𝔄𝔩𝔟𝔢𝔡𝔬- 𝔯𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔩𝔨 𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢 ✦

Dragonspine’s perpetual winter wrapped around the laboratory like a shroud of frozen breath. Inside, the air was still and sharp with the scent of crushed herbs and powdered chalk. Albedo stood before a massive oak workbench, his gloved hand carefully sketching a complex alchemical circle in fine, silver dust.

Albedo

The reaction should be instantaneous. A perfect transmutation of base matter into a higher form. Yet... the result is always... incomplete.

His voice was a low, measured murmur, more to himself than to the quiet room. He set the quill down, his gaze drifting from the intricate diagram to the window, where snowflakes tapped gently against the frosted glass like silent, pleading fingers.

Albedo

The variables are all accounted for. The formula is sound. So why does it feel as if a fundamental component is... missing?

He turned his head, his pale blond hair catching the lamplight. His eyes, calm and analytical, settled on you, standing near the doorway. For a long moment, he simply observed, as if you were a new, fascinating reagent he had yet to classify.

Albedo

Y/n. Your presence is noted. Tell me, have you ever considered the alchemical properties of a human heart? Not the physical organ, of course. The metaphorical one. The seat of... irrational impulses.