The Alchemist Book Nicholas Flamel นิยาย & เรื่องราว

They looked at each other for a moment, then looked back at me. “Over there is the lair of the alchemists.” Thumps. Thump. Thump. "What? How can it be? The alchemist's prison is in the north of Echtar City, on a small isolated island.” "I don't know where that is, But clearly, many alchemists were crowding the temple. And because of them, our house in the fairy forest was destroyed.” "Wait. Tell me more details after I get dress. -Splash-"

Ordinary alchemists simply wouldn’t be able to reach that level. The Fairy Doctor had once seen it in an ancient miscellaneous book, but she had taken it as a travel log and didn’t pay much attention to the book’s content. There were mentions of elixir talismans among the content, and it was a pity she had not taken it seriously. Until Alex had said those two words, she suddenly understood that the contents in the book had not been an exaggeration and that it really did exist. It was also a world that she had been pursuing for a long time.

Chapter 2- Philtre, The Alchemist The woman whipped up a flame of torch and led her through the dank inner passages of the palace which seemed to have been forgotten by time but soon revealed the chamber of a man working on beetles at the corner of the room. The room was almost dark but for the light of a slight lamp whose weak light revealed a man with a beard busy, busy, busy in his room full of flasks and single open flames, not unlike a laboratory of sorts. There was also a panel of books by a wall.

Professor Durant started to laugh. "It's the book!" he said between laughter, "Al Khami's books are the first-ever written records about alchemy, he is known as the father of alchemy, and was the first archmage who tried to explain magic through scientific methods," [Because of this he was branded as a blasphemer and his books were burned!] wrote Seb after regaining his composure. [He himself was cursed to write in a stone slab with the blood from his fingers until his limbs were worn off, but even after he lost both arms, he used his mouth to pen his last book which was a compilation of all his discoveries and teachings.]

He ended up taking one whose cover had caught his attention, purple velvet, which seemed to be Ruvyn's favourite colour. He laid down on the bed again and opened the book, it was about the most famous wizards who lived, those who made history. Like Nostradamus who used to make predictions or Rasputin who was a famous healing wizard, who used his sorcery to treat the Tsar and his wife, many times, without forgetting Nicolas Flamel who was the alchemist to succeed, in creating the philosophers stone, and the elixir of life in the 17th century. All those strange people he read about in his fantasy books like Harry Potter existed also in their world and they were somehow related to his new frien

Seren stood at the rim of the well, arms folded, watching in silence as the tainted water rippled like a corpse’s memory. Mourne descended with a squad of witches and a half‐mad alchemist rumoured to be a remnant of Elara’s court. Torches in hand, they navigated damp tunnels reeking of mould and old sorrow. Soon they found the ritual site: a glyph burned into rock, a sunstone bowl stained with gold‐root and black water. Scattered about were footprints in fine eastern sand, diplomat’s boots. And the alchemist’s satchel lay open, blossoms crushed beneath his cloak: Sleepthistle, Charmflower, Nightblight. A lullaby that killed children slowly, unless the toxin was triggered to awaken its full b

he asked, his voice already laced with suspicion. I exhaled, slow. My tongue felt too large in my mouth. “Page 117,” I said. He stilled. I didn’t need to explain further. He knew what I meant. Callum Thorne had a quiet obsession with the advanced alchemical theory texts Professor Zelda kept locked behind his desk cabinet—specifically, the first edition copy of Astrum’s Theory of Etheric Bloom Convergence, a book so dense it made most of the upperclassmen groan, and so rare that even the library kept only a facsimile. He’d spent months trying to get a full look at the annotations in the original margin notes—especially the ones on page 117, which were rumored to contradict modern interpretati

“But that door is not locked against her. Because he never would have for her.” Enzo crossed his arms. “She went straight to the chest.” He observed calmly. “No hesitation. It seems she knows where to immediately head once she went in the room.” “Because she knew exactly what was inside.” Dominic said. “And she left the parchment along with the chess piece.” Althea added quietly. “She wanted you to find it. But why did she choose a knight? Purely coincidence?” Dominic did not respond. At that moment, the security room door opened and Nicholas slipped inside, his dinosaur book tucked under his arm, his expression bright and unaware.

CAMILA Alchemy was unforgiving. Unlike theory or history, it did not care about intent or effort. It demanded obedience—exact measures, perfect timing, steady hands. Any deviation was punished without mercy. I arrived early, as I always did, choosing a seat near the back of the room where the shadows felt safer. The stone tables were cold beneath my palms, etched with runes that pulsed faintly, alive with dormant magic. The air smelled sharp and bitter, layered with crushed herbs and volatile minerals. Glass vials glimmered on the shelves, some glowing faintly, others swirling with unnatural motion. I forced myself to breathe slowly. I had studied this lesson carefully. I could do this.

"Drink." "What is it?" "Temporary suppressor. It'll keep Scarlett quiet for a few hours while we figure out a permanent solution." I drank. It tasted like lightning and winter. Immediately, the constant burning in my chest cooled. "Better?" "Yes. Thank you." "Don't thank me yet." Morgana turned to Dimitri, who'd been silent throughout. "You. Alpha. You've been playing a very long game." "I made a promise—" "You made more than that." She pulled out a leather journal—my mother's handwriting. "Rose wrote about you. The boy who was dying from silver poisoning until she saved him. The boy whose life she tied to her daughter's with blood magic."