Apothecary Diaries Light Novel English Novels & Stories

Antalya's POV The morning light filtered through Dominic's room as I frantically searched through his belongings. My fingers traced over strange vials filled with clear liquid, and beside them, records with dates and symptoms meticulously documented. "What are these?" I whispered, picking up one of the vials. "Some kind of medicine? Or something worse?" The records were even more intriguing – notes about pain during rainfall, weakness at specific times, healing patterns that didn't match normal werewolf physiology. I was just opening one of the older journals when footsteps echoed in the hallway.

Chapter#23: Diaries are important [Jacob Seo's P.O.V.] ꧁❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎❄︎꧂

Even in the dark, I can tell a little embroidery and a fuller sleeve would work miracles for it, but now isn’t really the time to complain. After, she leads me down to the apothecary. “These books are ledgers. They record every death in the palace, royal and otherwise, as well as anything else important.” “Of course they do.” The books cover most of a wall, and each of them is thicker than one of my arms. “Let me know if you need anything else.” Joli leaves. I light a lantern and pull the first massive ledger onto a small worktable.

"The master ledger should be in the drawer." While he went to the desk, I approached the locked wooden cabinet on the wall. The door was made of dark, heavy plum wood, carved with the seal of the imperial apothecary. I used the brass keys to open it. Inside, the shelves were lined with small, blue-and-white porcelain jars. I began reading the labels. Red nightshade. Black locust. Death-cap extract. Then, my hand stopped on a small, unpainted grey clay jar. The label on it read: Gray Wolfsbane.

​Bettoni offered her a very small and genuinely sweet smile. ​Angelika let out a furious shriek. She stormed into the medical bay and slammed the door behind her. ​Bettoni felt a tiny spark of real victory warm her chest. She turned and walked toward the royal library. She needed to study. She needed more weapons to survive this royal war. ​The library was completely deserted. The spacious room was filled with numerous old documents and wiped books. Bettoni pulled a heavy green book titled Toxic Flora of the Northern Borders off the highest shelf. She sat at a dark oak table and opened the thick pages.

A book lay open, its pages made of thin sheets of copper. "These are stolen," she hissed, her finger hovering over a line of text. "This is High Elven. This is a treatise on star-navigation. They stole it when they burned the Silver Spires." "They steal everything," Tristan said, moving deeper into the room. "Keep moving. We’re looking for 'Project Apotheosis' or 'The God-Shell'. Look for the Emperor’s seal." They split up, moving down opposite sides of the narrow aisle. Saoirse scanned the spines. The Anatomy of Angels. Void Theory. The Ethics of Soul Fragmentation.

—VALORIA, AETHERIA— The early morning light filtered through the herb-lined windows of Lucas and Sera's apothecary, casting a soft golden glow across the workbench where Madeleine carefully sorted dried lavender. Her movements were deliberate and confident. It was a far cry from the wary girl who had first arrived six months ago. "Pass the chamomile," Sera called from across the room, where she was preparing morning potions and elixirs. "And check those rose hips. I think they're starting to go moldy on the bottom of the basket."

She said that she had prepared a special chain for Rafe with enormous power. "I know you can break ordinary chains, Rafe, but the material I use is very strong," Aline added. "Ah... I think 'that person' is also impatient," Aline said again with a smiling smile. "Aline, who do you mean?" I asked again, because I really didn't understand Aline's sentence. "He is the man who know you," Aline said and showed her palm where the Grimoire magically appeared. A Grimoire that Rafe had bought at an auction in Singapore.

28 Sienna. There’s a rhythm to the apothecary I like best in the early hours. There were no customers, no clinking of bottles or awkward small talk. Nothing but the creak of floorboards and the quiet pulse of herbs straining through cheesecloth. Peace. Until recently, that peace had been dependable and predictable. Now it’s cracked.

He grabbed all the diaries and threw them at my feet. Suddenly, all the diaries started flying around me. They were circling around me. My eyes went wide as the diaries started burning. In no time, all the diaries were turned into ashes. There was a spark of blue light literally standing in front of me. I gasped loudly as that spark threw itself on me. I was expecting unbearable pain. But inside, my body absorbed that spark.