In his sanctum, the alchemist carefully poured the glowing, boiling contents of the cauldron into a copper vessel.
As the liquid cooled, it would transform into a potion of wondrous healing. As he waited the alchemist reflected on his mighty accomplishment. He had once again walked that fine line between reason and faith, magic and science. He’d mastered the elements, and bent them to his will. He was satisfied.
Three months later, the adventurer thumbed the stopper and drank the potion in a single gulp, trying not to gag. She wondered bitterly why those guys couldn’t make them taste better.

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