He's Supposed to Be Dead: Alchemy 101

It was the first day of the Fall semester at Oakfield Community College. It was a respectable little school, as far as community colleges went. It had a high transfer rate and a high graduation rate, they beat the nearby University in a friendly basketball match, much to the Dean's pride, and it was unique in that it combined the magical arts and sciences with normative arts and sciences. Four year universities frequently hosted them both, but community colleges typically lacked the funding. Not Oakfield. That wasn't to say it was perfect, it wasn't, by any stretch of the imagination, but really it was one of the institutions which proved receiving a degree from a two-year institution was just as valid as immediately embarking on a four-year academic journey.

Daizi "Tarot" Wahid, however, was not beginning her foray into academia, nor was she elegantly finishing her associates degree. She was a fully grown, fully-actualized woman, with a PhD in Anthropology and Folklore, and a Masters in Fortune Telling and Witchcraft. It sounded extreme, but she was a dark elf, and as anyone would tell you, elves lived twice as long as the next longest-living race, so she was far from being short on time. Were she human, she would be about the age of thirty five, which made her, well... She had made many rotations around the sun, to put it mildly. But Tarot was not taking the Intro class on Alchemy and Potions because she was interested in beginning a new degree, she wasn't even taking it for credit. She had decided to audit it partially because she wanted a refresher on basic alchemy--despite having a masters in witchcraft, potion-making was never something she put particular emphasis into--but mostly because her work began a new program where they gave employees a bonus for updating their education, even if they weren't taking it for credit. Tarot and her husband, who, incidentally, worked at the college, were far from the poverty line, and couldn't say they "needed" a bonus, but considering Tarot enjoyed academia, and, well, a little extra cash wouldn't hurt.

She was the first one to arrive in the classroom. The tables were arranged in a general circle shape, because the instructor, who wasn't currently in the room, was passionate about student interactions. Tarot sat down close to the door, and set her large black bag covered in silver occult iconography down beside her, and set her laptop up on the tabletop and waited for the class to begin.

When the other students came in, her eyes were closed behind her round purple sunglasses, and her hands were resting on her unexpectedly round middle, considering how slender her arms were, and how defined her collarbones were. Among the students who entered was a wood elf. She was much younger than Tarot, and walked in with wide, sea coloured doe eyes. Her red curly hair hung loosely around her shoulders, and she carried a small music case in addition to her school bag. Unlike the other elven woman, Rose McGann was taking the class for credit. She was a second year music major, and was taking potions to fulfill her "magical science" gen-ed requirement. Magic was never really her forte, she left it more to her younger sister Calla, who adored it. Nonetheless, she was excited, and when she entered the room, for a few moments it felt like spring. She smiled at the other classmates as she entered, and sat down in a chair close to the window.

She dressed as though she had invented the cottage-core aesthetic, and considering she was elven, she may well have. Were she human, she'd only be nineteen, but again, she was much older than that, and it could be seen in her eyes... but not in her smile, nor in any other aspect of her. Set set out a notebook on the desk, and leaned back in her chair, and waited for the class to begin.
 
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