Phantasmagoria - Chapter 3
“But my question is, why can’t anyone else but Kelloran see them?” Thomas asked.
Before the other three can answer, the wiry alchemist jumped to his feet and ran toward the door of his orderly shop. Stone, Kelloran and Chells all shrugged their shoulders collectively (well, as well as Chells could shrug any part of his body). Thomas returned a few moments later with his arms full of all kinds of components and apparatus from his building, nearly out of breath. That too surprised the remaining companions!
“Let’s see.” Thomas says to no one in particular, “If fairy balm allows you to see fairies, there must be some alternative formula that we can concoct to see Angels—right??”
He looked toward his friends for their approval, but there bewildered expressions only irked the alchemist on.
“Well—what do you think? I imagine devils food cake and deviled eggs would work the other way—but we can already see most demons. What would it take to see Angels? “
Thomas seemed lost in thought for a few moments before he exclaimed, “A feather? Would that help you see Angels? Maybe if Kelloran helped? Wait-I think we need some of Kelloran's essence!”
“Uhh..I don’t think so Thomas”, the restorer said plainly.
“No you dolt—I mean something of yours, the more personal the better. Like a piece of your hair—no matter the color at the time—or some spit or even your blood.”
“Now wait a minute. How much of my “essence” are you going to use?”
“Yeah”, Stone added, “Good thing we’re not talking about Chells here. He’s got no essence.”
Chells smiled that “ha-ha-very-funny-brother” smile that has so much more meaning that words can express. After being with these good friends for so many years, the significance of such a look was not lost on Thomas and Kelloran. They too understood it.
“Alright Kelloran,” the alchemist asked, “Let me have a few strands of hair. I’ll bet I can prepare something beneficial for the rest of us to see your heavenly spirits.”
With significant ticks of his long slender fingers, Thomas counted off the ingredients and poured them into his marble mortar: “Bee’s wax sans honey” “Powdered White Fey stick” “Hydrogenated Vegetable Oil” “Sliver of a black—no, no—green mushroom” “Essence of Kelloran”
Thomas grabbed hold of the pestle and fiercely combined the ingredients until they were a sticky, putrid colored mash. He stopped the mixing and looking toward his shop, muttered a few magical words that the other three immediately forgot.
Before their eyes the mixture shifted and swirled as if by unseen hands. The alchemist smiled at his friends surprised reactions as they had never really seen his magic up close. When the invocation was complete, Thomas lifted the small basin and poured it contents into three small glass vials he produced from one of the many pouches he wore. The amber liquid seemed to glow as he placed the stoppers on each of the alchemical containers.
Stone remarked as he eyed the concoction, “Well, at least it’s not like Fairy Balm that we have to wear!”
“I’ll try it first.” Thomas declared as he uncorked the bottle and lifted it to his lips.