God's Tree

Chapter 13 Alchemy & cooking

Argolaith sat in the dimly lit corner of his cabin, the only light coming from the flickering flame form the candle and the soft glow of magical herbs scattered across his table. He had spent the better part of the day immersed in study.

Pouring over the books he had plundered from Athos's hidden lab. His fingers, still stained with the remnants of the herbs he had worked with earlier, flipped through the pages with an insatiable hunger for knowledge.

Morgoth was full of mysteries that he had only begun to scratch the surface of, and each new discovery about the magical plants he had been carelessly consuming filled him with both awe and a twinge of fear.

The weight of his past mistakes was heavy on his shoulders. Had he not been lucky—had he consumed the wrong combination of plants—he could have found himself turned into ice or consumed by fire, his body irreversibly altered or worse. The realization was chilling, and Argolaith felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

"Lucky doesn't even begin to describe it," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

He paused in his reading, feeling a surge of gratitude for his narrow escape.

"I need to learn more about these plants. If I'm going to keep eating them and using their properties to get stronger, I need to understand them completely."

His resolve was solidifying with each passing minute, and as the hours dragged on, he could feel his stomach growling, a reminder that even the most focused of minds needed sustenance.

Closing the book, Argolaith set it aside. A brief break was in order. He had worked up an appetite, and there were ingredients in his storage ring that could help him create something both nourishing and potent.

After all, nourishment was key—not just for his body but for his continued growth and power.

Argolaith wandered over to the storage ring, his fingers brushing over its smooth surface before it opened to reveal a world of magical ingredients.

His eyes scanned the collection—strange roots, herbs, and jars of unfamiliar liquids. He reached in and carefully selected a few items that had piqued his interest earlier.

The first was a soft, glowing root that emitted a pale green light, Luminara Root.

He had read about it in the book: known for its rejuvenating properties, this plant was revered by alchemists for its ability to restore vitality and heal physical ailments.

The second ingredient was Moonwater, collected during the full moon's light.

This water carried the moon's mystical energy and had a profound effect when combined with other magical elements.

Argolaith had read about its many uses, and he had wanted to try it out for himself.

He ran his hands over the various ingredients thoughtfully. The Luminara Root and Moonwater were perfect for a base.

But he needed something to give the soup depth, something with a touch of sweetness and spice.

With the soup cooking steadily, Argolaith knew he couldn't simply sit around waiting. He had to stay disciplined, even during his moments of rest.

Stretching his arms above his head, he glanced around the cabin, taking in the cluttered shelves of alchemical books and the carefully organized magical plants.

The herbs were growing slowly, and some of them were beginning to show the signs of success. Soon, he would have an even greater variety of ingredients at his disposal, but for now, the soup would have to suffice.

"I can't afford to let myself grow lazy," he said, shaking his head. "I'll use this time wisely."

Without hesitation, Argolaith dropped to the floor and began doing sit-ups. His body was already accustomed to the rigorous demands of physical training, and he pushed through each rep, focusing on the rhythm of his breathing and the burn in his core.

Three hundred sit-ups later, he transitioned into pull-ups, his arms trembling with effort as he lifted himself from the ground. Each movement was a test of willpower.

A reminder that strength was not just about muscle but about discipline and perseverance.

By the time he finished, his body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, but he felt invigorated. He wiped his brow and stood up, stretching out his arms and legs as the faint aroma of the soup teased his senses.

"The soup was finally ready."

Argolaith ladled the steaming concoction into a bowl, its golden hue shimmering in the firelight. The rich scent of the troll meat, the sweetness of the honey, and the underlying warmth of the ginger filled the air.

He sat down at his table, his mind focused entirely on the meal in front of him.

The first spoonful was heaven. The broth was rich and flavorful, with just the right amount of heat from the ginger.

The troll meat was tender, almost falling apart in his mouth, and the Luminara Root added a subtle glow to the soup, a hint of magic that made it more than just a meal—it was a potion in itself.

As Argolaith ate, he felt a warmth spreading through his body, not just from the heat of the food but from the rejuvenating properties of the ingredients.

His muscles, which had been sore from the day's work, seemed to relax, and he felt his energy begin to return.

The Moonwater was working its magic, and Argolaith could feel the stirrings of vitality flowing through his veins.

He finished the bowl quickly, hungry from his day of study and training, but also deeply satisfied.

The soup had nourished him on every level, both physically and mentally. When the bowl was empty, he washed it and cleaned his utensils, feeling the weight of the day's work settle onto his shoulders.

After a long, productive day, Argolaith retired to his bed. His mind was still buzzing with thoughts of magical plants and alchemical properties, but the warmth of the meal and the exhaustion from his physical exertion made sleep come easily.

"Tomorrow," he thought as he drifted off, "I'll study more, learn more, grow stronger."