Fertilizer Alchemy

The alchemy supply shop in Treasure Bay was squeezed into the end of the messiest alley in the dock district. Its sign hung crookedly, the faded paint spelling out "Golden Hand Brothers Alchemy Workshop," with a cauldron bubbling green beside it—looking like the work of a drunken Goblin.

When Deren pushed open the door, the hinges let out a piercing creak, as if protesting the disturbance to their peace. A wave of heat mixed with sulfur, Rotten Grass, and some suspiciously cloying scent hit him in the face, tightening his throat. He instinctively covered his nose, only for his elbow to knock into a string of dried lizard tails hanging beside the door. The shriveled things swayed like wind chimes, clattering away.

"Careful! Those are specialties from Zangar Marsh! One bottle costs half your life!" a shrill voice called from behind the counter.

Deren narrowed his eyes. Under the dim lamplight, he finally made out the speaker—a Goblin even rounder than his guide Rizk. Dressed in a filthy white lab coat, if it could still be called white, the Goblin stood on tiptoe arranging a row of eyeballs soaking in purple liquid on a shelf. As the liquid sloshed, the eyeballs slowly turned, their pupils seeming to stare right at him.

Onyxia—currently "Selina Morningstar"—stood half a step behind Deren, lightly tapping her staff against the floor, her face filled with disgust. Her High Elf illusion looked utterly out of place in such a filthy environment; even her silver hair seemed dusted with grime.

"Welcome to Wrench Brothers!" The Goblin jumped down from his stool, his gold tooth gleaming as he grinned. "I'm Grozz Goldenhand, Treasure Bay's most professional, most affordable, most—"

"—most boastful alchemy supplier?" Deren cut in, pulling a crumpled piece of parchment from his robes. "I need these. Today."

Grozz snatched up the list, his pea-sized eyes darting over it. "Sulfur, Saltpeter, pure water, glassware... Hm? Hair too?" He looked up with a sly grin. "Customer, what are you making? A love potion? A cursed doll? Or—"

"Fertilizer," Deren said without changing expression.

"Fertilizer?!" The Goblin's pitch rose sharply. "Using Saltpeter for fertilizer? Do you take me for a farmer from Westfall?"

Deren sighed, fishing a gold coin from his purse and rolling it across his fingers. "Would a Goblin really pick a fight with gold?"

The coin's gleam reflected in the Goblin's pupils. His eyes followed it around twice before he suddenly lowered his voice. "Actually... if you need some special goods, such as—" He bent down furtively and pulled a small iron box from beneath the counter. "—Blue Dragon Scale Powder freshly shipped from The Hinterlands? Or..." He licked his lips. "I got hold of some Felhound Spinal Fluid last month..."

"No need," Onyxia suddenly said, planting her staff on the floor with a thud. Her voice was quiet, yet even the oil lamp's flame shuddered violently.

Grozz's ears drooped at once. He gave an awkward laugh and quickly shoved the iron box back under the counter. "Just joking! We're respectable merchants!" As he turned away, though, he muttered under his breath, "High Elves are such a pain..."

Over the next half hour, Deren followed the Goblin through the crowded shelves. Grozz moved like a nimble marmot, squeezing into corners piled with bottles and jars one moment, then climbing rickety ladders the next, all while chattering nonstop.

"Sulfur's here—specialty of Northrend volcanoes! Saltpeter? Ha! You're in luck, a shipment from Tanaan Jungle came in yesterday... Pure water? Of course! Goblin-tech distilled, ninety-nine percent pure! What? You need it purer? Customer, are you drinking it or experimenting with it?"

Deren ignored his rambling and carefully inspected every material. He rubbed a pinch of Saltpeter between his fingers, then held the sulfur up to the light to inspect its color. Finally, he had Onyxia verify the quality of the pure water. She nodded, indicating it was acceptable.

"You really are a picky customer." Grozz rubbed his tingling fingers and complained, "But for this lady's sake—" He stole a glance at the Dalaran insignia on the High Elf's waist. "—I'll give you ten percent off!"

By the time all the materials were finally packed, Deren's sleeves were covered in unidentified powder, while Onyxia's boot tip had unfortunately stepped into a puddle of thick green liquid that reeked like rotten fish.

"Pleasure doing business!" Grozz said cheerfully, handing over the bill. "That'll be forty-two gold and seven Silver Coins—I've rounded it down for you!"

Onyxia's eyebrow twitched. Deren hurriedly pressed down the hand gripping her staff and paid the bill himself.

By the time Deren and Onyxia returned to the Stone House with their bags and bundles, night had already fallen.

Bang!

Onyxia heavily threw the sack of sulfur onto the floor. Dust burst upward with a puff, making Deren cough twice. She lowered her gaze to the green stain on the tip of her boot, which would not come off no matter how she scrubbed it. Beneath her illusion, her dragon eyes narrowed dangerously.

"This trash—" She ground her teeth and kicked the sack of Saltpeter. "—what exactly can it do?"

Deren wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned. "Fertilizer."

The air instantly froze.

"Fer... tilizer?" Onyxia's voice was terrifyingly soft, each syllable forced out through clenched teeth.

"Yes, the kind that helps crops grow better—"

"I know what fertilizer is!" The Black Dragon Princess's roar shook dust from the ceiling. Her illusion nearly collapsed, black scales glinting faintly amid her silver hair. "You made me—the Daughter of Deathwing!—haul these filthy rocks around like a laborer, just to farm?!"

