Red Alchemy Solution
Description
Red Alchemy Solution is a thick, crimson liquid with a striking resemblance to fresh blood. When its seal is broken, the mixture releases a dense cloud of deep red smoke that clings to the air and fills the nose with the sharp scent of iron. The smoke spreads quickly, hiding movement and overwhelming the senses—especially smell—making it ideal for those who need to vanish in a hurry.
After a few moments, the smoke fades and leaves behind small, blood-colored crystals that form wherever the mist touched. Though not particularly valuable, these curious remnants are sometimes collected by apprentices or novice jewelcrafters looking to craft unusual trinkets or experiment with alchemically reactive materials.
While useful, Red Alchemy Solution is notoriously unstable. Even a slight mishandling can cause it to erupt unexpectedly, often filling a room with smoke and staining whatever lies too close. Many alchemists keep it sealed and clearly labeled—not out of respect, but out of experience.
Lore
No true record exists of the Red Alchemy Solution's first creation, and most alchemists agree that it likely predates any formal school or order. What is known is this: nearly every alchemist who has ever sought to create life from base materials begins with some variation of this potion.
Its blood-like hue and volatile reaction are not happenstance, but a reflection of its purpose. Within the quiet corners of dusty laboratories and behind closed academy doors, the Red Alchemy Solution is often whispered about as the “first breath”—an alchemical spark meant to mimic the vital essence of life. Many believe that the solution is a failed heartblood, the closest imitation of life's spark that mortal hands have yet managed.
Of all the tales surrounding this mysterious elixir, none are told with more fascination—or dread—than that of Nelmire, an apprentice of exceptional promise and even greater ambition. It is said she believed the solution held the key not only to creating life, but to unlocking something far older, something within the blood that remembered its origin. Over the course of several years, Nelmire refined and consumed small quantities of the potion, tracking the changes in her body and mind with obsessive precision. Her journals, discovered decades later, speak of voices in the mist, dreams of crimson oceans, and strange vitality that no one could explain.
One day, her master returned from an extended expedition to find the laboratory sealed. There was no answer to his calls, no sign of forced entry. When the door was finally broken down, he found a blackened shadow cast across the far wall. It was the unmistakable silhouette of Nelmire, her hands raised as if in wonder. From beneath the stone floor, a slow, rhythmic thrum pulsed faintly, like the beating of a buried heart.
Though the truth of her fate is unknown, her story is now recited in hushed tones to students preparing their first batch of Red Alchemy Solution. Not as a warning, but as a reminder: some doors, once opened, do not close so easily.