Three days after the earlier assessment, the tiered stone bleachers of the Alchemy Amphitheater smelled of sulfur, dried pine resin, and charcoal ash. Barnaby had kept Mina supplied with her warming medicine while Kaelen rested between tests.
Four hundred disciples sat elbow to elbow on the curved granite benches, murmuring in eager anticipation. Up on the high tribunal platform, Elder Sterling sat behind a black slate desk, his fingers tapping an impatient rhythm against his iron abacus.
Down in the central arena, Lucan Morvane stood beside a masterpiece of metallurgical art.
It was the Sun-Flame Crucible, a Tier 4 crimson bronze cauldron nearly five feet tall. Four sculpted dragons coiled around its belly, their open jaws serving as draft vents. Beneath the bronze legs, three junior deacons were carefully arranging sticks of rare scarlet spirit charcoal.
Lucan smoothed the embroidered lapels of his lavender robes. He bowed toward the tribunal platform, projecting his voice with confident resonance.
“Honored Elder Sterling, fellow disciples,” Lucan declared, his chin tilted high. “The Morvane Pill House upholds the ancient standards of our academy. Today, I shall demonstrate the orthodox three-stage jade extraction, refining a Tier 3 Jade-Marrow Pill to silence all uncertified pretenders.”
A ripple of polite applause ran through the stands. Several senior students nodded in approval, admiring the smooth hum of heat radiating from the bronze dragons.
