A week later, Leon held up a simple glass cup, its surface slightly uneven but intact. "Master, look—no explosions."
Im cast Stress Sensing, the blue glow dim and uniform. "Well done. Most stress is gone—this is functional."
It wasn't Leon's first attempt. Earlier cups had residual stress, prone to cracking if knocked, but after refining his annealing process (and enlisting Dahlia and Flower to recharge the mana crystal), he'd finally succeeded. The high-temperature furnace wasn't ideal for annealing—he had to let it cool naturally, wasting hours—but it worked.
Dahlia and Flower had joined in initially, hoping to co-author a paper, but Im dashed their hopes. "Glassmaking has existed for centuries—you're just improving the annealing process for larger sheets. No new discovery, no paper." Their enthusiasm faded, and they abandoned the tedious work—their mana reserves were smaller than Leon's, making it hard to maintain Mage Hand for long.
Leon, however, persisted. He experimented with shapes, using his tentacles to mold the glass directly—no molds needed. His latest trick: memorizing tentacle shapes, letting him switch between a flat sheet mold and a cup mold with a thought. "It's like having a floppy hard drive—only enough space for one mold at a time," he joked to himself.
"Master, how's the Purification Circle coming?" Leon asked, handing Im the cup. It was plain—thick bottom, smooth rim, no decorations—but functional.
"Nearly done," Im said, setting the cup down. "It'll purify water, toxins, even odors—more versatile than traditional circles. I've also created a minor purification spell, but it needs charcoal as a catalyst."
Most complete spells didn't require catalysts, just incantations and gestures. Catalysts were for unrefined magic or spells designed for novices. "Can you teach it to me?" Leon asked—he'd earned a co-author credit on the charcoal paper, after all.
Im shook his head. "Wait until you're a full mage. It's a formal spell, and your mana pool is still too small." He frowned slightly. "You're talented at crafting, but don't neglect magic. For mages, mana and spells are foundational."
Leon nodded, though he knew Im's concern was unfounded. He balanced glasswork with meditation and spell practice, his mana growing steadily—closing the gap with Dahlia and Flower. "I understand. I'm off to make a gift for Dahlia and Flower—compensation for helping with the crystal."
Im sighed, watching him go. "You'll be an alchemist before you're a battle mage," he muttered, but there was no bite to it—he was proud of Leon's ingenuity.
In the workshop, Leon set to work on a glass rabbit figurine. To add color, he crushed small bits of iron oxide (rust) and basic copper carbonate (verdigris)—hoping for a yellow head and green body. He melted the mixture into the glass, shaping it with his tentacles.
The annealing process took hours, but when he pulled the rabbit out, he winced. The colors hadn't mixed evenly—yellow and green swirled across its plump body, like a tie-dyed mutation. The shape was recognizable as a rabbit, but its proportions were off—too round, ears lopsided.
"It's… unique," Leon said, grinning. Dahlia loved quirky things—she'd probably appreciate the chaotic color scheme. He wrapped the rabbit in soft linen, already planning to explain the "intentional" design.
As he walked to find Dahlia and Flower, Leon passed the herb garden, where Moonlight Grass swayed gently in the breeze. He thought of Eldrin's journal, of the rare warm-climate herbs he'd dreamed of growing. With functional glass, a greenhouse was one step closer.
Im's Purification Circle would revolutionize their potion-making, and his glasswork would open new possibilities—storage jars, lenses, even window panes for Moonlight Cottage. For the first time, Leon felt like he was building something lasting, blending Earth's knowledge with Etho's magic.
Dahlia's shriek of laughter echoed as she saw the rabbit. "It looks like it fought a paint bucket!" she said, grabbing it. "I love it—way better than a boring cup."
Flower snorted. "It's ugly. But better than exam sheets."
Leon smiled, relieved. The rabbit wasn't perfect, but it was his—proof that failure, patience, and a little chaos could lead to something wonderful. As the sun set over Linden Pine Valley, he felt a quiet confidence. His journey as a mage and inventor was just beginning, and he couldn't wait to see what he'd create next.