The world around him was barren.
If only that had been the first time. So many places he had been were barren and boring. He considered using a return portal immediately, but there was a good chance Higgrion would wait.
Instead, Arz decided to take a stroll. It wouldn’t matter where he went. Portals only ever opened at one spot in each realm. He could walk across this entire realm and still take a portal straight back to his study.
The sky was yellow and looked toxic, though the air smelled clear and clean. Everything was brown and dry, covered in vertisols. Arz crouched and ran his hand over the dry ground, seeing if it would crumble to dust. It wasn’t soil like he was used to on Earth. Each realm seemed to have its own ground composition that could be helpful for future experiments.
“Hopefully Higgrion didn’t fire.” Arz jabbed his finger into the dirt until some of it crumbled. “Sal wouldn’t like it.”
He used a vial to scoop the bit of dust in and sealed it with a cork. There were a dozen vials in the pocket on his belt, organized into four sections of three vials. It was always good to keep at least three return vials, because it was impossible to predict what might happen, even for Arz.
Three glowing orange rocks stacked on top of each other in his inner jacket pocket. The fabric was thin enough that they sizzled and tingled the skin on his chest. It wasn’t more than a little discomfort.
Arz stared at the brown dust in the vial. He had trouble deciding what to do without thinking out loud, which had caused him some difficulties before. The Guild of Wizards specifically had been annoyed when Arz had thought through the reasons he didn’t like them while they were all present.
It wasn’t his best habit, but it was one proven to work.
“This was an easy recipe.” He walked on, shaking the dust in the vial. There hadn’t been much to collect, and it didn’t feel worth the effort to collect something that might not be more than a little bit of dirt. “I need to give Higgrion time to go home, but there’s nothing here.”
The ground was warm on his bare feet. It was easy to assume there was a sun somewhere above, but the thick yellow sky hid any sign of a sun or stars. Arz walked aimlessly for a while before finally stopping.
“Where am I?”
He pulled a small notebook and a little pencil from the other side of his jacket. Everything would eventually be transferred to the tome in his study, but sometimes it was necessary to take notes while exploring. What if he forgot something? Not that he would. Arz never forgot anything. At least, not anything he remembered.
Clouds of yellow gasses moved underneath the dimmer, paler yellow sky. Arz watched the clumps of gas that acted like clouds. “If anything is worth gathering here, it’s that.”
The land in every direction was flat and cracked, just as it was directly beneath his feet. There was nowhere else to go.
Arz sighed and sat down. He leaned back, lacing his fingers together to rest his head on. There was nothing better to do than sleep. It was night on Earth, and he wasn’t concerned about being attacked while resting on the lifeless plain.
Fire roared in the dark night. Smoke hung over Bralincote like a murderous storm.
Arz dropped his papers and fell running down the street. Blood dripped onto his torn sleeves.
Within the fire, they screamed.
Arz sat up with tears in his eyes. Whatever sun had been hiding high in the sky had set, leaving a blanket of stars above the lifeless realm. Arz sighed, quickly realizing he didn’t recognize any of them.
“All I need is that one answer.” He pulled his notebook out and jotted a few lines down. “Is this a different planet or a different realm?” He put his pencil away and reread the lines he had just written. “I can’t keep using the word realm forever. It sounds ignorant.”
Yellow clouds continued drifting through the air, too high for Arz to reach. Perhaps he would come back, but it would only be once he had figured out a way to harvest those.
There was no real way to tell how long he had slept for. The day and night cycle could be very different from what he was used to. And there was no visible sun to track. Arz yawned and felt his skin ache for the first time. He gently pressed a hand to his cheek and scowled at the heat. Sunburn. His worst enemy.
Arz withdrew a purple vial and an orange rock. He had some salve somewhere in the study for the burns. He tossed the rock onto the ground, sending up a cloud of sparks. He poured the purple liquid onto the sparks and took a half step back as the portal tore through reality.
The warm glow of the rising sun greeted Arz, followed by a musket butt to the chest. Arz steadied himself by grabbing Higgrion’s cheek. The portal was still open behind him, a whirling pool of darkness. Arz’s pale skin couldn’t take more time in the sun.
Higgrion shoved Arz’s hand away as the portal closed, forcing Arz to sit beside the lectern. Sal swam into the nearby container and pressed his face against the glass.
“Oh, Sal, you’re safe. Good.”
