Chapter 29: A Patron's Gratitude
It wasn't until the next morning that Solim had a moment to properly examine the gifts Gilves had sent. The previous night—or rather, early that morning, as it had been nearly two o'clock—Elrond had finally ceased his frantic theorizing. If not for Solim and Sylna visibly wilting with exhaustion, their grandfather would likely have continued until dawn.
Eagerly, Solim opened the ornately carved box that held his rewards.
Inside lay five pieces of wood. One was a thick, substantial length of Snakewood, of a quality perfect for crafting a staff. The value of such a piece was staggering; with it, one could likely hire a formidable wizard to challenge Voldemort himself.
Next to it was a wand-length piece of Ghostwood, also of the highest caliber.
Then there was a Magic Crystal, a treasure that would make a Master Alchemist salivate. Such crystals formed naturally over centuries within the bodies of certain magical creatures. Whether used in a potion or set into alchemical jewelry, its presence elevated the final product to an entirely new level of power.
Solim barely glanced at the other, more conventional potion ingredients, his attention captured by a second, smaller box lined with velvet. Nestled within were five phials of varying sizes.
The smallest bottle contained a colourless liquid. When Solim read the label, he drew a sharp, involuntary breath.
Phoenix Tears.
It was… it was unimaginably extravagant. He had never dreamed Gilves would part with something so profound. Phoenix Tears were, for all intents and purposes, a second life! Any poison, any physical injury, could be cured if treated with the tears in time. One might think them commonplace, seeing Dumbledore and Fawkes, but how many wizards could claim a phoenix as a companion? And even if Fawkes wept non-stop for twenty-four hours, the yield would be minuscule. Could one even fill a small vial?
Their value was incalculable; great wizarding families would go to war for a single drop. Solim was aware that even Dumbledore's phoenix was required to provide a yearly tithe to the Council of Elders. Why else would the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, a man of such influence, often seem financially constrained? The Order's funds were notoriously tight, leading to rumours that Dumbledore occasionally diverted Hogwarts resources—a practice that would have seen anyone else facing severe consequences in a more rigorously governed society.
With a shudder of reverence, Solim carefully set the smallest phial aside. This was not merely a reward; it was a lifeline to be guarded with utmost care.
The second vessel was a small conical flask containing a viscous, golden liquid. Solim recognized it instantly: the Elixir of Life. One would never find this for sale on any market. The cost of the ingredients alone was astronomical, and many were Class-A or even Class-X prohibited substances, with possession carrying a sentence of life imprisonment in Azkaban. The recipe itself was a closely guarded secret of the Potioneers' Guild.
But the true barrier was the brewing process itself. Configuring the Elixir took a minimum of six months, during which the brewer could not leave the cauldron's side. Every step, every ingredient addition, was time-sensitive. One had to eat, sleep, and live in the same room, ready to act at a moment's notice. The mental and physical toll was immense, a torturous marathon of vigilance. Many a Potioneer had been driven to the brink of madness by the process.
To earn the title of Potions Master from the Guild, one's final trial was to successfully brew this very Elixir. And every successfully brewed Elixir was claimed by the Guild as a testament to the new Master's skill. As one of the three current deputy heads of the Guild, Gilves's ability to possess a full phial spoke volumes about his status and the depth of his gratitude.
The third bottle was larger but appeared empty. Solim's heart leapt as he examined it, his eyes darting to the label.
"Just as I thought… the Elixir of Nothingness!" he whispered, excitement coursing through him.
True to its name, the Elixir of Nothingness was virtually undetectable—less a liquid and more a captured gas, colourless and odourless. Its effect was singular: it allowed the user to assume a gaseous form for a limited time. In this state, they were immune to nearly all spells, including the Summoning Charm. It was not consumed by drinking, but by inhalation, filling the lungs to trigger the transformation.
Solim set it down gently and turned to the fourth phial.
This one swirled with a rainbow of colours. Solim knew of only one such potion: the Universal Antidote, often derided by those who understood its cost as the "Elixir of Needless Extravagance."
It was, as the name suggested, a cure-all. It could neutralize all known toxins, restore magical power, and heal grievous injuries. Even a simple cold would succumb to it. If something was wrong, a dose of the Universal Antidote would fix it. Its versatility, however, was its curse. Why use this priceless concoction for a poison when a specific antidote would suffice? Why use it to restore magic when other, cheaper potions existed? Its primary ingredient was Phoenix Tears, making its cost so prohibitive that it was considered frivolous. Yet, when the exact malady was unknown, its value was beyond measure.
Finally, Solim lifted the largest bottle. A dark green liquid swirled within, shot through with shifting, brilliant highlights.
"This colour, this luminescence… it can't be…" he muttered, studying the label with intense focus.
"Potion of Magical Enhancement!" he breathed the name in sheer disbelief.
Solim was no novice; he understood high-level potion lore. This potion permanently enhanced the drinker's magical core, significantly accelerating their rate of magical growth and their affinity for magic itself. Unlike the dangerous and unpredictable magical transformations Voldemort had undergone, the Potion of Magical Enhancement improved a wizard holistically, with no side effects. He had read of its legendary effects, but the recipe was considered lost to time.
He carefully placed the potion back in the box, his mind racing. He needed to fetch his grandfather immediately—not only to confirm its authenticity but to discuss its fate. Should it go to Sylna, virtually guaranteeing she would awaken as a witch? Or should he take it himself, potentially granting him the power of a full-grown wizard by his third or fourth year at Hogwarts? It was a choice between securing his sister's future or dramatically accelerating his own path to strength.
As he contemplated, the sheer thoughtfulness of Gilves's gifts struck him. Phoenix Tears and the Universal Antidote were shields against the poisons his enemies might use at Hogwarts. The Elixir of Nothingness and the Elixir of Life were tools for escape and survival should he be ambushed after leaving school. And the Potion of Magical Enhancement was the key to building the power he would need to face his foes directly. Every single item was chosen with his precarious situation in mind.