Iizeldor Sniggelhorn wanted to live forever and would stop at nothing to find a way to do it. This is not to say Iizeldor was evil, but if it meant bending a few rules and crossing a few palms with gold to get what he wanted, his conscience was okay with that.
So, the wizard locked herself away with his cat Serafina to search his ancient tomes for clues for the elixir of life.
Day after day, he mixed powders of the most brilliant colors in the hope that this time, it would work, and he could drink a toast to long life.
To his dismay, the closest Iizeldor got to an elixir of youth was a wart remover. “You could always sell it at the market. I know a few old witches who would pay a tidy sum for it,” remarked Serafina.
Still, the alchemist was undeterred and returned to his books to read more about herbs and roots that promote good health.
Then it happened. “Eureka, I found it,” he shouted. The wizard quickly gathered the materials and discovered he was missing several vital ingredients.
“Come Serafina off to market,” exclaimed the alchemist.
When they arrived at their favorite vendor’s stall, the merchant was not his old friend but a new man. “Where has Gildor got off to,” asked Iizeldor.
“Sorry, haven’t you heard he died several months ago,” replied the merchant.
At the next shop, Iizeldor learned that the merchant had become ill and died weeks earlier. “He did ask for you, but no one knew your whereabouts. He wanted you to have this,” said the woman, who handed Iizeldor a cloth pouch.
“It’s his Philosopher’s Stone, his most precious possession,” mumbled the wizard.
The morning was spent collecting supplies and catching up on gossip. One thing was sure: Many friends were either sick or dead. “Time to head home, Serafina. There is much work to do,” Iizeldor said as he headed back home.
After preparing dinner for himself and the cat, the alchemist sat in his chair examining his gift. “I always envious of Toolden for having such an important artifact, and now that it is mine, it has lost its shine. I wish I could have been there for him,” remarked the wizard.
“I am tired, perhaps an early bedtime. Come, cat, let’s head up to the tower,” said Iizeldor. Serafina looked at him with shock, as he had never slept early.
That night, Iizeldor’s dreams disturbed his sleep. As dawn approached, the wizard arose, washed his face, and made tea.
“I have been a fool; it wasn’t its length I should have been chasing, but its quality,” said Iizeldor. Gathering the elixir’s ingredients, he threw them in the fire.
“It’s high time we visit Maldor for a game of chess. Don’t you agree, Serafina?” asked the wizard.
“A brilliant idea,” the cat said with a smile.
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