“You think I’d hurt an animal?” Higgrion asked as he aimed the musket at Arz’s chest.
“Now, Higgrion, I don’t mean to demean you, but you are aware the two of us are animals. All humans are, in fact, animals.” Arz reached inside his jacket pocket.
Higgrion placed his finger on the trigger. “I’ll shoot.”
Arz put his hands up. “You know, there are about a million things I need to do. Even the things I don’t need to do sound more fun than visiting Jaralath. Can I, perhaps, clean a latrine with my tongue instead?”
“You didn’t look around, did you?”
Behind Higgrion, Arz could only see the massive window looking out on Bralincote. That gave him a bad feeling. If Higgrion was confident, then Arz really was in a bad position.
“May I stand?”
“Keep your hands up.”
Arz tried to stand with his hands raised and lost his balance, falling back onto the lectern.
“Fine, pushing yourself up,” Higgrion muttered.
“Oh, you’re gracious.” Arz grabbed the lectern near where his tome rested and pulled himself to his feet. An entire squad of city guards stood in the opening to Arz’s study, spilling out into the fortress beyond. “Okay, Higgrion, we’re both aware their aim is probably as horrendous as your love life.”
“I’m married, Arz.”
“Hm. This is the first time I’m hearing about this. Is it new?”
“Thirty-five years.”
“She must truly know what suffering is.”
“Start walking. If those hands move at all—”
“I know,” Arz interrupted. “You’re going to show me how tough you are.” He walked down the small set of stairs to the long dining table in the middle of the room. Arz lingered for a moment before pivoting around. “As you can see, my skin is properly burnt. There is some salve here for—”
“No.”
Arz rolled his eyes. “Fine.”
A guard approached, nodding to Higgrion as he hesitantly came closer. They had certainly heard stories of Arz, but if they came from Jaralath or Higgrion, Arz couldn’t be sure what they would’ve heard. Were they scared of Arz or Higgrion?
“Take his belt and jacket,” Higgrion commanded.
The guard reached out, looking at Arz as if asking for permission.
Arz winked. “Dangerous stuff in there.”
The guard’s scowl deepened as he undid the belt latch. Glass clinked as the vials were jumbled, causing the guard to flinch in fear.
“Could explode,” Arz said casually. He took off his own jacket and handed it over. “What if there’s a breeze?”
“Then I will haul your frozen corpse to the Wizards.”
“Oh, don’t call them that.”
The nearby guard shackled Arz’s hands behind his back. It irritated his shoulder, but it didn’t seem worth mentioning. Higgrion was probably itching for a reason to shoot.
The journey through the fortress and down the incredible spiral staircase went faster than Arz remembered. It had been a few weeks since he had left his study by any means other than a portal.
He only had six portals logged, apart from his return ones. There were a few others, such as the one he had just returned from, that were logged for formulas to adjust, but not for destinations. Though that could be a decent place to escape to. Escapopolis. He would need to write that down as soon as he returned to the study.
Arz hadn’t even needed to get food lately with all the dehydrated, preserved foods stored around his residence. Sal would eat just about anything, and there were a few rare times that Arz had found something in one of the realms.
His hope was to find a portal that led into the marketplace of Bralincote so he could buy food without ever having to go up or down the stairs. What a dream it would be.
The Guild of Wizards, as they so grandly called themselves, was in the direct center of the city. They wanted their presence to be known.
“Where do you think the Wizards have their meetings?” Arz asked the guard escorting him. There were guards on all sides, completely surrounding him, but only one had a hand on his shackles, guiding him in the correct direction.
“Do you not know?” the guard asked.
The man looked young enough, but Arz still expected him to catch onto the sarcasm. “Uh, no.”
A hand pointed out past Arz. “That building.”
It was by far the biggest building in Bralincote. All around them were towering structures of brick and metal, but in the center of the city, not terribly far from Arz’s study, was a monstrosity. It was a mismatched limestone and marble structure almost twice as tall as any other building. The Prime Wizard building was a box with towers in each corner. One of the most famous pieces of the building was the incredibly detailed stained glass windows depicting some rather lewd images. These windows dominated each face of the Prime Wizard building, taking up almost the entire side.
Arz always found it odd that the council leading the biggest city in the northern hemisphere worked under a window depicting oral sex. Was there no shame?
“And what does that window represent?” Arz asked the young man.
