The lecture hall at Aurum Academy smelled faintly of sulfur and ink. Rows of students sat hunched over their desks, some scribbling notes furiously, others barely paying attention. At the front of the room, Professor Calder strode to the blackboard and, with a flick of his wrist, wrote in large, chalky letters:

  Qualitative Analysis: Identifies what is present in a substance. Quantitative Analysis: Determines how much of a substance is present.

  He turned to face the class, adjusting his spectacles. "This is the fundamental difference between the two branches of analytical alchemy. One tells you the identity, the other tells you the amount. Simple enough."

  It was a definition every student in the room had memorized before even stepping foot in the academy. Yet, as Cassian watched the professor underline the words, something about them felt… incomplete.

  Professor Calder continued, "Qualitative analysis gives you the essence of a thing—the elements, the compounds, the presence of impurities. Quantitative analysis tells you the proportions, the exact measurements needed for reactions to occur predictably. Without one, the other is useless."

  Cassian tapped his fingers against the wooden desk. But is that really true?

  A hand shot up from across the room. It was Rhys Everhart, the kind of student who always had an answer, even when one wasn’t needed. "Professor, doesn’t that mean qualitative analysis is inferior? If you don’t know how much of something is present, knowing what it is won’t get you far. Chemistry without numbers is just guesswork."

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  A few students chuckled. Cassian frowned.

  Professor Calder gave a tired nod. "A fair point, but an oversimplified one. Consider this—knowing the exact concentration of an unknown substance is useless if you don’t even know what that substance is. Both are required in true alchemical mastery."

  Cassian’s thoughts churned. He wasn’t satisfied. Something about the distinction between "what" and "how much" felt… off. It felt like a trick, a fundamental assumption that had never been questioned because it had always been presented as obvious.

  "But, sir," Cassian spoke up, drawing a few glances his way, "isn’t there a difference between knowing something exists and understanding what it means? Qualitative analysis might tell me iron is in a sample, but it doesn’t tell me why it's there. Quantitative might tell me how much iron is present, but without knowing what it’s reacting with, the number is meaningless. So isn’t it less about one being superior and more about… perspective?"

  Professor Calder’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before he gave a small smirk. "Ah. Now that is an interesting question."

  The room was silent, waiting for an answer.

  "Alchemy," the professor continued, "is not just about elements and equations. It is about understanding the very nature of change. It is about finding what is hidden beneath the surface. And sometimes, the most dangerous discoveries are the ones that challenge the definitions we've always accepted."

  He turned back to the blackboard and, below the definition, added a third line.

  Alchemy is the study of hidden truths.

  Cassian felt a chill run down his spine.

  The class continued as normal, but he barely heard it. The question gnawed at him. Have we been looking at alchemy the wrong way this whole time?

  As the bell rang and students began to pack up, Cassian remained seated, staring at the words on the board.

  This wasn’t just a lecture. It was a challenge.