Changes!

After reading the paper, Leonard felt a slight unease settle in his chest. He stuffed it back into the glass bottle, sealed it, and then walked slowly toward the beach. The cool night air tugged at his cloak as he stood at the water's edge, staring out at the dark sea. He was silent for a long moment, thinking of everything that had just happened, the mysterious inheritance, Dybala's cryptic story, and the strange connection to the Eye of Poseidon.

With a quiet sigh, Leonard tossed the bottle into the water. The sound of it hitting the waves barely registered in his mind. "Just let it go where it belongs," he muttered under his breath.

The bottle drifted away, carried by the tide, as the ocean claimed it with a soft, steady sweep. The waves crashed against the rocks, sending a fine mist into the air. The pier in the distance creaked in the wind, and a lighthouse's steady beam of light swept across the water.

Leonard stood there, lost in thought, as the cold wind whipped around him. His thoughts seemed far away, unraveling into the vastness of the sea. Beside him, David stood without a word. His face was dim in the moonlight, but his eyes were far away, lost in memories.

David missed his wife terribly. It had been so long since he'd seen her, and every passing day filled him with more dread. What if something had happened to her? What if she was waiting for him in vain? The fear gnawed at his insides. He'd left her behind so many years ago, driven by his own need to escape. He used to be a humble baker, nothing more than a hardworking man trying to make a life. But his wife? She had never had an easy life. They had to leave their home, their past, and everything familiar just to survive.

He remembered how terrified she was of the dark. What if, in the cold nights without him by her side, she had thought of him, even once? What if she was still afraid, all alone?

David shook his head, as if trying to shake the thoughts away, but the worry still gnawed at him. He felt as though he was failing her.

Leonard sensed the shift in the air beside him and turned toward David. Without a word, he placed a hand on his shoulder in a rare moment of understanding, but then, just as quietly, he pulled away. They both had their burdens to carry.

The silence stretched on until Leonard spoke again, breaking the moment. "Let's go back. There's nothing more to do here."

---

Back in the alchemy lab, Leonard set to work. His eyes flicked toward the small gray rabbit still huddled in its cage. The rabbit lay motionless in the corner, its small body heaving slightly with each breath. Leonard observed it for a moment, then turned away, preparing for his meditation.

Sitting cross-legged on his bed, he closed his eyes and sank into the familiar rhythm of his thoughts, clearing his mind. Meditation was always a welcome escape, but also a challenge. As time passed, he could feel the energy slowly building, his mind attempting to gather the elusive threads needed to form something new; another earth ring. But despite his efforts, the moment passed, and no new ring was formed.

"Well," Leonard muttered to himself as he opened his eyes, "maybe tomorrow." He stood up and stretched, feeling the familiar weight of the day's fatigue settling in. "It's not a failure, just... a delay."

He walked over to his desk, grabbed a dusty alchemy book from the shelf, and flipped it open. Alchemy was always on his mind, even if he wasn't actively practicing. His studies had grown deeper, and now that he had more free time, he devoured whatever he could. The old text was filled with esoteric wisdom and strange theories, but it was enough to spark his curiosity.

The more he read, the clearer the picture became. Alchemy was about transformation. The essence of it all was changing the very nature of matter itself. Creating stronger substances, combining elements in ways no one had ever imagined; alchemy was the backbone of many wizarding disciplines, the foundation upon which power was built.

Leonard chuckled as he turned the page. The arrogance of the alchemists was evident in the writing, and it struck him as somewhat amusing. The author, apparently a passionate alchemist, had no qualms about voicing disdain for other magical fields.

'"There are always some idiots who think that alchemy is just about making puppets!"' Leonard read aloud, his voice dripping with sarcasm. '"Really? This nonsense has lasted for centuries? Alchemy wizards are not just puppet-makers; without us, wizards would still be stuck in the primordial forests!"'

The book continued with a mixture of boastfulness and warnings to young wizards. '"Don't follow those blood-wizard freaks who tinker with corpses and blood. Who knows when you'll end up with a dozen hands or a hundred eyes. No one wants to marry someone like that!"'

Leonard laughed despite himself. "Seems like the author has some personal grudges against bloodline magic." He couldn't help but compare the rants in the book to the scientific discussions he'd read back in his own world. Alchemy and materials science were eerily similar, but with one key difference; alchemy transcended physical boundaries, while materials science dealt solely with tangible substances.

With a sigh, Leonard placed the book down. 'Well, at least the reading was insightful.'

He turned his attention to the small gray rabbit again, and that's when he noticed something strange. His eyes narrowed in confusion. From the corner of his eye, he saw the cage; its contents looked... wrong. It seemed as if the cage had suddenly become full of something, or rather, 'someone'. A thick, matted mass filled the small space, and what had once been a tiny rabbit now seemed to be... growing.

Leonard moved closer, his expression unreadable. He peered inside the cage and found what he feared. The rabbit had not only survived the potion, it had 'changed'. It was no longer the small, weak creature it had been. The fur was matted, and the shape of the body seemed oddly distorted. The transformation had begun.

"Well," Leonard murmured under his breath. "This is... unexpected." He reached for his staff, his mind already racing through the possible outcomes.

Leonard approached the cage slowly, his eyes narrowing as he examined the strange sight before him. He reached in and gently grabbed a handful of what appeared to be fur, only to have it come away in his hand, thick and unnaturally dense.