“Um . . .” The man leaned a little closer. “I honestly don’t know but it looks like—”
“Oh, I know what it looks like. What’s your name?”
“Jarreth.”
“Nice to meet you, Jarreth. Shame to know your parents hated you from the moment you were born.”
“I was an orphan, sir.”
Arz coughed and cleared his throat. “Yes, well . . . Nice to meet you. If you used one word to describe the windows on the Prime Wizard building, what would you choose?”
“Pornographic.”
“Fitting.”
Arz let Jarreth and the city guards guide him the rest of the way without incident. He had a few ideas of ways in which to escape, but that would only cause Higgrion to hang around his study more often. He needed to wait for the right moment.
They marched up the grand limestone staircase. There were people all around, watching the procession pass. None of them knew who Arz was. Why would they? Any attention on him would be attention away from the Wizards, and they loved attention. It was the best way to keep them focused on other issues. If the people of Bralincote were worried about Arz, then Higgrion would have grabbed him months sooner.
Heavy stone doors three times taller than Arz were pulled open as they approached. They ground on the marble floor, running over worn grooves from the same repeated action.
The Prime Wizard building was an incredible feat of architecture, even if there were some questionable design choices. The ceiling was so far above that the colorful glass on the ceiling looked like it was an aurora dancing in the night sky.
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“Let him go in alone,” Higgrion said behind Arz. The whole procession slowed to a stop in front of two more grand stone doors. Jarreth grabbed the shackles, but was stopped by Higgrion. “He doesn’t need to move his hands.”
“It helps me talk.”
“Shame it doesn’t stop you from talking altogether.”
The doors to the Guild chamber scraped open, grinding stone on stone as they slowly swung inward. A crystal table full of old people stared at him from inside, and behind them was the image of a man and a woman having an interesting night, forever frozen in glass.
Arz chuckled to himself as he walked in. The doors closed behind him, grinding loudly as they fit back into place.
“I have to say, it is always humbling to stand before such a massive penis.” Arz smiled broadly at the Guild.
At the head of the blue-crystal table was a man with long white hair and an even longer, even whiter beard. His skin was crinkled and weathered, and his eyes were piercing blue, nearing white. He was the embodiment of old. His stomach protruded despite his best efforts to hide it. The old man had been slim when Arz first met him, but that was a long time ago.
Every other member of the Guild looked up at the stained glass image, but Jaralath, the oldest of the Wizards, stared straight at Arz.
“Finally, the famed alchemist visits.” Jaralath’s voice boomed in the room, echoing up to the sky-like ceiling.
“Where?” Arz feigned looking behind him and around the room.
The other seven Guild members looked back at Arz with disdain. Or contempt. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, but he knew it wasn’t joy. Or love. Or really anything positive.
“The Guild of Wizards charges Arz Kurana with treason against the natural order,” Jaralath said, still staring daggers at Arz.
“Okay,” Arz said. He meandered up to the open end of the table. “I understand the charges, but I would love to know who the Wizards are.”
Jaralath’s face morphed from anger to just hatred. That was the face Arz was more familiar with.
“We are all aware of your criticisms of our organization,” Ellazahl said. She sat to Jaralath’s right with perfect posture and composure. Arz thought perhaps Jaralath should reconsider the seating arrangements because his proximity to Ellazahl only made him look more haggard. She was well put together for such an old person.
“I have to say it is more than just criticism. If I called myself an eagle, well, that wouldn’t be accurate, would it? I don’t have wings or a beak. I might be a little overdo for a nail trimming, but they certainly aren’t talons. If you’re a Wizard, I would expect some type of magic. Even the slightest bit. If your little puppet guard would’ve let me grab some things before heading here, I would’ve brought a stick I found once that you could’ve used as a wand to demonstrate some of your nifty little spells.”
“We don’t use wands,” a stone-faced woman said. Her voice was deep and serious, as always. Sarcasm didn’t seem to register with her.
“Ogatharix, I was kidding. You don’t use anything because you can’t use any spells.”
“Enough,” Jaralath shouted. “You continually waste our time hunting you down.”
Arz gasped, feigning shock. “Me? Wasting your time? No, no, no, Mister Wizard, you are wasting your own time. I am doing more than all eight of you combined, and I don’t even call myself a Wizard. Did you notice that? I have seen other realms and fought things beyond your comprehension. And guess what? There isn’t even a hint of magic involved.”
