The Prophecy (The Goddess Game Book 1)

Chapter 1

Potions can be finicky little things. It doesn't matter if it's a love potion or a healing potion, they all require precision. The right ingredients in the right quantities at the right time. If even one element is off, it can blow up in a mage's face. Literally.

Crafting potions was a thrill for Amelia. There was just enough danger to make it exciting and when she got a potion right or perfected one she'd been working on for months? Well, it was downright exhilarating.

Sitting on a rather uncomfortable metal stool in her clinic's lab, Amelia was working on one such potion—one that had illuded her for nearly half a year now. The clinic was quiet today so Amelia decided to use the opportunity to sneak off to the lab and work on her project. The lab, despite its excess of dust, was her favorite place in the clinic, possibly in all of Indale. Working here made her feel like an official apothecarist. For a moment, staring into the bubbling depths of a cauldron, she could pretend that she had followed a different path and that this was her life. Experimenting with ingredients, quantities, and times to create exciting, fun, and even helpful potions.

Amelia examined the contents of the small cauldron. The light purple liquid had been bubbling for 10 minutes now, but it needed to be darker if it was going to have the strength to do what Amelia needed. The light bursting of the bubbles filled the air as she looked beside the cauldron and examined her notes. There were scribbles and drawings and many, many crossed-out attempts. No matter how long she stared, it would give her no clues as to how she should move forward.

Sighing, she looked back at the black cauldron, willing it to tell her the secrets of this potion. The answer was simple, it had to be, she just needed to focus harder and it would jump out at her. So she looked and she focused...and focused...and focused. And as she focused, the dusty lab became a blur beyond the cauldron, the smell of age and disuse was taken over by the earth and berry aroma of the potion, and the only sound that existed in the world was the soothing plop plop of a bubbling concoction—the sound a song telling her what she needed to do.

"Holy basil!" Amelia's eyes went wide before becoming unfocused as her mind rushed through the sequence of steps she needed to take to make this work. Her heart raced almost as fast. Ten large leaves ought to be enough; she didn't have that much holy basil on hand, but that had never been a problem for her.

Snatching up a cup of water, she rushed over to a table that had been wiped clean and was now lined with as many herbs as she could carry in her bag. She mumbled the names of the herbs and flowers as she searched for the one she needed. "Chamomile, no. Echinacea, no. Feverfew, garlic, ginseng. Ahh! Where is it?" Finally, heart and mind still whirling, she found it, "There you are! Sneaky little thing." The little plant only had three good leaves on it, definitely not enough. She flipped on the grow light and using one hand, she began pouring a slow stream of water on the base of the plant, she closed her eyes and held her other hand over the jagged leaves.

Amelia took a deep breath and tried her best to focus. In her mind's eye, she could see the plant's roots drinking up the water. No, it wasn't drinking...it was gulping. If it continued its frenzied feeding, it would drown. Calm, Amelia willed her mind and her magic. Slow down. As if the plant took a deep breath alongside her, it slowed its intake of water and instead of drowning, Amelia felt the roots become larger, stronger. Her upper arm began to tingle as the magic worked its way through her body and into the plant. She saw the water make its way up the stem of the plant as it grew taller and taller. The tingling made its way down her arm, settling into the palm of her hand. This sensation always felt strange to her at first, but she kept going. She saw the beginnings of leaves take shape, bright and crisp buds. Warmth mixed with the tingly sensation. Amelia took a deep, slow breath, letting all of her anxieties and frustrations flow out on her exhale. Slowly, so slowly, the leaves grew and grew until they no longer looked like babies, but were instead big, jagged holy basil leaves, ready for picking.