Alchemist Zelroth of the Pit

What was an alchemist to do?

There was fire everywhere. Alfred, Zelroth's assistant, had left the kettle burning for too long, and the pages of Zelroth's books caught fire. It was only a matter of time that the whole library of highly flammable material would be up in flames.

There was chaos everywhere. Screaming, running, crying... only Zelroth stood still in the centre of all it all, watching his precious books go up in flames.

He'd have to deal with Alfred later, that was for sure. Perhaps he didn't need his tea to be brewed in the library. Perhaps he should get a kitchen, one that was in a separate room, but not too far from the library... perhaps...

"Oh my God! Help us!!! My child is still in her bedroom, and the door wouldn't open! HELPPP!!!"

Zelroth sighed.

He could think about the design of his kitchen later.

With a quick flick of his finger, he drew a spell in the air, and muttered an ancient language. The secret language of alchemy, since the dawn of mankind. A language that only a handful of living souls still knew. And a language that Zelroth somehow already knew, from the moment he was born, without anyone having to teach him.

He picked up some ashes from beneath his shoes, and threw it into the centre of the spell, and suddenly, everything stood still.

Then slowly, things started to move, as if someone had recorded the whole scene, and was now rewinding the recording.

Flames grew smaller. Ashes became pages, which became books. Shelves that were broken on the floor, joined back together again and picked themselves up, as if invisible strings were pulling them back to their rightful place against the walls of the library.

And in a matter of minutes, (or reverse minutes?) everything was back to how it was before the fire from the kettle's burner caught the pages of a book near it.

Zelroth breathed out.

It was the second time he's used alchemy to turn back time. Nobody thought that was possible. His alchemy masters and teachers ridiculed him, and casted him aside, thinking he was crazy.

And in a way, he was glad no one knew about this. If they did, his world would become a lot more noisy. Where would be find the time to enjoy some tea in his library?

So he had to keep this a secret. One that he would bring with him to his grave.

Now, back to looking for Alfred. He had some ideas for how he'd like his kitchen to look.

Entered by: 0xeB52…ff93 and preserved on chain (see transaction)