Arz thought of dodging the jellyfish, or falling asleep out in the sun. Perhaps those things weren’t beyond their comprehension. The Storm Land wasn’t something he could easily explain, and the rest of the realms he had found had been mundane at best, but they didn’t need to know that. They knew of the real reason Arz ripped holes in the universe.
“Have you found what you’re looking for?” Jaralath asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
“No.” Arz clenched his jaw. He shook his hands causing the cuffs to jingle. “Is this necessary? What are you so scared of?”
“You,” Adrezor said. He was the tallest of the Guild and always looked like he was growing out of his clothes. They were all too short for him, though Arz was certain the man had met plenty of tailors in his long life. “You are unpredictable, Arz.”
Arz glared at the Wizard, trying to stop himself from grinding his teeth. “Unpredictable? That’s the best you have? What a joke. I’m plenty predictable. You’re all just too busy shoving your heads up each other’s asses to notice. Let me out of these cuffs and I’ll send you to a barren world to die alone.”
The Guild watched Arz in stunned silence.
“Arz Kurana,” Jaralath finally said, “We brought you here for a reason. Every time you travel, you threaten Bralincote.” He exchanged looks with the Guild. “No, you threaten the Earth. Your portals could bring danger upon us or destroy the world itself. Under the authority of the Guild of Wizards . . .” Jaralath took a deep breath and stood. “You are hereby sentenced to death.”
Arz rolled his eyes. “Why would I waste my time?”
That question earned silence and more than a few confused looks.
“I’ve got places to go,” Arz said. “I made a promise, and it wasn’t to any of you.”
“Stop this foolishness. You will be hanged for crimes against the natural order in front of the steps tomorrow.” Jaralath scanned the Guild before letting his gaze slowly return to Arz. “Do you have any words for us?”
“How many of you are going to lick my ass while I hang?” Arz asked.
Jaralath’s jaw dropped.
“How dare you?” Ellazahl said, slamming her hands on the table as her face twisted in anger.
“Well, I’m not capable of it. I stretch, but come on. Flexibility like that is unheard of. Can you imagine?” Arz looked into the air and sighed as if he was dreaming something amazing.
“You are disgusting,” Upovira said. She had her hand on her pommel, ready to draw her sword. Arz rolled his eyes. She didn’t even have a firearm. If he needed more reasons to believe the Guild were behind the times, Upovira was it.
“Are you looking forward to rotting?” Trallos asked. He stifled a yawn and looked at Arz with eyes that screamed boredom.
“I’m looking forward to a lot of things. It’s just, uh, one of those things isn’t seeing any of you.” Arz shook the shackles. “Any chance we can remove these now? I’d love to wave my goodbyes.”
“Take him away, Captain,” Jaralath commanded. He wouldn’t even look at Arz as the guard captain dragged him away.
Arz let himself be dragged from the room. There was no reason to rush. His belt was helpful, but he could survive without it. He had several others still hidden around the study.
Higgrion shoved him into the wall as soon as they were outside the Guild chamber. “You moron!”
“Me?”
Higgrion scowled. “You can’t get any of this through your head, can you? Jaralath wanted to help you. He thought you were capable of greatness.”
“Of what?” Arz asked, playing dumb. He fought the urge to roll his eyes, knowing full well that Higgrion would simply punch him in the face.
“You’re going to a cell now.”
“Great. I need a nap.”
Higgrion gritted his teeth and shoved Arz forward, heading toward a dark staircase that led under the Prime Wizard building. The cells below got no light and were the most secure in all of Bralincote. Nobody could escape it. Well, almost nobody.
“Search him,” Higgrion commanded.
A guard patted Arz’s legs down and found nothing. They reached into his jacket and fumbled around, poking things and patting others. Arz fought to keep the smirk off his face. Everyone hated the smirk. It never really did manage to help him keep things secret.
“He’s clean,” the guard said.
“Take him down.” Higgrion shoved Arz away, handing him off to the next guard. “Your hanging will be during the sunset tomorrow.” The captain stormed back to the Guild Chamber, probably hoping for an opportunity to complain about Arz.
The guards were silent as they guided Arz down a series of stairs, winding back and forth, taking sharp turns, and driving him deeper into the darkness beneath the Prime Wizard building.
“Is this worth our time?” Arz asked.
Nobody responded. Higgrion had warned the guards. It was boring.
Finally, they arrived at a hallway lit by a single flickering torch. It was damp with empty cells on both sides of the hallway. There was another door at the far end.
