drops of quicksilver.

It was a promising start, but a small snag in the process appeared when Saratoga noticed she’d need to light a small gas flame. Rather than waste any energy trying to spark something up, she took up Moliugas and let him breathe flame over the gas, igniting it and giving her a fire to use.

“Thanks,” she said.

“Anytime. At least, anytime until I get my body back to normal,” he laughed.

Round and round she stirred until the liquids thickened in the heat. She was instructed to then pour both cauldrons contents into separate glass tubes, where they were to sit until they became more gel-like.

It was hard and precise work, but Moliugas and the wizard both took note that Saratoga seemed especially strained by the ordeal. On multiple occasions, Moliugas had to support her arms when she picked up something moderately heavy.

“You look like you could use a break,” Moliugas suggested, worrying that her lack of sleep might have been the cause of her struggle. “The wizard said this part is the perfect time to.”

“There's no time,” argued Saratoga, knowing they still needed to make it back home. “I have to finish this.”

Her persistence was great, but her body fought against her at every turn. She could feel the strength leave her by the second, but she continued to prepare the two philosopher's stones with diligence. It was the only way to save her friend and her mother from their curses.

A sudden strike of rejuvenation hit her when she realized she considered Moliugas a friend. His personality might have been a burden to her, but their journey had been more than enough for her to feel a connection had formed.

Just like her, Moliugas had nothing but friendly thoughts. That was why he was so especially worried about her while she struggled for his sake.

He ran back and forth from the lake, collecting water and making sure it was safe for the witch to drink, as well as stocking her with whatever items she needed.

Time passed slowly, mainly due to the stress, but staying close to each other made it bearable. Eventually, two rainbow looking stones sat before her. All the work she’d put in finally bore fruit.

“It’s done…” She held up the two stones. “Now…” she breathed deeply to collect her strength. “We just need to melt it into the elix…” The force acting against her body finally overcame her, causing her to collapse.

“Oh no! Is she alright?” asked Moliugas, attempting to move Saratoga to a more comfortable position.

The wizard waved his hand over the young witch. A white glow from his palm scanned over her forehead, turning red as he finished.

“She has been cursed,” concluded the wizard.