"Is this... rabbit fur?" he muttered under his breath, his mind already racing with questions.

The fur wasn't like anything he had seen before. It felt different; almost too soft and plush, like something had caused it to grow beyond its natural capacity. As he opened the cage, the fur began to shift, undulating in a way that suggested movement beneath it. Leonard's finger hovered above the mass of hair, and he carefully poked at it.

To his surprise, his finger didn't sink in. The fur was so thick and densely packed that it felt like an impenetrable wall. "Huh..." Leonard mused, his brow furrowing. "This isn't normal."

He poked again, this time harder, and the rabbit's tiny body jerked violently beneath the fur, startling itself. It hopped around in a frantic circle, searching for an escape from the strange new environment Leonard had created. It dashed toward the edge of the table, trying to find a hidden corner to hide in.

"Is this... hirsutism?" Leonard wondered aloud, unsure of the exact term, but the change in the rabbit was undeniable. It was covered in thick, dense fur, far more than any normal rabbit could possibly have. "It's definitely some kind of mutation. But what's the point of this kind of genetic change?"

Leonard paused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. 'Mutant genes that cause rapid hair growth…' He couldn't help but think of the potential applications. 'Hair growth agents, perhaps?' The market for such a product could be huge, there were plenty of middle-aged men out there struggling with thinning hair. The potential for profit was undeniable.

However, the thought was interrupted by the practical realization that extracting these kinds of mutated genes was no simple task. The conditions of his current laboratory were not equipped for such advanced research. Even if he wanted to extract and replicate this trait, he'd need more than just a few books on alchemy and some rudimentary tools. A proper research facility would be required.

Leonard chuckled quietly to himself, finding a bit of amusement in the whole situation. "Well, at least my experiment worked. The reagent's effect is definitely noticeable."

He watched the rabbit scamper around, its wild fur bouncing as it hopped, and for the first time in a while, Leonard felt a rare sense of satisfaction. The little creature had served its purpose; now, if only he could figure out how to handle the side effects of such a dramatic mutation.

---

Meanwhile, at the Borrent family estate, the mood was far more somber. Demps lay in bed, his eye bandaged and his face pale from the effort it had taken to fight off the monster that had attacked them. The doctor removed the old, blood-soaked bandages, replacing them with fresh ones. "The recovery situation isn't looking too optimistic," he said gravely. "The damage to the eyeball is severe. All we can do now is focus on reducing the inflammation and preventing infection."

Antina, a young woman with bright blonde hair, stood by the window, staring out at the rain as though searching for something, her brow furrowed with worry. "Uncle Demps…" she murmured, her voice filled with concern.

Demps smiled weakly, though his one remaining eye seemed sharper than ever. "Don't worry about me, Miss Antina. As a knight, I was always prepared for the worst. Losing one eye isn't so bad. At least I still have one good one to keep watch."

Despite his words, Antina's heart ached. She had seen too many good men sacrifice everything for her family. She didn't like the pressure of expectations. Ever since she was five years old, when the family's magical crystal ball had detected her wizarding potential, her life had been defined by others' hopes for her. Her father had always doted on her, seeing her as the family's future, and as her abilities developed, so did the expectations placed on her. Her brothers were kind men, but their status in the family could never match hers.

And now, even here in Bangor Harbor, she could feel those expectations weighing on her. The local viscount had thrown a lavish banquet in her honor, inviting the town's senior officials, as was custom when an heir to such power arrived. But as the night wore on, everything had turned to chaos. A thick fog had descended on the manor, and a strange, powerful creature had crashed through the windows, killing the viscount before Antina's eyes. In the panic that followed, Demps had protected her, but in the process, he had lost his eye to the creature's claws.

The Borrent family had been generous with their compensation, but Antina had no interest in their money. 'What's the use of gold if I can't protect the people who've been loyal to me?' She thought bitterly.

As Antina's thoughts drifted, Dolores, her ever-faithful maid, entered the room. "Miss Antina, the people from the Borrent family have come again," she said, her tone more tired than anything else. "They've invited us to fish for the treasure of their ancestors."

Antina's response was immediate and firm. "No. I'm not interested in their treasure." She turned away from the window, her face hardening with determination.

Dolores, though, couldn't hide her agreement. Even she had grown suspicious of the Borrent family's motives. It was clear they were using Antina and her family as little more than muscle, intending to keep them close for protection. She glanced at Antina with concern. "Miss, there are too many people at the manor now. Our lavender farm can't support this many employees, and the housekeeper is complaining that many of the refugees we took in are taking up space but aren't helping."

Antina sighed, exasperated. "Then don't recruit any more refugees, for now. We can deal with that later." She then turned her gaze back to Demps, who lay on the bed, still awake despite the pain. "Uncle Demps, tomorrow, let's visit the lavender farm in the suburbs. It'll be a good chance for you to relax, and I could use the time away from all this madness."

Demps gave a small nod, the warmth in his smile making his injury seem less severe. "That sounds like a good idea, Miss Antina. A bit of fresh air will do us both some good."

For a moment, Antina allowed herself to breathe. It wasn't much, but it was a break from the weight of responsibility. She hoped tomorrow would bring some peace; if only for a day.