“What’s down there?” Arz asked.
“You don’t want to know.” The guard opened the first cell and shoved Arz inside. They undid the shackles and slammed the door. As soon as the guard put the keys into a pocket, Arz let the smirk slide onto his face.
“What’s so funny?” the guard asked.
Arz reached into his jacket pocket and pushed aside a hidden flap. He pulled out a vial of shimmering liquid and a sparkstone. It was uncomfortable keeping the sparkstone so close to his armpit, pushed so far into the fabric, but it had its benefits.
“No,” the guard shouted. He immediately reached into his pocket and started fumbling with his keys.
“Oh, too late.” Arz smashed the sparkstone on the ground and popped the top off the vial. “Tell Higgrion I said it was a nice try.”
He poured the liquid onto the sparks and tore a hole through the air. Arz reached to the side and waved, making sure the guards could see it as Arz stepped through the portal.
He appeared in his study and took a deep breath of fresh air. That damp prison air was too much for even a single breath.
“Sal,” Arz said as the eel swam into the container near the lectern. “How’s my friend?” Arz clapped his hands together and calmly walked through his study, past the ingredients table, past his bed, and over to the door. He closed it, locked it, barred it, added another lock, and then put a chair in front, just for good measure.
“You think this will work?” he asked.
Sal didn’t answer.
“Yeah, I think it will too.” Arz grabbed a piece of salted fish off the ingredients table and brushed some orange dust off it. A quick sniff told him it was still good to eat, so he took a big bite. It was flavorful, even if that flavor wasn’t particularly pleasant.
“We have some work to do,” Arz said around the fish. He tore a chunk off and dropped it in Sal’s container. “Two half failures makes one full failure. So, let’s find a success this time.”
Arz stopped at his workstation and scowled. “Is that right? Arithmetic isn’t the same as alchemy, you know.”
Sal didn’t criticize him. Or even comment. Eels didn’t talk.
“Yeah, okay.”
Arz took the jar of purple paste and smeared another streak onto the workstation. He would have enough for two or three more trials, then he would need to hop back to the Storm Trees.
Sal swam in circles in the nearby container, ready to zap when Arz needed it. He appreciated Sal’s willingness to help. Finding jolts of electricity in everyday life would be difficult.
“Alright.” Arz left the paste smeared and returned the jar to the vast table of ingredients. He stuffed a few vials of purple return potions and a few orange sparkstones to his jacket pocket.
“Oh,” he said as he crouched and grabbed a new belt from beneath the table. “I hope Higgrion enjoys the scraps left in that belt.” He said it, trying to convince himself he was fine losing any amount of ingredients. Every little thing could matter in the end, and there was no chance the guard captain would ever understand that. Arz stuffed a few sticks of jerky in the belt and zipped it shut.
“What do I use?” Each ingredient had value, some more than others. Vials of silverwater and red oil were particularly expensive, especially when Arz couldn't gather them himself.
He had jars of Storm Dust, Rainbow Salt, and different colored sparkstones sitting beside chunks of both shining and regular moonstone ore. There were a ton of normal household ingredients spread around as well, but those could be used without concern. Basil wasn’t difficult to acquire.
One jar stood out. It caught Arz’s eye in a way the other ingredients hadn’t. Celestial Essence. He picked it up and held it an inch from his face. The fog spun slowly inside the jar, even without wind to disrupt it.
“Celestial Essence could be used for something,” Arz mumbled, knowing Sal wouldn’t hear him. “The fog of the willow trees. Difficult to capture. It reacts strongly to silverwater.” Arz set the jar down and grabbed a vial of silverwater. The shining liquid even looked expensive. It was really nothing more than water with silver fully mixed in, but it was nearly impossible to naturally make. Silverwater was only easily extractable in one place.
“Is it worth it, Sal?” Arz asked himself. Celestial Essence and silverwater reacted strongly, and that could be enough to kickstart a full recipe.
He exhaled through his nose, doing his best to not fog up the glass around him. “Here we go.” Arz set the silverwater on the workstation and placed the Celestial Essence nearby. “What if . . .” He dropped one last vial. This one was smaller than the others. He only had three total, including the one he was holding. There was a single drop of water inside. Right now, it looked normal and clear. When it was around firelight, it glowed like the sun.
Arz set the vial near the others and hurried to his lectern. Higgrion and others would be arriving soon, and he would rather not be present. Even if they waited for him again.