Deren quickly raised both hands. "Patience! Patience! That's just the cover story!" He lowered his voice. "Think about it. If we bought explosive materials openly, wouldn't the Goblins get suspicious? But buying ingredients for Fertilizer is perfectly reasonable. No one would suspect anything—not even dragons."

Dragonfire churned in Onyxia's chest, but reason barely restrained her rage. She grabbed the Beaker rack and crushed one of its supports with a crack. "Your 'result' had better be worth putting up with all this."

What followed was utterly absurd—

The six-foot-tall "High Elf" floated in midair with a dark expression—she refused to step on the dirty floor again—using Shadow Power to arrange the test tubes. Deren, meanwhile, crouched on the floor and assembled glass pipes like building blocks, occasionally jolting in fright when Onyxia deliberately "accidentally" dropped a crucible.

"Turn it fifteen degrees left." Deren pointed at the Condenser. "No, back a little—stop! Right there—"

Snap! The pipe was suddenly bent into a right angle by an invisible force.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?!"

Onyxia gracefully brushed back her silver hair. "My hand slipped."

When the apparatus was finally complete, the entire workbench looked as though Goblins had bombed it. Crooked glassware hung from slanted stands, the pipe joints were barely sealed with suspicious green slime—a "gift" from Grozz—and several dragon scales that Onyxia had "accidentally" dropped floated in the Beaker that was supposed to hold pure water.

Deren looked at the disaster and suddenly laughed. "You know, this is even better than I expected."

"Oh?" Onyxia raised an eyebrow. "Were you expecting an explosion?"

"No." Deren lightly tapped the most crucial Sulfur Combustion Chamber. "Precisely because it looks so ramshackle, even if someone spies on us, they'll never guess what it can make."

Inside the Stone House, pungent sulfur smoke filled the air. Deren covered his nose and mouth with a wet cloth, his eyes red and swollen as tears streamed uncontrollably down his face.

"Cough, cough—cough!" He hunched over and stumbled miserably back into the corner. "This... this is so much... cough... more choking than I imagined..."

Onyxia, however, stood before the workbench with a pleased curve to her lips. With a light flick of her slender fingers, Shadow Power lifted a chunk of sulfur into the air. Then, with a hiss, a flame of black-red Dragonfire leaped from her fingertips and precisely scorched the sulfur.

The sulfur swiftly melted and burned, thick Sulfur Dioxide billowing out and gurgling through the glass pipe into a flask filled with pure water. The liquid gradually turned pale yellow, while with a casual wave of her hand, she directed the escaping smoke straight out the window—like an obedient pet snake.

"Mortals really are fragile." She gave a soft snort, even humming a tune at leisure—some ancient draconic melody, low and rhythmic, as though celebrating a tiny act of destruction.

Wiping away his tears, Deren gave a bitter smile. "Your Highness, aren't you... cough... enjoying this a little too much?"

Onyxia shot him a sidelong glance, her dragon eyes flickering in the firelight. "Sulfur suits dragons perfectly."

Deren couldn't help laughing.

As the last trace of sulfur burned away, the liquid in the flask had become a clear sulfurous acid solution. Onyxia snapped her fingers in satisfaction, and the remaining smoke was instantly compressed into a tiny ball before vanishing in her palm with a pop.

"Alright." She shook her hand. "What's next? Burn more stuff? Or blow something up?" There was actually a hint of anticipation in her voice.

Deren rubbed his sore eyes, helplessly amused. "Next... we need to use this to make sulfuric acid."

"An even more acidic liquid?" Onyxia raised a brow. "You mortals really enjoy messing around with useless things."

"Useful—extremely useful." Deren pointed at a sack of saltpeter piled in the corner. "Once we have sulfuric acid, we can react it with saltpeter to produce nitric acid—and then we can make a real 'surprise.'"

Onyxia stared at him for two seconds, then suddenly chuckled. "You little madman... I'm starting to like your plan."

Deren grinned, though tear streaks still remained on his face. "Then... another batch?"

Flames flared from the Black Dragon Princess's fingertips. "This time, I'm burning double."

Just as Onyxia eagerly began burning the second batch of sulfur—

"Cough, cough, cough—!!"

A violent coughing fit suddenly came from midair. Then, a bronze-colored rift tore through the air in the room with a hiss. Chromie's little head abruptly poked out of the crack, her golden twin ponytails frizzed up by the acid fumes, tears streaming down her face.

"What are you—cough cough—doing?!" she shrieked as she wiped her tears, wildly waving the Hourglass Staff. "This smell is so choking!"

Deren and Onyxia both froze.

Onyxia's dragonfire went out with a puff. She narrowed her eyes, her tone dangerous. "Bronze Dragon, were you following us?"

"Following you?!" Chromie leaped out of the temporal rift in anger, her little boots landing on the lab table with a clack and nearly knocking over a bottle of sulfuric acid. "You're the ones causing trouble, and you're blaming me! I saw an anomaly in the Timeline and came to see what you were up to, only to find you burning sulfur in here. It's too strange—why has the Timeline changed?"

Deren guiltily rubbed his nose. "Uh... is it really that serious?"

"Serious?!" Chromie shrieked. "It makes no sense! You were only burning sulfur, so why has the Timeline shifted so drastically?"

Onyxia crossed her arms and sneered. "So what? Are you going to stop us?"

Chromie choked on her words, and her momentum instantly weakened. She secretly glanced at the dragonfire still lingering around Onyxia's fingertips, then at Deren's face written with "innocence." In the end, she slumped her shoulders in defeat. "Forget it, do whatever you want. I'll just pretend I was never here! Cough, cough—"