He opened the tome to a new page and grabbed a pen.
New Recipe - Unnamed - Yet to be tested
- About a tablespoon of Storm Tree Paste - Intention of Opening a Portal
- A jar of Celestial Essence - We’ll say about an ounce. Weighing fog is difficult. The willow fog can only be estimated - need to improve measurements later
- Silverwater - An entire vial - About 3 drams - Used to react with Celestial Essence
- —---
Arz stared at the page. Even imagining using one of his Drops of Heaven was painful. Each drop was worth a fortune on its own. If he was wrong and this recipe didn’t work, he would be down one very valuable ingredient. There was a chance he would never see another outside the three in his possession. They were difficult to collect, and most people weren’t even willing to go to the volcano where they formed.
He sighed and continued.
- One Drop of Heaven added once the mixture is fully integrated into the Storm Tree paste.
Based on earlier tests, a Drop of Heaven should react with the Storm Tree. Fire and Storm Tree leaves have an incredible reaction unlike anything naturally occurring on Earth. The Drop of Heaven should take that reaction to a higher level. The two separate reactions occurring, with the Storm Tree leaf as a portal base, should easily tear a hole right before my eyes.
If I don’t return, Sal is my sole inheritor.
The Guild of Wizards has no claim on my stuff. Only Sal.
Arz closed the tome, grabbed the various ingredients, and returned to his workstation. Notes were useful more for helping Arz keep his thoughts in order than for teaching anyone how to make the recipes. He hoped Jaralath wouldn’t grow bold enough to simply steal the tome, but that was always a possibility. A full raid on Arz’s study would be quite the haul, if they were ever smart enough to do it.
“Alright.” Arz took the top off the jar and poured the Celestial Essence onto the paste. The fog floated down, heavier than the air, and settled on the purple surface. Arz’s heartbeat sped up as he grabbed the silverwater. The thrill was from a mix of the expensive nature of the item and the unknown result of what would happen. There was excitement in each experiment, but that was closely followed by fear.
If he found himself truly lost or hopeless, what would he do?
He knew he was smart. That much was obvious. But last time he had been stranded, Arz was helpless for weeks. Was all of this danger worth it? Would Alorala be proud?
“Fuck it,” Arz said, dumping the silverwater onto the fog.
His mind cleared as the silverwater hung, suspended in the air as it was pulled into rivulets that ran through the Celestial Essence.
“Perfect, Sal.” Arz grinned as the mixture settled. The silverwater pulled the Celestial Essence down until it all rested flat on the paste.
“Time to roll.” Rolling the paste was much like kneading dough. It was a skill Arz hadn’t realized he had. Ziylara had taught him years ago, but he had only ever half paid attention. He was a scientist after all, why would he need to know how to knead?
Arz’s smile faded as he imagined Ziylara’s lessons. She never stopped teaching him. Never stopped showing him the wonders of everyday life, of the things right before his eyes.
The purple mixture was fully kneaded. Silver lines ran through the purple paste while fog drifted out, but hovered nearby. Arz grabbed a knife and cut the mixture into even slices. If he was right, he had just made enough for five different portals.
Arz picked up a nearby vial and smashed the mixture into it, leaving a little room at the top. For cream, he thought, though drinking the mixture would certainly kill him. Silverwater was especially deadly. Celestial Essence wasn’t too great on the body either. And Storm Tree leaves couldn’t be good for a human’s digestion either. It would be better not to eat it.
“See you soon, Sal,” Arz said. He held the portal potion and a cork in one hand, and the tiny vial of a Drop of Heaven in the other. “If I’m wrong, I’m selling you to make up for the used Drop.”
The eel didn’t respond. Probably because he was offended.
Arz used his thumb to toss the cork off the small vial. The little drop of water looked so ordinary at the moment. He poured it into the other vial and topped it with a cork immediately.
The Drop of Heaven flared brightly as soon as it touched the mixture. The glass became incredibly hot, almost forcing Arz to drop it on the ground. Instead, he ground his teeth and stepped back, giving himself room to open the portal without accidentally pulling something else in.
Glass shattered, cutting deep into his hand. Arz screamed as the molten mixture ran over his palm, searing the glass cuts closed. A portal appeared as the mixture fell, as if the broken vial cut a gash through reality.
Arz pulled his injured hand to his chest as the portal pulled him inside.